Back in the early nineties, A.C. Ekker had an international trail ride business called Cabalgata International. He would take people on trail rides all over the world. He went to Africa, New Zealand, Argentina, and I don’t know how many other places.
AC planned a ride one year in Hawaii and rented horses from a ranch there. While he was there he met Myron.
Myron worked on the ranch, but he wasn’t cowboy. He worked in the winery on the ranch. A.C. took a liking to Myron, and made a deal with Myron’s boss. They agreed that if Myron came to Utah, and helped gather cattle that fall out at the Robbers Roost, when he returned to the ranch in Hawaii he could work on the ranch as a cowboy.
Since I was A.C.’s full time cowboy at the time that meant Myron would be working with me most of the time. Once I got to know him this was quite entertaining. Myron had a good sense of humor, which you needed to work there.
One of the first jobs we had to do to get ready to start gathering was haul hay from town, out to the Roost for the horses. Myron was sent to help me load hay. I guess they didn’t have hay in Hawaii. Myron was willing, but he didn’t know you could lift hay bales by the strings. He was picking them up with a big bear hug, and trying to carry them into a horse trailer. I watched for a little while, then I went and got A.C. and let him watch for a little while. Finally after a good chuckle, I thought I’d better show him how to carry them by the strings.
Myron was a good kid. He was only about nineteen, or twenty at the time. He really wanted to learn to be a horse trainer so A.C. assigned him a horse to train. It was a little dun gelding we called Roho. I had been riding him for a while, but he was pretty touchy. When he got too bothered, or sometimes when he got bored, he would buck. Myron hadn’t had much experience with this type of horse. Myron got bucked off almost everyday, sometimes twice a day. That’s how he got the nick name the Flying Hawaiian.
Myron was a good sport, and he was tough. He made a lot of progress while he was there. He told me a lot about his life in Hawaii. It was quite different than anywhere I’d ever been.
One of the first trips we made out to the roost, we had a little yearling bull with a broken leg. He wasn’t going to make it on the desert, wouldn’t have been much good to eat. A.C. had Myron and I butcher him and bring the meat to town, and A.C. made jerky out of it. We ate jerky all fall and winter, while we were riding. One of the next trips to the Roost, Myron and I were driving across Roost Flats, when a coyote ran across the road in front of us. By the time I got the truck stopped, and got my gun out, I just got one shot off. The coyote got away. As we drove down the road, Myron asked me “what do you do with coyotes, do you make jerky out of them or just fry them?”
We always had plenty of entertainment while Myron was around.
A.C. hadn’t paid Myron other than room and board, and maybe a little spending money. Myron had expressed an interest in bull riding. So A.C. called one of his old rodeo buddies, Gary Lefew and enrolled Myron in a bull riding school in California. A.C. paid his tuition and paid for his trip. It was shortly after this that Myron had to go home. I drove him to the airport in Salt Lake City, and saw him off. He called me about two weeks later, and told me he was now the colt starter on the ranch in Hawaii. I never heard from him again, but the Flying Hawaiian was living his dream.