Notes: WOOWHOO! Finally spotted the illusive javelina. Creepy looking little critters. Horse wouldn't stand still well enough to get a picture. Can't say as I blame him.
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| Home for the winter |
Notes: The ACMSA "Do you want to build a snowman" shoot in New River was set for Sunday. Cindy, Beckman's and I, arrived Saturday early afternoon to reserve pens and a spot to camp; both in short supply at the Larkyn Arena.
Cindy and I arrived before Beckman's. The parking lot was full of rigs for the Western and English horse show underway. We parked on the road, saddled and went for a short trail ride until a spot opened up.
New River is a beautiful area with lovely homes. One stucco covered home with a semi-circle architecture caught our eye. More eye-catching, if not out of place, was a bright white, wooden framed church/school house style home with a steep pitched black roof. It stood stark against the horizon and seemed more at place in the timber than the desert. I imagine the people living inside to be non-conformist. I can relate.
The trail was super rocky. Jack and Cowboy picked their way through large, healthy saguaro. The vegetation seemed more dense and vigorous than some areas. Very pretty area.
We made it back to the trailers about the time Beckman's arrived. We settled the horses and drove in to The Roadrunner for dinner. Cool place.
Cindy walked away with a class win and I took 2nd place - both full classes. Not bad
Notes: It must have been close to 80 degrees. Gorgeous day for a ride. It's been a while since I've been able to take Jack out on our own and just ride. It felt good not needing to pony. We rode up to the power line, crossed the road and up a draw/wash with cacti, Palo Verde trees and mesquite. I could have stayed out all night - except it gets really cold at night in the desert and I was hungry.
Notes: Cindy and I rode behind their place towards the power line for a short ride. Jack was a bit lethargic...totally out of the norm for him. I attribute it to the heat (lower 70's) and he hasn't lost any of his Idaho wholly mammoth coat. Little Jimmy Dicken's made up for it with his usual enthusiasm. Cindy would check him up and shout: "Whoa....when I say whoa, I mean WHOA!" She didn't clock him over the head with her rifle or anything, but she made a great impersonation of Yosemite Sam! It cracked me up and now I can't get it out of my head. "Whoa mule! When I say WHOA, I MEAN WHOA!!"
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| Riding into Old Tombstone from Alan St. |
Notes: One check off my bucket list! I wasn't able to ride into Tombstone last year...at least not legal like and/or as far as anybody can prove! This year we were able to ride in with the shooters who came for the Tombstone Ghost Riders Helldarado shoot at the Tombstone Livery.
I was worried my horses wouldn't handle the stage coaches going in and out of the streets of old Tombstone. They were a little freaked out, but not bad. Jack mostly didn't like it when they come up behind him. They did a lot better than I hoped! Dave, Cindy, Blake and I stopped in at the Crystal Palace for lunch and a prickly pear margarita before heading back to the livery. Me and Blake left before some of the others so we could let the horses run for a bit. I think my favorite thing about AZ is running Jack through the sandy washes. Something exhilarating about it.
Well...my laundry is done. I managed to get three trail logs posted before my quarters ran out. Sweet!
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| Jack and J waiting for us to get out of the bar. |
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| Tombstone Livery |
Notes: We made it to the livery Tuesday afternoon. Rode on over to the Tombstone Monument Guest Ranch (AKA Margaritaville) for a prickly pear margarita!
Having a hard time finding the time to blog or log trails miles. Just got back from the Phoenix airport where I kicked Blake out at the curb and sped away. Literally. That place is a madhouse. Currently sitting at the West Plaza Laundry washing close and blogging in between cycles! Good hell...
Notes: One of those gloomy days and didn't feel all that great so I climbed in the saddle to get some fresh air. Felt WAY better. I had planned to ride to the big trestle but by the time I got the mud off my horses there was only time to ride in a few miles if I wanted to get back before dark. I don't mind riding in the dark but it's kind of cold and is supposed to snow. I wasn't dressed for snow. Plus I'm a whimp.
