Last week I picked up a new gelding. I’ve been trying to figure out a name for him. I thought of several, but nothing stuck. Figured I’d just wait and see if something jumped out at me as the perfect name. I think I have it. I’ll get there in a minute.
He’s a golden palomino about 5 or 6 years old, I think, of unknown origin, but I think he’s got a lot of Missouri Fox Trotter in him. He looks like a Fox Trotter. He’s got the deep, narrow chest, short back, and nicely shaped head of the Fox Trotter, and he has a natural gait. In fact, in the short time I’ve had him, he’s shown several gaits as he moves through the pasture. So far I have identified five separate gaits: walk, flat-foot walk, fox trot, running walk, and a nice canter. He seems to like the fox trot best and slips into the running walk as he gets faster, until he breaks into the canter. I’m pretty excited to start working with him.
This new boy is not yet broke to ride. I was going to start his training this weekend. I had planned to go to St. George, Utah for a ride with the local Fox Trotter club and some friends, from Thursday through Monday. My plan was to take this new gelding along and start him out by ponying him along behind my mare, Lizzy. I was going to put a pack saddle on his back and get him used to having straps hanging and rubbing all over him.
Howsoever, that plan failed. I couldn’t catch the son of a gun! He would walk right up to me, let me scratch his nose, but as soon as I started moving toward him, off he would go. I worked at it for at least 45 minutes, before giving up and deciding I had to get on the road.
As luck would have it, we got rained out in St. George (I think it only rains about once every two or three years there) and I returned home yesterday afternoon. After letting Lizzy back into the pasture I used some horse treats to make another attempt at getting a halter on the new boy. No such luck…but I found he really likes the treats.
So, last night, as I was sitting in my easy chair contemplating this new horse and the challenges I’m going to have with him – the first being just catching him out of the pasture – I recognized the fact that I’m likely going to expend a number of swear words in his general direction before I get a good handle on him. That somehow turned my mind to one of my all-time favorite historical characters from Mormon lore.
J. Golden Kimball
J. Golden Kimball, son of Heber C. Kimball, was a General Authority (First Quorum of the Seventy) of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (Mormon Church) for more than 45 years during the latter part of the 19th and beginning of the 20th centuries. He is, even today, one of the most loved and quoted (or misquoted, as the case may be) of all of the General Authorities of the church. In his time he was beloved by both Mormons and non-Mormons alike, for his straight-from-the-heart, unpolished, and unfiltered way of teaching the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Brother Kimball was known for his dedicated service to the Lord and to his fellowman, his deep and abiding love and support for the leaders of the church, his quick wit, and for his more-than-occasional use of foul language in his discourse, both private and public. People would come from miles around to hear him preach from the pulpit.
To this day, stories and quotes attributed to this “Mormon Will Rogers” may be heard anywhere Mormon congregations are found. Most of these stories are of questionable origin, a few have been somewhat substantiated, many have been added to and colorized to suit the occasion, but all are in keeping with the humor and character of the man, and none I have heard detract from his humble and deeply spiritual character.
At the age of 15 years, upon the death of his father, J. Golden Kimball became responsible for the maintenance of his mother and five siblings. He landed a job as a mule skinner. It is to this employment that he credited his colorful and most notable linguistic skills. He asserted that mules don’t understand plain English and that one had to speak their language, which included a wide range of various levels and intensities of foul language, in order to get them to do any work. Brother Kimball, however, later pursued formal education at the Brigham Young Academy (now Brigham Young University) and became a voracious student and reader. He allowed that what most people heard in his everyday speech was but a pitiful remnant of a once very ample vocabulary clearly comprehensible to a mule.
On one occasion, Brother Kimball was guiding several dignitaries around Salt Lake City, showing them the sights of the town and of the industry of the Mormons. As they went along, Brother Kimball heard a number of comments from particular individuals in the group about how long certain buildings had taken the Mormons to build and that such structures could have been built in half the time in their hometowns.
As they approached the Salt Lake Temple (which had been 40 years in the building), one such fellow asked how long it had taken the Mormons to build it. J. Golden turned and glibly replied, “Hell, I don’t know. It wasn’t here yesterday!”
It was also well-known that J. Golden struggled with his love of coffee after his brother-in-law Heber J. Grant, then the Prophet of the Lord, began to encouraged church membership to greater strictness in keeping the Word of Wisdom, which forbids the use of coffee, tea, tobacco and alcohol. Brother Kimball’s wife laid down the law in their home, so Brother Kimball had to get his coffee elsewhere when occasion required.
On one such occasion, it is told, J. Golden Kimball was in a particular cafe, one he often frequented, and was sitting in the back when he was recognized by one of the members of the church. She approached and asked, “Is that you drinking coffee Brother Kimball?” He quickly responded, “Ma’am, you are the third person today who has mistaken me for that S-O-B!”
On another occasion, during a semi-annual conference of the church, our Brother Kimball was preparing to preach from the pulpit of the Tabernacle in Salt Lake City. After he arose to speak, President Heber J. Grant passed him a note at the pulpit instructing him to refrain from the use of foul language during his discourse. After reading the note, Brother Kimball turned to President Grant and said, referring to the note, “Hell, Heber, I can’t read the damn thing!”
Someone once asked Brother Kimball whether he thought his use of foul language might ever endanger his membership in the church. He responded, “They can’t excommunicate me! I repent too damn fast!”
I think my favorite of all the sayings attributed to J. Golden Kimball, however is this:
“I may not always walk the straight and narrow, but I sure in hell try to cross it as often as I can.”
J. Golden Kimball was killed in a one-car accident in Nevada in 1933, at the age of 85. It has been told that when he reached the Pearly Gates, Saint Peter exclaimed, “Well Brother Golden, we finally got you here!” to which J. Golden Kimball retorted, “Yeah, but by hell, you had to kill me to do it!”
So, it occurs to me that with my new gelding being a dappled golden palomino, and knowing some of the language that might possibly slip from my lips during our get-to-know-each-other period, I might pay humble homage to one of my favorite heroes from LDS history (or maybe mythology) by christening him “J. Golden.”
I think I’ll probably just settle on calling him “J.”
J Golden, my new gelding
Here’s a video of my little herd running in the pasture. J is the one trailing the herd.
P.S.
This evening, with a little teasing and rewarding with a few horsey treats, “J” let me slip the halter up over his nose and buckle it on. I spent a few minutes brushing him and fiddling with him before letting him go again. I thought, “How about that! And not a foul word was needed.” So, we’re on our way. The journey has begun. I’m pretty excited.
Much of the information for this post was taken from an article written for Meridian Magazine in 2007 by Eric A. Eliason. You may find the article here.
Last month I posted a little about a gelding I have been considering buying, to bring my horse cadre back up to three and to find one that paired well on the trail with my Fox Trotter mare, Lizzy. I finally decided to go ahead and buy him. So, here’s a little about him.
I haven’t yet settled on a name for him, so he’s just going to be known as “the gelding” until further notice.
He was purchased last year by the previous owner at the Anderson Livestock Auction Company in Willard, Utah. The owner’s intent was to train him up and sell him, but he never got around to it. He decided to go ahead and put him up for sale this winter. That’s where I came in. I saw him on an ad in the KSL Classifieds out of Utah Valley. He was advertised as a grade Fox Trotter about ten years old, not yet broke to ride. I thought the price was high, so right off, before I went out to look, I asked whether he was firm on the price. He said he’d negotiate a bit, so I went on out.
