Over the past several months, a number of friends and followers of my blog have asked how they might contribute to helping Dad and me get underway on the second leg of our Mexico-to-Canada horse pack trip. I have always been pretty much a “do-it-yourself” kind of guy, having been raised by a father who was that way, so asking for assistance is sometimes difficult. However, we have been the grateful recipients of help in many ways, including support on the trail, guides, farriers, transportation, gear, stopover points, and also a bit of financial help.
Over the years, I have enjoyed the good feelings I get when I have had opportunity to share in another’s success by helping in any way I can. Sometimes the only way I can help is by a small financial contribution. While time is always more valuable than money, good causes are always worthy of help and sometimes there is no other way for me to contribute positively than to donate financially. Well, maybe it’s our turn to be on the receiving end.
This adventure of ours has been far more expensive than I had anticipated. I have had to draw from family savings because the expenses have exceeded the income I have been able to bring in from my current post-retirement work. I purchased almost all our gear last year, including a well-used 4-horse trailer. Our total expenses for last year’s trip exceeded $23,000.
This year I purchased about $1,500 worth of gear as well as a new horse for the trip, as I had to replace my Fox Trotter mare, who is game, but proved not to be the right horse for the trip. Many of the expenses for this year’s trip have been unanticipated. Last month, on the return from our tune-up trip to Moab, Utah, I blew the engine in my truck. The rebuild and other repairs associated with getting the truck ready for this year’s trip have run in excess of $10,000 over the past two months. Since I bought the horse trailer I have blown four tires on the rear axle. Two were brand new tires. Last week I took the trailer in to have it checked, to see what might be the cause. The problem was diagnosed as a slightly bent rear axle. Having a new axle installed, along with having the front bearings repacked and the brakes and backing plates replaced, ran me $2170. The trailer is still at the shop with further adjustments being made. Hopefully, this will fix the problem of having to buy a new set of trailer tires every other trip. Last week I replaced four tires on my truck. There went another $1,000.
My plan for the year was to be able to cover all our expenses for gear, vehicle, fuel, etc, and have $5,000 in my trip account before I started. All the above unanticipated expenses have shot that plan all to heck and I’m back into family savings. My good wife, bless her heart, is still supportive of our trip.
Recently we received good news that much of our horse feed would be donated by an anonymous donor. Friends and family are donating time. Still to come are expenses for fuel for the trip, including fuel for our support help, horse feed, people feed, and other expenses we will incur once we actually start making tracks.
For those of you who have been following the blog and enjoying our father and son adventure through my writing and who have been asking how you may help, I have created a “Donate” button on the website. It connects to my PayPal account. You will find a “Donate” menu item on the main menu. It will take you to the page with the PayPal Donate button. For those who wish it, I will keep the donations confidential. For those who don’t mind, I will create a list of contributors to post on the website after the ride this year is done.
Today I have been thinking about the horses we’ll be taking on the big ride. This year we’ve decided to take only two pack horses. We feel like there will be more feed along most of the way this year, due to the different terrain and elevations we will be riding through, so we won’t have to pack as much feed as we did last year. Also, we found that handling six horses was a real chore for us. We finished the last week of last year’s trip with four horses and found it much easier on us. We’ve also cut down the amount of camp gear we will have this year. We took a lot of “just in case” stuff that we won’t have this year.
As I’ve said before, I’ll be taking Ranger, my Fox Trotter Paint, Jimbo, my free mustang, and Reno, the new QH Paint I recently bought. Dad will bring his QH gelding, Little Black.
I’ll also be hauling Lizzy, my Fox Trotter mare, down there, but leaving her in Eagar, AZ as a spare…just in case. I’m actually sorry I can’t take her on the ride. She is the best trail horse I have, but I learned last year that she just isn’t the right horse for a pack trip like this. She has a very slick and light coat of hair in the summer and it just doesn’t give her the protection from abrasion that she needs. Last year she got rub sores everywhere she was touched by a strap on the pack saddle rigging. I think it’s her long-strided, swinging walk that does it. Ironically, it’s that walk that I love on the trail. She really loves to be out and going. Other horses have to trot (or Fox Trot) to keep up with her walk. She is a horse I trust implicitly on the trail.
The horse I plan to have my saddle on most of the time during the 620-mile, 8-9 week pack trip this year is Ranger, my good old buddy. Ranger is a grade Fox Trotter gelding about 8 years old this year. I’ve had him about a year-and-a-half now. He was with us on last year’s leg of the big pack trip. He and I have bonded. Now, when I say “bonded” I am fully aware that normally means the rider has bonded with the horse – not necessarily vice-versa. My experience tells me that most horses don’t “love” their owners nearly as much as their owners “love” their equine companion. My experience also tells me that once in a while there comes along a horse that breaks the mold. I put Ranger in that latter category. I think Ranger is bonding with me more and more, as time and experience together unfolds. I consider him as much a trail “bud” as I do my faithful dog, Clancy.
Now, Ranger isn’t the prettiest of horses. I always wanted to have a horse that when we passed by, folks would look and say, “Now, there’s a good looking horse!” Ranger isn’t that horse. He might even be considered by some to be homely. Ranger stands about 16 hands, has a very deep chest and long legs. Seems like his ribs always show, regardless of how much he’s fed, even when he has a hay belly. He has a short, straight back and tall withers. He has what cowboys commonly call, “cat hips” because he always looks gaunt, like he’s about half-starved. His neck is maybe a little long, in proportion to his back, his hind quarters are sloped and smallish, he has a narrow chest, a big head, and he’s turkey-toed. He reminds me of the tall, skinny basketball player who can’t seem to put on any weight, yet is strong and athletic.
Ranger, long, tall, lanky
Ranger
Me, Ranger, and Reno, south of Moab, Utah
Lizzy with her new pasture mate and trail partner, Ranger
Ranger and I at Antelope Island, 01/01/2015
And Ranger is strong! He is athletic! He has the smoothest movement of any horse I have ever ridden. I’m not just talking about his gaits, but his movement. Ranger moves smoothly in everything he does. Even when he’s acting up, which he occasionally does, it is smooth. I love that. When he moves into his Fox Trot, he can really cover ground. He’s not as fast in it as some horses I’ve seen, but he moves right along. He has a good flat-footed walk that equates well in speed with a Quarter Horse’s jog, and a lope that is like sitting in a rocking chair. I truly enjoy riding this guy.
But, I think the thing I like most about Ranger is his willingness to go just about anywhere and do anything I ask. That’s not to say I don’t have to convince him now and again. He is not totally without caution, but once convinced, he simply goes. He is the most sure-footed horse I have ever had the pleasure to ride…unless it’s Lizzy. Last year, in the Chiricahua National Monument, as we crossed those rough mountains, we ended up trying a trail that hadn’t been maintained in a number of years. As we got up into Whitetail Canyon, the trail sort of peter’d out and we were bushwhacking – four mules and five horses, four of which were under packsaddles, four under riding saddle, and one being ponied.
One of our guides was on a mule that I’m pretty sure was part billy goat. You never quite knew who was in charge of that team, the rider, Al Smith, or the mule. It seemed to be sort of a cooperative arrangement – sometimes Al was in charge and sometimes he just held on for dear life. It was a marvel to watch them work. Anyway, to get back to Ranger, finally the trail became so bad that Al and I left Dad and Joshua with the pack animals and we went on ahead to make sure we could get all the stock through the next part of the canyon. I’m here to tell you Al’s mule would move right on through the roughest terrain, up, down, over ledges, it just didn’t matter. That’s where I began to learn a lot I hadn’t previously known about Ranger. My boy stayed right behind that mule and did everything he did without any hesitation whatsoever. He even went through some places Al steered around. I learned then that Ranger was a horse I could trust in the rough stuff to get me where I needed to go and back.