Notes: A full weekend of shooting and trail riding in the desert. Doesn't get much better. After spending the weekend at Crandal's for a Halloween party and Spook Shoot, I spent an extra night so I could meet Rob at Wilson Creek. Rob's friends, Terry and John, were a little late in arriving so Rob and I struck out on our own. Terry and John's horses outwalk ours anyway so it worked out well. We rode to Hard Trigger canyon and stopped to eat our lunches (that Rob generously provided since I didn't have much in the way of food on me).
We saw a herd of 8 deer and a creepy amount of ravens. Not sure what was up with the ravens...maybe they were left over from Halloween?
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| Rob and Tucker |
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| (L-R) Cindy - Marianne - Teri - Bev - Me |
Notes: Crandal's put on a Halloween party/spook shoot at their place in Murphy. I took up my LQ and ended up staying two nights. We had a team shoot Saturday. The format was more like the team ropers use. You draw a partner and combine your two times. The stages were bracketed - so the winners of the match run against the winning team of the second bracket until you have two teams left. We needed four teams, so Bev and I got put on the same team twice. We ended up winning both 1st. and 2nd. place. Pretty sweet!
Sunday morning, Patty and I rode in the desert behind Crandal's. That afternoon, I swapped horses and Cindy and I rode. Rob A. had emailed earlier that he and some friends would be riding out Wilson Creek/Hard Trigger on Monday. It's only 20 miles from Crandal's, so I spent another night with plans to ride Monday as well.
Fabulous Halloween party with fabulous folks.
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| 1st place winners: Rosie the Riveter and Jackie Sparrow! |
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| Modern day "wagon ruts" |
Notes: It's late afternoon and I know I'm headed east towards Boise...yet the sun is shining smack on my face. There is something about this area that's kitty-wampus in the directional sense - especially for the directionally challenged such as myself. This has happened before. Several years ago, my friend, Sharon T, and I - got turned around in the same area. Thirty miles later we find ourselves huddled around a fire under the freeway waiting for my neighbor and Ralph to rescue us. That little ordeal saw us pulling into home after midnight. I wrote a little piece on the adventure: Click on Horses and Hobos.
I couldn't afford to get turned around this trip. My neighbor wasn't around to rescue me and it would be dark in a few hours. I would ride out for no more than 1.5 hours and if I didn't know exactly where I was, I'd turn back the way I came. The map on my GPS indicated the trail I was on would run into "Love's Reservoir Rd" - which loops around and hooks back up with the trail leading back to where I park. I went through one wire gate and checked my GPS - still on the correct path. Once on Loves Res. Road - I rode another half a mile to see if anything looked familiar. It didn't. Everything in me knows it was the right way back to the trailers but I didn't know how far or how many gates/obstacles might be between. I was 10 minutes past my allotted time to make a definitive decisions. I turned back. Even if I hadn't forgotten my pistol - it felt like the right thing to do. A couple of the contacts on my In-Reach satellite location device monitor it faithfully. If I didn't hit the Check in O.K button before dark, Janine would be out looking for me!
I rode back to the wire gate and swapped horses. Those two horses could not be more different. Both would have gotten me home, but in an entirely different manner! They both know the way home. Jack follows the "Man from Snowy River" approach. The shortest distance between two points is a straight line." Even if that line means diving straight off a ridge littered with badger holes and bottomless tumbleweed covered pits. I appreciate that he is willing to go just about anywhere I point him but sometimes a little finesse is prudent. That's where J'Lo comes in. She can be more warry and pick her way through however she feels is safest. It takes her longer to get there and the ride is seldom as adventurous.
