Out on the range

They say because my next oldest brother is seven years older, and my younger brother is seven years younger, I am, psychologically speaking, an only child. I don’t know if this is true, but if it is, it might be the reason I sought companionship in the pages of books when I was very young.
We lived in an older Cape Cod style home where the upstairs ceiling sloped to low walls, leaving full headroom only in the middle of the room. That was where I slept for most of my early years, and I vividly remember sitting cross legged on my single bed with books scattered around me. I was, what? Four?
One of the first books to captivate me was Cowboy Small, written by Lois Lenski in 1942. It was printed mainly in black and white with one orange color used throughout for highlights. Cowboy Small’s horse was Cactus (orange and white), and Cowboy Small’s kerchief was orange, as were his chaps. When he climbed into his bed, he snuggled under an orange blanket, and out on the range at night, he gathered with other cowboys around the orange flames of a campfire and played an orange guitar.
I loved everything about that book: heading out on a horse and camping on the range, building a small fire and rolling out my bedroll. I could almost taste the smoky air. But the thing that really intrigued me were all the things he needed to a cowboy, all of which were neatly detailed at the back of the book. In addition to his regular clothes, he had to have a hat, a gun belt and holster, a kerchief, a cowboy shirt, chaps, blue jeans, spurs and boots. Equipment consisted of a plate and silverware, coffee pot, a can of beans, a horseshoe, lariat, a branding iron and a bedroll. Cactus needed a bridle and reins, a saddle with stirrups and a pommel and a saddle blanket.
Pointing to each item, I repeatedly went through the list, memorizing each item. I knew I would need to know these things if I was a cowboy someday.
The other day as I was getting ready for a short camping trip, I was laying out the things that I needed to take with me. A knife, my backpack, sleeping bag, tent, backpacking stove and propane, flashlight, sleeping pad, water bottle, first aid kit, compass, and my fishing gear – two rods, four reels, sinking and floating line, and assorted dry flies, nymphs and streamers -- and I flashed on Cowboy Small. The list of gear. Everything you needed. Carefully and thoughtfully assembled. It occurred to me that this is a process I've used all my life and that while Cowboy Small was just a children’s book, it cleared a mental trail I have always followed, a path now wide and well worn by practice and experience.
Sadly, I never got to be a cowboy, but when words were first decipherable and when ideas were just taking shape, I was learning how to be ready. 
I slammed the tailgate on my truck and took one last look at my gear and provisions. All was in order. I was ready to ride.