Last Train to Clarkesville, by Craig Johnson:

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"Texas."

"Nope." The conductor on the Northeast Corridor Local on the New Jersey Transit Line and I were playing a guessing game as I was making my way up the eastern seaboard on The Dark Horse tour. I usually take the window seat facing the back of the train, in that riding backwards doesn't affect me adversely and I like watching the countryside. It also puts me in direct contact with the uniformed ticket takers who stand by the sliding doors between cars.

"I was in Texas once, in the army; didn't like it much." He continued to study my boots and hat. "Montana."

"Nope." Though it might be hard to believe, the longest portion of my rodeo career began and ended in New Jersey. I was doing graduate work at Temple University in Philadelphia and would run off to a place called Cowtown in southern Jersey on weekends.

"Arizona."

"Nope." I was young and refining my technique in rough stock events for two reasons; I am the world's worst roper, and it was hard to keep a horse in a one-bedroom apartment.

"Oklahoma."

"Nope." Cowtown, New Jersey is one of only three weekly rodeos in the country, and I tried to ride at least one day a week. I competed in the classic events of Saddle Bronc, Bareback and Bull riding. I wasn't very good, but I was young and could take a beating.

"Oregon."

"Nope." There was one weekend where I got caught hanging-and-shaking between a patchwork Brahma and the wooden abutment at the end of the chutes, which resulted in a still discernable dent at the back of my head, a broken wrist and a dislocated shoulder.

"Colorado."

I felt it was time for a little western geography lesson. "Nope, but you're close; it's the other square state."

"Utah."

"Nope."

The New Jersey conductor thought about it. "Utah's square."

"No its not, it's got an indentation at the corner near Salt Lake City."

"Wyoming."

"You got it." That event pretty much ended my rodeo career, which I'm sure equaled nine seconds-that would be three seconds on three bulls. I glanced up at the conductor, satisfied at having figured out my home environs. "Now I've got another puzzle for you."

"What'sat?"

"What three states are the only ones who have a seasonal, weekly rodeo-and here's the first two, Texas and Wyoming." We both looked out the window at the passing New Jersey scenery as he thought about that one.

Craig Johnson, The Dark Horse, Walt Longmire, Penguin Books