Tag Archives: Blue River

Wrapping it up: Days 24-28, The Blue River to Eagar, AZ

This post will conclude the documentation of the horse pack trip Dad and I did from April 11 through May 8, 2015 from the US/Mexico border to Eagar, Arizona. The trip was 355.2 miles, according to my DeLorme InReach Explorer GPS, and spanned 28 days. This post covers Days 24 through 28.

When we left it at the end of the last post, it was somewhere around 3:00am Sunday night and I awoke to the sound of a whinney off in the distance, up the canyon a ways, where five of our horses had wandered during the night as they grazed, leaving the Queen Bee, Lizzy, staked at the edge of our camp.

The next sound I heard was the rumble of thundering hooves, as the whole herd came at a full gallop toward camp. I don’t think Dad even woke up, but I was curled up in the fetal position in my mummy-style sleeping bag expecting to be trampled at any moment. Well, the horses galloped into camp, but luckily, as they did Sunday afternoon, they stayed to the trail and passed by us about 30 feet away. Whew! They immediately settled down to their grazing again and all was well. I went right back to sleep.

Down in the Blue
Down in the Blue

We broke camp the following morning, as usual. I decided to ride Lizzy, as her back was doing much better, and pack Daisy and Ranger. Daisy’s saddle sores had gotten pretty bad, so we put the salve on her and put a pack saddle on her with no packs. We just rolled up the manty canvasses and tied them to the saddle. Ranger had a light pack as well, because we were down to the last of our feed. We divided the rest of the gear and supplies evenly among the three pack animals that were carrying a load, and all three were fairly light. Clancy was doing a bit better, so he was going to be walking, rather than riding.

Black was doing better. His swelling had gone down quite a bit and he was moving better. The bute had been helping. We gave him his morning dose and by the time we got started he was doing better. Dad was riding Jimbo, so Black had a light pack on.

The travel was pretty good, as we were able to follow the designated trail much of the day, however, since the USFS and BLM have removed livestock, for the most part, in the Wilderness area, the trails are quickly disappearing. Cattle no longer move through the areas, cowboys no longer use the trails, fires have swept through some areas, and so they are simply disappearing. Trails that have been in existence for hundreds of years are now just gone. It’s rather sad.

Anyway, for much of the day we simply made our own way, but it wasn’t too bad. The Blue was running low and there was plenty of open ground in the riverbed and surrounding benches to allow us to pass through most areas with no problem. At one point we spied a couple of caves up on a sidehill. I just had to explore them (my brain still thinks I’m 15), so Dad took a break and the horses grazed while I took a look.  They were deep enough to make a small room, but I found no buried treasures.

The weather was a bit wet, broken clouds, sprinkling just enough to get things wet in the morning. Later in the day we could see clouds building south of us. Eventually, those clouds began to build in our direction, so we were watching for a storm.

We expected to be able to find adequate grass for our horses down in the Blue riverbed, but surprisingly we found very little. We saw a few head of cattle, but they were very wild, obviously holdovers from many years back. Still, the grass in the area was grazed low. Apparently the elk herds are strong in that area. Whenever we found any quantity of grass at all, we stopped to let the horses get a few mouthfuls.

We passed the HU-Bar ranch about mid-morning. We were back into familiar territory, as Dad had been down in that area in the past. About lunchtime we found a patch of grass and decided to let the horses graze while we ate lunch. We also pulled out our slickers, as the sky started to spit a bit of rain.

Just as we were about to wrap up our lunch break, a couple cowboys with their dogs showed up. They were hunting stray cattle. Back in the old days, this would have been known as “rustling”, but what they were doing was removing lost cattle from areas where they had been restricted by the USFS. These were cattle that had once belonged to some local rancher, but that he wasn’t claiming, in order to avoid being fined by the USFS. So, these locals would go out and find the strays, then take them to market. At today’s prices, it brings in a little extra to keep their families fed or spare change in the pockets. It wasn’t easy work, because those cows we saw were wilder than deer!

The cowboys hadn’t brought their slickers along, so as the drops started falling, they headed out at a pretty quick pace. That worked out pretty well for us, because they were familiar with the actual trail. On our way forward, we simply followed their tracks, which likely saved us a couple hours by the time we covered the next six miles or so to the Blue Road. As it turned out, we got enough rain to get everything wet, but no downpour. We heard some thunder back down the canyon, but none close enough to be of concern.