The horse is between 14.5 and 15 hands, but is quite thin. The owner’s father told me he was way under-weight when they bought him, so he’s picked up some weight since then, but could use another 200 or so pounds. The auctioneers also told them the gelding was a four year-old Tennessee Walker, but he and his son (the owner) took a look at his teeth and estimate his age at somewhere around ten years.
The man haltered the horse and took him out into a pasture, where I could see him move a bit. The gelding had to be cornered to halter, but other than that he seemed to be well halter-broke and followed well. He let me lift a front hoof, but wasn’t comfortable with me lifting his rear hooves. He let me lift it, but kept his leg moving and wouldn’t settle down. Still, it was evident he’s had some handling. I looked at his teeth and he let me open his lips without much fuss, which actually surprised me a bit. I would guess his age to be closer to the 5-6 year range, but I’m certainly no expert in that area.
As the horse moved on a longe line, I could see him pass through a fox trot-like gait, but he went right through it to a hard trot. Still, it was a gait. I liked the way he moved and he was not a lazy mover. He showed no lameness and seemed quite athletic. His canter was smooth and even.
After a little longeing, I put my saddle on him. He let me saddle him without too much trouble, although he didn’t like me tightening the cinch and moved away. I decided to try putting a foot in the stirrup with a little weight, to see how he would react. He didn’t like that at all. He reared a bit and jumped aside. That confirmed he is not saddle broke, which was a bit disappointing (I don’t bounce like I used to).
So, after about a month of thinking about him while I looked for other options on the Internet, I finally decided to go ahead and buy this boy. I texted the owner an offer that I felt was a good one, but he stuck by his guns. Last night I met his offer and I picked up the horse today.
My policy when buying a horse, since I normally buy horses that are somewhere between broncs and greenbrokes, is that I don’t hand over the money until I have the horse in the trailer. It becomes uncomfortable to ask for money back if I can’t safely get the horse in the trailer. The one time I violated that rule I spent over two hours getting that horse in the trailer, and was lucky to get it done without serious injury to the horse or my helping hands. Luckily, this boy walked right into the trailer without any hesitation. That was a great relief to me.
So, I brought him home. After a little familiarization with my other horses over the fence rails, I let him loose with the rest of the herd. They mulled around a bit an huffed and puffed a bit, but no fighting occurred. After a few minutes the gelding moved off into the open pasture, where they spread out a little. I was pleased when he broke into a very nice fox trot and headed across the pasture with the other horses following. It appears he likes that gait and it is natural to him. He also showed a nice flat-foot walk. He should turn out to be a very nice dappled palomino once he sheds out this spring.
So, with the new fellow socializing with my other horses, I took a few pictures and a short video and left them alone. I look forward to getting started with this boy. I think he’ll pair up nicely with Lizzy and, once I get a little meat on his bones, will work well for my trail rides and pack trips. I think I’m going to like him.
It’s just January 12th and already I’m starting to feel the “cabin fever” setting in.
We’ve had somewhere around two feet or more of snow fall in the past three weeks or so here in Salem, Utah. It seems like every time we have a day or two with decent weather, something comes up to keep me from heading out for a horse ride. So, for the past several days I’ve had a nearly overwhelming desire to get into the saddle and just ride.
I find myself getting on Youtube and searching for trail rides and pack trips in places I’d like to go. Found one this evening from Miller Ranch in Scottsdale, Arizona that advertises their trail rides through Monument Valley in Arizona, on the Navajo Reservation. I’ve always wanted to do some riding at a number of sites on the “Rez” in Arizona. I need to get my foster brother, Harrison Gorman, to guide me through some of those places.
LizzyJimbo
Last week I sold my paint, Reno, so I’m now down to two horses. Hopefully, my Fox Trotter mare, Lizzy is in foal (I’ll get her checked in another month or so) and will give me a new little spotted Fox Trotter foal in September, so I’ll have to start taking it easy on her starting about July. While I love my little mustang, Jimbo, he’s just not the trail partner I want for Lizzy. Although Jimbo is a great horse and I won’t sell him, I’m wanting another Fox Trotter to pair up with Lizzy.
So, I’ve been keeping my eyes open for a good buy on a Fox Trotter gelding.
Found one in the local classifieds that has me interested. He’s a grade 10 year-old (by the owner’s guess) gelding that has a gait. The owner believes he’s a Fox Trotter, due to his build and conformation, but he was purchased at auction so he doesn’t know the breeding. He was told the horse was a 4 year-old Tennessee Walker. He was pretty poor at the time of the purchase, so I assume he was a “rescue” sort of horse that went to auction. The owner intended to put some training on the horse and sell him at a profit. Turns out the owner just didn’t have the time, so he’s got him up for sale. The owner told me he’s had a saddle on the horse, but hasn’t yet tried to ride him, doesn’t know whether he’s saddle-broke.
I went out and took a look at this fellow. The owner’s father got him into a halter and led him out for me. I could see the horse needs work right off the bat, because we had to corner him in the corral to get the halter on him. Once the halter was on, though, he behaved himself very well, just maybe a little skittish.
He is a well-put-together gelding, although still a little light – could use another hundred pounds or so. I could feel his spine back in the loin area, and he could use some muscle in his chest and back. His conformation looks much like a Fox Trotter, although the folks at the auction told them it was a Walker. He has the typical short back, deep chest, and nicely sloped shoulder and rump, of the Fox Trotter. He has straight legs and good hooves (although they need a good trimming). He’s a very nice looking dappled palomino with blond mane and tail.
I watched him on a longe line for a few minutes and he, indeed, has a gait that looks like a fox trot, although he wouldn’t stay in it long before getting quite lateral and pacey in a trot. He has a nice, smooth canter. So, whether he’s got more Walker or Fox Trotter in him I can’t say for sure, but he’s got the gait. I think I could train him to clean it up and produce a very nice fox trot.
He let me raise his front left hoof without problem, but didn’t like me lifting his left rear. Still, he didn’t try to kick me or anything. He let me saddle him, although he didn’t like me tightening the cinch. Still, no cow-kicks or aggressiveness. I tried putting a foot in the stirrup and putting some weight in it, to see if he’d let me mount. He didn’t like that and reared and jumped forward. So, I assess that he’s not saddle broke and has only been handled on the ground.
Other than that I liked him. So, it’s down to whether I really want another horse right now and whether I have the gumption and time to break and train another horse. The gelding didn’t display any aggressive nature and was actually quite calm. I think I could probably get him broke to ride without getting dumped. That’s important to me nowadays, as I approach my 58th birthday this month.
As I’ve said before, I have to take my time and really evaluate a horse before I buy. I tend to bond with my animals, especially dogs and horses, and I’m not much of a horse trader. I tend to think of them as friends and trail partners, so when I buy one, I usually keep him – warts and all. There are few bad habits a horse could have that would cause me to sell it, unless it was dangerous or just plain mean. At the same time, I try to buy horses that have no conformation, health, or behavior issues, because I know horses with those kinds of issues won’t be able to do what I want them to do. If I think I can train them out of a bad habit, or if they just don’t have any decent training, I’m generally ok with that; I like to train my own horses. However, it’s been awhile since I actually broke one. I don’t bounce like I used to, so this is something to think about with this guy.
While I think this fellow is somewhat younger than the 10 years the owner puts him at, I’m still looking at a grade horse, possibly 10 years old, whose breeding is unknown, that has no training, and is not even saddle broke. In my book that puts him in the $500 – to – free price range. The owner listed him at more than twice that.
