My father, a cousin and I had occasion to visit a friend out on the edge of the desert. W.S. was a famous horsebreaker and actually lived in the very same house that I had lived in as a kid, which was why I went along while my cousin wanted to buy some radio equipment W.S. had. While we were looking at the radio stuff, and I was looking around at all the changes in the place, we all heard a noise like a train coming. Dad, W.S and I all knew that the nearest train track was on the other side of the Salton Sea about 20 miles away.

So we went around the house to look at the road where the noise seemed to be coming from. About a 1/4 mile away, we could see a jeep on the dirt road going past the place. A huge roostertail of flying dirt followed the jeep.

"That's J.P.," said Wallace, naming one of the local cowboys. "I recognize the jeep."

"What's making the dust and noise?" asked my dad. "Is he dragging something."

"Damfino," said W.S.

About that time, the jeep reached the front of the house and we caught sight of what he was dragging. It looked like a torpedo but we all knew what it was since all of us had lived on the edge of the Navy Bombing Test Range for twenty years or more. It was a five-hundred pound bomb.

If the men had been cartoon characters, their hats would have flipped off their heads. :) I wasn't wearing a hat but I swear my hair stood on end, and when you have waist length hair that is a heckuva lot of hair standing up. :)

"That expletive-laden-description-redacted fool must have found it out on the desert and decided to tow it in."

"Let's hope it's a dud or a dummy," said Dad.

"If it weren't for the mess it would make of the road, I'd fucken hope it wasn't a dud!" said W.S. "One less fucken dumb-as-horseshit cowboy!" Which was funny because W.S. was a cowboy himself.

Dad had a company radio in his truck and he used that to call water company HQ to call the Sheriff and Hiway Patrol while W.S. went inside to call the Navy who had a policy of never confirming whether found bombs were duds or live ammo so we never knew how much danger we had actually been in.

Which goes to prove that you don't need a brain--if you're a cowboy, at least. :)

- Erin