Last month I took Ranger on a ride back into the old Robber’s Roost area of Butch Cassidy and the Wild Bunch fame. We descended into Horseshoe Canyon by the original trail used by the Wild Bunch. Stories tell us that when posses arrived at the head of that trail, they started thinking about their wives and kids back in town and just turned around right there. I am here to tell you they made the right choice! That was one heck of a descent into the canyon! That was a trail on which you only take horses you really trust.
Fortunately, I had my GoPro camera in a hat-mount and had the presence of mind to turn it on before we started down. You’ll see that video in my next post. After viewing that clip, you’ll see what I mean about Ranger’s willingness and sure-footedness and why I enjoy riding him. You’ll also see Lizzy doing her thing, as she was carrying my little sister on that trip.
I am very much looking forward to riding Ranger through the Grand Canyon in June.
Jimbo, the mustang that was given to us last year, free of charge, just in time for the ride, turned out to be a Godsend for us. He’s not a BLM mustang, so he doesn’t have the BLM brand, but he’s a real mustang nonetheless. Probably from the Navajo or Jicarilla Apache Reservation. He’s a 8 year-old gelding mustang, bay in color. He has nice, hard, round, black hooves that are nearly as tough as horseshoes. He stands about 14 hands and has a good, solid build. Nothing wrong with him at all.
The first few days on the trail last year he was a real headache, because he was so skittish that you couldn’t even scratch your own head without him taking off and breaking loose. However, he never ran away, thankfully, and within a couple days he settled down and became a very steady saddle and pack horse for us. In fact, by the time we finished last year’s ride – 355 miles in 28 days, over some of the roughest terrain on God’s green earth – he was the only horse we had on the trip that came out completely unscathed. Not a single scratch on him. I guess his natural skittishness, common in former wild mustangs, served him well. He always stayed out of trouble. When the other horses started milling around, he simply backed away and wanted nothing to do with it. Good, solid horse. We were glad to have him along. He’ll be with us on this trip. He’s the one Dad likes to ride. He’s the one I trust the most with my 82 year-old dad.
JImbo, my “free” mustang.
My Utah Meat Bag paniers hung from a Phillips Formfitter pack saddle
Decker-style pack saddle with mantied cargo
Jimbo, Behind the Rocks
Reno is the newcomer to the herd. I bought him in February from a family in Heber, UT. He’s a grade paint, whose sire is APHA registered, but whose dam I know nothing about. He stands about 14-2 hands and he’ll be four years old in June. He’s solidly built, has nice, round hooves (front ones are solid black and hard), nice broad chest and shoulders, nice QH rump and hind quarters. He’s a bit beefier in build than the others. He was sort of raised like a puppy, so while he loves people, almost preferring people to horses, he’s a little disrespectful and undisciplined. I’m working on that and he’s turning out to be a good, solid horse. He has proven to have a very level-headed attitude and is not prone to panicking in difficult situations. I am liking him more and more the longer I have him and the more I use him. He has one of those “in-your-pockets” type of personality, that I rather enjoy, without being pushy. He does well on the trails and is learning quickly to watch where he puts his feet. He stumbles occasionally, but is learning quickly, due to the rough terrain I’ve been training him in.
Reno, as advertised
Reno, Behind the Rocks, Moab, Utah
Last week I took him to a place called Swinging Bridge, south of Price in the San Rafael Swell area of Utah. I used that ride to train Reno how to handle packs, since he’d never been packed before. I put our new set of hard paniers on him and loaded each side with a 40 pound bag of alfalfa pellets. We had a bit of a rodeo when we first started out, as the sounds the hard paniers make – being made of hard plastic – scared him. We went round and round a few times. He settled down pretty quickly, though, and showed no disposition to buck.
Reno, in training with our hard paniers
We went through some pretty rough stuff, including rocks, trees, willow thickets, river crossings, and very steep grades. By the time we were done with the 16-mile ride, he had figured out how to walk around things with those hard paniers. At one point he got “pinched” between two rocks where the paniers wouldn’t fit. He tried to bull his way through a couple times, then just stopped and waited while I unbuckled one panier and lifted it over one rock as he made his way forward. No panic at all. It was a very good training day for him.
It was a good test for the durability of those Trail Max bear-resistant paniers as well, and I can report, with no reservations, that they are, in fact, very durable! Mine can now be considered “broke-in” and bear the scars and marks to prove it. They are tough! I think they’ll be an excellent addition to our gear for the big ride.
Dad will be bringing his little gelding, Black. Black is an unregistered QH, grandson of Doc O’Lena. Being of cutter stock, he’s on the small side, only standing around 13 hands, maybe a bit more. He was bred and raised by my cousin, Steve Hatch, of St. George, Ut and given to my mother as a gift. She can’t ride anymore, so he’s been Dad’s horse for many years. He’s carried Dad on more rides than I can count and through some of the roughest terrain on earth. Dad trusts that little horse implicitly, and that’s important for a man who’s past 81 years old. Little Black is very strongly built, has excellent conformation, strong legs, and very hard hooves. He’s coming on to about 16 years of age, as far as we can figure, so this will be his last major ride. This is the horse Dad will ride through the Grand Canyon, on the South Kaibab and North Kaibab Trails. He’s a gutsy, strong, level-headed little horse and he’ll carry Dad well.
Coming off the Painted Rock descent
Joel Tanner and Cody Winn, USBP Agents at Boss Ranch Road
Dad on Little Black
So, we think we have a good remuda for the big pack trip. We’ve been getting them into condition and we’re about ready to ride.
I’ll depart Salem, Utah on May 16 with a fully loaded truck and trailer and head for Eagar, Arizona, which will be our starting point this year. We’ll do our last-minute preparations there and start making tracks on Dad’s 82nd birthday, May 23, 2016.
Anyone who would like to join in and ride with us to see us off there at Eagar, is more than welcome. We’ll be starting at my place at the north end of Poverty Flat Road, Eagar, AZ about 9:00am.
Anyone who would like to join up with us at any place along our route and ride with us for a few days may contact me at tony.henrie@westerntrailrider.com, so we can coordinate details.
The upcoming ride has been much on my mind these past several weeks. Only three weeks left to get everything ready, and stuff is piling up.
My truck is just about back to premium condition. Still have one oil leak to get fixed. I’ll take it back in after next week, when I can spare it for a few days. Otherwise, it’s running well and I’m quite pleased. I’ll have four new tires put on it next week as well. I’ve put over $10,000 into it in the past year, most in the past month. I had the engine rebuilt, new injectors installed, new A/C system installed, new upgraded steering package, new tires, new parking brakes…sheesh!
Just about have the truck and trailer back into shape
Additionally, I have blown four rear tires on my trailer in the past year, two of them brand new tires. I decided this week to take it in to a shop and have it checked out. Turns out the rear axle is bent. Not enough to cause abnormal tire wear, but enough to overheat the tires when loaded heavily. They’re replacing it today with torsion half-axles. That should fix the tire issue. Blowing a tire with a fully loaded trailer while driving down the freeway at 70+ miles per hour is a melancholy situation. Another $1700 spent, but at least I won’t be having to buy tires every other time I load up and haul.
Reno, in training with our hard paniers
I’ve only had to spend about $1500 this year for gear, though, which has helped. Most of my gear was purchased last year. As you have probably read in my past posts, this year we decided to try a set of hard paniers, so I bought a set of bear-resistant paniers from Outfitter Supply. That was a major purchase. Outside that most of my purchases were smaller items that needed replacing from last year’s ride.