We hit the Blue Road about 4:30pm. We had made about 16 miles, but figured we needed to make another eight miles to make it to our stopover place at Blue. We contacted Dick Goodman by text to let him know where we were and when to expect us and about two miles farther along he and his wife, Jean, showed up in their pickup. Clancy was about done-in and I was carrying him on my saddle as much as I could (the strain on my back was quite painful). We put Clancy in Dick’s pickup and they took him on to the house for us. Although he was in pain, he left us barking and howling to let us know he didn’t want to go. Dick returned a bit later and went ahead of us, opening all the gates as we approached. That was a big help, as getting on and off the horses this late in the day was a chore.

We finally arrived at Dick’s place, where he had made arrangements for us to use a corral, around 8:15pm, long after dark. We unpacked the horses, fed and brushed them, then headed for Dick’s house. We were beat. Our horses had fared well, but were tired as well. We had made 26 miles on the day, in just short of 12 hours of riding.

Dick had an RV he let us stay in. It was nice to get a shower and rest in a bed that night.  Dick and Jean treated us to baked beans and hamburgers. The following day, Tuesday, was wet and rainy. We decided to stay the day. It was a good break for us all after a 26-mile day on Monday. Mom and my sister visited and brought a lemon pie. We had a fine dinner that evening.

During the day on Tuesday we were able to talk to a couple fellows who know the Blue Wilderness area very well. Our plan was to ride Grant Creek Trail from the Blue River, near Dick’s place, to the top near Hannagan Meadow. We’ve made that ride several times before and know it to be a beautiful and pleasant ride. The advice we got, however, was to abandon that idea, as the trail system had received no maintenance in the past several years, and fires and disuse had made most of them impassable by horse. It was a tough decision, but in the end we decided to ride the Red Hills Road to the top. We figured we were about fifty miles from Eagar, by the route we would ride and that it would take us about three days.

Ranger's lump on his back
Ranger’s lump on his back

We also decided to leave Lizzy and Daisy. Lizzy’s back was sore again and the lump on her back had swollen overnight. She also had several rub sores on her shoulders and rump from the straps of the pack saddle. Daisy’s saddle sores had gotten worse as well, and, quite frankly, we were tired of her mare-ish antics. Even after all this time, she was disruptive to our string. Neither horse was of much use to us and there was enough grass available now that we did not need to haul feed, so we called my brother-in-law to come pick them up. My mother took Clancy home with her. We also sorted out some items of gear we wouldn’t need and left them with Dick. He’d bring them up to us in Eagar later. We ended up with only two pack animals, using paniers, rather than Decker-style packing. We found our process of packing and getting ready to move went much faster and easier.

So, for the last three days of the trip, it was just Dad and me, three horses, and one goofy mule.

On Wednesday morning, after an excellent breakfast provided by the Goodmans, we packed up and headed up Blue Road. About two miles up, we came to Red Hills Road, which we took and started the climb up out of the Blue. We ascended more than 4,500 feet in a matter of twelve miles. It was a fairly easy day on Dad and me, but was tough on the horses.

Once on top, at an elevation of over 9,000 feet, the land levels out a bit. There was plenty of grass and we stopped several times to graze the horses. In the late afternoon we stopped near US 191 at a set of corrals used by the USFS. Although there was plenty of grass, we had made previous arrangements with a friend to leave a bale of hay there at the corrals. We released the horses into the corrals and fed them. It was still fairly early in the day, around 5:00pm, so we had time to gather firewood and make a nice campfire. We enjoyed the evening sitting around the fire talking about our trip and our plans going forward. We made 14 miles and climbed over 4,500 feet. Our camp was at about 8,090 feet elevation.

Camp at the corrals on Highway 191
Camp at the corrals on Highway 191

Our original plan had been to use this first leg of the trip as a “shake-out” that would let us know how well we had prepared and whether we had the right horses and gear to continue. If the answer was yes, we would continue on to the second leg of the trip, to Panguitch, Utah. We made the decision several days earlier that we would stop at Eagar this year. Our gear proved to be good, although we had taken quite a bit of gear that we never used, but we found pretty early on that two of our horses were not the right animals for a trip of this kind. In particular, Daisy was a horse we wished we hadn’t brought from the very first day. Lizzy, on the other hand, was a good horse on the trail, but she has a very fine coat of hair that doesn’t offer sufficient protection to her from abrasion. She gets a rub sore wherever a strap rubs her. Additionally, as she lost weight, the saddle put pressure on her spine, which caused the lump on her back. I have seen this on other Fox Trotters, and even Ranger was somewhat affected the same way late in the ride. She just wasn’t the right horse for a ride like this. We decided the wisest course for us was to stop at Eagar, learn from our experience, and plan to make the second leg, from Eagar to Panguitch, the following year.

