From the Hoof

In my travels I am often asked: “How much gear do you carry, How do you carry it.?”

When you venture into the wilderness for overnight or long distant treks, you need a reliable pack-horse or mule. Here are proven techniques to train your pack animal.

The equine that make our wilderness camps possible, that faithfully carry our gear through groves of yellowed Aspens, that serve as partners in our backcountry endeavors, these wonderful animals aren’t second-class citizens.

In American history, the pack-horse (or mule) is second only to the draft horse in importance. Wherever wheels couldn’t go, pack animals carried the cargo that made settlement possible.

Now, we’ve come full circle as a nation, mandating that many of our most beautiful tracts of backcountry stay free of internal combustion engines and other machinery to maintain their identity as wilderness. Again, the pack animals have resumed their status as the partners that make it all possible. Packing experience is considered one of the best preamble to riding. The feel of breeching under the tail, the pressure of panniers against the sides, the sounds that invariably emanate from even well-packed loads, the startle of a pack scraping a tree–all these are the very best sort of trail desensitization.

The already-trained saddle horse can also profit, and training him/her to pack has security benefits. Should a pack animal become injured on a backcountry trip, your mount may have to be pressed into pack duty, perhaps with you leading it home. Would it be prepared to do that?

The New Recruit

Lets start with the untrained animal. Your planning a trip and you need a pack-horse (or mule). The animal is halter broke and gentle enough to be curried. It allows its feet to be picked up, but perhaps hasn’t been shod. Since a backcountry trip will require restraint and, in our rock chiseled wilderness, shoeing, as well, we’d just as well get some preliminaries out-of-the-way. So, before introduction to the pack-saddle, I’ll work with the animals feet.

In a small round pen, I’ll lead the animal by each foot with a hobble half and a soft nylon rope. Then I’ll hobble it in a safe place on a soft surface, while I sit and watch with coffee in hand. (Some of the best training can be accomplished by the animal itself–under supervision of course.) Eventually, we’ll progress to picketing with a single hobble half attached to one front pastern. Saddling will come only after much rubbing with the blanket, much grooming, much gentle small talk with an animal that needs to gain your trust.

All of this is identical to the approach I’d be using for training the animal under saddle. But if there’s a time factor, there’s nothing wrong leaving out such matters as bitting and ground driving to a later time. Packing can be its boot camp. The rest can come later.

To be a good citizen in camp and on the trail while carrying a load, your future pack animal must be secure in three ways:

1) It must understand being ponied quietly and respectfully behind another animal, without attempting to overrun its leader or to pull back.

2) It must accept carrying a load that might be bulky or noisy, that will scrape against trees, and it must do so with a pack-saddle that’s secured by cinch, breastcollar, and breeching.

3) It must understand restraint in camp–hobbling, picketing and high-lining.

Practice Ponying

To teach your recruit to pony properly, you need a safe, steady, and tolerant horse with which to lead him. If it’s never led another animal before, this IS the time to teach it. Will it tolerate a lead rope under its tail? It will happen, so its best to teach it now. Riding with a crupper can help, as  can deliberately placing a soft rope under its tail and gently sawing it back and forth. Its, essential, too, that your pony will neck rein, for one of your hands will be occupied with the pack animal’s lead rope. Ideally, you’ll also have taught this horse to tolerate a lariat rope dragged along the ground, perhaps even with a weight, such as a small tire, attached.

Here’s Why: There will be times when leading pack animals that you’ll wish to take a single dally (wrap) around the saddle horn to nudge an animal along, so your pony horse must understand the feel of pulling from the saddle horn. Dally carefully, and observe the old dictate to keep your thumb up in the air(upward) so it wont become entangled in the rope. Your pony horse should also tolerate facing the rope and having it passed over it ears to its other side.  Assuming your pony horse is safe, practice first by leading your pack-animal-to-be-safe, enclosed area with out a saddle. Lead it on both sides of your pony horse, switching your reins to your other hand as necessary. NEVER tie the pack animals lead rope to the saddle horn or to any other part of the your saddle. Hold the lead rope in your hand, but DONT wrap it around your hand–if the ponied animal pulls the rope tight, you could get dragged.