I still need to buy our food and horse feed. I’m talking to a couple places regarding sponsorships or at least a discount on these items. I can use all the help I can get.
Time is flying by. I’m already into scramble mode. May 16, my departure date from Utah, is coming up fast!
Last month Dad and I took a trip down to the Moab, Utah area for a tune-up ride, in preparation for the second leg of our Mexico-to-Canada trip this year. We loaded all four of my horses, three of which will be used on the trip, and hauled from my place in Salem, Utah to Moab. The drive down took us about four hours.
The trip from Salem to Moab is actually an enjoyable drive, for the most part, coming up Spanish Fork Canyon, over Soldier Summit, down Price Canyon, then across some of the most barren desert country in the United States. Once you start heading into the Moab area, though, the scenery becomes spectacular, filled with red sandstone cliffs. You can even see from the highway several prominent natural arches off to the east in Arches National Park.
Blew a trailer tire
About 20 or so miles north of Moab, we blew a tire on the trailer. Luckily it was right before a nice pullout, where we changed the tire to the spare and limped on into Moab. We bought a couple new trailer tires at Chip’s Grand Tire Pros and they had us back on the road in a jiffy.
We traveled on south of Moab to about five miles, to a 4WD designated trail named “Back of the Rocks”. It is located on the north side of highway 191, south of Moab, just as the highway goes up the hill and turns westerly. There is a sign at the road entrance, but it’s not much. If you get to the Kane Springs area you have gone too far. Sorry I didn’t get a mile marker number.
This trail runs northward up on top of the cliff you passed as you drove south out of Moab. It is an easy ride that even a novice can handle, however there are some pretty spectacular views from up there. The trail runs about 2.5 miles or so and ends, so it’s a ride in and out on the same trail in a couple hours. Keep in mind that it is a multi-use trail, so you can expect to pass a number of off-road vehicles, hikers, bikers, and equines on your way.
Here are a few pictures from Back of the Rocks:
Jimbo, Behind the Rocks
Ranger, my Fox Trotter gelding
After riding Back of the Rocks, we loaded back up and headed on south about another 30 miles to Lisbon Valley. We set up camp behind a big red rock my nephews call Turtle Rock. It is located on the east side of Highway 191 at about mile marker 197.25. There is a gate there and a ranch road that leads over behind the rock, where there are corrals. There is no water, so you have to haul your own. Good campsite, though.
The following morning we rode back into the red canyons north and east of camp. I decided to ride my new horse, Reno, who is young and needs some training. Dad rode Jimbo, our mustang. About 3/4 of a mile northeast, down into the dry wash area north of camp, we discovered a cattle watering trough with plenty of fresh, clean water for the horses. From there we made our own trails, as we explored the canyons and hills. We followed one canyon to its end, where we found a little water for the horses. We stopped there to have lunch and rest ourselves and the horses a bit. Later, we followed up a canyon with a creek in the bottom until we figured we had better start back to camp. We did 8.3 miles that day, according to my GPS.
The following day, we headed eastward to explore. It was a little easier riding than the canyons northward. We found a natural arch and climbed our horses up on top of a big, round, sandstone rock. We had an enjoyable day, Dad and I. We wandered around for several hours, putting the horses through a little training, going up and down ledges, over trees, through gulleys, and generally giving them a good workout.
On the way back toward camp, while walking through a dry river bottom with little vegetation and nothing to be concerned about, Ranger, who was ridden by Dad, stepped into a prairie dog hole and sunk up above his knee. He tried to catch himself with his other front, but it too sank, as the fine red sand simply gave way beneath him. Ranger went down onto his forehead, rolling Dad off onto the ground from nearly ground level. Ranger then went on over onto his back, then quickly got back to his feet. Lizzy got excited and began to buck. First time she’s ever bucked with me. She didn’t really have her heart in it, so I rode her out and she calmed down after a short romp. Dad was ok and Ranger was standing head down with his bridle headstall pulled down over his eyes. After a quick check to make sure we still had all our gear and body parts, we remounted and continued our ride.
Here are some pics of the second and third days of riding:
Moab area, March 2016
Lisbon Valley area, about 35 miles south of Moab
Back at camp we picked up the other two horses and ponied them out to the water trough. We then rode them over to the highway, where there is a large culvert that allows livestock to pass under the highway. I figured this was a good training exercise for the horses. We will have to pass through a narrow tunnel in the bottom of the Grand Canyon on the South Kaibab trail, so I wanted the horses to have at least a little experience with tunnels. The culvert was about 12 feet in diameter and ran for probably 200 feet or so. After a little convincing the first time through, the horses slowly got accustomed to the sounds and darkness. We took them through the tunnel several times until they no longer hesitated, before returning to camp.
We then broke camp and headed home, arriving in the late afternoon, concluding a great couple days of riding and training.
I’m sitting here at midnight and can’t seem to get my mind to slow down. I have a thousand thoughts running through my head about the upcoming adventure. There’s a lot to be done in the next thirty days.
Today I received the last piece of horse gear I’m going to buy for the trip. I bought, through Outfitter Supply, a Five Star 1″ wool felt saddle pad with a spine relief cut-out. I like the look of it and have high hopes it will save my Fox Trotter’s back when he starts losing weight during the trip. On the first leg last year, both my Fox Trotters lost weight in the latter part of the trip, causing their spine to contact the underside of the saddle. They both got a sore spot that turned to a calcium deposit from pressure on their spine from the saddle cantle area late in the trip. Hopefully, this saddle pad with the spine relief will alleviate that problem.
Five Star spine-relief saddle pad
I have had a pretty tough schedule this past month, earning money to finance the trip and trying to get in some good rides to start “legging-up” my horses, as well as getting my truck and trailer into road-worthy shape. On the way home from my trip with Dad to Moab a few weeks ago, I blew the engine in my truck. I just got it back this evening with a rebuilt engine, new A/C system, and new injectors. Hopefully it’s ready to go. I actually got it back over a week ago, but it had an oil leak, then on the way home from the trip to Swinging Bridge last week the radiator fan stopped working and I nearly ruined my new engine. I took it back to my mechanic, who got everything squared away and I got it back this evening, hopefully for good.
In the next month I will need to accomplish the following, while keeping up my work and other duties as well:
Buy 4 new tires for my pickup
Get horses shod
Get health inspections on the horses for their travel to Arizona
Pay ahead on my DeLorme Explorer account (my GPS unit)
Contact news outlets regarding our pack trip
Purchase horse and people feed for the trip
Get the trailer brakes adjusted and bearings repacked and check front axle
Put pockets on Dad’s chinks
Make a rifle scabbard
Finish documenting the first leg of the trip on the blog!!!
Replace latigo and billets on my saddle
Replace saddle string on my saddle
Check on my hotel reservations in Panguitch
Get our trip support arranged arranged for
Yep. Lots to get done.
I’m going to do my best to get the rest of last year’s ride fully documented on the blog before we start the second leg on May 23 this year, so stay tuned.
A couple weeks ago, I was searching the Internet for any new developments with regard to electricity production that would work for our pack trip. As you might recall, I bought two solar panels for the trip last year, which worked very well, except on days in which we were riding in the trees and when there was significant cloud cover. There were a few days in which all my battery-powered tools were useless. I missed getting some pretty good photos because of that. Also, if batteries were discharged at the end of the day, the appliance was useless until the next time I could get sunlight to charge with.
So, I was looking for some way to charge things at night, or in the evening. I came across this handy little portable generator that uses heat from a camp stove burner to generate enough electricity to charge one item fairly quickly.
Mini O, by Ajirangi
It is called the Mini O, made by Ajirangi, Inc. I purchased mine through Amazon and it shipped from Korea, where it is manufactured. I found the price to be very reasonable price at $85.00 (compare to a regular laptop plug-in charger from Apple for $80). Shipping was a very reasonable $5.49, and the item arrived in good condition, very well packed, in about two weeks (received it today).
