Brigid O'Donoghue, CEO and Founder of the United Special Sportsman Alliance (USSA), tells us how alliance sportsmen help make wishes come true for sick or disabled children and adults by OPENING THE DOOR TO THE GREAT OUTDOORS.
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United Special Sportsman Alliance, Inc. (USSA) is a 501(c) (3) non-profit “dream wish” granting charity, that specializes in sending critically-ill and disabled youth and disabled veterans on the outdoor adventure of their dreams! USSA adventures give our youth and veterans something to look forward to, and help sustain them in their time of need! If you, or someone you know would like to be involved with USSA, please contact:
United Special Sportsman Alliance N7864 Shotwell Lane Pittsville, WI 54466 (715) 884-2256 Fax: (715) 884-7388 Email: [email protected] Website: www.childswish.org |
A FREE SPIRIT IN THE OUTDOORS
by Brigid O'Donoghue
The wild mustang represents the free spirit that embodies our country. They conjure up images of the American west where lawman and outlaw shared the vast space. Prior to the European settlers moving west, the Native Americans had been capturing, training and breeding these Spanish origin “stray” horses for centuries. The mustang had transformed the Native American’s life from living in a defined area, to expanding their mobility in every direction imaginable by riding them, carrying their belongings, hunting and waging war on other tribes. These wild horses represent a simple, bygone era where personal freedom was at its height.
To run freely in nature is dream many of us share and I would like to talk about a group of people who often cannot experience that same exhilaration as we do when we venture into the great outdoors. Many of our nation’s children suffer from critical illnesses and disabilities that can often lead to sedentary life indoors. The thought of so many kids never getting the opportunity to enjoy the outdoors was not acceptable to me and was the impetus for the founding of the United Special Sportsman’s Alliance.
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United Special Sportsman Alliance, Inc. (USSA) is a 501(c)(3) non-profit “dream wish” granting charity, which specializes in sending critically-ill and disabled youth and disabled veterans on the outdoor adventure of their dreams! USSA is composed of a 100% volunteer staff from all walks of life, bonded together by a common love for our fellow humanity and a deep respect and appreciation of our world’s natural resources. USSA has granted over 10,000 dream adventures in 43 states to these special people since September 2000, and the number keeps growing each year rapidly.
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Research shows there are numerous benefits of horseback riding to be a very relaxing and calming experience. One of the many attractions at our annual USSA Summerfest event is horseback riding at the “O.K. Corral.” The O.K Corral is a place where challenged riders can climb easily up and mount the horse safely. An authentic O.K. Corral sign gives the ride a distinctly western flair. The horseback ride loved by all who try it and gives them a chance to be ‘one’ with the horse they are riding as they leisurely make their way around field and logging roads.
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USSA grants many outdoors events like fishing, hunting, camping, and water sports of all kinds to name just a few. Many of our families are caught in a lifestyle that keeps them indoors by necessity. Our charity’s mission is to facilitate bringing these families into the outdoors where the sunshine and fresh air can significantly lower levels of depression and feelings of stress their everyday life brings. Studies have found that natural beauty can elicit feelings of awe, which is one of the surest ways to experience an emotional boost and mental sharpness. The beauty of these studies is that the answer lies just outside our door, and USSA is determined to make these wholesome, healthy opportunities available no matter the circumstances they endure. |
Like the wild mustang, we believe the human spirit is designed to feel free and unencumbered. Americans from all walks of life are all too often dealing with debilitating life challenges. USSA dedicates its mission to providing outdoor recreational opportunities; so we all can experience the freedom the wild mustang feels as they roam the American West. We would welcome any one or organization who would like to get involved with our special kids and their families.
2015 United Special Sportsmen Alliance (USSA) Summerfest
We would like to thank Wild Heart Mustangs™ e-zine for allowing us to bring the encouraging news of quality family outdoor experiences to its readers. As famous author Louis L’Amour said, “There's a little cowboy in all of us, a little frontier.” At USSA, we promise to give that opportunity to all. God bless!
