By Tom Bryant
Photo's by Tom Bryant and
The Kern River Outfitters

Kern River in the Sequoia National Forest

Photo's and Story By Tom Bryant

Maneuvering through heavy freeway traffic towards Primm Nevada in one of the nastiest rain storms I'd driven in, in quite some time, I started to question myself as to the three hour journey to Buffalo Bills to cover a show I knew little about.

Those Oklahoma hills sure do bring back memories, do you remember the song "Those
Oklahoma Hills Where I Was Born". I don't know who wrote the song but I'm sure his or her memories of those Oklahoma hills were the same as mind. Around where I was born which was Bartlesville they called the hills circle mountains but they were only hills. Hills covered with Blackjack trees and Hickory trees and a little of this and that make up the full beauty of the Oklahoma Hills. Out cropping of sandstone with moss all over them and small caves are a vital make up of the hills. Wild life is abundant in the hills and mixed with the trees and sandstone make up the complete picture. In the fall the hills turn wonderful colors and give the rustic setting for the log cabins that still can be found back in the hills. Along the bottom of the hills where I lived you can find Indian cemeteries with sandstone fences and over grown with weeds and grass. Small old school houses that are now being used for houses are also around the bottom of the hills. Yes those Oklahoma Hills are something to see and a good place to hike around. When you get hungry just look around and you will find wild Berries to eat and water from fresh springs that stream down the hills and over the sandstone on its way to the river
below. At the foot of the hills lays a carpet of grass that form meadows and feeding grounds for the Deer and wild Turkeys to hide in. Yes those Oklahoma Hills are great and the memories of my younger days are just as great.

Remember the Service Stations

Bingo seemed to take a liking to me and would go everywhere I would go, he was my shadow. He wouldn’t follow unless he was invited when I left the yard, but he would stand right out at the edge waiting on that call he loved to hear the most, here Bingo and off he went just as fast as his legs would take him.

He would always be there, right by my side through rain or snow Bingo was there.

After watching the western shows on TV, Bingo would sometimes ask to be the horse that pulled the wagon that made up the only wagon in our newly formed wagon train .Sometimes when I would find myself shot from one of those Indian arrows, just play like arrows that just happened to be shot from that play like Indian friend of mind, old Bingo would end up standing by his master’s side licking my face to help heal my wounds.