This afternoon a friend and I took an afternoon ride to see an abandoned railroad tunnel near Elberta, Utah, a little southwest of Utah Lake. We had planned to get out there early in the afternoon, but a few complications arose and we ended up saddled and riding around 3:30pm. We decided we would start our return to the truck about 4:30pm, since it would be dark by 5:30. Besides, it was below freezing and temps would be dropping further with the fading daylight.
The trailhead, well not really a trail, but where we started our ride, is at the intersection of US Route 6 and Elberta Slant Road, several miles west of Elberta, Utah. After nearly getting stuck in the snow a number of times while trying to park the truck and trailer, we started riding north on Elberta Slant Road.
Taking the railroad bed
A short half mile or so along the road, we came across the old railroad bed. The railroad was to be a narrow-gauge, intended to service mining interests in the area, but it was never completed. The railway beds were graded, but track was never laid. This was between 2009 and 2015, after which the effort was abandoned. The failed railroad effort left , for folks who like hiking, ATV-ing, and horseback riding in the hills, a very nice network of trails through much of the area between Eureka and Elberta. We left the road and followed the railroad bed.
The tunnel
About two miles along, after a few twists and turns, while enjoying some very nice (although very cold) riding and scenery, we came to the old railway tunnel. It runs through a low hill that interrupts the climb of the railway bed through a turn. The tunnel is large enough to allow a full-size pickup to drive through it. It is not reinforced, but does not appear to be dangerous. It runs about 100 feet in length, so it does not get any darker than shadow and one is never out of sight of at least one of the entries. Still it was pretty cool.
The tunnel entrance
By the time we headed back to the truck, the light was already fading. We allowed the horses to trot much of the way back, to save time. By the time we were about halfway back, I noticed my face was stiff and I was having a hard time talking. When I raised my gloved hand to warm my face, I found my face was completely numb! I had to pull my glove off and rub my face a little to make sure I didn’t get frostbite.
By the time we got back to the truck it was full dark and we were very cold. Our feet felt like solid stumps. The horses and my dog, Clancy, though, seemed unbothered by it. We hurriedly unsaddled and loaded the horses. By the time we were halfway home we were beginning to thaw out.
Still, it was a very nice ride, one I will take again under warmer conditions.
I have a horse up for sale. He’s a very handsome, good, solid four year-old palomino paint gelding I bought earlier this year for a pack trip. We were short one horse for a trip from Eagar, Arizona to Flagstaff, Arizona, about 200 miles total. Let me tell you a little about him.
When I came across Reno, I was actually looking for a mustang in the $5-800 range, that maybe needed a little training. They are pretty much a dime-a-dozen around here, because so many folks get caught up in the romance of adopting a mustang and training it themselves, only to find out they are in way over their heads. Then, a couple years down the road they end up selling an unbroke or greenbroke mustang for almost give-away prices. Well, it’s simply a fact, and that’s what I was looking for.
Reno, as advertised
Anyway, back to Reno, I came across an ad for him and really liked the photos they included of him. He was advertised as being about 14 hands and a 3 year-old. The asking price was above what I was looking for, but was still within my range, so I decided to pass by and take a look. He was located in Heber, UT.
I found that he had been raised from a foal by the family who owned him, and that he was very personable, almost a puppy dog personality, but, also like a puppy, he was somewhat disrespectful. Now, a disrespectful puppy is one thing, but a disrespectful horse can hurt you. He wouldn’t let me lift his hooves, cow-kicked when I messed with his belly, and would turn his rump into me when he was annoyed, rather than moving away as a horse should. These things I can work out of a horse with a little training. What I look for is good conformation, good straight legs, good hooves, and a good attitude. With the exception of a quarter-crack in his right rear, he had all these things. He was also a little taller than advertised, coming in at about 14.2 or so, and stout, which I liked.
After a good inspection and a couple weeks of thinking about it I decided the quarter crack was due to lack of hoof care and not to any kind of coronet injury and that it would heal up just fine with some good care. I dickered with the owners and we agreed on a price that was good for both of us.
I have to be careful when buying a horse, because I rarely sell them. I get pretty attached to my animals and once they are mine I tend to keep them, regardless of any shortcomings they may have. I wouldn’t be a very good horse trader. So, two rules I have set for myself when horse shopping are 1) I don’t take my trailer or any money when I look at a horse for the first time (unless I have to drive a couple hours just to see it), 2) I don’t hand over the money until I have the horse in the trailer. Rule #2 is very important, because I generally buy horses that “need an experienced rider,” which usually means they have little to no training and might not have ever been in a trailer. Once I get a horse into the trailer, I’m good to pay the money.
I forgot that rule with Reno. I bought him, paid the money, then headed out to the trailer. That was a mistake I won’t make again. What a rodeo! It took us more than two hours to get him loaded. He fought, reared, fell over, and pawed. We finally got him into the trailer and headed home. Getting him out of the trailer was just about as fun. He eventually tried to turn around in my 4-horse slant-load and got stuck in the loading door. He reared over backwards and fell out of the trailer onto his back. No harm done, just shook up.
So, I knew I had my work cut out for me.
The first thing I had to take care of was the disrespect. This horse was about as friendly as any horse I have ever owned. In fact, I think he likes people better than horses. Having him in a pasture with four other horses was good for him, because they began right away to teach him the horse etiquette he had never learned, being raised by people with no other horses around.
The cow-kicking and moving away from me were first on my agenda.
Now, from my experience with horses, I have learned that training a horse is not a whole lot different than raising kids. In fact, I often wish I had garnered more horse training experience before my kids came along, but I just didn’t have time for both back then. I find that horses require a gentle, but firm hand and consistency in order for them to progress well from step to step in the training. The one exception to that rule is when something they do can get someone hurt. There are times when swift and severe punishment will cure a bad habit faster and more surely than any other method. The horse learns very quickly that “when I do that, I get hurt.” So, with that in mind I decided to cure the cow-kicking the very first day.
I have a very stout lead rope, made from the shrouds of a heavy military cargo parachute. It is about 3/4″ thick and has a very heavy brass snap hook on the end. With Reno dressed in a stout flat-braid nylon halter and a strong lead rope tied to a solid post, I moved in beside him on the “on-side” with my heavy shroud lead in my hand, dangling the heavy snap hook on about three feet of lead. With my left hand I began to touch and rub Reno’s belly. As soon as his left rear hoof came off the ground in a cow-kick I swung that heavy lead and whopped him hard on the rump with that heavy snap hook. He was quite surprised by that, so he jumped and moved away from me. We did it again. As soon as the hoof came off the ground, I whopped him. The fourth time I rubbed his belly, his hoof stayed on the ground. He has never again attempted a cow-kick as I touch his belly, rub him, brush, or saddle him.
Next up was teaching him to move away from me, rather than showing me his rump. We started that lesson when we worked on the cow-kick, but there was more to do. I found that he would not let me lift his left rear hoof. As I would try to reach for it, he would move into me and warn me off with his rump, threatening a kick (which he never did). We started working on this by me taking something pointed (not sharp) in my hand, such as the handle of a rasp, the handle ends of a pair of nippers, or a hoof pick, and whenever he moved into me I would let him move into that pointed object, so that he would feel it. The harder he pushed, the harder he felt it. He didn’t like that and learned to move away from me. I would not poke him with it, or push him away with it, but let him move into it. That way, as soon as he stepped away, the pressure was gone. Had I followed him with it, he would not have learned how to avoid the pointed object poking his hip by moving away. Now this, being a more gentle (but firm) method of training, it was several sessions before he learned not to move into me. Now, several months later, he moves away with a simple nudge from me with no stubbornness at all.