If you must nudge the ponied animal along with pressure, wrap the lead rope just once around the horn with your thumb in the air. You can release such a dally near instantly, if needed.

Progress to trails. If your trails are narrow and tree-lined, all the better; such trails encourage the ponied animal to stay in single file behind you. Dont tolerate the ponied horse trying to pass you–if necessary, reprimand him with a slap to his chest with the end of the lead rope.

If your ponie horse guards his lead position, all the better. many lead horses will signal the animal to stay back,which is good as long as it isn’t accompanied by anything vicious, such as biting or kicking.

When crossing creeks or other obstacles, don’t give into temptation to dally the lead rope around the saddle horn to pull the reluctant animal each time it hesitates. That’s a last resort method.

Take your time. Let the ponied animal study the situation. Its natural inclination will to follow you across, and some patience here will build a better pack (and saddle) animal down the road.

Add A Load

Either a sawbuck or Decker pack-saddle, coupled with a pair of soft (cloth) panniers, works well for giving the pack animal its first exposure to carrying weight.

First, accustom the animal to the saddle itself with all the same preparation you’d use for a riding saddle. All pack saddles are equipped with both a breast strap and breeching. Gather these on top of the saddle when you first place it on the animals back. Cinch just tightly enough to keep the saddle from slipping–you can take up another notch later on.

Take your time sliding the breeching down over the animals rump. Let it get used to that, then stand safely to the side, and carefully lift its tail over the breeching.

I’ll often turn relatively calm animals loose in a stout round pen when newly saddled. they may run around just a bit, but most accustom themselves to the saddle after some free time with it.

After a few saddling lessons, add the soft, empty panniers, Be sure to attach the important strap that connects the two panniers together under the animal’s belly. Without it, the panniers will flop around, and there’s no sense making this process unnecessarily scary to it.

Add weight gradually. A good initial load might be two sacks of grain, perhaps 25 to 30 pounds each. For a husky beginner, I often use two 50-pound sacks of stock salt or feed, put them into heavy garbage bags to prevent leakage. Or, if your familiar with packing hitch-es, you can leave off the panniers and hitch a small tire to each side.

When the animal is familiar with carrying the load in the corral, pony it on the trails. Avoid cargo that’s fragile or noisy at first. The pack animal will feel the pressure of the breast strap on uphill grades, and, more strange to it, that of the breeching when it goes downhill.

After a session or two, your likely to have a horse or mule that can be trusted with more valuable items. (However, I often restrict the new recruit to carrying horse feed-two 50 pound sacks–on its first trip into backcountry.)

Build on these by adding different items to the pack and by going out for longer amounts of time on increasingly challenging trails.

You’ll soon have a steady, reliable backcountry partner.

Well it is September, 2011. Summer Camp has ended. I am going to miss the horsemanship classes my staff and I taught to the young men of the Boy Scouts, I’m going to miss the Outpost Nights; of loading up our riders and their gear only to ride the 2-3 mile ride to a camp site in which we set up tents and a grill and cook steaks marinated in a beautiful sauce accompanied with a baked potatoes and baked beans. I’m going to miss the guys playing frisbee in a large grassy field, the screams of delight from the youngins as they dive into the bushes looking for the errant toss of a football, and the group sitting around a campfire and roasting “smores( a delectable scrumpshis meal of chocolate, marshmallow and Graham Cracker). And then the telling of story’s as we watch the embers of our fire burn, casting a lasting glow upon the smiling faces of young men as they fight the oncoming sleep tugging at their eyelids.

Packing Up

I arose at 5am to feed the herd, which had grown at this point from 19 head to 24, due to some new horses being donated or the stock moved here from another boy scout camp for their winter pasture. The sun hasnt even popped up yet, so the darkness surrounds me like an envelope, the braes and nays of the horses in the field and stock yard tell me they are ready to eat, yes they know I’m leaving, yes they know, these animals, the horses they and I have spent every day, and at times all day and night together, we bonded, we trusted, we understood each other. I load the bales of hay into the barrows and wheel it out to the corral, they all line up like kids to breakfast of sugar-coated candy(one would think). the occasional bickering, an ear pinning became apparent as they horses jostled for position in the feeding order; the same as school children when lining up for lunch on pizza day…

