The Masters of Black Mountain - Nice piece and a nice nod to the big tent.

The Masters of Black Mountain
What can you learn from a herd of wild horses? Plenty.
BY JOHN PEABODY

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McMillan’s ranch house sits near the mouth of Gillis Canyon, a rugged expanse of arid hills and arroyos near the eastern edge of San Luis Obispo County. The canyon runs east-west and is traced by a dry creekbed that comes roaring to life when heavy rains fall, as happened six weeks ago when McMillan and his wife Coralie measured almost four inches in two days. McMillan’s home, which is less than a mile down the canyon from the original family homestead, lies well above the creek on a tongue of earth that, eons ago, slid off a nearby hillside and settled into a stable mass — a natural house pad.


The nearest store is a Mexican market about five miles away in Shandon.On a recent morning, dust and pollen sparkle in the early light like floating diamonds as McMillan hikes up a steep hill behind his house, heading for a ten-acre fenced pasture holding his young mustangs. A rope halter and a bag of alfalfa grain are slung over his shoulder. The sharply angled sunlight casts long shadows down the canyon, and he stops frequently to admire the view. Tall and sure-footed at age 62, McMillan moves easily up the grade, still slippery from the rain. Blue jeans, a Western-style work shirt, and a well-worn cowboy hat mark him as a stereotypical rancher, but the similarities end there.

Very little about Irv McMillan is typical.His day starts early, but he always makes time to watch journalist Amy Goodman’s Democracy Now! on satellite TV. He may be the only man in these parts tuning in to Goodman’s radio and television program that leans left and pushes hard in its critical coverage of the war in Iraq. (His brother Don, who lives farther up Gillis Canyon, has also become a fan of the program.)

This morning McMillan isn’t pondering the insurgency in Iraq; he’s thinking about the rains, predicting when the grass will be coming up, and considering where on his 1200-acre ranch he’ll graze the cattle (he keeps 25 head of Hereford and other breeds). After intense rains, he says, “you can almost hear the grass grow.” A subtle carpet of green is showing on the hills, but it isn’t yet audible. Three years ago, while trekking around Black Mountain, McMillan came upon another hiker, a rare encounter in that inaccessible part of Los Padres National Forest. The men were close to the same age, and closer still in their interests: Both were searching for the mountain’s wild mustangs. It was the first meeting between McMillan and Bob Stone.

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http://www.newtimesslo.com/index.php?p=showarticle&id=1606

thanks for posting it. I hope others will find it enlightening.

dp