The third thing we started working on was lifting his hooves. While he was still somewhat disrespectful, he allowed me to lift his fronts and his right rear, but would not allow me to lift his left rear. I don’t know why. There is no apparent injury or scar I can see, but for some reason he’s touchy about the left rear. When I would try to lift it he would cow-kick and move away from me. He wasn’t really trying to kick me, he just didn’t want me lifting his hoof. To address this, I took my heavy lead rope and looped it around his left rear pastern, under the fetlock. I would lift his hoof with the rope and simply hold it off the ground while he kicked. I would hold both ends of the rope in my right hand, while leaning against the horse with my left, so I could keep my balance as he kicked away. You have to stand back a bit, just to make sure he doesn’t connect with one of those cow-kicks. After a minute or two, he would get tired and stop kicking. As soon as he stopped kicking and let his leg relax, I lowered it to the ground. If he kicked as I was lowering it, it got raised up again until I could lower it all the way to the ground without a struggle. In this way, after a number of sessions, Reno learned that when he was relaxed I quit bothering his leg. He also learned that the kicking did no good and was just wasted energy. Now I can lift all his feet without trouble. In fact, he lifts them for me as I reach for them. He is learning the respect lessons.
I started riding Reno shortly after I brought him home. The owners told me they had given him to a local rancher for the summer, to have him broke and trained. They said they had often seen the rancher’s kids riding him around. At the time I didn’t think too much about that, except to consider him somewhat saddle broke. I found out pretty quickly that Reno was simply greenbroke, meaning I could saddle and ride him, but he didn’t know much else. I took him for a couple rides in the local area and was pleased with him. He learned pretty quickly that I was easy to get along with and we had no real problems on the trail. In fact, my dad and I took Reno along with the rest of the horses on a three-day ride south of Moab, Utah in April, on which I was quite impressed with Reno’s calm demeanor and good head on the trail. We went up and down, and round and round, trail, no trail, bushes, gullies, over fallen trees, and even through a tunnel under a highway. Reno took little convincing and was willing to give anything I asked of him a try. I was very pleased.
Reno in his first packing training experience
I later took Reno on a day ride as a pack horse. I Loaded a 50# sack of feed in each side of a set of hard-sided, bear-proof paniers, and took him on a trail ride. As far as I know this was his first experience with a pack saddle. At first he was scared by the noise the paniers make, being hard plastic, and we had a little bit of a rodeo for a few minutes. After that, he settled down and did well. It didn’t take him long to learn to keep the paniers away from things like rocks and trees. Once we rounded a narrow trail with a rock face on his left and Reno allowed the left panier to hit the wall. The force knocked him sideways off the trail and down a steep embankment into the shallow river below. Once he got his feet back under him, he simply climbed back up the embankment, let me grab his lead rope, and we went on. By the time we were done for the day, Reno had learned to keep those paniers away from obstacles near the trail. From that day to this he has never rubbed my leg or knee on anything alongside the trail.
In May, Dad and I embarked on our pack trip. We had four horses and a mule. The horses were rotated as pack and saddle animals, to keep them fresh and rested. Reno was everything I hoped on the trip. Never did I have any problem with him.
Well, I did have one problem. When I was leading him as a pack horse, whenever I stopped to rest the horses he would walk up next to my right leg and drop his head to graze. When he would lift his head the lead rope would come up under my stirrup and get wrapped around my leg. When I complained about it out loud, Dad laughed and said it was my own fault. He pointed out that whenever Reno came up next to me, I would reach over and rub his neck and scratch his ears and he liked it! Ah, well, I guess that’s a bad habit I taught him.
You can see a video of me on Reno, crossing Clear Creek on the Arizona Trail, about 70 miles south of Flagstaff, Arizona here:
After we finished the pack trip I decided to continue Reno’s training. There are a few things I like my trail horses to know, such as moving off leg pressure and heel cues to move their fore and hind quarters; there are times on the trail when you need to position a horse in order to cross an obstacle or ascend or descend a particularly difficult place.
I took Reno into a small training arena to start working on his cues, only to find that he became extremely excited in the arena. As calm as he is on the trail, I was quite surprised. He was, in fact, so excitable in the arena that we did very little training at all. I just tried to work on him simply walking around the arena calmly. I found I was having to handle him more aggressively with the snaffle bit than I like, occasionally causing him to get a sore mouth, so I have moved him to a 3/4″ braided rawhide bosal for this training. He responds much better in the hackamore.
I generally start all my horses on a snaffle bit, then move them to a bosal hackamore for the bulk of their training. When they are easy on the controls I move them to a solid curb bit. Reno had been doing so well in the snaffle, that I had just left him in that and hadn’t done much hackamore work on him. He’s progressing well now.
The only thing I can guess with Reno is that the former trainer (the rancher) probably had his kids riding him most of the time. I expect that was often out pushing cattle, which would explain is calm demeanor on the trail, however, my guess is that the kids also attempted to try roping off him in an arena. I expect he got spurred a bit in the doing. That is the only explanation that comes to mind and fits the evidence. Regardless, I have been spending my time lately, trying to continue his training and get him over his excitement – fear – inside enclosed areas.
I normally train with spurs on , as I find horses tend to learn quicker with their judicial use and I can give more precise cues with the touch of a spur than with a heel. However, with Reno, I have removed my spurs. He over-reacts to them, I suppose, as a result of being exposed to some undisciplined spur use from his previous “trainers.” With much patience and a gentle hand, I have been slowly getting Reno to recognize what I am asking with my heel cues. He is very willing, but still reacts more out of fear than desire to learn, which makes learning difficult. Fear simply isn’t a good training tool. My job, therefore, is to teach him that my cues don’t hurt and that learning to respond to them calmly brings peace and rest (my, that sounds almost religious!).
Reno gets better each day. I have been trying to ride him more often this winter, when time allows. When I can consistently ride him an hour or two every day or so he improves rapidly.
The problem with that is that every time I ride him I like him more and more and want to sell him less and less!
I recently created a new website for a sports fan group I have belonged to for more than ten years. We are die-hard fans of everything related to Brigham Young University sports, especially football. We had been using a forum service, YUKU, for a lot of years and finally got tired of the poor service and goofy advertisements they slipped into our forum. We had to pay a fee not to see advertisements. Finally we got so fed up with it that we began to talk about looking for a new home for our forum. As we discussed it, I realized that it would be a pretty simple solution for us to buy a domain name and create our own website and forum. So, that’s what we did, using my web hosting account with Bluehost. So, I created byufans.net. It is a closed group, though, so membership is limited to the current members and those individuals who are personally invited by a member. Sorry.
Anyway, what does that have to do with Western Trail Rider? Well, the new website looks so good and works so well and is so easy to manage that I was quite impressed with myself (hehehe). But, when I switch over to my WTR site, well, it started looking a bit drab and old. Now, every time I look at WTR I think I need to update it.
So, I’m going to be looking at new themes and other apps and programs that might sort of dress up the site and make it more user-friendly and easier to manage. Once I decide what to do, I’ll let everybody know that it may be down for a few hours…that is, if everything goes well…or a few days, if I mess up. Now, nobody need suppose that I am a website developer or otherwise expert, or even knowledgeable, about websites and blogs. I just trip along until something looks pretty good and works ok. WordPress has made things pretty simple for guys like me. It is mostly a matter of figuring out what I like, then plug-and-play. Still, I seem to be able to mess things up pretty well, as I try mixing and matching different services on the site. The challenge is going to be ensuring that I don’t lose any of the photos, information, posts, and serviceability of the current site.