The night before I had pre-packed all my gear, discarding unneeded or dispensable items. Cleaned my cabin so that all was left was my two packs, pack-saddle rack, my saddle and medic bags. I trudged over to my horses, Osage and Maxford, slipping their headstalls over each ones head, I lead them both out and over to the tie up post where i groomed them, picked their hooves clean and got them ready to pack up and ride out. I slide the pack-saddle onto Maxford and load the packs onto the crossbars, he looks at me with his long brown and gold hair hanging in his eyes; as if to say: “oh no, where are we going now, and how long will it take us this time?” I soothe him by saying: “Its ok my Sugarbear(my nickname for him), we aren’t going for a long one this time, just down the road 20 miles”.

After snugging everything up on Maxford I saddle up Osage, she knows the routine quite well, as we have been through this many times over the few thousand miles we have ridden in the last four years. by now the sun is up over the mountains as I pull my long about me, put my foot into the stirrup and hoist my self into the saddle, I reach down and untie Maxford from the tie rack and with a click-click we start out slowly heading up the dirt path with which we will ride for the last time…

Leaving Wente Scout Reservation

If you were to follow the dirt trail, it would lead you around a small stand of trees, past the back side of archery onto a roadway in which leads to the main part of camp. But on this morning we ride half the trail and turn into the wooded area that abutts the Canyon Road that boarders the camp. The smell of morning damp air fills my nose with scents of decaying leaves, the water of a nearly dry creek. The screech of an Owl perks Osage’s ears as we ride past its nesting point, almost as if to say: “Goodby and be safe”, perhaps it is what I wanted to hear in my mind. There is no trail at this point, just an open grassy field that leads to a private dirt road that rounds itself downward around a hill, past the ranch homes that are sparingly sitting nestled in the wooded alcoves of Pines and Douglas Fir trees,the dry leaves crackle under hoof, the air is a slightly breezy as we ride farther down the roadway. Its turns and twists around stands of trees and meanders in a downhill grade, gradually reaching the carpeted tarmac of Canyon Road. Across the little bridge we trudge across and head towards the Town of Willits as the sun rises slowly behind us.

Good Bye Willits

We round the bend in the road after an hour or so and head across yet another bridge that borders the downtown of Willits, California. We pass the Mendocino County Feed Store,  its large metal gates open to allow customers to drive in and load their supply. Pass the local Pub where I enjoyed a cold brew and nice conversation with the locals of the beautiful little town. The park sits on the right with its swings slightly swaying in the morning breeze causing the chains to squeak as they move. Birds are in the trees singing their morning songs. We hed on up onto Main Street and stop at our favorite place for coffee before heading out to Sherwood Road.

Sherwood Road

Runs from Willits, Ca. twenty miles north to Laytonville, Ca. Passing through Brooktrails Residential Home division, surrounded by deep forests of Pine, Douglas Fir and Redwoods. The road is tarmac for about eleven miles, bounded by the various ranch homes and long driveways that seem to lead into nowhere. Every now and then a car or truck drives past us, the drivers wave or give a “thumbs-up” sign.

Sherwood Road originally was the main stage-coach route between Laytonvill and Willits, if one wanted to take the train south they had to ride a stage-coach from Laytonville to Willits “Skunk” train depot that would carry passengers to other destinations of California in the 18oo and 1900′s. Then when a train stop was put into place in Laytonville the stage coach travel became a passing memory, many of the local seniors can recollect the days.

The road twist and turns as it runs through the mountainous valleys and ranches. Fields as far as the eye can see run back into the deep valleys of the area. The tarmac eventually comes to a “Y” in the road, where you can go Left, which will lead into Fort Bragg, another 30 miles, or to the Right, which continues on to a dirt road, just wide enough to let two vehicles pass each other. The road rises sharply at points and turns blind corners of a dangerous nature. Grey boulders as big as a Mack truck sit in the middle of fields, some with green moss on one side, and a large Hawk sitting on it, watching with an ever careful eye for its next meal of rodent or snake.

