We looked at Doc and wondered how late he’d been up the night before.

“You know,” Doc said, “teak surfing, the great sport in Oregon? Well, here’s a story about it. It seems that idiots in Oregon grab hold of the back of speedboats and get dragged along on their feet at high speeds in the ocean, and now they’ve outlawed it, because the teak surfers inhale fumes from the motor and get goofy.”

“Never heard of it,” Dud said.

“And I guess you never will again,” Doc said. “It’s been outlawed.”

“It’s like hooky-bob,” said Bert. “The dumb kids up north play hooky-bob in the winter. They hide until a car pulls up to a stop sign, then they sneak out from the bushes, grab hold of the back bumper and squat down. When the car starts up, they slide along on the snow-covered road until they get going about 30 miles an hour, then let go and see how far they can slide until some other car puts them in the hospital.”

“Well,” said Steve, “I feel a little left out because I didn’t bob any hookies or surf any teaks.”

“You just haven’t lived right, Steve,” said Doc, laughing.

“That’s right,” said the tall cowboy. “About the only thing I did as a kid was pasture surfing.”

We looked at him. “Pasture surfing?”

“When I was a little fella, my dad got a new rope, and naturally the new rope needed breaking in, so I roped old Brownie with it, our Brown Swiss milk cow? When Brownie felt that loop come tight, she decided to see if an old milk cow could run real fast around her pasture with a dumb kid being dragged behind her.”

“And?”

“The answer was yes.”

“Did the rope get broken in?” Doc asked.

“Sure did,” Steve said, grinning. “And so did the seat of my pants.”