Also, I understand how each provider of an app or service can spend thousands of hours developing a simple app for dummies like me to “plug-and-play” and that they certainly deserve to be paid for their efforts. However, when a guy like me starts adding up the various fees and subscriptions and donations, the cost starts to reach a significant level per year, particularly when I am not making a penny on the website.
I created the website shortly after I started planning my big horse pack trip a few years ago. A number of folks suggested that I start a blog, so they could keep up with my planning, gear purchases and reviews, and other developments, as well as documentation of the trip itself. It occurred to me that I might just as well purchase a domain name, start a website of my own, and invite other horse and trail riding folks to blog along with me. The thought was that we, together, might create a website where like-minded people might come to find information about horse trails in the western U.S. and to get first-hand information from people who had actually ridden those trails. I’m not talking about state and national park trails – there are numerous websites for those places. I’m talking about the backtrails and places that are almost unknown except to riders from the local areas. Places folks hear about, but few ever see. I figured that eventually there might be enough bloggers on the site that a little advertising income might be generated, to pay for the website maintenance. That hasn’t developed, so I’m content with simply using the site as a place to document my horse adventures for a few faithful followers to enjoy.
Still, I’d like to make it an attractive and interesting website. So, I’ll be working on updating it over the coming couple of months.
Stay tuned to see what I come up with!
P.S. The invitation is still open for anybody who would like to start their own horse-related blog under the WTR banner or to link an existing blog through WTR. The only requirement is that it be related to horse trails in the western U.S. or some aspect of horse or mule packing. There is no charge and I maintain the site at no expense to you…unless you would like to help out. If you have interest, send me an email at tony.henrie@westerntrailrider.com.
I recently found an old email from Nancy Hood, one of the many people Dad and I encountered on our pack trip last summer, who so generously helped us out time and again with fresh drinking water and good conversation. Nancy had a photograph of Dad and me that she took. She emailed it to me just a couple days ago. Made me think I should post some of the photos from the trip.
I still need to make a post or two to document the last two weeks of the trip for my followers. Time has been at a premium for me lately and I just haven’t been able to get the time and energy together at the same time.
These photos are roughly in order from our departure at Eagar, AZ to the end of our trail at Flagstaff, AZ. Many of these photos were taken on the Arizona Trail.
Enjoy the photos, and much thanks again to all those who so generously contributed to our successful ride.
Mom and Dad before we departed Eagar
At the Corral on my place at Eagar
Me and Ranger getting ready to head out
Packing up at Eagar
Heading out from Eagar, facing about a 50mph headwind.
Camp off of Fish Creek
My last ride on Ranger
In Camp on Gillespie Flat
Heading out at Woods Lake
Traveling on the General Crook Trail
On the General Crook Trail
Ryan and Ashley Berg. Thanks for the water!
Pic by Ashley and Ryan Berg on the Mogollon Rim
On the Mogollon Rim
On the Mogollon Rim
The Lundberg family. Thanks for the water!
Arrival at the Arizona Trail, about 150 miles east of our starting point, Eagar, AZ
Well, sad as I am to say it, our pack trip has ended at Flagstaff, after about 197 miles of travel.
Temperatures are at record highs. Fire danger is extreme. There is no water in northern Arizona anywhere along the Arizona Trail.
Last Monday we made 23.8 miles and the last water we saw was near Marshall Lake at about mile 3-4. By the time we made Flagstaff we knew we were in trouble. The last 6 or so water holes we passed were bone dry. We finally had to call Gwen and Bruce Kahler, who hauled about 70 gallons out to us and met us where the AZ Trail meets Route 66. That supplied ourselves and our horses for that night and the next morning.
Gwen Kahler, our guide through the Flagstaff area
Gwen stayed and rode with us on Tuesday, as we finished the AZT Equine Bypass route through the mountains and around Flagstaff. We passed one running stream (only the second we had seen the whole trip) as we headed back up to higher elevations. We made Schultz Tank, which had water, by about 3pm. From there it was only about four more hours of riding to reach Gwen’s place, so we decided to make the push. We reached her place by about 7pm, making a 19.2 mile day.
On Wednesday, as we were running errands, re-supplying ourselves for the second half of the trip, I contacted the USFS to ask about conditions between Flag and the Grand Canyon National Park. The answer I got was disheartening. He said we would find water in the higher elevations just north of Flagstaff, but once we dropped down into the lower elevations on the AZT we would find none. That meant we would have about 95 miles of dry terrain with no water for ourselves or our stock.
Gwen got on the phone and started making calls and texts and was able to recruit help in hauling and locating water for us so that we could make our dates at the Grand Canyon. Gwen was going to ride with us to the South Rim, so she had a vested interest. It began to look as though we were going to make it at least that far.
Once at the Grand Canyon, we would have water, as the park has provisions for both potable water and stock troughs. However, once we left the North Rim campground, we would face another 100 miles, approximately, to the next reliable water source, the Paria Creek. As for feed, we had plenty of grass in the higher elevations, but there was very little once we dropped down into the Junipers. We could not pack more than enough feed for a day or two.
This is the driest year I can remember for Arizona. There are fires all over the state, we have already had to re-route around one major fire and were lucky enough to have passed through a couple more areas before they were restricted due to fires.
On Wednesday, the USFS announced open-flame prohibitions on the areas north of Flagstaff, through which we would be riding. We used a small single-burner stove for all our cooking needs, so that didn’t restrict us, but it shows just how dangerous the situation has become.
At the Kahler’s place we were able to find a large animal vet to come out and do the health checks on our horses and mule, so that we had current certificates to enter the Grand Canyon National Park with. We also found a farrier who was willing to come out and re-shoe all our stock on short notice. We were in the middle of getting that done on Thursday, when we got the phone call that was the last straw.
My mother had a very rare and serious reaction to a prescription medicine and had been hospitalized.
It was time to stop and take care of more important business. My sister and brother-in-law came up and picked us up at the Kahler’s place that evening. Dad and I drove back up and hauled the horses back to Eagar on Saturday.
Mom is doing better now and the emergency has passed. She was home before we got home. Dad and I got to thinking we might haul the horses to the Grand Canyon and do the ride there, since I already have the permits and reservations in place and paid for. Mom gave us the go-ahead, but looking at the forecast for the next week, it appears the Grand Canyon will be experiencing record high temperatures. This has been one of the hottest and driest springs on record for Arizona. I have already lost one horse on this trip. I am not willing to risk losing another to the extreme heat in the Grand Canyon, nor to risk Dad’s or my own health any further.
Fact is, this just isn’t the right year to be attempting this ride.
On our pack trip last year, everything worked like clock-work. Things simply fell into place. This year has been different. We have fought through every kind of complication. If something could go wrong, it did. It’s time to stop before something goes really wrong and somebody gets hurt. This trip has already cost me a very good horse. The warning signs have been getting louder as we go. It’s time to concede and head home.
On the Mogollon Rim. Thanks to the Bergs for the photo
Be assured, the trip has not been wasted; Dad and I had some very rewarding days and we passed through some beautiful country. We have been pleased with the AZT and impressed with the care and maintenance most of it has received. We have seen dozens of elk, deer, and antelope, and ridden trails most folks will never see. We have enjoyed the ride immensely. We have experienced something most fathers and sons will never experience.
