In which I describe further adventures in the backcountry, part 3
Part Three: A few minor mishaps
Years ago I attended an endurance ride, and on the way home I stopped for a break and called my mom.
"How did your ride go?" she asked me.
"Oh, it was good," said I.
Then there was a long pause.
"That's all? No flat tires? No missing shoes? No falling off of bridges or getting lost? No sunburn or lightning strikes or bee stings?"
I guess I hadn't realized how common adventures are when travelling with horses, until I finally took a trip and didn't have any adventures at all. In fact, that trip was so routine that the only thing I remember about it is my mom's astonishment that nothing went wrong.
(Hmmm. That might be wisdom there....)
I'm happy to report that Sky and Cricket and Fiddle and I had a only few of the small type of adventures, not the "nasty disturbing uncomfortable things" loathed by Bilbo Baggins and other sensible hobbits.
The second day in the high country contained two small adventures, which I will relate:
In the mountains, the sky becomes bright early, but the sun itself appears quite late in the morning. Thus, our mornings in camp were very cold, bundled-up affairs. As soon as the sun rose above the horizon, we started dropping hats and jackets.
Our first task each morning was to take the horses down to the lake to graze.
I never have to encourage Fiddle to eat, but Cricket is more reluctant...except first thing in the morning.
Breakfast is a high priority for everyone in the mornings! I would usually dump some peanuts into a pocket so I could snack while holding onto lead ropes.
After about 20 minutes of shivering and waiting for the sun to finish rising, Sky handed me her lead rope and went up the hill to heat water for a cup of coffee.
More than 30 minutes later, she hadn't brought me a hot cup, nor hollered for me to come up and get one, and I was still chilled. Trailed by the no-longer-ravenous horses, I walked up the trail to camp, and found Sky...
...cussing.
I've never had a lot of success with campstoves, unless you measure "success" by the high number of cuss words required to get them to light and stay lit in the high country. This particular campstove had been a faithful part of Sky's equipment for more than 20 years...but the fuel was old and --apparently-- stale. It did not want to light. I envisioned spending our entire vacation parked by the camp fire, waiting for water to boil....
Once the sun came all the way up, the fuel seemed to gather encouragement and the stove agreed to stay lit, and we had our hot mugs. The stove proved to be the most recalcitrent piece of equipment on the journey--which is not a proud title. However, when it worked, it really worked, so we boiled up a bunch of water and heated up some breakfast and decided to go on with our day.
We left the horses in camp and explored Pika Peak and its adjacent valley.
We saw (and exchanged squeek-greetings with) several pikas who were busily engaged in Important Pika Business like leaping over rocks, throwing dirt around, and squeaking at other pikas. We also saw a chipmunk--perhaps a junior member of the Important Pika Business Association?--doing the same kind of leaping, throwing and squeaking.
We also saw several birds of prey watching the IPB very closely....but no rodent babies were orphaned that morning, at least not while we were watching.
After exploring a bit, we saddled up the horses to stroll around Linton Meadows, a beautiful grassy area surrounded by streams and mountains. The ride wasn't strenuous, as our goal was relaxation.
Have you noticed a distinct lack of adventures thus far? Well, hold on. One is coming up in just a minute, I promise.
After riding for an hour or two, we returned to Linton, unsaddled the horses and hobbled them so that they could graze for a while on the beautiful grass.
As you can see, Fiddle wanted to eat and eat and eat. Cricket, however, had other ideas.
When a group of packers came through, Sky jumped up from her relaxed pose and took a video.
and I jumped up and took a picture of Sky....
And nobody was watching Cricket.
If you have ominous music playing in your head, you are definitely in the right part of the narration.
ARGH. She didn't get far (remember, I told you that today was just minor mishaps) but it was certainly scary for a few minutes. Sky finally cornered her and put a leadrope on her and led her--unrepentant creature!--back to our group.
So much for relaxation! We un-hobbled and re-saddled the horses, and took them back to camp.
Then, we thought we should take a break from excitement. Apparently, Cricket wasn't quite done, (cue more ominous music, please) and because it was a small adventure, I don't have pictures because I was too busy to take them.
While the horses were in camp, I like to hobble AND tie Fiddle, because she paws the ground to make me pay attention to her. This behavior is annoying, it doesn't work, but she doesn't give up--and since the wilderness is delicate, I like to make this bad behavior more difficult. When she's hobbled, Fee gives up immediately and takes a nap instead. Good, right?
Except Cricket wasn't ready to be good yet.
She was bored! She wanted to GO-GO-GO, not stand around relaxing! She jumped up and put her hobbled front feet over the leadrope. And then, not very gracefully, she fell over on her side, having hogtied and thrown herself as prettily as any cowboy would do to a rambunctious steer.
Fortunately, we were right there to help her.
Sky grabbed the leadrope and released Cricket's head. I hesitated to get near Cricket's tangled up feet, but she was holding VERY still and Fiddle's ears were telling me clearly "HELP HER!" so I ran around, grabbed a foot and unbuckled the hobble and then untangled the rope, and then unbuckled the other foot. Whew.
She was fine, the little dingbat. And she was much quieter for the remainder of the afternoon, too. Relaxed, even.
Sigh.
We went swimming in the heat of the day, accompanied by about a billion polliwogs.
No seriously. About a billion polliwogs.
Years ago I attended an endurance ride, and on the way home I stopped for a break and called my mom.
"How did your ride go?" she asked me.
"Oh, it was good," said I.
Then there was a long pause.
"That's all? No flat tires? No missing shoes? No falling off of bridges or getting lost? No sunburn or lightning strikes or bee stings?"
I guess I hadn't realized how common adventures are when travelling with horses, until I finally took a trip and didn't have any adventures at all. In fact, that trip was so routine that the only thing I remember about it is my mom's astonishment that nothing went wrong.