The specifications indicate 5W, 5V/1Amp (max), which should charge a cell phone or my GPS unit in a reasonable amount of time to at least a functional level. I am curious as to just how long it will take to charge my iphone 6 from dead to 100%. It will certainly take some propane. I don’t expect to have to use this thing every night, but it will certainly be handy for those few nights when we really need it.
Siliconized rubber upper
The unit has a machined aluminum base with a collapsible upper body of heat resistant siliconized rubber. The upper body is made to extend upward, forming a container into which water is placed. The unit is then placed on a propane burner. As the water heats, electricity is generated and transferred to the electronic device to be charged via a USB cable.
Compact, about the size of a good hamburger
When not in service, the unit folds compactly into a size comparable to a decent hamburger. A durable, padded vinyl case with a zipper closure is included.
As an unexpected and unadvertised bonus, I received an LED lamp that can run off the charger. The lamp has its own cord and switch, as well as a small hanger, so that it can be hung from a tent pole or hung from a tree branch…as long as it is a pretty low branch. The cord is only about five feet long.
5V LED lamp included
I looked at several other designs that use similar technology, such as one unit that uses a metal tongue that extends into a flame or over a burner and can be used while cooking on the burner. However the other units were obviously made for backpackers, very lightweight, and I was concerned about its durability when packed and unpacked daily into/out of paniers among other gear on a long horse pack trip. The fact that the Mini O has no framework or moving parts, and the fact that it packs away into a very compact and tough container, won me over. It just looks like it could survive a long horse pack trip.
We’ll see how it works in the field in the next several weeks. I’ll give a full report on it then.
Day six, for Dad and me, was both tough and wonderful. We had made our first fifty miles and all was well. Now we had entered the first range of mountains along our route: the Chiricahuas. We were excited to get off the dirt roads and onto some mountain trails.
Joshua Jensen and Al Smith had arrived the previous evening. Joshua had fixed us a meal of T-bone steak, cheese-covered potatoes, fetachini, and brownies, all made even better by sitting around a campfire in the mountains, enjoying the company of good friends. After a week on the trail, eating dehydrated meals with no spices but salt and pepper, that dinner was heavenly!
On this morning, we discussed and planned out our route before getting packed up. The original route I had planned had been exposed to a devastating fire several years before and was impassable and in places nonexistent. Good thing Joshua volunteered to join up with us. Joshua and Al, being intimately familiar with the Chiricahua trail system, mapped out a route for us that was both beautiful and exhilarating…and pretty tough in places. Whatever else the route might have been, it was unforgettable.
Al in front, Joshua following
The route we ended up taking through the mountains took us up the Monte Vista Trail out of the North Fork of Rucker Canyon, where we were camped, to hit the Crest Trail just on the north side of Monte Vista Peak, following it over Fly Peak (where we camped that night) and down to join USFS 42C at Rustler Park. We followed 42D to Pinery Canyon Road, where we turned west (my journal says east, but it was west) and followed it down to the North Fork of Pinery Creek . We then followed North Fork for a ways, then turned north on a trail to Hands Pass. From there our route took us past Barrel Spring and through Bloomberg Canyon (where we camped the following night) and into Whitetail Canyon. We attempted to turn west up Indian Creek Canyon from there, but gave up after about three miles, finding the trail impassable (non-existent) for horses. We ended up returning to Bloomberg Canyon, staying our Sunday rest day there, then left the Chiricahuas through Whitetail Canyon Road. We then hit Noland Road and followed alongside it north to San Simon.
Now that you have our route through the Chiricahua mountains in mind, let me tell you about our companions and their mighty steeds. Both Joshua and Al ride mules. I have always had an interest in mules, but this was my first extensive experience with them on mountain trails.
Joshua is a tall, young US Border Patrol Officer in his late twenties or early thirties. He rides for their mounted patrol out of the Safford District. He’s a nice, clean-cut man and a pleasure to be around. A fine horseman and experienced packer, he has converted over to mules. He has two of them. Treasure is an experienced molly out of a thoroughbred mare. She stood about 17 hands, was almost totally black, except for a few highlights around her flanks and legs, had very fine legs and excellent conformation. She was also a bit ornery. Riding behind her, I had to watch that my horse didn’t get too close. His other mule, Tigger, was shorter and younger, about 4 years old as I recall, about 15 hands or so, dun-dish or roan-ish in color, with zebra-striped legs. A very pretty molly, she was also slow as Christmas. She just didn’t care to keep up with the rest of us. Joshua had recently acquired her and was still working with her training. While his taller, older molly had a very nice walk and could really eat up distance, the slower one held her back.
Al, on the other hand, rode a dark molly, about 15-1/2 hands or a little better, that was a real handful. She was very skittish around anyone but Al. She could really walk out, though. I mean, even my Fox Trotters had a hard time keeping up with her. Now you have to see this in your mind’s eye as I describe Al and his mule. Al stands all of about 5′-5 or 6″, and weighs in at around a buck-40 or so. He has a full beard, almost as full and nice as Santa Claus’ beard, but a little more gray than white. He has a grin that just makes you want to smile all the time and a quick whit that always kept us wondering what he was going to say next. He is retired out of the Arizona State Prison system (employee – not inmate!). He now spends most of his time riding his mule. When Al was up on top of that mule, the two became one. Now, as I say that, you must understand my meaning. Al and his mule operated as a single unit, but, quite truthfully, Dad and I never quite knew who was in charge, the mule or Al. After much consideration, we came to the conclusion that it was simply a cooperative system – sometimes Al was in charge and sometimes the mule was in charge. Whatever it was, it was an amazing thing to behold.
What an experience it was traveling with these two men and their mules. As you will see, Joshua and Al were, together and individually, another of those gifts from Heaven that happened to us so often on this trip.
After a good breakfast, we were loaded up and heading up the trail by 9:15am. As Daisy, the Quarter Horse had started showing signs of saddle sores on her withers, we decided to cut our gear and leave one pack saddle in Joshua’s trailer and pony Daisy bareback for a few days to let her heal up. We would retrieve the gear and a few more bags of feed when we exited the mountains at Joshua and Al’s end point.
We started up Monte Vista Trail. It started out as a pretty easy trail, but soon entered a series of switchbacks and a steady climb. We ascended more than 3,000 feet in a matter of about four-and-a-half miles. Most of the trail was well maintained, but there were several deadfalls we had to go around.
Ascending Monte Vista Peak looking south
As we climbed higher, the views began to open up a bit, allowing us to catch sight of where we had been the previous days. It was quite the sense of achievement I felt, looking back over the hills, seeing in the far distance the areas we had come through. It was a strange sense I felt, which eventually became a familiar and welcome feeling. It was the emotion connected with the thought that I had been over there – not just that I had been there at one time or another, but that I had just come from over there on my horse, with my dad. It was a special feeling that is hard to describe, and it was entirely new to me as I looked out over those mountains, hills, and deserts.
Nearing the top of the shale slide
As we neared the summit of Monte Vista Peak, we crossed and ascended a looooong sidehill that dropped off about half-a-mile below us. This mountainside was pure shale and very little vegetation grew on it. The shale was ankle deep when you stepped off the trail and a horse that stepped off the trail would soon find himself sliding downhill with a lot of the hillside sliding with him, and there just wasn’t anything to stop you until you hit the bottom. I found out just how dangerous this could be as we neared the top of this long slide and had our second near-disaster of the trip.