We’re sorry we aren’t going to make it all the way, but we want to assure all those who have helped and encouraged us along the way, that this was not wasted time. It was all a good and rewarding experience for Dad and me. We are truly grateful for all the help and support we have received.
I will post photos and a trip log after I get home and get settled. The Internet service here in Eagar is not sufficient for me to upload photos. I expect it will be a couple weeks.
I thought I’d write up the first few days of our Eagar to Panguitch trip this year, so our followers would understand what took place to cause our current delay.
Packing up
Last Tuesday, our departure day, we got out to my pasture, where the horses were kept, and started sorting and packing our gear. Of course, it took longer than we hoped to get packed up. Separating our food supplies and gear into separate piles, packing them into paniers, saddling the horses, etc, is a real chore. We eventually just started stuffing things into paniers and figured we’d reorganize stuff in camp the first night. We just wanted to get underway.
We finally got saddled and underway about 12:50pm. Three of my grand nieces rode with us the first several miles.
Heading out through Eagar, AZ
The day was clear, not a cloud in the sky, but we faced a direct headwind blowing at about 40 miles per hour, gusting, I’m pretty sure, to over 60. At over 7,000 feet elevation, any wind is a cool one. Our first 11 miles were across a treeless high plateau, just west of Eagar, with that wind blowing in our faces. It was absolutely miserable! I fixed my eye on a cinder pit in the distance, which marked an uphill grade that would eventually take us into the trees and give us some shelter from the wind, and just kept heading for it, one step at a time.
Facing a headwind across this with no shelter in sight
The going was quite slow, as the horses didn’t like the wind any more than we did and we didn’t push them. We averaged about 2.89 miles per hour for the day, according to my GPS.
Late in the afternoon we reached the trees and worked our way along Route 260 to Forest Road (FR) 1325, which we took northward. We looked around and ended up settling on a campsite just off of FR1325, about a quarter mile from Rt 260. There was plenty of lush grass, a small stream of water for the horses, and a nice, level spot for us. We stopped around 6:30pm and settled-in for the night.
First night’s camp
We picketed the horses on the grass and let them get their fill. We let Reno and Jimbo go free and picketed Ranger and Black, since they were the leaders of the bunch. However, when I poked my head up out of my sleeping bag in the morning, all the horses were gone. While Dad started breakfast, I headed out to look for them.
It didn’t take me long to find them. Apparently the grass was just too good for them to leave it, so they just stopped at a fence at the end of the grassy pasture. Not long after, I had them tied back in camp and we were working on getting loaded up. Seemed like we had plenty of time, so we took it, and ended up heading out around 9:30am.
The plan was to head north on FR1325 about 3/4 mile to a point where the road changes direction. We would head off the road and bushwhack about 3/4 of a mile west to get out on top of the plateau, about 400 feet higher. Right off the bat we found an old logging road that took us precisely in the direction we wanted to go, so we followed it about a half mile before it simply petered-out. By our maps, we could see that we were only a few hundred feet short of the top, where it would open up into high meadows on the plateau. We tried several different routes before giving up. We just could not find a way through the trees that a pack horse could negotiate going up that last sidehill.
We turned around and headed back the way we had come and decided to head back out to Rt 260 and follow it on up to the top. That turned out to be a wise decision for us, as it was an easy climb and the road easement is very wide. At one point we found a tunnel that crossed under the highway for cattle to pass through. It was about 8′ tall and 6′ wide, or so. We took the horses through it and back, thinking it would be good experience for them for when we hit that tunnel at the bottom of the South Kaibab Trail in the Grand Canyon.
Once we made the crest of the hill and started out onto the plateau, we again hit the wind. Just as strong as the day before, but colder. We were now somewhere around 9,500′ elevation. We had to push through the wind again, with no shelter at all, for about another mile, before we found a gate in the fence that allowed us to head back into the trees.
A herd of elk at Fish Creek
We followed a little two-track northward about a half mile and found a valley. The map indicated this was the valley of Fish Creek. As we approached the valley we spied an elk watching us. It eventually headed down over a drop-off into the valley. As we got closer we saw about 10-15 elk reposing and grazing in the valley. It was a beautiful sight.
A spring on Fish Creek
We found our way down a steep decline into the valley, by way of an elk trail, where we located a running spring. We stopped there and let the horses graze a bit while we refilled our drinking water containers. By that time we were tired and Reno was obviously uncomfortable. He was starting to give us trouble, pulling back and having to be dragged along. We decided to find a campsite and call it a day. We located a site just a couple hundred yards away that suited us perfectly: lots of grass, running stream, and a nice, level spot that was somewhat sheltered from the wind.
When we had unloaded all the horses, we found that Reno had a very tender back. He had been carrying a heavy load, over 200 pounds, for two days now, and he was very sore. We decided to make the following day a rest day, despite the fact that we had made only about 20 miles in our first two days, about 3 of which were in the wrong direction.
Finding plenty of firewood at this campsite, we decided to make a campfire for cooking, to conserve our propane. It was pleasant, sitting around the campfire that evening, but we were tired and went to bed directly after eating our supper. We again tied two horses – this time to trees – and let the other two graze freely all night.
Camp on Fish Creek
The following morning we slept-in a bit, since we were not going to be moving that day. We got up at around 6:30am. We still had all our horses there in the pasture. Dad untied Black and let him graze, but, out of an abundance of caution, I kept Ranger tied. I’m glad I did, because while we were busy cooking our breakfast, the other three horses headed for home without us noticing. Ranger started snorting and we looked up and only had one horse.
I saddled Ranger and went after the other horses. I was able to follow their tracks well enough to see that they were heading directly down the valley southeastward, following Fish Creek. I found them about a mile and a half down the valley, where the trees began to choke the valley. When they saw me and Ranger, they walked our direction and were easy to catch up. I took Black’s lead and headed back, assuming Jimbo and Reno would follow. They did…for a few hundred yards, but then began falling behind, grazing along the way. Figuring they would continue to follow and eventually get back to camp, I headed on back.
I arrived back at camp, tied Black and Ranger, and ate breakfast, which Dad had prepared in the meantime. When the other two horses hadn’t appeared by the time I finished, I decided I had better go find them. I figured they’d be right about where I last saw them, grazing in the valley. I mounted Ranger and headed out, but they were nowhere to be found. I headed back to camp and Dad saddled up Black and we headed out together to search for our lost pack horses.
Not far from where I last saw them, I located their tracks heading up a cow trail that led back out on top. We followed until we lost the trail, but it was apparent they were heading back towards Eagar. I eventually caught up with them about a half-mile from our last camp. Again, they were glad to see Ranger and came right to me. I caught up Jimbo’s lead and led them back toward camp, with Reno following. He, in fact, did follow this time.
Having learned our lesson, or so we thought, we then tied three horses and let one graze freely, but being the enterprising individuals we are, we devised a method whereby all the horses could get their fill of grazing. We tied rather large rocks to the leads of Jimbo, Ranger, and Black. We tied the horses by their front left foot with a bowline hitch, such that the rock acted as a stake. When we wanted to move the horse to better graze, we simply moved the rock. We were pretty pleased with ourselves, until the next morning, when I poked my head out of my sleeping bag and found that we were horseless. All four had left the valley.
