Tag Archives: horse packing

Days 10-15, Crossing the Desert to Safford

On Day 9, Sunday April 19, Dad and I had spent the day in camp at the mouth of Whitetail Canyon. Feeling refreshed, both in body and spirit, and the horses and Clancy being well rested from a day of rest, we were ready for the trip across the desert to Safford, Arizona.  Joshua Jensen and Al Smith, our capable guides through the Chiricahuas, had left us with a new supply of 200 pounds of Equidyne pelletized alfalfa for the passage across the desert. The saddle sores that had been starting to show on Daisy’s back were healing up after four days of being ponied bareback. We were in good shape. Our only concern now was being able to find water. We had about 80 miles across some very flat, dry desert country before we reached our next destination, Joshua’s place in Safford.

We had a good morning and it looked like for the first time we would be able to make an early start. Just as we were getting ready to mount, a fellow wanders into camp and we get to chatting. It was interesting conversation. The fellow was a local conservationist and birdwatcher. I neglected to take down his name and have forgotten it. It was he who had made the rock cairns we tried to follow on Saturday. Anyway, we talked too long and didn’t make it out of camp again until about 9:30am.

I was riding Lizzy, and, as usual, she set a pretty good pace for us. We left the mountains and joined Nolan Road and headed north, keeping just off the road to avoid vehicular traffic. Our goal was to reach San Simon, where we would cross under I-10 and find a place to make camp.

Somewhere along the route between Whitetail Canyon and San Simon on Nolan Road, we passed the 100-mile mark of our trip.

About half way to San Simon we found a water hole where we took a break and let the horses graze on some nice grass we found there, while Dad and I ate our lunch. For the entire trip our lunches consisted of a few bites of beef jerky, a Cliff Bar, raisins, and a bit of trail mix. We seldom stopped for lunch, usually eating a little at a time as we rode. As small as our lunches were, it was sufficient and we fared well. We were definitely hungry by the time we made camp in the evenings, though.

Dinner and Supper!
Dinner and Supper!

Our breakfasts and suppers consisted of dehydrated meals, made from ingredients mixed and matched from a food storage kit we bought from Walmart for the purpose. We had a variety of vegetable soup, creamed potato soup, corn chowder, and various combinations of those. Breakfasts included dehydrated eggs, the occasional packet of oatmeal, potato shreds, and some bacon bits. We cooked everything over a single coleman burner on a small propane can. Quite frankly, I don’t remember well what we ate most of the time. I’m sorry to say that some of the food wasn’t all that appetizing. Dad and I lost quite a bit of weight on the trip. I think the thing we missed most, in our suppers and breakfasts, was the fact that the dehydrated food kit included absolutely no meat! The imitation meat was also imitation tasty.

By nightfall, after 22.6 miles on the day, we made San Simon. We stopped by a ranch house, and finding nobody home, we helped ourselves to a spigot to water our horses and fill our canteens. We met a good friend of the rancher the following day, who happened to stop by for some friendly conversation, so we passed on our thanks for the use of the water spigot.

Finding no good place for a camp, we pulled off into a thicket that offered some concealment from the locals and made a dry camp. It was dusty, dirty, and full of thorny brush. We hit the hay early and departed early as well. Josh and Al stopped by in the morning on their way through town and helped us get loaded up and started. We then went back to the ranch where we watered the evening before and watered our stock. On our way back into town we ran into the fellow I mentioned above, Ron Mahan, who was able to give us some good directions for getting us into a wash, the San Pedro River, and under I-10 without having to concern ourselves with road traffic.

A nice pond in the desert
A nice pond in the desert

On this day we headed up the San Pedro River bed (otherwise known as a dry wash), which ran generally in our direction. We stuck to that for several miles, but knew we needed to find water for the horses. We struck a road heading east-west that Mr. Mahan had told us about. We followed it west about a mile and found two or three houses and a very nice pond. The pond had bass and panfish in good numbers. I suspect the locals had stocked the pond for their own fishing and eating pleasure. Strangely enough, our horses weren’t very thirsty. We left there and got back into our wash and continued northward.

As we were passing through a part of the wash that was thick with brush, I heard a muffled grunting and looked around to see what it was, knowing the area was prime for Javelina. I spotted a little pig no larger than a small puppy rooting and playing in the grass. We tried to get a picture of it, but the darn thing was so well camouflaged that when we saw the pictures we couldn’t find the little Javelina in it! The mother was nearby, so we let them be. An angry javelina is nothing to mess with. We moved on.

