The Cowtown Cowboy

 

Once you get over the Delaware Memorial Bridge, you hang a right on 40 and head east to the beach towns.

There's not much to see during this stretch except endless rows of corn or maybe the Jersey Devil which is known to inhabit the Pine Barrens of south Jersey.

And then there's Cowtown.

When I think of Jersey, rodeos don't immediately come to mind.

Nope, more like The Boss or Yo La Tengo maybe some Silver Queen corn or Maxwells in Hoboken.

I definitely don't think of cowboys and rodeos.

Cowtown has always intrigued me.

We should have stopped.

I always want to stop but am always too eager to get to the shore.

You'll know you are in Cowtown when you see the cowboy.

Of course it came up on us sooner than I expected and what with the digital camera taking forever to boot up and my wife's lead foot, I managed to only capture a sliver.

But I like the sliver.

Because that's just one of my patented typos away from silver.

And silver always makes me think of this junkie cowboy chestnut...