Brigid O’Donoghue
CEO and Founder
United Special Sportsman Alliance
www.childswish.org
Brigid O’Donoghue
CEO and Founder
United Special Sportsman Alliance
www.childswish.org
LOU DEAN is the four-time Winner of the Western Heritage Award; the creator of the Emmy-Award Winning Kung Fu, ABC-TV Series; creator of the Emmy-Award Winning The Young Riders ABC-TV Series; and co-Creator of Dead Man’s Gun, MGM/Showtime TV Series
From the cover of On My Ass:
In a passionate attempt to make a differece, Lou Dean saddles up her donkey, Jesse James, collects her riding buddy Jeanne, and rides off across the width of Colorado to promote non-violence in schools. As they face unforeseen challenges along the trail, Lou Dean wrestles with the brokenness of her past and seeks the courage to stay in the saddle. |
Click on image above to purchase On My Ass and other books by Lou Dean
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ON MY ASS - RIDING THE MIDLIFE CRISIS TRAIL
High Plains Press
by Lou Dean
In our May Issue we featured our first excerpt from Lou Dean's On My Ass - Riding the Midlife Crisis Trail. Excerpt 1 was a lesson in patience, listening and communication. This month's excerpt, is a heartfelt union between Lou and her donkey, Jesse James, that was an epiphany. Both share a stronger understanding, emotional bond and shared consciousness of their relationship with each other.
Excerpt 2
What would I do if my ass gave up with no more than a hundred miles left on our journey? But then I remembered the calm that had come over me on the trail after the near accident earlier that day, that knowing that we would safely reach our destination. I took a deep breath. I would keep the faith. All would be okay.
“I’m gonna go have a talk with my ass,” I said to Jeanne as we got ready for bed that night.
Jeanne giggled as she settled up in her bunk with a book. “Yeah, tell him he can’t quit now. He’s almost at the end of the trail.”
I took the flashlight from its place on the small counter by the sink and started out the camper door. …
Out in the chill of the evening, I walked up to Jesse. He grunted a welcome and Tut nickered softly.
“Such loyal troopers,” I said, rubbing Tut on the neck and shoulders.
With the flashlight, I checked Jesse’s legs again. I ran my fingers down both front legs feeling for heat but there was none. I picked up each foot and looked to make sure nothing was amiss with his hooves.
“What’s wrong with you, my friend?”
Then standing there, with my arm around my ass, I knew. It was the incident on the bridge that day. It had really scared Jesse. It made sense that the fear had taken a serious toll on him. He wasn’t stupid. He must have sensed how close we’d come to calamity.
I had long believed that all animals have emotion. It was a discussion I’d had with the skeptics for forty years. Some people had gone to great lengths to convince me otherwise, but I knew. I’d known since I was five years old and had my first discussion with my dog, Shorty, about Mama leaving. Animals listen, they feel, and they know.
Maybe my riding companion and I were still in denial about the near tragedy on the bridge that day, but my ass was in complete touch with his emotions. The incident had scared him so bad his legs shook for a mile afterward as he walked. Then, apparently the emotional trauma had drained his energy, weakened him. That’s why he quit on me.
I rubbed his long ears and he gave me a sloppy kiss.
“It’s okay buddy. Someone is watching after us. I’m sure of that now. You rest. You will be just fine in the morning. I need you with me to finish this trip. You are my brave boy.”
Jesse raised his head, nuzzled my neck, and ran his lips across my cheek. I had taught him how to give kisses when he was less than a year old. Everyone enjoyed his sloppy kisses, especially the neighborhood kids, who begged to visit us and brought him apples and carrots.
“I love you too, buddy. And I promise, I won’t put you in harm’s way again. I’ll be more careful from now on.”
I turned the flashlight off and stood in the wash of moonlight, rubbing my donkey’s neck. I looked up at the millions of stars in the clear Colorado sky. I thought about Tut trying to tell us that we’d tied him next to an anthill the day before we reached Maybell, and Jesse trying to tell us at the bookstore in Steamboat that he needed to pee.
“I’m slowly learning to listen,” I whispered out into the night.
What would I do if my ass gave up with no more than a hundred miles left on our journey? But then I remembered the calm that had come over me on the trail after the near accident earlier that day, that knowing that we would safely reach our destination. I took a deep breath. I would keep the faith. All would be okay.
“I’m gonna go have a talk with my ass,” I said to Jeanne as we got ready for bed that night.
Jeanne giggled as she settled up in her bunk with a book. “Yeah, tell him he can’t quit now. He’s almost at the end of the trail.”
I took the flashlight from its place on the small counter by the sink and started out the camper door. …
Out in the chill of the evening, I walked up to Jesse. He grunted a welcome and Tut nickered softly.
“Such loyal troopers,” I said, rubbing Tut on the neck and shoulders.
With the flashlight, I checked Jesse’s legs again. I ran my fingers down both front legs feeling for heat but there was none. I picked up each foot and looked to make sure nothing was amiss with his hooves.
“What’s wrong with you, my friend?”
Then standing there, with my arm around my ass, I knew. It was the incident on the bridge that day. It had really scared Jesse. It made sense that the fear had taken a serious toll on him. He wasn’t stupid. He must have sensed how close we’d come to calamity.
