Every visit to the grocery store found me hounding my mother for a nickel or two so I could ride the stationary pony to nowhere. She always gave in and handed me a few nickels to keep me riding the range while she shopped. In my kid’s mind, the wilds of Texas stretched before me, Indians around every corner, wild critters stalking me on my trusty steed. When the coins ran out, I would sit quietly on Twigger until my mother fetched me. I missed my pony, but I was glad when she changed stores, and the new one had a rocket ship to nowhere.
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Notes From The Cactus Patch 
Far me, riding those horses were about as real as I could get. My grandfather had 3 race horses, Rayleen, Raylad and Mildred’s Pet. I was never allowed to ride them, but fed and petted them often. I have fond memories of track races in Fredericksburg, Brady, Bandera, Boerne & Alamo Downs in San Antonio…late 50s, early 60s. Thanks for the memories
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You’re welcome Jack. My grandparents had a mule, which I rode a few times, and in my twenties the family had a cattle ranch in Paris Texas and I had two real cutting horses, one which bucked me off frequently. I saw one of these old pony’s at an antique shop in Fort Worth. I wish I could have afforded it, I would rather like to ride a nickel pony to nowhere about now.
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I had a helicopter.
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When you weren’t riding your mobile steed, you likely had a wild stick horse you gripped with one hand, mounted, and smacked your butt to get going. Fun times!
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I can get you a ride for a penny. Horse. No rocket ship. No race car. Let me know. It’s 51 degrees here now, you might find that to your liking too.
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51 degrees, wow, going to be cool here today, only 95.
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