Tensleep Horserace
by Mary Flitner

The other day I heard a newsman refer to “these perilous times” for private businesses. No kidding, I thought. The business owner, according to the commentator, foresees a gloomy picture: rising costs, increased property taxes, recession, employee demands for insurance and benefits, market risk.

A gamble indeed, the man said glumly. I thought of the risks we’ve faced in ranching, with more to come. Big sigh. And suddenly I laughed out loud. I remembered being fifty miles from home in 1979, at the Labor Day Horse Race in Tensleep, Wyoming. We were in business for ourselves then, too, and our financial picture was bleak. Land-rich, cash poor, the bankers described us. The livestock market was at rock bottom, and nobody was buying ranches, even if we had wanted to sell.

The races, though: held on a dirt track at the edge of town, the annual races featured mostly ranch horses brought by people who just wanted to have some fun and see which horses could run. Despite the gloomy business setting we were in, we gathered up some friends and a couple of fast horses and rattled off to Tensleep in a beat-up old pickup and trailer, ready for the horserace.

The sunny autumn day attracted a jolly crowd from nearby towns and ranches. The entry fees were small; our horses won their races and we made a little money. Eight of us had gone to Tensleep together. We joked about being a small-time syndicate as we placed some small bets, laughing and enjoying our good fortune. Fun is where you find it, especially during “hard times”.

In the late afternoon, we were at the bar in town noisily celebrating our victories when a local fellow started bragging that he had a horse back at his ranch, faster than any of the others, and he’d bet a thousand dollars cash to prove it. Somehow we heard ourselves saying, “Well, then. Go home and get him. You’re on.”

When we pooled our money to cover the bet our syndicate only had $300 of the $1000 we needed so somebody had to write a check for the remainder. No ATM machines, remember. Cashing an out-of-town check on a holiday wasn’t easy. Nobody had money to spare, and many of us ranchers were heavily in debt. A thousand dollars was a lot of money, borrowing at 16% loan interest rates. We got the money together somehow and went back out to the track at dusk, each of us secretly wondering if that horse really could outrun ours and what we’d do if we lost. With a lump in my throat I stood thinking of groceries, school clothes for the kids and how we’d pay the bills.

We waited nervously for the guy to show up. Our friend Delmer, who owned “our” horse, was sweating bullets. “How’d we get into this,” he said. “I’ve never been much of a gambling man.”

After a quiet minute, my husband slapped him on the back, laughing. “What? Delmer, you’ve gotta be kidding. You’ve gambled more than this every day you’ve been in the ranching business. You’ve been bucked off horses, run over by cows; you’ve walked home when your truck broke down, worked jobs, made a living against all odds. You’ve gambled on cattle prices and the weather and the price of hay. This horserace is nothing at all compared to being in business for yourself. So if we’re all gambling anyhow, let’s at least have a little fun at it.”

We did. At the starting line, a cowboy had the cash money snapped in his polyester shirt pocket for safekeeping, winner would take all. When the flag dropped, the horses jumped out neck and neck, their hooves just pounding in the dirt. The dust flew; we could barely see the finish line and we didn’t know at first whether we’d won or lost. We did win, though, and we gathered up our money and left town as quickly as we could, feeling more relief than triumph. We knew that thousand dollars had meant a lot to the loser, too.

Looking back at what we risked that day, I want to give heart to young friends who are struggling to succeed in their own businesses. “Win some, lose some,” I want to say. Of course it’s perilous. Of course there’s a risk, but there’s reward...profit, perhaps, but certainly adventure, satisfaction, achievement. Definitely it’s a gamble, but oh, the fun of the race.