We made it back to the trailer the same time as a crew working on the gas pipeline was calling it a day. The first service truck through opened the gate for us and the others waved us on and shut it behind us. They seemed to be has happy to be out on the old Oregon Trail working as I was riding. I always enjoy riding this part of the country. I can picture the caravans of covered wagons rumbling through the sage covered rolling hills..it must have seemed like an endless sea of sand and sage as they searched for sparse springs hidden here and there. In many ways, I think folks were a lot tougher back then.
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| I often find cool stuff when I'm out and about. Anybody lose an 11mm? |
Notes: Supposed to be the last day in the 70°'s for the year. I put in at Presley and rode toward town...which I don't do very often. There aren't as many gopher/badger holes going that direction, so that's something.
Fall has definitely arrived. Pretty day.
Notes: Couldn't have asked for a nicer fall day. I met Patty and Cindy at the head of Hermit Gulch. We rode the SC canyon - crossing Succor Creek numerous times. Cindy's new little cutting horse wasn't too sure about crossing the creek at first but by the end of the ride, "Little Jimmy" was taking the lead and crossing like a champ. My seahorse Jack just wanted to find a hole deep enough to swim but I managed to keep all but one foot dry this time.
Notes: A quick ride just behind my place. We got permission to ride back here a few years ago but I hesitate to ride on private property. The road might not be private, though. A pickup with an older couple passed us...they just waved and smiled so either they were the landowners or fellow trespassers. Either way, they didn't throw us out. We rode to the pond and back - a few sprinkles but nothing to write home about.
Notes: I practiced off J'Lo in the morning and hauled Jack to the WRT after a quick stop at Bi-Mart for dog food and primers. I see primers are hard to come by again. Go figure. :(
October is my favorite month. So far it has not disappointed. Beautiful weather and the trail was teeming with water foul, game birds and coyote. I also ran into the guy who takes care of 85 miles of the trail. He was spraying for leafy spurge. I asked him about the trestle bridge that was washed out past Council. He said they are going to have it replaced, but had to raise 160K dollars. It's a big project that has to be engineered. Between donations, fund raisers and grants...it sounds like they have the money.
It was nice not having to pony. I let Jack run on the stretches where the ground isn't too gravely or littered with badger holes. He clocked out at a nice 24.9 MPH...which apparently is just under the maximum speed required to catch a pheasant in your teeth. We're buzzing along, minding our own business, when a flock of pheasant blow up in front of us. One of them dang near whacked me in the face. 1/10th mph faster and I'd have been picking feathers out of my grill! As it was, all I felt was a few tail feathers brush my cheek. It's a good thing, too...I don't have my bird stamp yet! Jack never broke stride.
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| Smokey Moonrise |
Notes: I've been trying to get Jack back to Kitty's for a refresher since August. One thing after the other kept getting in the way. Finally, I picked a weekend that worked for Kitty and cancelled all other plans. Karen bagged getting firewood for the weekend and joined me on my way west.
We each took both our horses. Kitty worked with Karen's horse, Jane, earlier in the year. We focused on Jack and Jane in the shooting arena and took our usual shooting horses trail riding on our down time. I rode J'Lo - Karen rode Annie.
I mostly wanted to work on controlled speed. Jack did great! My favorite part was the roll back's along the fence. You start out at a trot - then pick up a nice lope and gradually increase speed as the rollbacks smooth out. Toward the end, I'm grabbing the horn and doing my best to stay centered. After a dozen or so of those at mock-1 ...I'm sucking air and feeling a bit disoriented. You would think I was doing the running carrying Jack on my back instead of the other way around. "Inside leg...inside rein...release inside leg...now outside leg...outside rein...put your left foot in, put your left out and shake it all about...that's what's its all about"
Sunday morning we rode J'Lo and Annie on BLM behind Lauman's ranch. We visited the Lone Pine and went in search of the pond...which I could not find for some reason. I think we made a big loop all the way around it. Pond or not, it was a nice little ride before the afternoon boot camp.