I had turned on my GoPro camera, on my chest-mount, to record some of this ascent (while it was quite impressive in person, the video doesn’t quite do it justice, as is almost always the case). However, the immensity of the scenery distracted me and I forgot I had turned it on. So, on a westerly tack on the switchback, I pulled my iphone out of my pocket to take a few photos. As I messed around with my phone, I lost the lead rope on Ranger, my lead pack horse (I was riding Lizzy). I couldn’t coax Ranger to come up to me to grab his lead rope, so I dismounted and started back toward him on foot.
For some strange reason, Ranger, who was packed with 200 pounds of horse feed, turned away from me and stepped downhill off the trail. As he did so, he immediately sank to his hocks in the shale and began to slide. I rushed to grab the lead rope, hoping to get his head turned back uphill before he dragged Daisy, tied behind him, down the hillside with him. I was able to catch the end of the lead rope and get Ranger’s head turned, but by this time he was fifteen feet below the trail and sliding still. The mare had also left the trail and was floundering, but she had no packs or weight on her. I began to slide behind Ranger, but finally got his head around and got him facing back uphill. At this point Ranger turned and began struggling to get his footing, with me pulling his lead rope. The weight of the heavy packs on his back settled back and started to pull him over backwards. I watched in horror as his front hooves came out of the shale and lifted into the air, realizing that if I didn’t get his front feet back on the ground, he was a goner, and possibly the mare with him. He would have rolled until he hit the bottom, half-a-mile below us.
Pulling with all my weight, and setting my feet into the deep shale, I was able to counter the weight of the packs enough, and Ranger was strong enough, that he regained his balance and began to charge up the very steep hillside. I turned and scrambled up, using hands and feet, finally reaching the trail just ahead of Ranger and the mare.
It was an exciting few moments, but once again, we survived with no serious repercussions. It was another good “journal material” experience with no sad ending.
The good part was that I had forgotten about my GoPro video camera! It was running the whole time and picked up the whole incident, together with a long segment of the trail. You can see it here.
The view from the top of Monte Vista Peak looking west
Another mile or so saw us to the top of Monte Vista Peak. We stopped at the Ranger lookout tower there and let the horses rest and graze while we ate lunch. What a beautiful view from there. At 9223′ elevation, we could see in all four directions for what seemed like forever.
Just off the north side of Monte Vista Peak, we joined the Crest Trail. A forest fire had burned through the area a number of years before, a finger of which had nearly reached the top of the peak. The fire left much of the timber on the north side of the mountain dead. Much of the dead-standing timber had fallen, making travel on the trail a slow and difficult process. In the first mile we spent more time cutting and moving logs than we did traveling. It was in this area that the axe and limb saw I packed on my saddle paid for themselves. I wish I had gotten more photos in this area, but I was pretty busy hacking away at logs and trying to shift them out of the trail. Once we passed Raspberry Peak, however, things got easier and we made better time. We actually got out on the “crest” of the mountain range, which was like riding its spine. We had a spectacular view off both the eastern and western sides of the Chiricahua mountains at the same time.
Coming off the Painted Rock descent
At one point we came to a spectacular descent, at a place called Painted Rock. This descent on the Crest Trail comes down between two jagged, rock promontories (Painted Rock), descending several hundred feet in just a few lateral yards. The cut was so narrow and steep that part of our pack train was heading east on one switchback while I, in the middle, was on a western tack and tail-end Charlie (Dad) was on the eastern tack above me. I will never forget coming down through that cut. Absolutely thrilling!
Sadly, my GoPro ran out of battery about ten minutes before we arrived at the cut. I tried to get as much of it as I could with my iphone, but only caught just the lower part of it. I can tell you in no uncertain terms that the iphone video just doesn’t have the capability to show what that short segment of trail is really like. You can see it here.
Along this part of the Crest Trail, we got a steady west wind, blowing at 20-30 miles per hour, and it was cold! You might recall that I had lost my coat a while back and was clad only in a heavy wool shirt over my clothing. Surprisingly, that heavy wool shirt cut the wind pretty well an I stayed reasonably warm as we continued moving northward along the crest. As we approached Fly Peak, though, it was getting on toward evening and I was getting cold.
We crossed over onto the east side of Fly Peak, following a fork off the main trail, which got us out of the heavy winds. We came upon a small improved (capped) spring on the trail, which I believe may be Booger Spring, not sure. We watered the stock there and continued another couple hundred yards and made camp there on the eastern side of Fly Peak. The elevation was near 9300′.
My journal entry ends with this commentary:
[Begin journal entry]
We made 10.6 miles and camped on the east side of Fly Peak. It was a nice camp area with a capped spring about 1/4 mile before it on the trail. Being on the east side of the peak, we were out of the wind, but it was very cold.
That night most of our water froze. I didn’t sleep well, because I brought my light sleeping bag. It has proven inadequate, even for this part of the trail. I’ll need to have someone take my heavier bag to [a friend’s] place so I can pick it up when we get there.
We had no mishaps, despite the rough trail, except that one with Ranger on the hillside. The horses are starting to work well together.
[End journal entry]
Yessiree! It was cold that night and I didn’t get much sleep, but then, there we were, at 9300′, in the heart of the mountains with good people and good horses. It doesn’t get much better than that and it would take a lot more than the cold to dampen our spirits on this trip. Besides, my dog Clancy snuggled against me all night and helped keep the cold at bay.
During the day, we discovered that Dad had left one of his two-quart canteens back at the lookout tower on top of Monte Vista Peak. That was to become a real concern for us further along.
I’ve been shopping around for a new horse for the second leg of our Mexico-to-Canada horse pack trip. Those of you who have been following the blog will recall that my Missouri Fox Trotter mare, Lizzy, had some issues on the first leg. Her long-strided, swinging walk caused rub sores on her shoulders, chest, and rump wherever the pack saddle rigging straps rubbed. She was the only horse with this issue. It seems her summer coat of hair is a bit thinner than my other horses. For this reason, I had to keep her under riding saddle more than I wanted, which eventually caused a sore spot on her back as she began to lose weight during the last part of the trip. In the final analysis, while she is my favorite trail horse, she just isn’t the horse for this pack trip.
I was actually shopping for a new mustang, since we had such good luck with Jimbo, and came across a few possibilities, but it seemed that they were either too far away or weren’t broke enough for my needs (I don’t bounce like I used to and just didn’t want to have to deal with breaking a bucker). Then, a couple weeks ago, a horse that wasn’t too far from my locale caught my eye from an ad on KSL Classifieds, out of Heber, Utah. I kept going back to the ad, because I liked the color and build of the horse. Finally, I decided to make a call and go see him.
The ad indicated he was a grade gelding and that his sire was APHA registered. He was 3-1/2 years old, 14 hands, and had a couple months of training. The price was a little higher than I was looking for and he was a bit younger than I wanted, but I decided to take a look anyway.
I invited my good friend, Rob Prody, and we headed up to Heber one afternoon, about an hour’s drive. We took a good look at him and found he was a bit taller than stated in the ad, at about 14.5 hands, I’d guess. He has a nice, stocky build, short back, straight legs, nice chest and rump, and nice large, round hooves. He had a calm and friendly disposition and was easy to catch, although he tried to avoid being haltered. Looking at his teeth, I could see that the last of his baby teeth was about to come out, so his age was about right. The one thing that worried me a little was a quarter-crack on the outside of his right rear hoof. It wasn’t actually opened up, but I could see the line running up to the coronet. I couldn’t see any injury there, though. I also found he didn’t like me messing with his rear hooves too much, and he made a half-hearted attempt to cow-kick me a couple times. I decided not to make the purchase at that time, but told the owners I might call back in a couple weeks.
