Pete got out of the tent first this morning, hobbled the horses who all ran in the direction of higher grounds and presumably better forage. I followed, and hung with them while Pete made pancakes. We’re low on food. It wouldn’t be this way if we’d made it to Tincup, where we were to pick up our mail drop.

Today we traveled on what I called “The road that makes no sense.” Dirt. Two-track; it goes up and over rolling hills. There were no switchbacks, road cuts, or curves. It was a day of up and downs, interspersed with small, flat plateaus upon which we rested the horses. For most of the day we could see where we’d be in the next hour.

I’d put pads in the front part of Raudi’s saddle pad. Big mistake—she had a hard time going downhill. Her front shoes are also now well-worn. Siggi and Signy’s shoes are not as worn. Incredible views of distant mountains. Rocky outcroppings of all kinds and shapes, and we came to a field of daisies—a beautiful sight.

After lunch we continued climbing, and at one point we were followed by a Land Cruiser from Arkansas. We finally came to a campground near a major highway. We tied up the horses and went to check it out. The sites were small and there was no grass on hand. But if we continued, we’d have to ride alongside the highway. I said no. We’d first have to get the horses through the parking area, which was being used by river rafters. The highway was also heavily trafficked. And I couldn’t see our getting them across the narrow bridge.

The road that makes no sense

The road that makes no sense

We returned to the horses and encountered a group of riders coming off the trail. Pete talked with the guide, and was told that there was a safer, alternative route to our immediate destination, which was Spring Creek Road about a mile down the highway. We were to follow the group along this trail, but I wasn’t able to get my act together as quickly as Pete. He got on Siggi. I who had Rainbow on lead, untied Raudi, who upon seeing the other horses began bouncing around like a ping pong ball. Rainbow then leapt to the side, and wrapped her rope around Signy’s legs. The other riders, perhaps sensing that we didn’t have our act together, rode off.

The short trail, though far safer than the road, was difficult—we wound our way around boulders and focused on keeping the horses from going over the steep drop-off. We finally came to the highway crossing, and continued up Spring Creek Road, which, although residential, was relatively untrafficked. We stopped and talked with the guys from Arkansas. They were on a fishing trip, but they hadn’t had much luck. Campsites were scattered along the road’s edge. We found one with some grass, and hobbled the horses. Pete and I then took turns making sure that they didn’t wander into the road.

Next: Trip Dispatch #37: Best Laid Plans