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| Karen and Annie (The Lone Pine) |
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| Blue Sky! Marianne, Cindy and Bev |
Notes: Great weekend. Bev organized an overnight getaway for a few of her girl friends. I originally had plans to head to Jarbidge/Pole Creek and visit friends Lee and Susan for a few days before heading over to Montana and then home. My pickup had other plans. Fortunately, it ended up being a separated tire, as opposed to a bent axel or f'd up front end. Unfortunately...that's 1300 bucks in new tires. I'll be staying close to home for awhile. So, when Bev messaged she wanted to do something this weekend - I jumped on it.
We agreed on the Succor Creek area. I went out early Thursday to scope out what was available and save a spot. I was able to get close to my favorite camping spot and set up camp. Cell service is spotty out there. I usually hike to a high point to get reception. It wasn't going quite fast enough for me so I broke out the Inreach Mini and sent a Sat. message to Bev telling her I was 11.8 miles from the start of the gravel road.
The place is pretty much a mess. Toilet paper and poop scattered from one end to the next. I suppose a trash pickup is in order but it would have to wait for another time. I wasn't in the mood to pick up other peoples shit this time.
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| Trying to get high enough for cell service. All the smoke does not help. |
I didn't feel the spot I was camped was ideal for more rigs. I woke up Friday morning and moved camp upstream 100 yards so the girls could see my rig from the road. The ground was less rocky as well.
Cindy was the first to arrive, followed shortly by Bev and Marianne. After the girls set up their camps, we saddled up. I never know quite where to take people. One person's ideal trail can be another's path to Hell. Bev rode a young horse that was known to buck on occasion....but Bev can ride pretty much anything, so I wasn't too concerned about that. Cindy and Marianne are both good riders on good horses. Confident everyone would be able handle a certain amount of technical terrain, we headed out across Succor Creek, bushwhacking the first 200 yards through willows and thick underbrush. I'd been in this general location with Lee a couple times, however, this route was just a little different.
We weren't long into the ride when we heard a coyote yapping and carrying on. A bunch of cows bedded down and grazed all round the coyotes. We could see two of them running around in the distance. I've never heard a coyote sound exactly like this or make so much noise in the middle of the day. It sounded as if it were in distress. Had we not seen them running around - we could have assumed it was caught in a trap. The cows didn't seem to notice. We yelled a couple times before they dashed behind trees and disappeared. We have no idea what was up...weird.
We looped around by the old Davis ranch - now "Lonesome Willow" and veered back toward Succor Creek Rd. toward camp.
A potluck style dinner complete with Bev's homemade apple pie ended the evening. The wind began to pick up and with it hopes of alleviating the thick smoke that's hung around the last couple of weeks.
Morning came with the arrival of the first blue sky we've seen in two weeks! Oh yeah! We tore down camp, loaded the horses and drove upstream to Succor Creek State Park proper. The girls had never been there. A lot has changed in the short time since I've been there. The place just outside the park where you could pull big rigs is now fenced off. We managed to squeeze in, unload and get the heck out of dodge before anybody told us we couldn't.
I took us across the bridge and on top where I'd placed a Geocache 4 years ago. Marianne logged the cache, took a packet of kleenex and left a COVID proper bottle of hand sanitizer. Pretty much the only time we thought about COVID and the chaotic mess of a world we find ourselves living in. The desert has a way of soothing your soul and pushing aside that which threatens to weigh it down with toxicity.
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| Bev the ride organizer, Ruger and Cinch |
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| No blue sky to be seen through the smoke. :( |
Notes: The fires in the PNW and above Cambridge have socked us in heavily with smoke. It's so bad you can taste it. It's not good for humans or animals so we took it pretty easy and went for a short ride. Especially since half the time is spent bush-whacking back and forth across Grouse Creek because I can never find the damn easy crossing going in. Easy to find coming out...going in, not so much. Stopped at Judy's for lunch...which is now Mexican food and underwent a name change of Mi Amigo's.
