I wanted to be a cowboy. Not the kind of cowboy we saw in movies and on television back in the 1950’s and 60’s, but a cowboy like Gramps. Gramps was my hero. Mostly Gramps was a Kansas wheat farmer, but I knew he was a cowboy at heart. Gramps always had beef cattle in a couple of pastures, a small herd of milk cows and at least two horses. Out of all the chores we did on the farm, working with cattle and horses held a special allure for me, and it was obvious that it was special for Gramps too.

I enjoyed all of the work involved in raising cattle, from mending fence to treating pink-eye; but for sheer, adrenaline-pumping fun, nothing compared to a round-up. I was usually back in school in Iowa at branding time, but did get in on it once. The round-ups I usually got to participate in were when Gramps or one of my great-uncles needed to take some stock to market. Of course, loading the cattle onto the truck would not have been possible without the help of a sturdy loading chute.

As often happens, my dream of becoming a cowboy slowly faded as other interests grabbed my attention and gained importance in my life. One of those interests was photography, and when I retired I finally had the time to pursue it more seriously. It was on a photography outing with a photo club that I came upon an old abandoned loading chute out in the desert and a wave of nostalgia swept over me. My heart was filled with love for Gramps and memories of working cattle together and I knew I had to stop and photograph this relic of the past. It wasn’t long before I came upon another old loading chute and a project was born.

The poem The Lonely Wooden Loading Chute is a testament to the enduring strength of childhood fantasies in the great circle of life and my attempt to reconnect with a favorite.