We passed a pleasant evening. We watched a herd of elk pass near our camp. We slept well and were well rested the following day, Day 27. Packing up and getting rolling was a much quicker and easier process, as I said before, with just four animals. We were up and moving before 8:30am.

We stayed mostly to USFS roads, passing by Springdale and seeing a few houses here and there. We traveled at a very good pace and made good time. I was riding Ranger during the morning, but he kept walking with a short-strided and choppy gait, which worked on my back and made things quite painful for me. Before lunchtime I switched my saddle to Jimbo and rode him the rest of the day. I like riding Jimbo. He has the best training of all our horses and is very pleasant to ride. Later that evening I found Ranger had two loose shoes, which I tightened. I think his sore back contributed to his choppy stride. He is normally very smooth to ride.

Camp near Big Lake off USFS 24
Camp near Big Lake off USFS 24

Again, this day, traveling by USFS roads, we found that the topo maps provided with my DeLorme InReach Explorer, were grossly inaccurate. We found mislabeled roads and roads shown on the map that were nonexistent, as well as roads on the ground that did not show on the maps. That was a very frustrating thing. We found during this trip that our good old-fashioned paper maps were indispensable. Between the three – GPS, electronic topos, and the paper topo maps – we did ok.

We made camp that night about 3 miles or so west of Big Lake, near a stock pond. It was a pleasant spot with good grass. We were lucky to get it, as a couple pickups and motorcycles stopped by looking for a campsite that evening. It was a cold night, at about 8,500 feet elevation. We had made 19.6 miles.

Ice from our bed cover
Ice from our bed cover

In the middle of the night we had an unexpected shower. I jumped up and spent the next few minutes running around in the cold rain in my underwear trying to cover everything up. It was nice to jump back in the sack and cover up. The following morning we had small puddles of ice on top of the top cover of our bed.

The next morning, Day 28, Friday, May 8, 2015, was a nice day, with broken clouds and just a hint of a breeze. At 8,500 feet, though, that doesn’t make for a warm day. We slept-in a bit and didn’t roll out of our bags until 6:00am. We were packed and rolling by 9:15am. We were thinking that if we made good time and didn’t make any navigation mistakes, we might reach Eagar that day. It would be a long day, however, and we had no desire to push things like we did down on the Blue. We considered that we might need to make camp short of Eagar and finish on Saturday.

Out on top, White Mountains
Out on top, White Mountains

We passed through some beautiful country, with which we were already familiar. Dad and I love that area, up in the tops of the White Mountains. The Wallow Fire of 2011 blackened much of the area, but not all. We passed through some burned areas, but for the most part it was green and nice. We passed a very pleasant day. As we passed the Black River, we filled our canteens and watered the horses. We gave them a break to graze on the grass, which was abundant here.

We did, in fact, make very good time on the dirt roads and we were coming down Water Canyon, above Eagar in the late afternoon. As we came into town on the south side, about a quarter mile from where our trailer had been dropped off for us, Black started limping. By the time we got to the edge of town he was limping badly, so Dad dismounted and waited with the horses while I went on to the trailer and came back for him.

Wouldn’t you know, that by the time I got back to pick up Dad, he had lost Honey the mule. Honey, recognizing the area, since she had been kept for a while near where we were, and seeing her buddy, Jimbo riding away from her, she pulled away and ran off, still packed with our gear. It took us a while to finally locate her. A local fellow found her wandering around and corralled her. With Honey in the back of the trailer with the horses, we drove the four miles or so to the pasture and home.

I have to admit that the end of the trip was somewhat anticlimactic, but we were glad to be home. We made 22.4 miles that day, arriving at Eagar at 6:30pm.

Our total travel mileage was 355.2 miles from the US/Mexico border to Eagar, Arizona, in 28 total days, 21 travel days.

Black was back to normal after a few days of rest, as were the rest of the horses. Only Jimbo and Honey arrived at the destination without a single mark on them. The others all had their bumps, bruises, and scrapes. After all the headaches and problems he gave us during the first few days of the trip, Jimbo turned out to be the most solid, capable, and reliable horse of the bunch. We were lucky to have him along. Daisy’s saddle sores have since healed up, leaving only the white telltale marks, but her disposition hasn’t changed any. I still want to spit on the ground every time I think about her. Lizzy is still my favorite trail horse, but she won’t be coming this year, due to her propensity for rub sores. We’re keeping her at Eagar as a backup, just in case. Dad’s Little Black will be with us this year. He and Dad are a package deal.

On the Trail
On the Trail

There was one day on the ride last year, during which I had thoughts of regret at dragging my dad out into this difficult and somewhat dangerous endeavor. Thoughts that it was my selfish desire to drag him along and I shouldn’t have done it. I thought, “What in the world am I doing out here with my 81 year-old dad?”

Two months ago, Dad and I were out for a ride south of Moab, Utah, tuning up for this year’s ride. As we walked along side-by-side on the horses, I mentioned those thoughts and feelings to him, expressing to him that I was having doubts about our plans for this year’s ride from Eagar to Panguitch. Last year’s ride was 355 miles in 28 days. My figuring has this year’s ride estimated at about 620 miles and 42 days on the trail (not counting rest days). Dad looked at me with a wry grin and told me not to worry. He hadn’t had even one minute’s regret during that ride last year. The thought hadn’t even entered his mind.

That was all the confirmation I needed.

So, Dad’s 82nd Birthday is Monday, May 23, 2016. We will be mounting up on Tuesday to head for his hometown, Panguitch, Utah, planning to ride into town just in time to ride in their Pioneer’s Day Parade on July 23. His high school class will be holding their 64th class reunion that week as well. A fine homecoming for Dad.

I’m glad we can do this. It’s quite a thing.

Buena Vista Peak, Chiricahua Mountains, Arizona

 

 

Days 20-23…From the Gila Box to the Blue Range Primitive Area…Second Edition

This post will cover Days 20-23 of our pack trip last year.

Day 19 left us camped out on a hilltop overlooking the Phelps-Dodge mine at Morenci, Arizona, just north of the northeast end of the Gila Box Conservation Area. We were only about a mile or so west of US 191, just south of Clifton. Our route this day would take us east for several miles, then northward toward the southern part of the Blue Range Primitive area. This day would see the last of the harsh terrain and conditions of the low Arizona desert and start putting us into the higher, greener elevations.

On Day 20, April 30, 2015, we arose early, as always, fed the horses, rolled up our beds, had breakfast, and hit the trail again. We hit US 191 before 10:00am. Our first challenge of the day. The State of Arizona, or maybe the Bureau of Land Management, made this very nice gate there at the cattle guard at the approach to the crossing. Problem was, the gate would not open. The bottom foot or so was buried in sand. Took me about a half hour to dig it out, so we could open it far enough to get the horses through.

Lunchtime and a rest
Lunchtime and a rest

After that, we crossed the highway and rode the shoulder for about a quarter mile north to join Table Top Road, which took us north, then turned southeast for several miles to a small township, of which I cannot recall the name. It was more like a housing development than a town. As we entered the town, we found a small grassy spot near a diversion dam, where we let the horses graze for an hour while we had lunch and rested in the shade of a tree. It was a good stop for us, because little did we know what was waiting for us.

After passing through another small township, on Ward Canyon Road, we turned northeast on Skyline View Road, then took a right on Rattlesnake Road. Rattlesnake Road was a dirt road that headed northeast toward the mountains. The terrain we had been passing through up to this point was regular old Arizona desert. Very little vegetation, other than greasewood and the occasional mesquite tree. The rocky ground was not quite as bad as what he passed through the previous two days, but it was still rough. It was nice to have a dirt road going in the direction we needed. After several more miles we came to the end of the road. Well, at least the maintained road. We found ourselves coming to a USFS road that obviously hadn’t been maintained in a while. We could see it stretching before us, climbing straight up a narrow, very steep canyon. Rattlesnake Canyon.

From the top of Rattlesnake Canyon
From the top of Rattlesnake Canyon

Luckily, there was a good waterhole at the foot of the road, where we watered the horses. We were joined there by a herd of horses. I doubt they were mustangs, but they were pretty wild. The road was extremely rocky, but at least it wasn’t all volcanic rock. The canyon was scenic, but the climb was so steep we didn’t get to look around a lot. I recorded a short clip or two on my iphone, but the battery started to go, so about half way up the canyon I got my GoPro out and tried to get a couple more clips.

We climbed 1200 feet in under a mile. We had to stop a number of times to rest the horses. By the time we crested the saddle at the top of the canyon, we were resting the horses every 100 yards or so. We got a good laugh as we came to the last hairpin turn before the crest. There was a “dangerous curve” sign just after the turn, on the high side. Yep. Big as life, a real live Arizona road sign. I can tell you that even a rock climbing Jeep, or a 4-wheeler, for that matter, would think twice before tackling that road! Lucky for us, our horse feed was running low, so our horses were packed lightly.

This day I rode Ranger and Dad rode Jimbo. Daisy was again developing saddle sores on her withers and Lizzy had a sore back. Lizzy had started developing a lump on her back, about where my saddle cantle rode, on Wednesday. I suspected there were two factors involved: my having to carry Clancy in the saddle for much of the day on Wednesday and the fact that she had started to drop a little weight, which made her already prominent spine (Fox Trotters are built that way) even more prominent, which caused the saddle to put pressure there.  I had given her a helping of bute with her morning feeding and she was packed very lightly. The pack saddle allowed her to move with no pressure on her sore spot. I hoped that would help.

Clancy was making work of things. His paws were very sore and his strength wasn’t recovering with a night’s rest as he had early in the trip. He was simply wearing down. On this day I carried him most of the day on my saddle on Ranger.

The pond at the top of Rattlesnake
The pond at the top of Rattlesnake

We took a short break at the top, looked around, rested the horses, then headed on down the road. The descent on the other side was not steep, but quite gradual. It was also treed with oak, juniper, and cedar. There was grass and other vegetation. It was a completely different world that the other side of the hill. After a short distance we came to a small pond with an old line cabin. We watered the horses there, but didn’t stop long. We had to make several more miles before we could stop for camp.

I don’t know whose ranch land we were passing through (I’m sure it was BLM range), but I can tell you they had some good cowboys. This land was very well maintained, with well-maintained stock ponds every mile or so. We saw evidence at every turn of hard work having been put into keeping up that range over many years. What a beautiful ranch it was.

Just before sunset we came upon a stock pond with a very nice corral. There were nice trees and a perfect level spot for camp. Problem was that there was this huge black angus bull occupying the campsite. Eventually we were able to crowd him off our selected spot, but he stayed close by all night. Seemed like he liked the company. We watered the horses, then released them into the corral. They enjoyed the freedom of not being tied and all had a good roll. We enjoyed our camp that evening, although we were beat, having made 16.4 miles.

After a short night, we were up again at sunrise. We were packed and moving by 9:00 am. Our goal for the day was to pass the Martinez Ranch, on the San Francisco River, about a couple miles from the confluence with the Blue River, start up the Blue, then camp at a stock tank on Pat Mesa. After that, we would head north on the Blue, entering the Blue Wilderness Area. We had a stopover planned at a friend’s place at Blue, Arizona, which we believed we would reach by Sunday. Turned out that was very optimistic. We hoped to be able to have someone meet us there to take Clancy back to Eagar with them. He was having a hard time of it.

We enjoyed Day 21. As I said, we passed through some very nice ranch land. We passed through rolling hills for most of the day, and the weather was pleasant. We passed the Martinez Ranch just before lunchtime. It didn’t look like there was anybody around, so we kept going. We rode down to the San Francisco River, watered the horses, then let them graze for an hour. We had our lunch there and refilled our canteens. That was about the 250-mile mark on our journey.

From there we followed the river west for about two miles, to the confluence of the Blue River. These were tough miles, during which we crossed the river six times. One crossing was deep enough to come up over my boot tops, but not deep enough to flood our pack paniers. The trail along the river had not been maintained, so it was difficult to follow, however we were again blessed.  A four-wheeler had passed through not many days before us (judging by the tracks) and the rider had marked the trail with ribbons. Without that, we would have had a very difficult time finding our way those two miles.

At the confluence of the Blue, we turned north to follow it. The Blue River bed was much wider and more spread-out than the San Francisco. It was quite beautiful and was much easier traveling.  We followed the river for a quarter mile or so, but saw that it was coming from a very narrow canyon. The map showed that if we entered that canyon we’d be stuck in it for several miles before it spread out. Not knowing what we might find in there and being concerned about quick sand and the thick willows growing along the banks, and just having bushwhacked along the San Francisco for two miles, we elected to seek a route up out of the canyon and to keep to the mesa until we reached Juan Miller Road the next day.

Our 1967 USGS map showed a trail that ascended up out of the canyon where we were, but our current topo map did not show it. We searched around a bit, expecting that the trail was not maintained anymore. We finally came upon it and found the USFS or BLM had plowed it up and put up berms to keep it from being used. Lucky for us they did, or we would never have been able to follow the trail! Had they just left it alone, it would have grown over and disappeared, but their efforts to close the trail by placing a berm in it every twenty yards or so, guided us up the steep trail until we reached the top at Pat Mesa. By this time, Dad and I were bushed, as were the horses. The last three or four miles had been tough ones.  We began looking for a camp, still about three or four miles short of our goal.

We saw a stock tank on the map, which gave us hope, but when we reached it, it was dry. We continued on, thinking we would be making a dry camp. We finally came upon a suitable place, with a small clearing among cedar and juniper trees, but as we were about to dismount, I noticed across a canyon that a two-track road turned up into the mouth of a canyon. At the mouth of the canyon I could see some sort of structure. I told Dad I thought it might indicate a water source, as I could think of no other reason for a road and a structure out in this area. It was only about two more miles to round the head of the canyon and cross over, so we continued.

Lucky we did, because we came upon an improved and running spring, with a cowboy camp and a corral. Apparently it was a working camp, but every body had headed to town for the weekend (it was Friday evening). We imposed ourselves on their hospitality and set up camp, tossing our sleeping bags in their tent. It was nice and we slept well. We left them a “thank you” note and let them know we left the camp like we found it. Ruth Brockman, of the Turkey Creek Ranch, sent me an email later, saying she had received my note and were glad we had made ourselves comfortable. She invited us back for a visit whenever we get back down that way. I’d like to do that sometime.  We made 16 miles that Day.

Saturday, May 2, Day 22, was more of the same, traveling across Pat Mesa, following a “cat track” that was used as a ranch road. Again, we saw much evidence of hard work being put it to maintain the range and keep it in good condition, which it was. The road was fairly easy until we got a couple miles short of Juan Miller Road, at which point it became very hilly and rocky. It became a lot of work on the horses. That’s one problem with following a “cat track”. They are named that, because they are bulldozed out of the mountains. Bulldozers are nicknamed Cats, after the company Caterpillar. Cats don’t necessarily take the easy route and don’t make many switchbacks. When they do, you know it’s a steep hillside.

We had just descended down into Pigeon Creek and were looking at two options: we could turn east about a quarter mile and strike the Blue River, following it upstream for less than two miles to Juan Miller Road, or we could stick with the cat track for another 4 miles to get there. We were still leery of following the river, so we decided to go with the known-quantity and continue on the cat track. We climbed the very steep ascent out of Pigeon Creek and were just cresting out when we came upon a hiker. We stopped and talked to him for a few minutes. It took me about two minutes to recognize him as a man with whom I had communicated online about two years before regarding possible routes for us through these mountains. What are the chances?

Brett Tucker is a long-distance hiker, who knows southeastern Arizona like the back of his hand. He has the website “Grand Enchantment Trail“, which documents a long-distance trail he designed through several mountain ranges in southeastern Arizona. He just happened to be out scouting a new route for a trail. Much of the route I selected for our trip was based on his advice. Once I realized who he was (he recognized me at about the same time) we asked his advice for our route to Juan Miller Road. He suggested that we turn around and head down Pigeon Creek to the Blue and follow it. He assured us it was a safe, easy, and scenic passage for horses. We followed along with him until we reached the Blue, at which point we said our goodbyes and he turned south while we went north.

Incidentally, after we finished the trip, Brett sent me an email. He said he returned to Juan Miller road via the cat track. When he reached the road he found the gate locked. Our passage would have been blocked. What a disappointment that would have been for us.  Another of those simple little “tender mercies” of the Lord to help us along on our trip.

And thus began the most pleasant part of our trip, traveling up the Blue River to Blue, then up Red Hills Road and over the top to Eagar.

We headed up the Blue then, crossing back and forth across the crystal clear water about ankle deep most of the time. Cottonwood trees grow along the banks and willows are thick in many places, but we were always able to find a decent way through. In some places the cliff walls became very tall, imposing, and beautiful. There were places where the river passed through narrow cracks in the cliff walls, and we passed through in the river. Travel wasn’t easy, but it was pleasant. We made the short couple miles to Juan Miller Road, then headed west until we found a two-track designated 4-wheel-drive road that headed north. That road took us to the historic Fritz Ranch, now a USFS property. We took Blue Trail #101, which heads there at Fritz Ranch. The trail follows the Blue River all the way to Blue Road, and that was our plan. We planned to make camp about 6 miles or so up the trail at the HU-Bar Ranch, which is an old abandoned ranch house, used by many passers-by as a camp stop.

This day I was riding Daisy. I had both Ranger and Lizzy under pack. Turned out that Ranger showed a sore back the night before. Had to be from carrying Clancy in the saddle. Not only that, but holding Clancy in my lap caused me to sit back farther in the saddle and caused me some back strain. I was developing a very painful knot in my upper back.

The days on the trail, through very difficult country, had taken its toll on us. Dad and I had found ourselves becoming increasingly short-tempered with ourselves, with each other, and with our horses. We were tired, the horses were tired, Clancy was tired…we were just beat. It was Saturday afternoon and we were looking forward to a much-needed Sunday rest.

No more than about 1/2 mile up Blue Trail #101, one of the horses started acting up a little and I was getting angry at him. My anger was spreading through the whole bunch of us pretty quickly. Suddenly, I looked around us and saw that we were in a pretty decent place for a camp. I turned to Dad and said, “We’re camping right here tonight!” We were about five or six miles short of our goal for the day, but we were done. We made camp right there. We made 17.2 miles that day, 273 total miles on the trip.

We didn’t spend a lot of time with things that afternoon. We simply cared for the horses and staked them out on the plentiful grass, then went to work setting up our camp. We had a couple hours before sunset, so we just rested and relaxed while the horses grazed. Turned out this was a good decision and we were camped in a pleasant spot.

On Sunday morning we stayed in bed a little longer than usual. The weather was pleasant, the morning cool, and we were comfortable. After we arose, we fed the horses a bit and moved them to new areas to graze. We found that Black was a bit lame. Both his rear fetlocks were quite swollen. We gave him some bute with the feed and hoped that rest and some prayers would have him ready to go again the following day.

Lizzy and Ranger seemed to be doing better. Their backs were much better. Daisy’s saddle sores were getting worse, though. Nothing we could do about it. We had taken it as easy on Daisy as we could, to the detriment of the other horses. All we could do was to keep salve on them to keep them soft and lubricated. Clancy was doing a little better, after having been hauled in my saddle for much of the previous day. Dad and I were losing weight quite rapidly. The miles were showing on all of us, except Jimbo the mustang and Honey the mule. They seemed impervious to all the travel and work. They looked just about like they did when we started the trip 23 days before. Not a mark on them.

We had learned by now that our herd of horses…and one silly mule…would follow Ranger about wherever he went, but that Lizzy was the Queen Bee of the herd. Ranger would generally stay where she was and the rest would hang around Ranger. We had also learned that Lizzy tended not to stay in one place very long. She would graze for a couple minutes in one place, then walk off 20-30 feet and start again, which kept our whole herd moving constantly. We found that if we staked Lizzy the rest of the horses would settle down and graze lazily in the same general area. So, that’s what we did for Sunday. I tied Lizzy and moved her to a new spot every couple hours and the rest of the herd stayed around in the general area, calm and relaxed.

I went down to the river to wash clothes and take a bath. It was…refreshing, to say the least! While I was down at the river, I suddenly heard a whinney from way down the canyon, maybe a quarter mile, then an answer from Lizzy, tied there at the edge of camp. Suddenly there was the drum of hooves at full gallop rushing toward camp. I got to where I could see, just in time to watch our entire herd run full speed through camp! Luckily, they stayed mostly to the trail and didn’t actually run over our camp. They stopped immediately after passing through camp, turned around and came back to see Lizzy. Then they all settled down to grazing calmly again.

Dad and I passed a particularly lazy and restful day. The horses and Clancy did the same. We were all healing and resting our tired bodies and minds. The horses seemed to particularly enjoy the day off. A fresh bath put me in a very restful and relaxed mood. We all felt pretty good. It was a good day.

That night, Dad and I were sound asleep, sleeping very well indeed, when I was awakened by a whinney way off in the distance, then an answer from Lizzy, tied right there at the edge of camp…OH NO!!!!!

Stay tuned for the last five days of our wonderful horse packing adventure in my next post.

P.S.

I have discovered a work-around to fix my upside-down photos on the posts. Eventually I’ll go back and repair the older posts. Thanks for your patience.