After missing out on a couple mustangs I wanted to see, and taking a couple weeks off of my horse shopping, for vacation and work, I found my mind returning to this gelding. Once I got home and had time to continue my search, I decided I would call again on this paint gelding and make an offer, before looking at three other horses I had selected to check out. The long and short is that the owner and I came to agreement on the price and agreed on the sale.
After spending an evening digging my horse trailer out of about 18″ of snow down here in Salem, with the help of a neighbor with a fairly large 4wd John Deere tractor, I was able to pick the horse up on Wednesday evening.
I again took Rob up with me, thinking that we’d just pick up the horse, stop somewhere for a dinner, then head home. You know what they say about “best laid plans.” After arriving at the owners’ place, I signed the Bill of Sale they had prepared and handed over the money. After some small talk and getting to know each other a bit, we headed out to catch-up the horse and load him into the trailer. That’s when the owner mentioned the horse had only been in one other horse trailer and they had a tough time loading him. I could feel the warning lights and horns going off in my head. Since I seem to always buy greenbroke horses, I normally don’t pay for them until I have them in the trailer. I had forgotten all about that simple protocol this time.
Well, he was easy enough to catch, and I had just a little trouble getting his halter on, but he lead easily over to the trailer. Due to the situation of the residence and the amount of snow in the drive, I had parked the truck and trailer on the side of the road. I had the emergency flashers going to keep us from getting hit by passing traffic in the dark. So, here we are bringing this greenbroke horse up to the back of my trailer in the dark with the emergency lights flashing and us shining flashlights around. Looking inside that cavernous, dark trailer, he simply said, “Nope! Not going in there!”
Realizing this was not going to be a short, easy project after the first couple of failed attempts, I pulled out a long training lead, hooked one end to his halter ring and passed the other through the tie loop in the front stall. Holding the tail of this rope, I kept pressure on him and coaxed him from inside the trailer, while my helpers attempted to haze him in from the rear. He would get right up to the trailer, then fight and pull back. I just kept the tension on him, allowing it to slip just enough to keep him from hitting his head on the trailer as he fought. My help had to really scramble a couple times to get out of his way. At one point he reared up, turned, and clopped the owner on top of the head with one of his front hooves. Luckily, he had no shoes on and the owner had a sock hat that offered some protection. Nobody, including the horse, got hurt in the process, other than the owner’s knot on the noggin. After close to two hours, the gelding got tired and simply gave up. He hopped into the trailer, I led him into the front stall, shut the divider, and we had him ready to travel. I put some hay in the manger for him and we headed off down the road.
I felt him move around a bit the first mile or so, but when we stopped at a restaurant about three miles away and checked on him he was fine and was settling down. By the time we came out after dinner, he was quite calm and I was comfortable with heading back down Provo Canyon to Salem.
My herd at pasture in Salem
Once back in Salem, at the pasture where the rest of my herd is kept, I opened the loading gate and started to back him out of the trailer. He got one leg out the back, said “Nope!” and hopped back in. After several minutes of failed attempts at coaxing him from in front, I got out of the trailer and gently coaxed him by pulling lead rope from behind, past his legs. Eventually, he came piling out and everything was good.
I led him over to the fence to allow him to meet his new pasture mates. Seeing no strong aggressive moves from him or my other horses, after a few minutes I released him into the pasture. We sat and watched them for about a half hour and it appeared he would be fine and that the other horses weren’t bullying him enough for me to worry. We left him then and headed for home.
I finally had a chance to mess with him a bit this afternoon and to start his orientation and training. Again, even in the large pasture with other horses, he was easy to catch, but made it difficult to get his halter on. We’re going to have to work on that. I curried him a bit, then tried his hooves. He allowed me to lift all his hooves, although he’s a bit spoiled. We’re going to be working on his hooves a lot, until he figures out that it’s not an optional procedure and that he might as well just relax and let me do it.
I also learned that he doesn’t like his stomach messed with. He narrowly missed me with a good cow-kick today. Had he not tried that half-hearted cow-kick when I first saw him, and had I not acted with caution this time around, he would have got me pretty good. So, we spent a few minutes working on that bad habit with the knotted end of a heavy lead rope. He learns pretty quickly.
Next week I’ll see about saddling him up and give him a bit of a test drive. I also need to take him for a vet check, Coggins test, and brand inspection.
This gelding doesn’t have a mean bone in him, but he’s very spoiled. He’s going to take some work. I think he’ll develop into a fine horse for Dad and me to take on the second leg of our Mexico-to-Canada horse pack trip.
His name is Reno, and I think it fits him. I have four months to get him into shape.
Thanks to Travis and Terra Naffziger, for selling him to me and helping load him on the trailer.
As we left it last week, Dad and I had made camp on a small knoll about two miles west of Texas Canyon Road, Chiricahua National Monument, Arizona, on the fourth night of the first leg of our Mexico-to-Canada horse pack trip.
The fifth day began as all the others did, with us waking up about 5:15am. We rolled out of bed, took care of our morning oblations, fed the horses, and Dad started cooking while I started breaking camp. As usual, I set my solar panels up to catch as much sun as possible while we packed up for departure, in order to have battery for the cameras and GPS.
We had all the horses loaded up and ready to move by 9:00. As Dad was mounting Jimbo, he lost his balance and fell pretty hard. He shook it off and I held Jimbo while he got in the saddle. Dad got lined out with his pack animals and I went to bridle and mount Ranger. I got up into the saddle and was trying to get Lizzy and “that stupid mare” lined out when I just happened to notice something on the ground underfoot of my horses. On closer inspection, it turned out to be a smart-phone. I jumped off and picked it up, amazed that the horses hadn’t stepped on it. Of course, it was Dad’s phone, which had slipped out of his pocket when he went down. It was lucky I found it, and luckier that it hadn’t been smashed by a horse’s hoof. It was just another lucky break for us…or maybe it was another one of those little helps from above. We had a number of those kinds of things happen for us.
Scenery along Rucker Canyon Road
We were on the trail by 9:15am. We had a short uphill to climb, but after that we were moving pretty much downhill toward Texas Canyon Road. We hit the road before noon and headed north toward the North Fork of Rucker Canyon, following the dirt road.
Shortly after we hit Texas Canyon Road, we had our first near tragic wreck of the trip.
I had dismounted to open a gate to bypass a cattle guard. Before dismounting, I tied Lizzy’s lead rope to my saddle horn with a clove hitch, so I could lead Ranger through the gate with the pack horses following. This was a metal gate, rather than a barbed wire “gap”, like we normally ran into. I unchained the gate and opened it toward us, rather than away, without thinking. I swung it wide, then led Ranger through. As I led him through the gate, it swung back and caught Lizzy at the shoulder, right in front of her pack saddle, pinching her between the gate and gate post. Ranger, then, feeling the tug behind him, began pulling hard against the pressure. I finally saw what was happening and had started to pull Ranger back, when Lizzy began pulling back as well. Between the two of us pulling, Ranger’s front end came off the ground and he fell sideways to his left, toward the cattle guard. When he fell, his front left foreleg went into the cattle guard to above the knee, with his right front folded under him.
Scrape on Ranger’s front left from the cattle guard
I was still pulling back on Ranger’s lead rope, now from directly behind him, while Lizzy, still pinched in the gate, pulled from his left side. I held tight, fearing that if the lead rope, or saddle horn, or cincha, or anything else, were to break, Ranger would lunge forward and end up with all four legs into the cattle guard.
Suddenly, with both Lizzy and me pulling and Ranger struggling, he again started coming over backward, causing his left front leg to pull straight up and out of the cattle guard. Rather than falling over backward, though, he stood up on his hind legs and walked backward, relieving the pressure on Lizzy.
Then, as suddenly as it all started, it was over.