Highway One O One

We finally reach highway 101, a four lane road, bordered on each side with the standard state steel  guard rail the follows along side, keeping people safe from the various deep drop off’s into the canyons. At some points the old railway follows alongside and then disappears into the wooded forests and valleys. cars and Semi-trailers pass by us at speeds of 65 and 70, blowing dirt and stones alongside us as we ride along to our destination. Another couple of miles and we see the street sign of Steel Lane of where I am heading, Sacred Dog Ranch.

Sacred Dog Ranch

The ranch sits at the end of a mile long road named Steele Lane, Sacred Dog Ranch is twenty acres of pristine wilderness that sits back in the forest of Mendocino County, boarded by mountains on either side, we ride along to the end of the road as we come to the gate which protects the property.

This post is loaded with a photo montage and video’s of Wente Scout Reservation and Circle W Corral Overnight Campout

http://youtu.be/t8jmzaiXCQE

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bwhWnjRcdOo

The first Sunday of the first week of Scout Camp entails the Department Directors to stand at designated points along the roadway that leads through camp and explain to the scouts the details of their respective programs.

Circle W Corral Spiel

It was on this day that I and Osage were standing at a point just past the Mess Hall Here, along with my co-workers, directors of mountain biking and rock climbing, we sit and wait for the troops pass by as they are escorted to various areas of camp to hear of the unique and exciting things to do here at camp. Our first group, of many, come walking up, a group of fine young men ranging in ages from 10 to 17, stop to listen to my spiel of the Circle W Corral and what we have to offer.

I explain where the Corral is located, what we offer in the way of acquiring the Horsemanship Badge, Trail Rides, Outpost Dinner rides, Lunch rides and Dinner rides.

Flags Ceremonies

At about 5pm, Osage and I, and my staff ride to Dinner Flags. Here we all line up to salute the flag as it is lowered. Then each Department Director introduces him or herself and their staff to the newly arriving scouts.

After this all done we head off to the mess hall for dinner, which is prepared by the many fine chefs and cooks hired by BSA. Some very fine meals are put out for the consumption of the many men and women of Wente Camp.

Sign-up

After dinner, I head over to the Administration building to do the sign ups for the Horsemanship class, Trail Rides, Outpost Rides and Dinner/Lunch Rides. Sitting a long wooden picnic bench with paper and pencil in hand and my Head Wrangler, Scott.

We sit here at this bench table and delicately handle all the requests for the different types of rides and classes. After an hour, we have signed up as many people as we can. Turn the monies and sign up sheets into the Trading Post and head off to our cabins to get ready for our first Scout Campfire.

Opening Campfire Ceremony

At 8pm my staff and I head to the Campfire Skit area, located down the trail past Waterfront, on the East side of the lake. Here a bon fire is started, Scout Directors and staff, after planning and rehearsing over the previous weeks, play their skits and music attributes to the enjoyment of all the Camp Scouts.

Ceremonies end with a salute to the American Flag; the old flag is laid to rest by the accords of proper flag retirement protocol. After which everyone meanders back to their perspective cabins and tents, and we; The Corral Staff, proudly ride our steeds back to the corral, greeting everyone as we pass and bidding them a good nights rest.

OPENING CEREMONY

The first weekend of the first week of Scout Camp is started with the opening ceremony of campfire. Where all the Wente staff gather to meet and greet, practice skits that are put on for the coming scouts.

My staff and I begin by cleaning the Circle W corral area, we had raked and cleaned and had moved an old large water trough of about 12 feet in diameter to the center of the parking area and built a fire pit using cinder blocks placed in a circle. And the fun began…..

After the ceremonies were finished, everyone bid ado and headed to their prospective cabins and or tents to get a good nights rest, for the week begins with the arrival of scouts on Sunday.

The road continues on past the Willits Rodeo Grounds, home of the states oldest rodeo; Willits frontier Days. Big wrought iron gates, painted black, standing guard for protection. A red brick building with the vacant windows staring out onto Commercial Street, lines the walkway before opening to Willits Park, beyond the fence line. Decorated with tall pines, groomed for maximum shade and coolness. The manicured green lawn flows to the road, interspersed with the standard state built B-B-Q grill, painted black, sitting on top of a 4 inch steel pipe, and a picnic table and bench sitting within cooking distance of the grill.

Willits, an eclectic mix of cowboys and old hippies, making for an interesting lifestyle for many. The many attributes of Willits is the great coffee shops that abound and, most notably, The Willits Skunk Train.