Shortly thereafter the wash became rather problematic to follow. It became deep, to where we could no locate ourselves with regard to the mountains and we could not see to find the next waterhole we were aiming for. It was also so choked with mesquite that it was tough, and painful, to get through in places. We climbed up out of the wash and began to head overland on higher ground.  Once on top, we spotted in the distance what looked like a cottonwood tree, which often indicates a well or water hole, so we headed that way.  It was, in fact, a cattle watering tank, but it hadn’t been maintained in a few years. It was choked with algae and moss. The horses drank from it, but not deeply. They didn’t like it.

Camp at Butte Well
Camp at Butte Well

By nightfall, we had again traveled about 18 miles. We camped that night at Butte Well, located just about a half-mile east of Orange Butte. There was a decent water trough for the horses, but nothing for us. Again, the water was full of green algae. At this camp we had to watch for cactus, because there was a low-growing species of prickly pear that you really had to watch out for. This area was very dry, with few trees even tall enough to tie the horses to. Again, not a very hospitable camp. This day, Clancy’s feet got pretty sore and I ended up with him on my saddle for several miles. The mileage we were making was getting to him. I ended up with him on my saddle quite a bit over the following few days. That night I checked his paws and found a mesquite thorn about 3/8″ long stuck all the way up in one pad.

The following morning I attempted to filter some of the water from the trough, with my Katadyn gravity-feed water filter, to fill our canteens. Lesson learned: Don’t try to filter filthy water! The algae plugged my filter before I had gotten a quart of drinkable water. That was a problem, since we didn’t have a spare filter. That meant we had no means of replenishing our drinking water until we reached Safford, another 40 or so miles farther along the trail. Well, we could have boiled water in a pinch, but that takes propane and time.

No, he's not dead.
No, he’s not dead.

We got back on the trail the following morning and followed a two-track ranch road westward. About five miles farther along we came to a solar-powered well with running water. We were able to fill our canteens, but the water tasted salty. The horses were fine with it, though. We ended up doing a lot of cross-country bushwhacking that day. It was a long one.  Around lunch time we located another waterhole that was apparently privately owned. There were a few improvements around it, such as a pathway and a small picnic area. We watered there then went a mile or so farther on, where we found some good grass. We let the horses graze for about an hour, while Dad and I ate lunch and rested.

We crossed the San Simon Fan area that day, which is a stretch where the government build low spreader dams to spread out the rain runoff to control erosion and spread the water over a wider area to benefit the local ecology. What it did, however, was to spread very fine silt over a very large area. Here’s a video that shows the area. It took us several hours to cross it. Here’s a video.

We made camp at Bailey Well that night, after having made a total of 21.2 miles. We had hoped to make Tanque, but would have arrived long after dark and we were completely bushed. We were tired!

Bailey Well was another solar-powered well, but we arrived after the sun was setting behind Mount Graham, so we obtained no water for our canteens. Horses were watered well, though. We ran out of drinking water the following morning, having just enough to make a breakfast.

The next day, Day 14, Friday , April 24, we headed north on a dirt road. Safford was about 20 miles away, so we hoped to make it all the way. We made Tanque around noon. We were lucky enough to find it a running well, so we were able to fill our canteens. The water tasted a bit better than the water we got from the previous well.

We followed dirt roads the rest of the way to Josh’s place, which was lucky for us, because it got us through the numerous cholla forests in the area. The cholla was flowering, so it was quite beautiful, but cholla is a true hazard for one traveling by horse. It is also commonly called “jumping cactus” because it grows in clumps, little balls of spines, that break off and stick when one brushes up against them. The plants propagate in this way, so the cactus grows in patches, or forests, as the case may be. We passed by several “cholla forests”.

Josh's place
Josh’s place

We made Josh’s place late that afternoon, after a day of 20.8 miles. It was good to release the horses into a corral and feed them hay. Josh and his family were not home for the weekend, but left us the use of the house. He also left us the use of his pickup, so we headed into town immediately after tending the horses, to look for a water filter for my Katadyne filter. No such luck, so I contacted Outfitter’s Supply in Columbia Falls, Montana, from whom I purchased the filter, and they overnight expressed two filters to me.

That evening, Josh’s neighbors, the Bodines, brought us a home-cooked meal of wild turkey. Their 14 year-old boy, Evan, had killed the turkey during the spring hunt. Jessica Bodine cooked it up with dumplings. It was heavenly!

The best part of the evening, though, were the showers at the end of the day! In order to not abuse the hospitality shown by Josh and his wife, Dad and I made our beds in the garage. We really didn’t want to get their house filthy. We availed ourselves, however, of their washer and dryer. It was wonderful to feel clean and have clean clothing again.

Dad on our mustang, Jimbo
Dad on our mustang, Jimbo

On Saturday morning, the Bodines brought us a very tasty breakfast, Al came to put shoes on our mule, Honey. After he arrived, we headed for town to buy shoes and some other supplies. While we were driving around town, Al took us for a drive to sort of scout out a route past Safford. We located a power line that offered a decent route. While we were scouting, another of those little helps from heaven happened. We met Clay Gomez, who owns a ranch through which that power line runs. He owns the only gate in the fence for many miles. He was very cordial and gave us permission to pass through his gate. When we arrived there later that evening, he had left the gate unlocked for us.

Me on Lizzy, with our string
Me on Ranger, with our string

By the time we arrived in Safford, we had traveled about 170 miles.  Our mule, Honey, had been barefoot all that way. She started getting tender on Wednesday, so we had Al put shoes on her. We also re-stocked with the last of the Equidyne feed we had stashed with Josh before we started the trip. Our Katadyne filters arrived via UPS by 9:30am. Amazing! We got ourselves packed up and hit the road about 11:30am.  We followed the power line route, as planned, and made good time. We passed through several fences, but none was locked. We ended up making it about 19.8 miles that afternoon and made camp on the Gila River, just north of a small town named San Jose.

The following day was Sunday, our rest day. We had a nice camp, with water, grass, a place to tie our horses, and a nice spot for our bedding. It was a good day to pass the Sabbath. We needed it, as the mileage we made over the past few days was starting to show on the horses. They needed a rest. So did Clancy. So did we.

Stay tuned for days 16 and 17 later this week, and some trail stories you are sure to enjoy.

 

 

 

 

Days 7-9, Leg 1, Chiricahua Mountains

Sorry it’s been a while since I made my last post about the trip from the US/Mexico border to Eagar, Az, leg 1 of the Mexico-to-Canada trip. This post is about days 7-9 of the pack trip, which took place in the Chiricahua Mountains, mostly just outside the Chiricahua National Monument. Joshua Jensen and Al Smith and their mules were our guides.

When we left off on Day 6, we had made camp on the east side of the top of Fly Peak, it was very cold, and our drinking water froze by the time we hit the sack.

On Friday morning, day 7 of our pack trip, April 17, we got up and went through the usual routine of feeding and brushing horses, breakfast, packing up, loading up, then getting started. Dad and I had taken our horses over to the spring earlier for a good drink before saddling up. While we were there at the spring with our six animals, a couple horses got tangled up and Dad got a good knock from a horse’s head. No harm done. I led my horses out of the way while Dad watered his, then we both led them all the quarter-mile back to camp.

After mounting up, we all started off up the trail. We hadn’t gone but a hundred yards or so, when Dad suddenly realized he didn’t have his glasses on. After going over everything we had done that morning in our minds, we arrived at the conclusion that Dad had lost his glasses on the trail back at the spring, when he got knocked by the fussing horses. I held all the horses while Dad headed down the trail to the spring to see if he could find them. A few silent prayers and about 20 minutes later and Dad was back with his glasses. He had found them on the trail, right where all of our five horses and a mule had passed after drinking at the spring. It was nothing short of miraculous that none of the animals had stepped on them.

Clearing Trail in the Chiricahuas
Hand’s Pass

So, that was a good start for the day. We needed one, because the next couple of miles were pretty tough. We had to cut our way through deadfall after deadfall and make our way around those we couldn’t cut out. After that it got easier. The trail was better and we made good time. At Rustler Park we joined USFS 42D and followed it several miles.  Along that road we sort of let the horses have their head. I was riding Lizzy for the day and she loves to walk out. My GPS said we traveled along at up to 6 miles per hour for a while. Not bad for our little pack string. We turned east on Pinery Road and followed it to the North Fork of the Pinery River.

As we wound our way down Pinery Road, suddenly Dad and I heard a clatter of hooves behind us. We moved to the side just in time to have Al on his mule pass us at a full gallop! As he passed, Al yelled for us not to worry and to just keep on like we were. We wondered what had gotten into him, but just passed it off as a matter of Al’s way of training his mule. About two miles farther on we caught up with Al and learned the truth. The chinstrap on his bridle had broken and he had no control of the mule at all, so he just hung on until the mule decided he’d had enough fun for the day. After that, all was well. Like I’ve said before, one never knew who was in charge at any one time with that pair. Theirs was sort of a cooperative partnership; sometimes one was in charge, sometimes the other. It was a lot of fun to watch them work.

Hand's Pass
Hand’s Pass

At North Fork, we turned north and followed a two-track to Hand’s Pass. The last couple miles up to the pass were steep. It was a tough climb for the horses. Once over the pass we descended into Bloomberg Canyon and followed it down past the mouth to Whitetail Canyon. We camped alongside Indian Creek there in the canyon bottom.

For the day we made 17 miles, which was excellent, considering the first couple miles that day of cutting through the deadfalls. I didn’t get many pictures that day, because all my batteries were exhausted. We had been in thick brush and trees for two days and I hadn’t been able to get enough sunshine to charge anything. My GPS was still at about 50%, so it was ok, but about everything else was dead.  During the latter part of the day I was able to tie a solar panel to the back of my saddle and got a 31% charge in my iphone.

Solar panel tied behind the saddle
Solar panel tied behind the saddle

On Saturday, day 8, after our obligatory morning oblations, we headed into the mouth of Whitetail Canyon (I think). We started up a trail that hadn’t been maintained in many years, but the trail was marked with rock cairns along the way. Josh had ridden up part of the trail during one of his scouting forays before the pack trip and believed we could make it through the canyon to hit another trail that would take us farther north and exit the mountains at the far north end of the Chiricahuas. As it turned out, we made it up the canyon about 2.5 miles before we just couldn’t go any further. The trail had long before petered out and the canyon narrowed to a mere slit in the rock that was simply too dangerous for us to attempt. We had to backtrack and ended up making camp about a half mile or so farther east down Whitetail Canyon than our camp the night before.

I will say this about the day’s experience: We learned a lot about our little string. Bushwhacking our way up that canyon bottom was some of the toughest trail I have ever been on and our horses handled it very well. I was riding Ranger for the day, and found him to be extremely sure-footed and willing. At one point we had Dad and Josh stay with the pack string, while Al and I went on ahead to scout the trail, to see whether the rest could make it. Al’s mule, I’m pretty sure, is part mountain goat, and he would go through places with ease that I would normally have tried to go around. However, Ranger followed right behind the mule, doing everything the mule did. In fact, there were places Al went around that Ranger went right on through. I was quite impressed and proud of Ranger.

Dad and I set up camp for the evening there in the mouth of Whitetail Canyon, not more than a mile from several houses and what would be our exit from the Chiricahuas. Josh and Al moved on down the canyon and were able to get a ride back to their truck and trailer, parked where we met in Rucker Canyon.

Camp at Whitetail Canyon
Camp at Whitetail Canyon

Dad and I enjoyed a nice evening, though we were pretty tired and a bit frustrated at having traveled more than seven miles that day and only making about two miles of actual progress.

The next day was Sunday, so we spent our rest day there in camp in Whitetail Canyon. There was a dry stream bed nearby that had a few small ponds of water in it. We washed laundry in one and I bathed in another. It certainly was refreshing. We had a day of full sun, so I set out my solar panels and was able to get full charges in all our batteries. I took a look at our maps and the topo on my iphone (DeLorme map app) and took a good look at the trail we tried the day before. From what I could tell, we had made it to within 1,000 feet of the trail we were trying to reach. So close and yet so far, as they say. At the trailhead we followed, we had passed a sign that read, “Horse Trail 1 mile.” We must have missed the that trail, if it even exists anymore, because we went in and out of that canyon and never found it.

Washing in a puddle
Washing in a puddle

That afternoon, Josh and Al showed up and brought the gear we had left in their trailer back at Rucker Canyon, including the pack saddle for Daisy (you might recall we had been ponying Daisy bareback the past several days to allow a saddle sore to heal up). They also brought another four sacks of Equidyne for the horses. That was to last us for the next several days until we reached Safford. They left us then and headed back to civilization and their jobs. We sure enjoyed the time we traveled with them and and appreciated their guidance through the mountains. We never would have made it without their help.

 

Cochise Peak, Chiricahua Wilderness Area
Cochise Peak

So, my next post will cover days 10-14, Monday April 20 through Friday April 24 as we crossed the desert from the Chiricahuas to Safford, AZ.

 

 

For those of you who have been asking….

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.

And thank you very much for your help.

Ride to Swinging Bridge, along the San Rafael River, southern Utah

Two weeks ago I was invited along with Jon Tanner and Casey & Erin Johnson to head down to the San Rafael River for a ride. The area we went to is commonly known as Swinging Bridge, named for the old wooden suspension bridge that used to carry the road traffic across the bridge. I thought crossing that bridge might be a good training exercise for my horses. We will have to cross a swinging bridge in the bottom of the Grand Canyon at the end of June on our big pack trip and I sure would hate to get there and have the horses balk.

The route from the Utah Valley (Orem/Provo/Spanish Fork) area is to take US Route 6 to Price, then State Route 10 about 29 miles south to USFS 401 (also known as Green River Cutoff Road), which is a well-maintained dirt road, just north of Castle Dale. If you hit Castle Dale, you missed the turnoff. Turn left (east) on USFS 401 and follow it about 16 miles, to USFS 332 (also known as Buckhorn Draw Road). You will pass two major intersections and USFS 332 on the north side before you get to the 332 on the south side, so just make sure you stay on 401 until you see the sign for USFS 332 on the south side of 401. Take USFS 332 south about 10 or so miles further, until you pass the old bridge over the San Rafael River. There is designated (primitive) camping in that area, but you can go on another 1/2 mile and make a right (west) and go about 3/4 of a mile and you will find another designated camp area with a half-decent corral.

At the equine camp area near Swinging Bridge
At the equine camp area near Swinging Bridge

There is no water at the camp area and no facilities. The river is easy to access and close enough to water horses.

The trailhead leads directly off from there, westward, up the “Little Grand Canyon”. It’s best to go with someone who’s been there before, because in some places the trail has seen insufficient use to be clearly marked and it is not maintained. Some parts of this trail are pretty spooky for horses and riders unused to the rough country, however a decent trail horse can negotiate even the toughest parts safely. I personally do not recommend this trail for people and horses that have not done a bit of back country riding. It is not a “walk in the park,” so to speak. The trail we rode goes up the canyon a ways, then turns off into a side canyon to the south that dead-ends at Virgin Spring. The spring is a pool of clear, cool water larger than your average swimming pool. A nice place for lunch.

Virgin Spring
Virgin Spring

You can also continue to follow the river and main canyon on northwesterly, on up to Fuller Bottoms. I’m told it’s about another eight or so miles. It would be a great ride if you had someone to pick you up on the other end.

Just a note about the trail: There is quicksand in the river bottom and in some other places where water occasionally stands. Be careful and pay attention to your horse. Many of them have a sense about quicksand and can keep you and themselves out of a world of trouble. Stay to areas where other animals cross, such as cows, horses, and mules.

We rode in on Saturday morning with our group along with a group of mule riders. We crossed paths with a number of hikers and backpackers, so be aware and please be courteous. Leashes are not required on dogs. It is an excellent trail on which to have your canine trail companions along.

Reno in his first packing training experience
Reno in his first packing training experience

On this particular trail, I decided to train my new young gelding to pack. He’d never had a packsaddle on, as far as I know, and I’m sure he’d never before encountered hard paniers. I put my newly acquired TrailMax bear-resistant hard paniers on him and dropped a 50# sack of feed in each side. When we started down the trail we were dead last in the group – on purpose. We had us a pretty good little rodeo there for a few minutes as Reno and Ranger got used to the sounds and feel of the hard paniers. After about a quarter mile they began to settle down enough for me to handle them. Reno, scared of the paniers and experiencing packing for the first time, kept wanting to come up alongside me. I was afraid he would end up pushing Ranger and me off the trail and down the mountainside. After a few good whacks on the nose with his lead rope he finally recognized the wisdom in staying back and following behind.

The easy part of the trail
The easy part of the trail

The trail turned out to be an excellent training experience for my pack horse, however, had I known beforehand what we faced, I wouldn’t have packed him or ponied him along. We passed through willow thickets, standing rocks, narrow trails on cliff faces, river crossings, very steep ascents and descents, and even quicksand in the river bottom. By the time we finished our ride for the day, about 16 miles in and out, he had learned about walking around things, rather than trying to bull through everything. One thing is sure, he proved to be a very sound and level-headed horse. Even when he got “pinched” between a couple rocks, after trying to get through a couple times, he stood still while I unbuckled straps on one side, so I could lift the panier over a rock. As I did so, he calmly walked on forward to get through, then allowed me to re-rig the panier.  I was very pleased with him.

Due to the fact that I had one hand on the reins controlling Ranger, and one hand on the lead rope handling Reno, I was unable to get more than just a few photos and no video at all. Sorry. I’ll get some next time.

All-in-all, it was a great ride and one I plan to do again.

The horses we’re taking on the Big Ride…

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.

Me on Lizzy Losee Canyon 2015I’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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Stay tuned for more to come.

Thinking about the big ride…

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
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
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!

Stay Tuned for more!

 

 

Tune-up ride to the Moab, Utah area last month…

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
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:

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:

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.

 

Thirty days until I head south to AZ to start the second leg…

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.

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.

Day Six

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
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
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
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
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
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.

Day Seven coming up in a few days.

 

 

 

Picked up a new horse…

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.

IMG_1938The 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.

IMG_1937Well, 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
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.

IMG_1936I 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.