(Hmmm. That might be wisdom there....)
I'm happy to report that Sky and Cricket and Fiddle and I had a only few of the small type of adventures, not the "nasty disturbing uncomfortable things" loathed by Bilbo Baggins and other sensible hobbits.
The second day in the high country contained two small adventures, which I will relate:
In the mountains, the sky becomes bright early, but the sun itself appears quite late in the morning. Thus, our mornings in camp were very cold, bundled-up affairs. As soon as the sun rose above the horizon, we started dropping hats and jackets.
Our first task each morning was to take the horses down to the lake to graze.
I never have to encourage Fiddle to eat, but Cricket is more reluctant...except first thing in the morning.Breakfast is a high priority for everyone in the mornings! I would usually dump some peanuts into a pocket so I could snack while holding onto lead ropes.
After about 20 minutes of shivering and waiting for the sun to finish rising, Sky handed me her lead rope and went up the hill to heat water for a cup of coffee.
More than 30 minutes later, she hadn't brought me a hot cup, nor hollered for me to come up and get one, and I was still chilled. Trailed by the no-longer-ravenous horses, I walked up the trail to camp, and found Sky...
...cussing.
I've never had a lot of success with campstoves, unless you measure "success" by the high number of cuss words required to get them to light and stay lit in the high country. This particular campstove had been a faithful part of Sky's equipment for more than 20 years...but the fuel was old and --apparently-- stale. It did not want to light. I envisioned spending our entire vacation parked by the camp fire, waiting for water to boil....
Once the sun came all the way up, the fuel seemed to gather encouragement and the stove agreed to stay lit, and we had our hot mugs. The stove proved to be the most recalcitrent piece of equipment on the journey--which is not a proud title. However, when it worked, it really worked, so we boiled up a bunch of water and heated up some breakfast and decided to go on with our day.
We left the horses in camp and explored Pika Peak and its adjacent valley.
We saw (and exchanged squeek-greetings with) several pikas who were busily engaged in Important Pika Business like leaping over rocks, throwing dirt around, and squeaking at other pikas. We also saw a chipmunk--perhaps a junior member of the Important Pika Business Association?--doing the same kind of leaping, throwing and squeaking.
We also saw several birds of prey watching the IPB very closely....but no rodent babies were orphaned that morning, at least not while we were watching.
After exploring a bit, we saddled up the horses to stroll around Linton Meadows, a beautiful grassy area surrounded by streams and mountains. The ride wasn't strenuous, as our goal was relaxation.
Have you noticed a distinct lack of adventures thus far? Well, hold on. One is coming up in just a minute, I promise.
After riding for an hour or two, we returned to Linton, unsaddled the horses and hobbled them so that they could graze for a while on the beautiful grass.
As you can see, Fiddle wanted to eat and eat and eat. Cricket, however, had other ideas.
When a group of packers came through, Sky jumped up from her relaxed pose and took a video.
and I jumped up and took a picture of Sky....
And nobody was watching Cricket.
If you have ominous music playing in your head, you are definitely in the right part of the narration.
Cricket decided that those packers were the Best Looking Horses she had ever seen! She struck a pose (mare owners will understand what I mean by this), and then took off "hobble-cantering" to try to head off the packer's horses. Of course, she went the wrong direction, but she was lovesick enough to not care.
ARGH. She didn't get far (remember, I told you that today was just minor mishaps) but it was certainly scary for a few minutes. Sky finally cornered her and put a leadrope on her and led her--unrepentant creature!--back to our group.
So much for relaxation! We un-hobbled and re-saddled the horses, and took them back to camp.
Then, we thought we should take a break from excitement. Apparently, Cricket wasn't quite done, (cue more ominous music, please) and because it was a small adventure, I don't have pictures because I was too busy to take them.
While the horses were in camp, I like to hobble AND tie Fiddle, because she paws the ground to make me pay attention to her. This behavior is annoying, it doesn't work, but she doesn't give up--and since the wilderness is delicate, I like to make this bad behavior more difficult. When she's hobbled, Fee gives up immediately and takes a nap instead. Good, right?
Except Cricket wasn't ready to be good yet.
She was bored! She wanted to GO-GO-GO, not stand around relaxing! She jumped up and put her hobbled front feet over the leadrope. And then, not very gracefully, she fell over on her side, having hogtied and thrown herself as prettily as any cowboy would do to a rambunctious steer.
Fortunately, we were right there to help her.
Sky grabbed the leadrope and released Cricket's head. I hesitated to get near Cricket's tangled up feet, but she was holding VERY still and Fiddle's ears were telling me clearly "HELP HER!" so I ran around, grabbed a foot and unbuckled the hobble and then untangled the rope, and then unbuckled the other foot. Whew.
She was fine, the little dingbat. And she was much quieter for the remainder of the afternoon, too. Relaxed, even.
Sigh.
We went swimming in the heat of the day, accompanied by about a billion polliwogs.
No seriously. About a billion polliwogs.
There were frogs, too. I'll post those pictures tomorrow.
After swimming, it was starting to come down dark, so we grazed the horses at the lake again (on leadropes this time!) and then built a fire.
The campstove worked for a while so we could use it to make dinner, but who wants to sit around a campstove to tell stories?
Smokey the Bear would be proud. At bedtime, we doused the fire and then went to sleep.
Life is good.
It is so beautiful there, with the mountains, green grass and water!!
ReplyDeleteAt least your mishaps weren't too bad. Actually it is a good thing you got the stove working!
Fritzy is just like Fiddle. She paws up a storm. At times I have to resort to hobbling her, just when she is tied at the hitching post!!
Aarene, there is a great place on the PCT called, "meandering meadows"
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