About The book

     When I was just seven or eight years old, my grandpa Ira took me to a horse pull in Weiser, Idaho. I was fascinated with those huge horses and couldn't believe how much grandpa knew about them. But he was born in 1904 when everyone back then knew about draft horses. He told me stories of the big teams pulling sturgeon lines out of the Snake River and how he used to ride on the backs of oxen that were logging in the woods near Tamarack, Idaho. That began my life-long love affair with big horses.

     After college and some work experience, I took a job on a ranch that used draft horses for haying and feeding cows in winter. I had always been fascinated by my dad’s stories of his dad, Ed Vande Voorde (who I was named after), working horses on the family farm in Pipestone, Minnesota. Grandpa originally came from Belgium where they bred the magnificent Brabant horse. Frankie and Tay were one of grandpa’s teams.

     I was lucky that I got to work under two top-notch teamsters, Jim Grube and Jess Ross. They were very kind and patient with me, helping me learn to work horses the correct way. I love the big drafts and have been lucky to own and work them.

     While on the ranch one morning in late winter, I was feeding cows with a horse-drawn sleigh, and Jess was driving his pickup on the long driveway that led to the highway. His truck slid off the icy lane and into a snowbank. I drove my bobsled over to him but couldn’t get it close enough to hook a chain to the pickup.

     I was driving a four-up that morning. Jess came over and we unhooked the evener from my lead team, and I hooked a chain to the pickup while Jess drove the two horses. He spoke to them. The off horse (Bird) was on slick and icy footing, but the nigh mare (Maggie) was on partly thawed ground. When Maggie started to pull, the nose of the pickup kept digging farther and farther into the snowbank. Jess just let her keep pulling. The snow started piling up on the hood. I stood there awestruck.

     Finally, they went forward far enough that Bird got some traction and, by swinging the team to the side, the truck popped out of the snowbank and back on the driveway. True teamwork -- Jess, Bird, and Maggie.

     I went up to Maggie and what I saw makes me emotional to this day. She was quivering from the tremendous strain and her eyes were glassed over  -- but she had triumphed. She had done what her centuries-old breeding had told her to do --  pull with everything she had for as long as necessary.

     It has been over 40 years, but I can close my eyes and see it like it was yesterday. I decided right then I wanted to write about this experience one day to honor and celebrate these amazing animals.

     Over the years, this story has been in my mind and kept growing, changing, and evolving. I would think on it while up all night baling hay or during those long hours alone in the milking parlor. It gave me a creative outlet and helped occupy my mind.

     I sold my dairy cows a year ago and finally had time to write the story down. Although what you are about to read is fiction, it is filled with many true events I have experienced and people and horses I have known in my lifetime. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I have enjoyed it being a part of me for 40 years.