As I walked out in the streets of L.A., As I walked out in L.A. one day, I saw a young cowboy, wearing a cowboy hat
Wearing a cowboy hat, with no cattle he strayed.
The undisputed king of the backcountry, built like a freight train with claws that could tear apart a picnic basket—or a pickup truck. It doesn’t run or hide. If a bear wants something, it takes it. Keep your eyes peeled when you're out there!
The undisputed king of the backcountry, built like a freight train on four legs with claws that could carve up a picnic basket.... or a daggum pickup truck.
Here at The Cowboy Country Club we don’t concern ourselves with things like “dress code” or “decorum” we just value the important stuff like cold Lone Star and a dang good chicken fried steak at the clubhouse.
Sharp as a mesquite thorn and tough as nails, el coyote doesn’t ask for a seat at the table. It sneaks in, swipes your green chile enchiladas, and vanishes. It runs with ghosts and thrives where nothin' else can. Life in the desert, enchiladas aside.
Picture yourself sitting on the banks of the beautiful north country of the Río Grande: crisp mountain air, cold Lone Stars in the cooler, the perfect fly on your line.
Picture yourself on the banks of the Río Grande: crisp mountain air, cold Lone Stars in the cooler, the perfect fly on your line. This is the dream. But there's only one thing that can make it better— that first take from La Trucha Del Norte!
Different mother, still my brother. Six shooters and samurai swords? It’s all basically the same. Underneath it all, we’re just two old souls searchin’ for our next cold one.
It ain’t a deer, it ain’t a moose, and it sure isn’t your imagination. It is El Fantasma del Bosque—a shadow with antlers, slipping through the trees. You won’t hear it or see it, but rest assured—it just saw you. Or... maybe it was your imagination?
