THE DOWN PAYMENT

Dad bought five acres next to his place in Wright City one time. It was covered with brush so thick a rabbit couldn't wiggle thru it.

Dad being Dad, he didn't own a power tool for land clearing. He owned a machete that he kept "sharp as a razoo" (to quote him), behind the seat in his pickup.

Dad started in on one corner of his property, and using the machete, whittled his way along the land a small patch at a time. He told me he would make make a pile of green brush, set it on fire with diesel, and then add to the pile as he swung the machete. I don't know how long it took Dad to clear the five acres this way, but time had no meaning to him then. He "worried" the brush off that place, one machete swing at a time.

When I bought the Tin Star Ranch, it was covered in all manner of undesirable things:

1. Rusty iron (pipe, rebar, buckets, rolls of barb wire and hogwire)

2. Beverage cans and bottles

3. Rocks, rocks, and more rocks

4. Old dry brush piles twice as big as my truck

Being Gene's boy (and having only Dad's 50 year old machete and a set of cheap Home Depot limb loppers), I set out to tame the place a small piece at a time.

The brush piles were so large that I had to carefully pick a windless, wet day to light just one and pray that I would not set fire to the countryside. After they were burned, I started creating brush piles of my own.

I bought the place in July so think HOT! I would arrive at the front gate at dawn and wait for enough light to see. Then I would swing that machete and drag brush to pile until no later than noon. By that time, it was all I could do to crawl into my truck and drive home to lick my wounds. This routine went on for about two years as I went to the Ranch 3-4 days per week to cut brush, pick up trash, or pile rocks.

Pile rocks meant bend over, put them in my truck, drive to my rock pile, and pick them puppies up again to throw them on the pile. My country lava droppings ranged in size from a softball to just about the max that I could lift.

About the time I got the brush "semi" under control, I was able to purchase a Stihl chain saw. I used that bad boy to start attacking the trees. We have hundreds of oaks and elms on the place and years+neglect had allowed the limbs to grow down to the ground. I spent near six months holding that chain saw in front of me or over my head to get the trees trimmed enough that I could look across the land and mostly see from one end to the other in places.

During the course of this two and one half years of fun and frolic, I collected a lifetime of cuts, scrapes, bruises, bites, (poison ivy every other week!!!!), crap in my eyes, and sunburn from hell.

But you know what, the truth is that I merely considered my labor the real "down payment" on the place. It allowed me to psychologically make the place my own thru an investment of blood, sweat, and tears that no money could replace.

Oh yeah, after 30 months of "bustin" my rear to clear all, I bought a new diesel tractor with implements. I kinda put the horse after the cart on that one, but who can predict when the money train will come around?