My Personal West: Matthew P. Mayo
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| Vermont Heifers by Jennifer Smith-Mayo |
Below is a modified, abbreviated version of the Introduction to my 2009 non-fiction book, Cowboys, Mountain Men & Grizzly Bears. It sums up much of my take on the American West. And yet that, too, changes every day as I think, read, and write about the West, which continues to be a constant source of enlightenment and inspiration to me.
I grew up on a dairy farm in northern New England. And, just as with people I’ve come to know who grew up on Western ranches, I wouldn’t trade such an idyllic upbringing for anything. Well … maybe summers on a Montana ranch. And for that, I blame Mom and Dad. They were raised during the heyday of TV Westerns and I grew up hearing from them all about Annie Oakley, Matt Dillon (for whom I’m named), the Cartwright Clan, Rowdy Yates, Paladin, and so many more. It’s almost as if these characters were distant cousins who’d gone West and done well for themselves.
Whenever reruns came on our little black-and-white set, I was glued to Little Joe’s every move. I just knew that nothing could be finer than life in a log cabin, a pinto horse saddled and waiting outside—just in case—and a saloon a quick gallop down the road. (Riding heifers in a bony Vermont pasture isn’t quite the same.) I also read stacks of Louis L’Amour’s frontier tales, saw the Duke on the big screen, and vowed I would one day live out West.
With the encouragement of my wife, Jennifer, it eventually happened. I’ve had the great good fortune to be able to not only live in the West but to study it, delving into its rich history with both arms, and to write about it in fiction and non-fiction forms. And the more people and places and events I learn about, the more fascinated I become.
The great era of westward expansion in nineteenth-century America humbles me like no other, especially when I read about the hard work, hardships, and heartaches that so many people endured to travel West, often with little more than hearsay and blind faith to guide them, their talismans a family bible and the memory of a loved one back East they knew they would never again see. And still they headed West. In droves, singly and by the thousands on wagon trails through rough, unforgiving country.
As I’ve researched various projects, I’ve turned up unexpected gems, tales of bold pioneers, of natives steadfast in their devotion to traditions thousands of years old, and of settlers who built and rebuilt towns and cities in blind devotion to their ideals. For every Custer, Crazy Horse, Hugh Glass, Wyatt Earp, and Sacajawea, there are countless others for whom circumstance and time have conspired to bury before their tale has been told. Their stories are no less impressive, and sometimes are even more so, given that they carried on in silence, in hopes of finding that perfect valley for raising crops, that overlooked stream bursting with beaver, that claim veined with gold.
Everyday life in the Old West bore little resemblance to the Hollywood back lot sets of the TV shows of my youth. Indeed, life in the nineteenth-century West was truly gritty—by definition, that which is tough, filled with courage, and uncompromising. But the nineteenth century American West was also a place of wonder and change—opening like a promising flower for white European explorers and conversely becoming a barren, forlorn place for native people. Another segment of the population fell squarely in the middle—the explorers who saw the promise of the land before them and then lost everything in their quest for it.
Theirs is a powerful lesson, for who among us hasn’t fallen flat on his or her face a time or two? The trick, as these admirable people have taught me, is to push ourselves up out of the gravel, wipe our bloodied noses, and head for the horizon.
It is this bold spirit, desire for freedom, and yearning for new, unfettered experience that is the heart of my personal West.
Matthew Mayo is the author of three Black Horse Western novels, and his latest book, Cowboys, Mountain Men & Grizzly Bears is available everywhere. His story, “Half a Pig” from the Express Westerns anthology, A Fistful of Legends, was a Spur Award finalist in the Short Fiction category. Matthew lives with his wife, Jennifer Smith-Mayo (a documentary photographer), and two dogs on the rugged coast of Maine, a stunning region rich in history and natural beauty. Visit him online at www.matthewmayo.com
on July 19, 2010 at 10:18 am
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I rode a few cows in my day as well. And some pigs. More than I rode horses, I’d say. Our family horse died when I was too little to do much riding and we never got another. I did get a dirt bike to ride herd on.
Good piece. YOu really capture the essence here. I enjoyed.
on July 19, 2010 at 10:52 pm
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I grew up on a Nebraska dairy farm just east of the 100th meridian, which makes me west-adjacent, I guess. My interest in the West grew out of a life-long interest in cowboys. After much reading, I share with you a regard for the contradictions of the West, the myth vs historical fact.
Next to the optimism and hope, and the freedom promised by the West, there’s also a sense of loss, loneliness, and melancholy. It’s hard to get your arms around all of it, but your appreciation of it today comes real close. I look forward to reading your books.
on July 20, 2010 at 5:27 am
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And if folks enjoyed this post they should snag a copy of Cowboys, Mountain Men & Grizzly Bears. Top, entertaining and insightful read.
on July 21, 2010 at 5:47 pm
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A great post and anyone who hasn’t got Matt’s Cowboys, Mountain Men and Grizzly Bears I urge them to do so. It’s a great non-fiction work with some really obscure stories and well as the more commonly known ones.
on July 22, 2010 at 7:01 am
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Matt’s work is loads of fun, and one of my favorite new writers of the west.
on July 23, 2010 at 2:31 pm
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Hi All,
Thanks very much for your compliments. I’m pleased that my thoughts on the West rang true.
Cheers,
Matt