A s we continue along, we pass another park, where the squeak of a swing seat rings out, and the giggles and laughter fill the air from all the children enjoying their time at the park. A short 3 foot tall fence surrounds the sandy bottomed area of rides where the kids play. The fire station sits across the road with its two big beige painted doors closed untill an alarm sounds, across from the front is the local theater, Noyo Theater,

The Noyo Theatre, constructed by Redwood Theatres, opened in 1939.

In 1996, the theater was renovated by Cinema West, who restored the main auditorium to its original glory. Additionally, two smaller theatres were constructed in back of the original large auditorium.

North on main street is a great coffee shop, a drive through which suites me just fine, and the window is at just right height for me to be able to be served. An old fuel station, rebuilt into a drive-thru coffee stop, in the drive across from the window is a sitting area with the plastic round patio table covered with an umbrella and surrounded by a couple of white plastic patio chairs. A good respite after an hour or so riding into town, great coffee and even greater hospitality.

Willits will be a place of good memory’s; locals were very friendly and hospitable. As we rode around town, people would beep their horn and wave or give a thumbs up sign. A town where I felt comfortable and welcome.

I awoke to a cold and drizzly morning. The ground was soaked with rain water, making it spongy when walking. In the morning haze of fresh rain and fog I started my fire with what little dry wood I could find and began cooking some biscuits and gravy I had stashed away in my packs. I let the horses loose from their rope ties to forage the grass before I saddle  them up for our final journey into Wente Scout Reservation.

After finishing eating and washing my plate and cup in a nearby creek, I began the arduous chore of packing my gear. I moved as fast as I could as I gazed up into the sky and watched as more storm clouds moved in.

Breaking down all my gear and putting it away into the packs, brushing Max down and wiping as much water from his back as I could before setting the cross-pack saddle upon him. He stood there with this “Oh no, not again” look upon his big brown eyes.

Making the proper adjustments to Max’s pack and Osage’s saddle, I climbed up into the wet seat and began our journey to the Wente Scout Reservation.

Between were I had camped and the main road to camp, Canyon Road, there are five creek crossings, none of which are too deep or fast-moving to be concerned about.

The Creeks

Were only about a foot or two deep, swirling around various bushes, tall pines and douglas firs. The road, if that’s what you want to call it, wound around the surrounding hills and ridges. Filled deep with oaks, pines, and douglas firs, reaching to the sky as I craned my neck to see the tops. On both sides of every creek were the deep ruts of vehicle tires, some looking as though a few might have gotten stuck in the mud.

Along one side of the trail was an open area of a few hundred square yards, littered with the remnants of past campfires and drinking binges shown by the amount of beer cans and bottles strewn about.

Canyon Road

After a couple of miles we trod upon the hard tarmac of Canyon Road and turn left to our destination. The double yellow line is worn from many a year of vehicles speeding out from the dirt road known as Tomki. As we travel along, the road is lined on both sides with the county standard painted white line that curves along the roadway as it turns this way and that thru the canopy of pine and oak trees. Along one side of the shoulder is a dry creek bed that is overgrown with tall green grasses and the brown scaly patches of pine tree trunks.

Wente Scout Reservation

As we follow out of a turn in the road I notice the brown painted wooden sign that marks the entrance to the Boy Scout Camp.The road leads around great stands of timber, reaching their green limbs and needles to the darken sky. About a mile into the camp, the woods open up to an area of green grass and boulders, that later I found had rolled from atop the surrounding hills. On the right is another old and weathered sign pointing to direction of the camp.

Around another turn and we are riding along side the Camp Lake. Beautifully pristine and about 2-3 acres in diameter. The roadway wraps around the outer edges of the lake like a warm scarf that gives you a comfortable and peaceful feeling, almost like coming home.

Eventually the road winds around to the other side of the lake and meets at the Camp Mess Hall, a large building, with a wide stairway leading to the double entry doors on the right side. The roof is a sky blue painted metal sheeting dotted with bubble sky-lites to allow light in and conserve on electricity. And large plate-glass windows surrounding the building on three sides of the building, giving a great view of the scenic landscape.

Here the road splits to left and right, to the right is the adminstration building, painted a rustic brown with the roof being same color as the Mess Hall, surrounded by a three-inch ship rope snaked through holes drilled into a 4-inch round post, set into the ground. The directory sign is of a 4×4 post with a resemblance of a scout in uniform pointing in the direction of the various Camp activities locations.

The Circle W Corral

We turned left at the fork in the road and headed along the camp road, passing the Mess Hall, the road being a bit wet from the past days of rain, ran along side various campsites filled with the boy scout tents, a drab green color and the smell of the aged canvas, along with the odors of the noon-day sun heating up the grasses and brushes wafts pass my nose and brings back wonderful memories of when I was a child and enjoying the camping outings of days gone by.

The road meanders around the outbuildings, and more camp sites and then gradually drops down and around “The Lodge”. A beautiful two-story building made of pine logs, with a wrap around deck to sit and watch the sun set after a day of outdoor activities. The front doors open wide to a large spacious living room, decorated with leather-bound chocolate-colored couches. On the left as you enter is a large dining table, designed to accommodate at least 15 people comfortably. Straight ahead is the kitchen with all the updated amenities. The stairway to the right of the kitchen is made of large pine logs and set into place with large bolts and planks. Leading to the second floor, it opens out onto a veranda of twenty feet long and 5 feet wide, overlooking the sitting room. Across from the railing is a large window with a view of some of the most beautiful land I have seen. Spruce, Douglas Fir, Pines, even some redwoods decorate the lands  for as long as the eye can see, dotted amid the landscape are the homes of the local residents.

Coming around the Lodge, the roads leads to the corral and my living quarters. The barn is a large brown painted building with two large sliding doors as the entrance. My office was in here, along with a bathroom and shower for staff.

My living quarters is in the form of a typical cabin, light brown pine logs of twelve inches in diameter make up the support of the building. The deck runs from side to side of the cabin with pine log railings set into the pine log supports. Inside is barren with eight bunk beds made of pine lumber and the standard three-inch vinyle mattress as in most camp bunk houses. The four large white framed windows let enough light to be able to see well enough with out lighting.

Here is where I will spend the next eight weeks…..

In a rain storm is not much fun, but one has to do what one has to do.

I awoke to Terri fixin some breakfast, bacon, eggs, but the coffee is what got me going. nothing better than a hot pot of coffee to get ya going in the morning.

I had to wait for the maintenance guy to arrive so I could get my horses out of their stalls. And the rain continued on as I pulled them to a tree alongside Terri’s trailer where I tied them to so as to saddle them up.

We headed out onto the main road and turned north heading towards Willits, California.

We passed many old farm lands that had still standing barns and buildings left from the days of cattle running, now they have turned most of them into Vineyards and use the old out buildings as storage sheds.

Along the way we came to a pathway that led us to a trail along side the railway tracks again, but then eventually crossed a stream. The trestle crossing the stream did not have anyway of walking across so we had to divert to a pathway down the river bank and cross the flowing river, at this point it didn’t matter if we all got wet or not, as the rain had already done that.

Upon reaching the other side we headed toward Redwood Valley on an easier and not as much vehicle traffic, much more safer actually. We stopped at a restaurant while in Redwood Valley and had some coffee and headed off again towards Willits.

We came to a crossroad in which an old yellow sign that had bullet holes in it, denoting which way to go to get to Tomki Road which eventually would lead me to my point of destination.

Tomki road is an old logger road used back in the day by lumber jacks and locals to get across the valleys and canyons of Redwood, Ukiah, and Willits. The road leads around mountains and valleys and finally turns into a dirt road which is signified by a hand painted sign nailed to a tree. Here the road turns to the right and crosses a small concrete bridge and turns into a dirt road, by this time though it was a trail of muddy proportions, every hole was a puddle, every step was a mud bath.

We passed along a few fenced in properties before I found a spot that sat next to a creek, (like I needed to see anymore water) on a flat grassy plain surround by big Pine and Douglas Fir trees. Here I set up a tent and attempted to get a fire going.

