100 miles

I don't remember any detail of the road west of the crossing at Sheep Creek. I don't recall the traffic. I can't rember the turnoff to Sand Creek Pass. I could only feel my trembling hands on the reins and the quick and determined gait of Sparrow underneath me. It was the first day I would ride alone. Each day before we had a riding partner. First it was Keith and then Rita and then Pat. Pat Burge and her horse Moon travelled with us for two days and two nights guiding us through the Cherokee Park area. She knew the shortcuts off the road and where the gates were. She knew those hills as well as the sky knew the mountain peaks. I think the map I carried was the first one she had glanced at and still she didn't bother refrencing it to decide which way was the right way of course, she just knew. And then Tuesday, after memorial day she had to turn back. We decided on an area that we would meet again in two days to check in and resupply. I would tie a bandana to a sign and leave a rock karin. Seemingly it would be a great first solo trial for me and the horses. Two nights I camped alone. I did not see a single person. Thursday morning I left a note duck taped to a road sign with Pat's name on it in hopes that she would be able to find me at forest road 336. In the ditch below the sign I saw a crumpled and dust covered blue something. It was a stuffed animal abandoned on the road, whisked away from the roof of a car that had once veered around the bend. So I picked it up shook it off and tied it with leather string to the sign hoping my note would grab more attention. In my next camp deep in the beetle infested pines I waited for my friends. I ate lentils that night that I tried in earnest to make taste good with the few spices I carry. I added dandelion leaves as a vegetable. The only visitor I had in camp was a female moose. Dick and Pat never did find me. Although I wished I had seen my new friends again I realized that this was my journey now. I realized that what I would need I would find on my way. I realized that I was out...in the wild...with Sparrow and Taceo, my mustang team that would always know by sight and by smell the way back, if ever I needed to turn around. It felt like I sank under water then, like I surrendered to the wildness of a dream. It began the first opportuniy to see Sparrow and Taceo for what they were like as my family members. Sparrow became quite the camp pest. I had to chase her out with sticks and wave books in her face to get her to leave. She snatched my fuel can breaking the pump valve at one point and after that it wasn't cute anymore. She generally tries something about five times before she decides to change her mind about it. And Taceo needs to try something about five times in five different scenarios before he "gets it". After about five days in to the trip Sparrow had decided that "home" is not worth getting into a fierce argument over. Taceo now, on the other hand isn't quite sure why we need to walk forward and out. He'd be just plum happy to stand next to a highway munching on prairie grasses. So while I am waiting for Sparrow to relax I am hoping Taceo will find the drive. If I want to really get somewhere I ride Sparrow but if I want to enjoy the scenery I ride Taceo. It's like having a town car and a country car. After our last camp on forest road 336 we continued Westward on 80C to highway 103. I was told that the Laramie River Dude Ranch would be a good place to ride in and spend a night, put the horses up and take a much needed shower. But as the manager said, they were too busy preparing for guests and so after 15 miles of riding I rode on to the camp ground two miles north in search of a flat and welcoming rectangle of earth on which to pitch a tent. I was followed by a dog who appeared every hundred feet or so out from a bramble of sage brush while in pursuit of rabbits. If only that pup knew what joy, what humor and delight it brought me as I rode my last two miles of the day with it as it darted in and out of sage brush nearly dragging it's parched tongue along behind it. I had already begun to think about how I would feed my new friend when up came a Ford with about 4 or 5 wranglin' lookin kids in the the back who hopped out and called to the dog until it came and walked back south with empty garbage bags clutched in their hands and a brown and white dog who I had hoped would be my new friend at their heels. At this point I declared to the rolling clouds that I was ready to meet some friends. I wanted more than I had ever before to "be somewhere" and be with people. I wanted a sense of place even if it was just a camp fire. Yes, I needed a shower and some phone service but really all that was truly necessary was a little bit of connection. And it wasn't but a couple hours later when I had unsaddled the horses and set up my tent that I had found my new community in the campground at Honholz lakes. I ate pork chops that night and listened to the eldest of a three generation fishing trio of fathers and sons tell me his stories of hunting and fishing pastimes. They had ice and therefore cold coca cola's, which I had been dreaming of for days. I am pretty sure I drank my first one down in less than two gulps. The next evening I sat at a campfire with four guys who were about my age who were on a fishing getaway/ bachelor party. They were also so welcoming and so kind even though they too were on a guys trip out. Before they left the next morning they delivered to me what food they had not eaten and I rode out of that camp stocked with apples, packets of tuna fish, dried cherries, and almonds. That day, it was a Sunday, 11 days after I had left home I rode on to Woods Landing where I am now. Where I am just now packing up my gear to ride to lake Owen this afternoon. I've been here three days. I could stay three more just to enjoy he people and cabin #5 some more. But the nature of this trip is to move on, to ramble on, to ride west and so I will along with Brad, my new, MacBook owning and lending cowboy friend and his horse Dakota. And I better make good time because Marvin, Ana, and Larry have said they'll be waiting with fishing poles a camp fire and a can of sardines that will knock my boots off.
Until the next wifi opportunity adieu my friends! With so much love and wishes for a happy summer on whichever trail you ride!

Location:Woods Landing Wy