Chuck Wagon Races 2013, or, Jones' Own Personal Heaven

So, Jones is our little cowboy.  Nothing makes him happier than a visit to the country, and when we're not there, nothing makes him happier than going driving around and pointing out all of the cows, horses, barns, tractors, and mowers we can find.  So it should come as no surprise to you that the Chuckwagon Races - which I believe is the biggest gathering of its kind in the United States - just about rendered our little cowboy speechless when we drove up two weeks ago to check on Grammy and Papa and take a gander at the campground.  Papa is a kind of "trail boss" up there - he leads the trail rides and is just a general ... well ... trail boss. 

Jones had been asking all week to see Papa and Grammy and Rambler and Jangles (that's Bojangles, but Jones insists on calling him Jangles, not Bo or Bojangles:  Jangles).  So Friday afternoon we drove up to visit.  First things first, we had to help Papa feed the horses (we brought them each an apple, which they crunched up fast, and then we spent a large amount of time walking back and forth between the horses' feeding buckets and putting hay in it). 

 

  

We checked out camp - they have the best spot, on top of the hill, in the shade!

 

We surveyed the view of the campground:

 

We took a drive around and saw thousands of people and horses, and took a look at the race track:

 

 

And we stood in awe of everything that the Chuck Wagon Races entail: