I’m finally getting around to it.

Last May, Jeff Palmer and I completed another leg of the Mexico-to-Canada horse pack trip my father and I started in the spring of 2015. Dad and I made two legs of the trip, starting about 19 miles west of Douglas, Arizona, with our horses actually tied to the border barriers between the United States and Mexico in April 2015, and ending at Flagstaff in May, 2016.

Dad and I stopped there at Flagstaff, at the home of a friend, Gwen Kahler, to resupply, get the horses re-shod, and to get fresh health certificates for the horses, in anticipation of a crossing of the Grand Canyon the following week.

However, Mother Nature is unpredictable and sometimes fickle, and as she would have it, northern Arizona was in the midst of a severe drought and wildfires were everywhere. In the last 20+ miles into the Flagstaff area only days before, Dad and I had come across not a single drop of water, no, not even a damp place in the earth. We had to call for help from Gwen and her husband to haul water to our camp, so we could water the horses. We had narrowly escaped one forest fire and had already been re-routed around another. We decided to call ourselves lucky and stop there at Flagstaff for a season.

The following year, my primary horse, Lizzy, was in-foal. That, along with several other unrelated factors, made it necessary to hold off another year for the next leg of the trip. During the intervening time, Dad, at age 84, was bucked off his horse and had sustained some pretty severe internal injuries. After his recovery, he let me know his horse riding days were done. He was ready to call it a great run and hang up his spurs. I have to admit that was a tough time for me. At the same time, I feel very blessed to have been able to ride the trails and mountains and valleys, and cross the streams we have crossed, horseback,  with my dad.

What a blessing it has been to me, and I hope to my dad as well. We have seen things and experienced things few fathers and sons will experience together.

So, as I started planning the next leg of the trip, I began to plan without Dad. Luckily, my good friend Jeff Palmer stepped up and said he wanted to give it a try with me. We began to plan for a trip of just over 100 miles, by my calculations, from Flagstaff to the South Rim of the Grand Canyon National Park.

The fact that the two of us would travel to Flagstaff separately made logistics simple. I went down a few days early, during which time I scouted out our route and was able to place jugs of water and sacks of feed at strategic spots along the trail, to ensure we had sufficient feed for the horses and sufficient water for ourselves. As I was traveling along the path we would follow, or as close to it as the ranch roads would take me, it started to rain. Solid dirt turned to deep mud and I found myself at risk for getting stuck out in the middle of nowhere with my horses back at camp near Flagstaff. I found that if I kept my speed up I could float right through the mires and bogs I encountered along the way. My main concern was just keeping the truck on the road as I powered through. To say the least, though, it was a lot of fun! Late in the afternoon I arrived at Tusayan, where we would finish our trip, having scouted the route and placed our feed and water along the way. My odometer read 86 miles.

While I was looking for a place to stash feed and water near the trail at the Grandview lookout tower, just outside the park boundary about 16 miles east of Tusayan, I came across a couple hikers who had been hiking the entire Arizona Trail. They identified themselves by pseudonyms, wisely, so I do not know their true names, but Southern Comfort (he) and Groceries (she) were making 25 miles per day and were just finishing their day, having passed some of the stretch I had just driven. They were out of water, so I shared my water with them, saving them a couple miles of hiking at the end of a long day to find water. A hearty and happy couple. Their story is enchanting. He is from North Carolina and she is from California. They met on a hike and were married a couple weeks later. They have been hiking together ever since.

The following day, I saddled up Apollo and, leading Calypso, went for a short ride through the trees north of Flagstaff. It was a very pleasant ride. Apollo required a little work to get him used to crossing water again. I’m not sure he had any appreciable experience outside an arena before he came to me, however he was progressing well. Calypso was fine on the trail.

In the past week or so I noticed Apollo was losing weight. I expected him to trim down, due to the mileage I had put on him over the past month and a half, but he was dropping weight too quickly. After our ride, I noticed he was acting like he had pain in the kidney area and was having trouble urinating. That concerned me. It was not colic, as he was passing manure normally. I decided a trip to the vet was in order.

Jeff arrived about 3pm that afternoon (Sunday). I explained the problem, so we put off our departure for the pack trip one day, so I could get Apollo in to see a vet. I was able to contact a vet and received a call-back. I was able to get him in to see the only large-animal vet in the area at 8am Monday morning. The vet’s assessment was that Apollo had a urinary tract infection, possibly occasioned by drinking brackish water on the wagon train expedition we had ridden a couple weeks before, north of Salt Lake City, Utah, for the commemoration of 150 years since the Golden Spike celebration of the joining of the railroads. He prescribed a regimen of antibiotics and a pre-biotic food supplement and sent us on our way. To save explanation later on, suffice it to say the antibiotics worked and Apollo made the trip in good health without pain.

On Monday afternoon, Jeff and I drove our vehicles to Tusayan to stage my truck and trailer at the end of our trail. We parked it about a mile east of Tusayan, along USFS Road 302, where primitive camping is permitted. That evening, Jeff treated me to a mouth-watering medium-rare bone-in ribeye steak in Flagstaff. Jeff is a great guy to have along on a horse pack trip!

We got our pack trip underway around noon on Tuesday, May 14, 2019, which was still within our planned travel dates. The first day of travel was in the foothills of the San Francisco Peaks on the north side of Flagstaff, at an elevation of just over 9,000′, heading northward. This was the most beautiful part of our trip and we took a lot of photos and truly enjoyed the ride. (Click on a photo to see larger versions)

The horses performed well and gave us no trouble. We moved right along and made nearly 21 miles before stopping for the evening.  Surprisingly, we found little water along our route. We made camp near Badger Spring, where we found a little water in the stock pond there.

Jeff and I became aware early on in the trip, that his horses and Calypso would waste no time in heading back toward our camp at Flagstaff at any opportunity, if left free, but Apollo would stay with Calypso, no matter where she was. That evening, while Jeff and I made camp and had our freeze-dried dinners, I let Apollo graze loose, while the rest of the horses were high-lined.  After dinner, I went to check on the horses and give Apollo his medicine and discovered that Calypso had slipped her halter and she and Apollo were nowhere to be found.

Jeff and I quickly saddled his horses, Cottontop and Tank, and headed back down the trail to try to head off my horses before they got too far. We found them less than a mile from camp, but they kept ahead of us and would not allow us to come up to them. Finally, about another mile down the trail, they came up to a cattle guard and fence line that stopped them in their progress. They turned and headed along the fence line. As it was long after dark and my horses are black, we could not see them and did not know how far they had gone along the fence line. I had been working on teaching Apollo and Calypso to come at my whistle prior to coming on this trip, so I decided to give that a try. I whistled as loud as I could. Within a few minutes, I heard them coming, with Apollo in the lead. They let me come up to them and seemed glad to see me. We led them back to camp without trouble. After that experience, I tightened Calypso’s halter and we were careful about making sure all four horses were tied securely at night.

The following day we made 24 miles, which included  a stop about 14 miles back, at a ranch where I had staged feed. We were now down out of the pines and into the cedars and junipers and sage. While our campsite had no water or grass, the horses had been fed and watered well around mid-day, so they were fine. We had planned to make it to Lockwood Tank that day, but the horses were tired and so were we. We made the wise choice to camp, rather than push further. This camp was not ideal, but it got us out of the breeze for the night.

The following morning, as we were packing up, we had our first wreck. It wasn’t much, but it added a little excitement to our trip. While Jeff was packing up Cottontop, the pack saddle slipped to the side before he got his second pack on and Cottontop went to bucking!  He finally got it all off and settled down. No harm done and no equipment broken. Those bear-resistant hard panniers, from Outfitters Supply, are tough! We picked up the gear and re-packed Cottontop and all went well from there.

We made Lockwood Tank that day around noon. I had cached feed there, so we took a lunch break and watered and fed the horses.

After Lockwood, our next waypoint was Moqui Station, where I had staged more feed and a jug of water for ourselves. Since we were making more miles per day than anticipated, my staging points were out of sync with our actual travel. We reached Moqui Station in the early afternoon. Our water jug had been turned over and leaked and was empty. We fed the horses again, but they weren’t much interested. We decided to keep going another 8 miles to Russell Tank, where we would find water for ourselves and another sack of feed for the horses.

My followers will recall that last year, my best trail buddy, Clancy, my Blue Heeler, passed away. Since I had no appropriate place to bury him, I had his body cremated and had planned to spread his ashes somewhere along the trail between Mexico and Canada. As I moved along the trail on a hilltop somewhere between Lockwood and Moqui Station, I decided the time and place were right.

There was a light breeze and the smell of sage was pleasant. I took out the small velvet bag that held Clancy’s ashes, said a small prayer of gratitude for having had Clancy in my life, and gently poured the ashes out along the trail. It was a spiritual experience for me…that is until the breeze picked the ashes out of the air and covered me and my horse in them! Ugh! Ashes in my nose, in my mouth, on my face, in my eyes, on my glasses, all over my saddle and my black horse!

I guess Clancy had the last laugh after all!  So long, buddy. See you on the other side.

Russell Tank is actually a small lake and a beautiful place. It is a place commonly visited for fishing and picnicking and camping. The USFS has built a nice restroom facility, which is where I had cached a sack of feed. We watered and fed our horses and settled down for a nice evening. We had again made 21 miles and we and the horses were tired. We decided a little rest in this place was needed, so we planned for a short day of travel for the following day.

We enjoyed our camp at Russell Tank. Jeff braved the very cold water and took a bath in the lake. I satisfied myself with a simple cowboy shower (spongebath). We relaxed and spent the morning just resting ourselves and the horses. We all needed it.