After calming the horses, I checked Ranger over carefully, and found he had scraped some hide off his front left foreleg, but there were no serious injuries. He could easily have broken his leg. Lizzy was uninjured.
Once again, thank you, Lord.
Lesson learned: Always open gates away from you!
Eating Beanie-Weenies with a wooden spoon
Somewhere along the road, we stopped to give the horses a rest and took our lunch. Our usual lunch was beef jerky and a Cliff Bar, but on this day we had Beanie-weenies. With our eating utensils neatly packed away on a pack horse, we took the opportunity to engage in one of our very own Henrie family traditions: we made wooden spoons and ate our beanie-weenies with them. That tradition dates back to my very first mountain trail ride with Dad, while I was in high school. My brother and I were on a hunt trip with Dad in the Blue Wilderness Area in Arizona. We were riding our horses up out of the Blue on the Red Hills Trail (the trail, not the road). When we stopped for lunch, we had a can of Van Camp’s Pork and Beans, but nothing to eat it with. Dad used his pocket knife to open the can, then carved us a wooden spoon. Thus began the tradition. No Henrie can truly say he’s been wilderness camping until he/she has eaten beans with a hand-carved wooden spoon.
We arrived at our day’s destination about 3:00pm, after 13.6 miles, making exactly 50 miles from our starting point five days earlier. We picked out a campsite with plenty of grass and picketed the horses. There was a small corral in which we allowed Jimbo and Honey to graze. We set up our camp and relaxed awhile before our new riding companions arrived.
Camp at North Fork of Rucker Canyon
Josh Jensen and Al Smith arrived just an hour or so later with their mules. They were both pretty excited to be able to participate with us on this part of the ride.
As I mentioned in an earlier post, several months before, during the planning of our route, I advertised that anybody who wanted to ride with us for a portion of the trip was welcome to join us. Joshua answered the call and we began planning out the route through the Chiricahuas together. Lucky for us he and Al came along. Joshua happens to be a member of the US Border Patrol Mounted Patrol for the Safford District. Al Smith is his good friend, whom we invited to join us as well. Between the two of them, they know the trails in the Chiricahuas. Some of those trails have suffered from several major fires in recent years. Many of the trails are impassable, and some have disappeared entirely. Without the help of Joshua and Al, we never would have found our way through those mountains. Joshua was also able to track any USBP activities in the area and steer us clear of any drug trafficking and illegal alien groups passing through the area.
Additionally, with Joshua’s help, we were able to stage horse feed resupply points, without which we would have been helpless, as there was precious little grass in the Arizona desert areas we passed through between the border and Safford. We had left twelve bags of feed at Joshua’s house in Safford before the trip, which made for three feed resupply stops. We fed the last of the feed we had packed from the US/Mexico border that evening and the following morning. Joshua brought eight bags of feed in his truck. The plan was for us to load four bags to get us through the mountains. We would get the remaining four bags when we got to his truck as we emerged from the mountains, where he and Al were to leave us. We would resupply again at his house in Safford when we arrived there, packing out the last of the feed, which would get us into the higher elevations, where we expected to find sufficient grazing for the horses.
Joshua brought us something else that evening. As a “thank you” for us letting him and Al join us for the ride, he cooked up T-bone steaks, potatoes and cheese, and fetuchini, with brownies for desert. All cooked over an open fire (except the brownies), it was fabulous. Much better than the dehydrated meals we had been living on.
My journal for the day makes a couple comments I thought I would provide in their entirety:
[Begin journal comment]
As of today we have made 50 miles exactly.
Dad rode Jimbo today. Jimbo got a little excited a couple times, but Dad rode him out and after that Jimbo did great. He’s a good horse. Strong, sound, not a mean bone in him, and sure-footed. He’s doing better with his skittishness every day.
Ranger
Ranger and Lizzy did well today. I sure enjoy Ranger. He and I are really bonding. I enjoy riding Lizzy, but Ranger is starting to act like I’m his herd leader. Even when he gets excited and runs off, he always returns and comes to me. I think he and I are going to enjoy a lot of miles together.
Daisy has a saddle sore coming up. We plan to pony her bareback for the next several days. We’ll leave her pack saddle in Joshua’s trailer and he’ll get it back to us on our rest day, Sunday.
[End journal comment]
Daisy’s saddle sore starting
That evening, while tending the horses, I noticed that Daisy was developing a saddle sore high on her withers. We decided to let her go bareback for several days to let it heal up before it got worse. Due to the location of the sore, it was at this point that we began to think we were over-padding our pack saddles, which may have been what caused Daisy’s saddle sore. The following day we stopped using the extra saddle pad under my Phillips Formfitter pack saddles and happily discovered that our problems of the packsaddles moving and slipping on the horses ceased completely. After that day I don’t believe we ever had to stop to adjust another pack saddle for the rest of the trip.
Lesson learned: Don’t over-pad the Phillips Formfitter pack saddles. Our 3/4″ wool felt and canvas pack saddle pads was sufficient protection and using only those kept our packsaddles from moving around on the horse’s back.
Here are a couple short videos from Day Five I made on Texas Canyon Road.
To review a bit from my last entry about the first leg of our Mexico-to-Canada horse pack trip last year, we left off with the end of Day Three and Dad and I camped in Half Moon Valley, just outside the Chiricahua National Monument.
The XPG Ultralight measures 20″X72″
After a good night’s rest, the cloudy weather having cleared up, we arose early. That was the first night we had a chance to try out our Cabela’s XPG Ultralight Extreme Performance Gear air mattresses under actual pack trip conditions. I have to say, they performed quite well and gave us a decent night’s sleep throughout the trip. Still, they aren’t “Grandma’s Feather Bed”. As we were sleeping out under the stars most nights, the daylight would wake us pretty early and there just wasn’t much sense or enticement for laying in bed any longer.
As became our habit, we fed the horses first-thing, then Dad started breakfast. Our cooking was done on a propane single-burner Coleman pack stove. This proved to be perfect for our needs and will be what we take for the remainder of our adventure. It is a very simple device, compact, and almost indestructible. We would heat water, in an aluminum pot, dump in the ingredients, let simmer until fully hydrated, then put on water for drinks while we began to eat. Didn’t take long to have a meal ready, eaten, and done with.
We had quite the menu. We had purchased a box of dehydrated home food storage meals from Walmart. The food was all self-contained in #10 cans, purported to be about 75 meals, which we broke up into separate freezer bags, so as to be able to pack it more easily. We added some instant oatmeal and a couple dehydrated meals we had left over from previous trips, and the meal package included a couple luxury items, such as freeze-dried beef and strawberries. So, our meal choices appeared, at first blush, to be quite varied and ample. However, we went through the varied part pretty quickly and ended up with three main meals: dehydrated vegetable stew, creamed corn, and hash browns and powdered eggs…or any mixture of these items to try to break up the monotony a bit. Our lunches were generally a bit of beef jerky and a Cliff bar. By the time we finished the trip, we had each lost about 20 pounds and were starved for some real food.
Breakfast on this day consisted of powdered eggs and hash browns, with a little freeze-dried beef pieces tossed in, with some hot chocolate and/or hot apple cider to drink. It wasn’t bad for a camp breakfast.
Breaking camp on Day Four
While Dad did the cooking, I set out my solar panels to charge batteries, started gathering up our gear, and packing manties. As I detailed in another post, this was a tedious and work-intensive operation. Every morning we had to sort our gear into about eight different piles, four for the manties, and four for the paniers. The paniers proved to be much easier, because we could actually store most of the gear in the paniers, so stuff we used during camp time was generally placed back in the same panier after we were done with it, so packing the paniers was a matter of putting the last several items in them. However, with the manties, we used the tarps for ground sheets and bed covers, so every evening the manties were completely undone, had to be reconfigured for balance, and repacked every morning.