After looking around, it became apparent that something, elk or maybe a coyote or lion, had spooked them during the night and they had dragged their rocks until they had come off the leads and the horses ran freely with their 35′ foot leads attached.
This time, while Dad made breakfast, I headed out on foot to locate our wayward herd. I was pretty sure I knew where they had gone, so I headed out. I again located their tracks on that same trail as before, heading up onto the plateau and off toward Eagar. This time they didn’t make it quite as far as before, and I might have walked right by them, except that Ranger nickered at me when he saw me. There they were, standing back in the trees, looking like they were waiting for me to find them.
They let me approach and I started catching up leads and tying them to trees, while I untied the foot-ropes. Ranger had a knot and scrape on his nose, but other than that all the horses were unharmed. As far as I knew, none of the horses had ever been ridden bareback. I would have trusted Ranger, but at 16 hands, there was no way I was going to be able to get on his back. So, I led them all back to camp on foot. When I got back, my GPS indicated I had walked about 3 miles, not counting the distance I walked earlier without the GPS. I figure I walked about 5 miles that morning. I was pooped!
So, there it was Friday morning and we had made a total of about 17 miles, and a bit.
Reno’s back was nearly back to normal now, as we had been giving him a helping of bute each morning to ease his pain and reduce the swelling. He was still a little tender, but wasn’t flinching when I brushed his back. We realized that our packs were overloaded, due to the fact that we had brought 100 pounds of Equidyne pelletized alfalfa feed with us to supplement the horses’ feed. We made the decision to dump the feed, since there was plenty of grass available. This brought our loads back down to far better levels and allowed us to redistribute the weight among the two pack horses more evenly. In an effort to take it easy on Reno, we decided to put the heavier load, the hard-sided paniers and top pack, on Jimbo and let Reno carry the soft paniers.
Back on the trail, leaving Fish Creek
We got packed up and were back on the trail by about 1pm, heading west along Fish Creek, toward FR 117.
What a beautiful ride it was. We met FR 117 less than an hour later and headed northward. We joined FR 61 several miles up the road, near the base of Green’s Peak. We followed it about 7 miles west and north toward FR 96, but stopped about 3/4 of a mile short of it, making about 11 miles for the day. We had decided to keep our mileage around ten miles to take it easy on the horses and to avoid soring Reno’s back again.
What a ride!
This day’s ride was the kind of ride Dad and I had dreamed about. We had horses that got along well, so we could ride side-by-side, which we did almost all day. We talked, dreamed, schemed, spoke of the ranches we wished we had, and talked of horses and dogs we had known over the years. I loved hearing Dad’s stories of his youth, growing up in Panguitch, Utah and surrounding areas. As badly as the day started, this day became one of those perfect days for us.
Look closely in the middle and you’ll see the antelope fawn
Several miles up FR 61, we came upon several Pronghorn Antelope. One of them had a fawn that could not have been more than a day old. Dad had seen the fawn, but I hadn’t. Suddenly it jumped up and ran across the road in front of me. I was able to snap a quick photo of it. It was something one does not often see.
We had hoped to reach FR 96 before stopping for the night, but as we passed through Gillespie Flat, we saw a beautiful campsite, several hundred yards off the road, back in some Ponderosa pines, at 8,653′ elevation, with a spring and good grass a short distance away. It was too nice to pass up.
Elk checking us out
As we were unpacking the horses, we heard something snort from back in the trees. We eventually spied a cow elk watching us from about two hundred yards away. None of our horses took note at all, except Jimbo, our mustang. He located that elk the first time it blew and was watching her with piqued interest. The elk would snort at us and Jimbo would snort right back. This went on for several minutes, with the elk working its way closer all the time. Eventually, the elk approached to within about 30 yards of camp, inspecting us and our horses closely, before moving off.
Camp Day four, on Gillespie Flat
We again decided to make a campfire for cooking and it was a good decision, because it got very cold that night, down into the 20s. We let the horses graze freely for the early evening, but made sure we kept a good eye on them. After eating our supper, we tied all four horses, Ranger and Reno by foot-ropes, so they could graze freely on the good grass. It was their turn. After supper, Dad and I sat around the fire and enjoyed the evening. We hit the sack around 9pm.
About 2:00am I was awakened by the sound of pounding hooves. I jumped up out of my sleeping bag, grabbed my flashlight and shined it toward the sound. I saw Ranger tied up against a tree and struggling. I ran to him and found he had wrapped his foot rope, around the tree until he was snubbed against the tree with his right side against the tree and his left front crossed in front of him and twisted around the tree trunk tight against the rope. He was pulling back against it with all his strength. I tried to calm him, but he was in a panic and there was no way for me to help him but to cut the rope. I ran to my bed to grab my knife, and about halfway there I heard a loud “snap”, like a large tree branch breaking, and I knew I was too late. I grabbed my knife and was back at his side within seconds. I slashed the rope with one pass, releasing his leg, but I could see his left front leg was broken, up high near the elbow. It hung awkwardly and useless, as he stood three-legged.
Ranger didn’t struggle, didn’t try to walk. He just stood there looking at me as if I might be able to help him. I held his neck and talked to him as I sobbed, knowing there was nothing I could do; knowing I would have to put him down.
By this time, Dad had made it to us. He held Ranger while I went to my saddle and retrieved my .22 rifle. I loaded it with several rounds of ammunition and carried it back to where Ranger was standing with his head held low. I spoke a few comforting words to him, mostly of comfort to me I suppose, but maybe it helped him too. I rubbed his face, said my goodbyes, then I placed the end of the barrel on his forehead and squeezed the trigger. Ranger went down immediately, shuddered a little, then relaxed. It was all I could do to contain myself.
After putting Ranger down, Dad and I went back and slid into our sleeping bags. We both shed tears as we tried to console ourselves, me for my horse, Dad for me. Surprisingly, I fell back asleep.
About 3:30am I was suddenly wide awake, with the words ringing in my brain, “Go re-tie Reno!” I had forgotten all about him being foot-tied as well. During the incident with Ranger, he had been twenty feet from his tree, grazing calmly. I jumped out of bed immediately, grabbed my flashlight and ran to Reno. I found him with about one more turn around the tree left in the lead rope before he would have been in the same predicament as Ranger. I tied him by his halter rope, then untied the foot-rope and went back to bed, passing the lifeless body of my dear friend, Ranger.
This has been difficult for me to type. The image of Ranger struggling against the rope and the sound of his leg breaking are fresh in my mind. The knowledge that just ten seconds more would have turned that tragic incident into a simple learning experience fills my heart and mind with ”what-ifs”. Knowing that if I had tied him by his halter rope, rather than a foot-rope, fills me with regret and sorrow. I just didn’t know.
The following morning, we contacted some friends, who drove out and helped us load up our horses and gear and return to Eagar.
I left Ranger there at our camp, feeling like there was no better resting place than right where he lay. I, myself, have often thought I would prefer meeting my end leaning up against a tree overlooking a beautiful valley high in the mountains, to being buried in a cemetery. His body will eventually return to the earth, providing nourishment for plants and animals alike. I like that thought. Nothing wasted.
I clipped a few locks from Ranger’s beautiful tail. I plan to make a hat band from them, which I will keep in his memory, so that part of him is always with me as I ride my trails.
I hope I am not judged too harshly for what happened to Ranger. He had been foot-tied many, many times in the past and never worried me in the least. I never considered that such a thing could happen. I had no idea. I have learned. It was a hard lesson, one that will not be forgotten.
See you on the other side, Ranger. I miss you already.