In the early afternoon, we packed up and headed on down the trail to Grandview Lookout, only about 12 miles away. That would be our planned travel for the day.

We made Grandview about 5pm and set up camp just off the USFS road. It was a good camp. We got sprinkled on a little, which was the first precipitation we had experienced since Flagstaff.

The following morning, we packed up and started out on the last leg of our pack trip. We knew it was only about 15 miles to the place where we had staged my truck and trailer and we were two days ahead of our planned travel schedule, so we were pleased with the way things had gone, but we were not in a hurry.

It was then, when we were most relaxed, that we had our big wreck.

It was Jeff’s turn to open the next gate and we soon came upon a cattle guard and gate we needed to pass through. Jeff dismounted from Tank and snubbed Cottontop’s lead rope to the saddle horn. Apparently, Cottontop decided to try to graze, which caused a pull on the saddle horn, which caused Tank to pull back, and soon both Tank and Cottontop were galloping away down our backtrail together. As Tank ran, Cottontop ran to keep up, which caused Tank to speed up all the more. I had also let Calypso follow loose along with our string. She joined in the excitement and headed off down the trail, following Tank and Cottontop.

I whistled for Calypso, at which she stopped and looked back, not knowing what to do. She didn’t immediately return to me, but stayed in the area. By this time Tank and Calypso were at a full run. Luckily, I was still mounted and Apollo, although excited, was handling the excitement well. I turned to follow the horses, but they kept well out ahead of me.

Eventually, they turned through the trees and Cottontop’s lead rope pulled loose from the Tank’s saddle horn. Tank then slowed down and turned back toward us, but Cottontop’s packsaddle was slipping by this time and things were flopping. The hard panniers banged loudly on trees as Cottontop ran.  Finally a strap broke as Cottontop ran past a pine tree and banged one of the hard panniers. Things began to unravel at that point.

Finally, both panniers came loose and Cottontop circled back to his human partners, looking for help. I had followed the horses on Apollo, while Jeff followed on foot. Cottontop came right to me and let me catch him, still huffing and puffing from his fright. I tied Apollo and held Cottontop, while Jeff caught up. Tank and Calypso also came back to us. I figure the horses ran nearly two miles in all, maybe that’s an exaggeration, but it can’t be far off. We were lucky they circled back, rather than heading straight down the trail.

We checked Cottontop over and found he had a pretty ugly scrape on the backside of his left front leg, just below the knee, but it wasn’t serious. We were very relieved to find he had some bangs and bruises, but no serious injury.

We were also pretty amazed to find that the only damage to the pack saddle and panniers was that one pack ring in the side of a pannier had pulled out. We were able to make a quick repair for that and shortly thereafter had Cottontop repacked and ready to move on down the trail at a more reasonable pace.

We stopped at Grandview Lookout tower for a few minutes, but, after the excitement of the morning, neither of us had the gumption to climb the stairs of the tower for a look. We decided to just head on down the trail toward Tusayan. Grandview Lookout is, in fact, only a couple miles outside the Grand Canyon National Park boundary. We had thoughts to head down the USFS road to enter the park and maybe get a few photos of the canyon, but we decided to forego that and just finish our pack trip. We will get plenty of photos of the canyon in May 2020, when we plan to cross the canyon and make our way on up to the Arizona/Utah border.

Shortly after leaving Grandview Lookout, we came across the only significant wildlife of our trip. We surprised a fair sized herd of elk, grazing in a meadow. A little later we came upon another, smaller herd of elk. Other than the elk, on the entire trip we saw one coyote, a couple squirrels, a couple horned toads, and a snake. That was it! I have no explanation for it, but it was disappointing.

We made our endpoint near Tusayan at about 3:15pm on Saturday. In all, our GPS units generally agreed that we made approximately 94 miles, beginning to end.  After unloading and brushing the horses down, we loaded them and our gear into the trailer and headed for Flagstaff. We stopped at the McDonalds in Tusayan for a bit of refreshment and feel-good food to enjoy during the drive.

Back at our base camp at Flagstaff, we highlined the horses, separated our gear, and got ready for the trip back to Utah. We left the horses and drove into town, where Jeff rented a motel room. We each enjoyed a hot shower, after which Jeff again treated me to a steak dinner.

The following day, Sunday, Jeff and I said our goodbyes and separated. He headed back to Utah, while I headed for Eagar, Arizona to visit my parents for a few days.

So, another leg of my Mexico-to-Canada horse pack trip has been completed. As I mentioned before, Jeff an I are planning the next leg for May 2020. We will begin at the Grand Canyon National Park, cross the canyon south-to-north on the Arizona Trail, and make our way up to the Utah/Arizona border…maybe even farther.

Many thanks to Jeff for being a great trail partner and friend.