I had long believed that all animals have emotion. It was a discussion I’d had with the skeptics for forty years. Some people had gone to great lengths to convince me otherwise, but I knew. I’d known since I was five years old and had my first discussion with my dog, Shorty, about Mama leaving. Animals listen, they feel, and they know.
Maybe my riding companion and I were still in denial about the near tragedy on the bridge that day, but my ass was in complete touch with his emotions. The incident had scared him so bad his legs shook for a mile afterward as he walked. Then, apparently the emotional trauma had drained his energy, weakened him. That’s why he quit on me.
I rubbed his long ears and he gave me a sloppy kiss.
“It’s okay buddy. Someone is watching after us. I’m sure of that now. You rest. You will be just fine in the morning. I need you with me to finish this trip. You are my brave boy.”
Jesse raised his head, nuzzled my neck, and ran his lips across my cheek. I had taught him how to give kisses when he was less than a year old. Everyone enjoyed his sloppy kisses, especially the neighborhood kids, who begged to visit us and brought him apples and carrots.
“I love you too, buddy. And I promise, I won’t put you in harm’s way again. I’ll be more careful from now on.”
I turned the flashlight off and stood in the wash of moonlight, rubbing my donkey’s neck. I looked up at the millions of stars in the clear Colorado sky. I thought about Tut trying to tell us that we’d tied him next to an anthill the day before we reached Maybell, and Jesse trying to tell us at the bookstore in Steamboat that he needed to pee.
“I’m slowly learning to listen,” I whispered out into the night.
FISHING FOR ANSWERS
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“Time to get up, Bear,” were the soft words whispered in my ear followed by a kiss. I barely opened my eyes, it was still pitch dark out. I moaned, took a few minutes to gather myself together mentally, to clear the fog from my brain and focus on the day that was waiting for me. It was about 3:30 in the morning.
Buck was already downstairs with his cup of coffee and preparing for our adventure of the day. While he was busy cutting fresh vegetables and gathering what we would need for our shore lunch for that day, I was still upstairs trying to gather all my winter hunting clothes and long underwear to make sure I was warm enough to be on the river all day, even though it was Mid-April. It was supposed to be in the 50’s and sunny – a beautiful, perfect day for us this time of year. When I came downstairs with my arms loaded with warm clothing, the thermometer read 37 degrees. |
I grabbed my cup of coffee to try to finish waking up. Buck hates to be late, so he was egging me on to keep moving so we could get to the barn to do chores before we headed out for the day. Waking up, for me, is a process…a slow, methodical process. This notion is not comprehended by Buck who has spent his life hunting and up before dawn more times than not. “Up and at ‘em” is Bucky’s morning. While I walked around the kitchen in a sleepy stupor, coffee cup in hand …I gathered the rest of what we would need for our shore lunch, while Buck focused on the food…I gathered amenities (plates, eating utensils, foil, paper towels, Zip-Loc bags, hand wipes, etc). Before I knew, it he beckoned me to hurry and get dressed, we were running behind schedule. By the time I was dressed, he had the car loaded, running and ready to go.
We did chores at the barn like clockwork. Chickens and guinea fowl out and fed, hay to the cows and mule. Jenny, who is on stall rest for an eye injury got her stall cleaned, and fresh bedding added. The cat was fed, litter box cleaned and by the time we both met up from our respective duties, we gave Jenny her eye medicine, fresh hay and were off to Pulaski – an hour and a half drive from where we live.
I wrapped myself in my blanket in the car and nodded back off to sleep. As the car began to slow and make a series of turns, I woke up. We were almost there to meet our guide, Robin Sheltra. Robin and his brother, Todd, own Strike Zone Charters out of Pulaski, NY. Both brothers have been guiding for roughly 30 years and in talking with them you can hear in their voices the excitement they still have for it. Robin was a sport about the gear we loaded into his boat. Cooler, backpack, cooking grill for an open fire, picnic bag. Buck had told him when he scheduled the trip that we wanted to do a shore side lunch with a Steelhead (trout) and feature the recipe and the experience in Wild Heart Mustangs™ e-zine. Robin was not only accommodating, he was excited and brought dried firewood and spent his morning pondering on the perfect location for our shore side lunch. Robin’s enthusiasm for the day was contagious and made me even more excited to go on my first Float trip ever. We would float down the Salmon River trolling for spring Steelhead. We launched from the boat launch at Altmar around 6:30A and were on our way. Buck got the first fish of the day!
