Our Tribe traded camas for teepee poles and canvas (Cayuse-Umatilla-Walla Walla)

Our wheat was soft-white not hard red Kansas

The fog banks hid grandiose Canadian goose plans

Granddad, Brett Kamm and I drove to Idaho with our baby powder and rope cans

 

The best double cab Ford diesel money could buy

Granddad pointed at Chicken Dinner Rd. that’s The Pickett Line

Feisty Beastie Boys we were ready to flank and tie

Brett and I were equals, but one had more Catcher In The Rye

 

The young Mustangers, wheat germ gangsters, pullin’ four horse stock trailers

Mr. Ed, sex and drugs, diggin’ post holes, Medicine Hat the King Pin rolls

Federal snow fence, undercover FBI lines of white cars

Made the hit-list, but not the NFR

 

We were Umatilla Reservation cowboys and we knew it all

Brett’s head was a jackpot going on chaos and getting the last call

Granddad got us a room with a pool at the Shilo Inn

We roped all day at the roping school and did it again and again

 

Dee Pickett must have stayed all night at the Four Seasons

Everybody knew he was the best and a stick for all the right reasons

The lone wolf pup in Dean Oliver’s tracks

He kept winning day money while Roy Cooper perfected holdin’ his slack

 

The young Mustangers, wheat germ gangsters, pullin’ four horse stock trailers

Mr. Ed, sex and drugs, diggin’ post holes, Medicine Hat the King Pin rolls

Federal snow fence undercover FBI lines of white cars

Made the hit-list, but not the NFR

 

Dee Pickett rode horses with superb horsemanship in a cold cowboy world

He was a V-Ten Dodge cowboy when I met my Idaho girl

Every Texas roper had horse money with little or no shame

New aged calf ropers didn’t give a shit about hangin’ on to them bridal reins

 

Dee Pickett was on his way out and he was made for rodeo and not football

Dee swung polygrass and nylon won big gold buckles to cherish on his wall

He was one who made great plans and could stay ahead of the rest

A competitive personality spoke everything about him and he always gave his best.

 

 Song: Phish. The Line.

 

If you have never met Dee Pickett you should. He is a nice man and of course professional. I came up with the line Pickett Line out at the sweat lodge yesterday and worked on it a little bit. I had to ask a nice man to look up the name of Shilo Inn. Brett Kamm lived at Mustanger Grounds and was my neighbor for 18 years at least. He taught me a lot about rodeo. I always went to rodeos with him even if not entered. The 10 or 15 FBI cars did come up Motanic’s driveway about the snow fence my roping partner used to make a corral with. King Pin my horse did roll at Medicine Hat and got a bad muscle cramp. Brett had that red 4-horse bumper pull we dragged it all over hell and back. Nobody did use horsemanship any longer after Dee’s era. My uncle made me get off the left and go under the rope when I started roping which was bullshit in 1985. Jeff Chapman made fun of Dee to his face for tagging his horse up I heard him say. In high school rodeo when the announcer used to ask you to write your hobbies down Brett told us to write Sex, drugs, and Rock–n-Roll, and alligator wrestling so that is what I always wrote on my entry form. My homeboy Lee is doing 5-life sentences and he told me I write like the guy in Catcher In The Rye. I read that book due to Lee. We are all about wheat fields on Purchase Ranches in Pendleton. Dave Cannon said, “There was never a calf roper from Pendleton.” A lot of people had to work too, but there are more advanced ropers from areas other than Pendleton.

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