Once they were packed, we used a pack scale to make sure they were within a couple pounds of each other. If they weren’t, we would have to unpack two of them to reconfigure them to proper weight, then do it again. Even though I became pretty good at it during the trip, and got faster at it, it was never something I looked forward to. Besides being time and effort consuming, I found tying up the manties really wore on my bare hands. The first few days my hands ached at night to the point I had a hard time going to sleep. After a week I began to develop calluses and tougher skin and it didn’t bother me so bad.
Ranger, my 16-hand Missouri Fox TrotterJImbo, my “free” mustang.
At some point during the packing, I stopped for breakfast, then continued packing. By the time I got the manties ready, Dad had the paniers packed and we got the pack animals loaded, the packs tied on and covered, and got started saddling the saddle horses. On this day I rode my big Fox Trotter paint, Ranger. Dad rode our mustang, Jimbo. We got out of camp and on our way about 9:15am, which was about average for us.
Several miles up the trail, we came to a point at which the map showed that Half Moon Valley trail turned almost directly westerly for a couple miles, then back northeast to join with another trail that then ran northeast for a ways to join Texas Canyon Road. We could see by the GPS and USGS maps that we could also turn north up High Lonesome canyon and go cross-country for about 1.5-2 miles and join another trail that would take us to Texas Canyon road, saving us about 4-5 miles. At four miles per hour average speed, you can see the shorter route made sense. Turned out to be a rough couple of miles. At the end of this post are links to three videos I shot during that short bushwhacking session. They are long and unedited, but shows the country we went through.
During this trip there were several things that happened that I firmly believe were providential. Dad and I both got the feeling, starting right with our planning and preparations, that we had help from the “other side” on a number of occasions. We seemed to have at least one such occurrence everyday of the trip. Being religious ourselves, it was easy to believe that we had a few of our forefathers riding along with us, cheering and helping us along the way. It was almost as if the Good Lord was rooting for us, two of the least of his children, trying to connect to our pioneer past. On this particular day, two of those things happened.
Filling canteens in the creek at High Lonesome CanyonFilling canteens with a pump filter
As we arrived at the cutoff we had decided to take up High Lonesome canyon, we found a clear, running stream there and took the opportunity to fill our canteens. We used Dad’s pump filter, which is a pretty slow operation for four two-quart canteens. While we were pumping water, I allowed Ranger, my 16-hand paint Fox Trotter, who was my saddle horse for the day, to wander and graze, along with Honey the mule. The rest of the stock we tied. Ranger, being the wanderer he is, tried to cross under the neck and leadrope of Dad’s little gelding, who was a pack horse for the day. They got tangled up and began to struggle. The branch Little Black was tied to broke, spooking both horses, and off they went, galloping over the hills in the distance. I could see all sorts of stuff trailing along behind Ranger and I was already thinking of all my expensive gear in his saddle bags and on his saddle, including my new binocs, my GoPro camera, my solar panels, an axe, camp saw… I just shook my head. Luckily, our spooky mustang, Jimbo, was Dad’s saddle horse for the day, and was tied (we had learned at least that much). I grabbed him up, jumped into the saddle and headed off to see if I could find the horses, which were long out of sight.
I hadn’t gone more than 50 yards, when I heard Ranger whinnie. I watched for a minute and located both Black and Honey, standing together several hundred yards up a hillside, in a little hollow. About the time I located them, I saw Ranger coming out of the trees heading back toward me. He approached at a hard trot, with my axe dragging behind, banging between his rear legs. I could only cringe as I envisioned the damage to his legs.
Ranger trotted up to me with a half-panicked expression (if horses really have those) on his mug that said, “Help me! I’m hung up!” I dismounted from Jimbo and caught Ranger’s lead rope and prepared for what I would find. I was astonished to find that when Ranger and Black got tangled up and started struggling, my axe, which had been hung on the saddle through a two-inch brass ring tied into the front saddle string, had gotten snagged in Black’s pack rigging. When Ranger tore loose, the saddle string broke, dropping the axe, which then became tangled in the bridle, which was hanging on the saddle horn. The bridle came loose, but remained suspended from the horn by the reins. The reins were long enough that the axe, tangled in the bridle, dragged the ground right between his hind legs. With all Ranger’s galloping around in sheer panic, the axe remained hung up in the bridle, banging around between Ranger’s hind legs, and the reins remained intact. The heavy leather axe cover had remained in place all that time and the rubber handle prevented any bruises or cuts to Ranger’s legs. My saddle bags were still in place, as was my camera and solar panels, which were tied behind the saddle. In the end, the only item I lost from Ranger’s panicked breakaway was half of a saddle string. Even the brass ring was still on the axe. What a relief. After leading him back to where Dad was finishing up with the canteens, I went after Black and Honey. They waited patiently for me and came without a problem. I checked them over and it appeared we had lost nothing from their packs.
Thank you, Lord.
It wasn’t until that night that I discovered my heavy Carhart coat, that was stashed in a panier on Honey, was missing. Oh well. I’m sure it will be well received and used by whoever finds it. Interestingly, or maybe providentially, at camp that evening, we found an insulated vest someone had left, which got me through some pretty cold mornings and evenings as we crossed through the Chiricahuas.
The second thing for which I credit providential intervention happened while we were traversing from Half Moon Valley trail up through High Lonesome canyon. I’ll let the videos speak for themselves, as far as describing the country. Although one cannot get the true perspective of the angles and steepness of the hillsides we were traversing, at least you can see the country. I decided to try my chest mount for the GoPro camera for the first time. I had no opportunity to try it previous to that point, so I had no idea how it would turn out. Turned out I mounted the camera improperly and it was nearly disastrous for me.
After passing through some extremely difficult and steep terrain for over a mile, we stopped to rest the animals. I looked down to turn off my camera and it wasn’t there. Here we were in the first week of our Mexico-to-Canada horse pack trip and I had lost our video camera, in which I had invested over $1,000. I can’t express how upset I was with myself. As I thought back over the trail, I quickly realized that my chance of going back over our trail and finding it was about one-in-a-million. I couldn’t figure out, for the life of me, how the camera had come off the mount. I was pretty down-in-the-mouth, as they say.
Heading toward Texas Canyon Road after passing through High Lonesome
I looked all around myself, the saddle, and the surrounding area, then dismounted. I was standing by my horse, telling Dad I had lost the camera, when I heard a “plop”. I looked down and there was the camera at my feet. How it got there I did not know, but I sent up a prayer of gratitude right then. After we finished the ride and I had a chance to actually view the video recording, I discovered what had happened. I had improperly installed the camera on the chest mount, missing the hole with the mounting bolt, so that the camera was only held in the mount by friction. Just before we stopped for rest, the camera hit the saddle horn, as I leaned under a branch while going uphill. The camera fell off the mount and ended up falling between my canteen and the horse, where it became lodged, and hidden, until I dismounted and moved the canteen. You will see all that happen in the videos.
Thank you, Lord.
We only made 9.4 miles that day, having passed through some very tough terrain and steep elevation changes, as we made our way toward Texas Canyon Road. The sun was setting when we picked out a decent campsite on a small knoll, about two or three miles west of Texas Canyon Road. We passed a pond about a quarter-mile before stopping, so the horses were well-watered. The fourth video below is one I made at that campsite as we cared for the horses and made camp (it was posted on a previous blog post as well). It was a very long and tough day for us, despite the low mileage recorded for the day.
We enjoyed a restful evening under the stars on a clear, cold night on a small knoll in the middle of nowhere. Ahhh! That’s what it’s all about!
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