After making several drives and looking over our proposed route, as well as a lot of Internet research, here is what we know so far about our route and time frames for travel.
First of all, there are a couple of dates that are hard and cannot be changed. I have Backcountry Camping Permits for the Grand Canyon National Park for June 29 and 30, 2016 for four horses and two people. Those are very hard to come by, and I was very lucky to have landed it. Those dates are fixed. The second date is the Pioneer Day Parade at Panguitch, Utah. That will be on July 23, 2016. This will also coincide with the 64th class reunion of Panguitch High School’s Class of 1952, Dad’s graduating class. We cannot miss those dates.
So, with that in mind, here goes.
We originally planned to depart on Dad’s 82nd birthday. We had to postpone that one day, so I could see one of my grandkids…and my daughter of course., who will visit from Texas to see us off. So, we will start making tracks on Tuesday, May 24, 2016, from my pasture at 217 N. Poverty Flat Road, Eagar, AZ, 85925. Anybody who would like to start the ride with us should be there ready to ride by about 10:00am. There is plenty of parking for trucks and trailers.
We will follow Route 260 west until we start up into the mountains, at which time we will take Forest Road 1235 north for a short ways. We will depart that road when it turns northeasterly and head directly west, cross-country. We will then join FR 117, which we will follow until we come to FR 61. We will take that to FR 96, then on to FR187, until we arrive at Sky Hi Road, Pinetop, Arizona, at the trailhead for Maverick Trail in the White Mountain Offroad Trail Association trail system.
This trailhead may be reached by taking Route 260 in Pinetop to Buck Springs Road, then north about 1/2 mile to Sky Hi Road. Turn left and follow Sky Hi north for two miles, until you come to the trailhead on the left.
We will follow the Maverick trail 50 miles to Clay Springs. We hope to be re-supplied for horse feed there by a friend from Pinetop. We will then connect with the General George Crook National Recreation Trail, which we will follow westward to join the Arizona Trail (AZT). We expect to reach the AZT by about Tuesday, June 6. We estimate 150 miles for that leg of the trip. The Mogollon Rim Road generally parallels the Crook Trail, so anybody wanting to find us may do so at a number of points along that route.
We will then follow the AZT north to Flagstaff, about 105 miles, more or less, and re-supply at the home of Gwen Kahler. We should arrive there about June 16 or so. We will probably rest there a day to have our horses re-shod and to get new health certificates for the horses (they must be current within 30 days to enter the Grand Canyon National Park). Once we hit the trail again, Gwen will ride with us for a few days. She will guide us through the area, hopefully bypassing a section of the AZT that is currently in bad shape with blow-downs. Anybody wanting to find us along that leg of the route may do so at various points where the trail intersects a number of Forest Service roads or at Mormon Lake.
The distance from Flagstaff to the South Rim of the Grand Canyon is about 108 miles. That should take us about 6-7 days of travel. Add two rest days in there and we should arrive on or about June 27. We have an equine campsite reserved at Mather Campground at the South Rim from June 25 through July 2. We hope to be able to make up a little time en route, so we can arrive on June 25, to allow ourselves and the horses some time to rest before our crossing of the “big ditch”. We have some help who will be there to re-supply us and to keep some of our gear while we make the crossing. They will meet us on the North Rim after the crossing, to again re-supply us and get us reloaded to continue our trip.
Our crossing is scheduled for Wednesday and Thursday, June 29-30. We will descend the South Kaibab Trail about 7.4 miles and stay the first night at Bright Angel Campground. On Thursday we will cross the Colorado River and ascend the North Kaibab Trail about 14 miles to the North Rim Campground. On Friday, July 1, we will exit the Grand Canyon National Park and camp outside the park boundary. While no one will be able to cross the Grand Canyon with us, due to the camping restrictions, anyone can ride with us from Flagstaff to the South Rim or from the North Rim on northward.
We will have about another 65 miles, or thereabouts to the Arizona/Utah border, which we should make by July 5. We will cross US 89 about 34 miles east of Kanab, where the highway takes a north-south jog to cross through a hogback ridge. We should cross the highway on or about Wednesday, July 6. We will be due a rest day about then. We may be meeting several people there, who would like to ride with us for a few days, but we haven’t yet confirmed that. If they meet us there, they will re-supply us and provide water for us and the horses there.
After that, we plan to continue northward, crossing the ridge to the east and entering the Paria River drainage. We will follow that northward until we reach the entrance to a canyon on the west side that leads to Willis Creek. We will follow Willis Creek through the slot canyon and on up to the lower trail that enters Bryce Canyon. That should take us about a day and a half from US 89.
We’ll likely find a nice campsite and rest a day there at the trailhead for Willis Canyon, while we contact the Bryce Canyon National Park park service. Our hope is that we may be able to make arrangements with the park service to allow us to enter the park from the trail at the bottom, ride the canyon, then end up at the top to exit the park. If that works, we will leave the park, then cross the Paunsaugunt Plateau to the Losee Canyon trail and descend to Casto Road, which we will follow on in to Panguitch. The route from Willis to Panguitch should take us no more than four days, putting us in Panguitch some time around Saturday, July 16.
If we are not allowed to enter the park, we will turn south on the Grand View Trail and skirt outside the park, then ascend the plateau to Tropic Reservoir. From there we will continue as outlined above. Travel time may increase by one day, but probably not.
After having made 355 miles in 28 days last year, this seems pretty optimistic. However, if we deduct the rest days and the days we were delayed at Safford, we averaged about 17 miles per day. My estimates put our total mileage this year at about 620 miles. At 17 miles per day, that puts our travel days for this trip at about 36, not including rest days. That includes a “fudge-factor” of 25% for those portions of the route that are not on the AZT. The AZT is, in fact, measured and marked, so there is no guesswork for that portion. We will be on the AZT for exactly 320.5 miles. I estimate the route from Eagar to the AZT at about 150 miles, and the portion from the Arizona/Utah border to Panguitch at about 85, before fudge factors. If my estimates are correct, and if we average 15 miles per day, with two rest days per week, we should have about 60 days on the trail, putting us at Panguitch on about July 23. That estimate is the long estimate. The short estimate has us arriving the week before, on or about July 16. Hopefully, the reality will fall somewhere in the middle.
We’ll see how it goes. The dates shown above, with the exception of the fixed dates mentioned, are our travel goals. While we have planned for 15 miles per day with two rest days per week, we can make up time by increasing our mileage and by eliminating some mid-week rest days, as necessary. Our only concern is that the mileage for the first two legs of the trip, from Eagar to the AZT may be underestimated. If we find that to be the case, we will increase our daily mileage to ensure we make our dates at the Grand Canyon. We will have plenty of time to slow down and take it easy after that.
So, there it is. That’s the plan.
Again, the invitation is there for anybody who would like to ride with us for any amount of time. If it is just a day or two, you can simply show up and ride with us. We will be able to accommodate your sleeping bag, food, and clothing on our pack horses. If you wish to stay with us for longer than two days, however, you’ll have to bring your own pack animal and provisions.
You can keep track of our progress, just like last year, on the live map. Just click on the “Map” link on the main menu of westerntrailrider.com and it will come up. The map will constantly update, so it will show where we are in “real-time”. I’ll also be posting updates almost daily from my DeLorme InReach Explorer, via satellite, to my facebook personal account and Western Trail Rider page.
My cell phone number is 540-422-1990. You can call or text me, but most of the time we won’t have signal (smile).
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