The farther we went down the river, the less crowded it became. There were miles we went without seeing another person. I was bundled in my typical winter hunting gear which I was happy to have on. The temperature at the Salmon River on the water was colder than at home, almost by ten degrees. I sat hunkered down in my cushioned, swivel seat and soaked in the day as the chill made my cheeks sting. It made me feel alive, like I feel in the woods. As we floated, I watched the fog from the water envelope the fisherman and the other boats as we too drifted through it. It was peaceful and inviting. The outside world disappeared and there was only this moment. I turned and smiled at Bucky – what a thoughtful trip this was that he had planned for us.
Buck and Robin exchanged stories and caught up with each other. They have known each other for over 30 years. Lost in the moment, I didn’t even realize there was a nibble on a line, when Buck sprang into action to reel it in. That one got away…it didn’t really seem to matter to me, I was just enjoying the day. It wasn’t too much longer that we had another bite, Buck landed the first fish – while I was still acclimating to the drill that if there is a fish on, the other person in the boat reels in the other lines, so as to prevent a tangle. The pressure was off…we had lunch. We had a couple more nibbles and then another bite, as I got to reel in the second fish of the day. As new as I am to fishing, Buck is about as new to photography. So while Robin talked me through the correct way to reel in the fish so I wouldn’t lose it, I talked Buck through which button on my camera was the one to push to turn it on and off and which one took the picture. It was a comedy of errors that had a delightful ending and made us laugh, even until the next morning when we were watching the video and the pictures of it all. Lunch!
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Robin Sheltra, our fishing guide on our float trip
The float trip was serene...with no noise from motors, it was easy to get lost in the moment of the rushing water, wind on my face and nature surrounding us.
I never heard of a “Float Trip”, so I had no idea what to expect. The boats are designed to sit more on top of the water, than in it. They float down the river, with the guide rowing the entire time steering it and holding it back in the current. You have several lines in the water that are let out to designated lengths so as not to get tangled. The water in the river at this time of year has a nice strong current. The current takes the lures out ahead of the boat and we float down behind them. The idea is that the Steelhead at this time of year are spawning and swimming up river. Actually when we went, they were finished spawning and once they are done spawning, they begin to feed again to put their weight back on that they lost swimming up river - not unlike salmon. This is when they hit the lures the best.
In a float boat, you cover many miles of the river because you are constantly moving. It is a wonderful experience, as you are fishing, you are seeing a lot of nature and wildlife, as well, and there is no motor on the boat, so it is extremely peaceful and relaxing. We saw osprey, mergansers, mallards and sea gulls. We heard wood ducks, saw signs of beaver and were told to keep our eyes open for mink, turkeys and bald eagles. The Salmon River is not an extremely wide river, so it allows you to see wildlife along the banks and shores as you float by. When we first left the boat launch, the river was rather crowded…a lot of other boats of various types, and fishermen in waders along the banks. Robin seemed to know most of them and a friendly hello was exchanged as we passed each one. It was like a community …. a community of fishing guides and fisherman. It made me start to think. Our attempt at amateur video...Bucky recording me landing my fish
The tranquil morning continued, filled with nature, laughter, stillness. Robin pointed out every rock, pool, downed tree, and rapid as if he were walking you through his backyard. He knew it’s history and reminisced about how it has changed over the many years, like a proud parent speaking of a grown child. He knew the Salmon River better than most people know their neighborhoods. Robin announced we were at our destination for lunch. He rowed us over to the shore, we unloaded our gear and Buck and Robin started to build a small fire for our trout lunch. While we were getting things going, Todd was rowing by with his client. They stopped to join us. Buck prepared the fish, while the guys watched and asked questions and I took pictures. Everyone pitched in gathering more wood for kindling, preparing the vegetables, picking up our stuff so that nothing was left behind.
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While we waited for it to cook…I sat watching and listening. Our time together wasn’t about the fishing, per se. It was about rekindling old friendships, making new ones and enjoying the company of others. It was about learning new things, sharing new experiences and all of us being better for it when we left each other’s company. It didn’t matter who we were when we got there…business owner, farmer, surgeon, fishing guide, hunting guide, accountant – it was about sharing a love of the outdoors, being at peace with oneself if only for a day, it was about camaraderie. Nature made us all the same. We were all equal. It made me think back to Robin exchanging hellos to everyone as we drifted by them on our way. It made me think about when Buck and I hunt with other people, especially when we do volunteer work with disabled people and veterans. When we are gathered together to go on a hunt, we see each other’s souls, who each person truly is. None of us see a wheelchair, a cane, braces, walkers, disabilities. We see people joined together in camaraderie to share an experience we all love, that makes us whole – if only at that point in time. It isn’t about the fishing trip or the hunt. It is about the experience, the sharing, the stories. It is about joining together and bringing out the best in all of us, not because we expect anything in return, but just because it feels good to do it and we love it. A smile, a hug and breath of hope can heal more than one can imagine.