A Typical Wyoming Catholic Cowboy Priest's Vacation

Some people wonder what priests do on their days off.  I figure my vaca's are pretty typical for priests, at least for Wyoming Catholic Cowboy priests.  Here's what my past five days back home in the Big Horn Basin looked like.

The week started out with a hotshot trip to Pinedale WY with Fr. Carl Beavers and Dad to pick up a tractor from Fr. Carl's buddy Joe. We arrived back in Worland Monday at midnight with the only casualty being an antelope on the Red Desert.

The next morning we were up with the sun to celebrate Mass with some family, Uncle Phil, Aunt Rhonda, Mom and the Beavs.  Fr. Carl is a Wyoming Catholic priest. There's nothing he doesn't know, or at least has an opinion on, and his stalwartlyness is not only admirable, but also inspirational. I hope I can be like Fr. Carl Beavers when I grow up. 

As we hauled his tractor to Dayton and picked up his car in Buffalo, we discovered he had lost his alternator belt. These two shade tree mechanics had her up and running in no time.

Since we were in the mood for mechanics, Dad and I tackled putting a new head gasket on our little JD-450 dozer.  Dad, I, and dozers go way back.

This is not a pose. I did get my hands dirty. But I think I'll stick with my cowboy hat, even though this is a ba Black Tooth Saddle Bronc hat.

There she be, four cylinders of pure muscle.  Fun little project. 

So we had to take her up to the mountains and put her to the test dragging some dead trees out of the creek.

Dad's a better cat skinner than I

These stumps could have cost us our friendship.  Instead they stand as a testament to the power of working together as father and son in cooperation with the grace of God.

I know that there's nothing Dad would rather do on his birthday than load fire wood

So we went paddle boarding instead

Not bad for a 69 year old Wyoming Catholic Cowboy

I should have started out on my knees too, that way I wouldn't have fallen in.  But you always got to think of the cool factor.

I love life in Wyoming. Today is her birthday, 130 years old.  I told my buddy one day that my dad and Wyoming share the same birthday, and he told me: "Your dad is Wyoming."  I agree.  Dad taught me everything I know about being a man.  What a great grace to spend a few days with him and Mom and all those whom I love and have made me the man I am today.  I got to get back to Gillette so I can get some rest.  On to the next one...