I unpacked Maxfjord and unsaddled Osage and let them roam around the area, it was protected on all sides and a lot of green grass so they wouldn’t stray. After getting my fire going, not an easy thing to do if you’re in a rainy area. I pulled out some bacon and flour and made some biscuits to eat. Settling down for the night in my tent, I fell asleep listening to the pouring down rain as it made noisy plunk sounds on top of the tent.

Is a long and arduous adventure on horseback.

The storm clouds in the mountain ranges are hanging low and moving south. Animals are taking shelter in rocks and tall grasses. I on the other hand have another 20 miles to go before I can rest.

Steam rises from the ponds and creeks as we pass by. Hills roll along on our right, dotted with occasional vineyards and businesses reaching out into the East.

The grasses are growing high as we; Osage, Maxfjord and I traverse the timbers that hold the old railway aloft across the land. Purple flowers adorn the sideways, as birds flutter about catching food for their youngins. The clouds becoming an ominous dark and foreboding of warning as we trudge along….

We finally get into Ukiah as it starts to rain, and not just a little rain; but a rain that soaks one to the bones. A rain that makes it hard to see a hundred yards ahead type of rain.  As we ride through the city we pass along a Pub and I make the decision to stop and get a warm up.

The building is a redwood  covered outer skin, with big Oak doors leading to an open area of the pub, off to the left is a room enclosed with glass doors for the smokers so that they don’t have to go outside. Inside the room are open windows with bars across them to let the smoke escape.

I left after warming up a bit and got back into the saddle and continued on my way, in the downpour of rain. Raindrops as big as quarters were hitting the ground with a thudding sound as we walked through town.

We were passing some people standing out in the parking area of car repair shop, they had pulled out their cameras as we rode past. One gentleman asked: “Where are you headed to?” To which I replied: “Willits in general, Wente Boy Scout camp in particular.

Here is where I met Terri Ott; I young man with reddish hair, deep hazel eyes and a cheery smile. He asked me all the usual questions and then asked where I was staying for the night. I told him where ever I can set up a tent. to this he replied: “Well I don’t have much, but i do have a trailer parked at the Ukiah Fairgrounds, you’re welcome to come and stay for the night, get a hot shower and a warm bed and good food.

I graciously accepted his invitation and proceeded to get directions; relatively simple actually, about two miles down the road and turn into the drive with the Fair sign.

So down the road I went in search of the fairgrounds. One could hardly miss it as I rode along. The weathered sign was eight foot by ten feet big and sat on a painted white metal pole of 24 inches in diameter. I turned into the parking lot as more rain continued falling. A few minutes later, Terri had shown up and introduced me to the office personnel and then took me to his trailer, where I tied both Osage and Maxfjord to a tree and started unpacking them.

I was introduced to a gentleman that is the maintenance man here, a medium build of a man, with black hair covered with a stained ball cap. Bright eyes and an easy smile. He asked: “So where ya headed to?” I said: “Willits, the Boy Scout Camp at Wente”  ”Oh really!”; he said with admiration, as he related the many good summers he had there when a youth in the Boy Scouts Of America.

I asked him how much I owed him for the two stalls I was using for my horses; to which he replied: “Ya know since your riding to Willits, by horseback, and working for the Boy Scouts..Well I am not going to charge you anything for your horses staying here one night”.

So I put my horses into the dry stalls, found a few flakes of hay and tossed it to them, letting them settle in for the night, nice and dry and warm.

I walked back over to Terris trailer and sat down on a comfortable warm AND dry sofa and proceeded to revel Terri with tales and pictures of my travels as he cooked up a few burgers for us to eat. Well I must have been really tired, because the next thing I know the alarm was ringing and Terri was up cooking an awesome breakfast of eggs, bacon, potatoes and toast.

The rain had subsided for the time being at 6 am, but the clouds in the distance gave a very different story, as they were moving quickly in my direction. So I relegated myself to accepting I will be riding another twenty miles in the rain.

I went to fetch my horses only to find a gate locked between the paddock area and the stall area, then a man poked his head out the door and was kind enough to give me the combination. I opened the gate and went in to retrieve my horses. I walked them back to Terri’s Trailer where his brother was sitting, Terri’ had left for work already, his brother had said, and added: “he asked me to stay here to see if you need any help”

So I saddled up Osage, packed up Maxfjord and bid my good byes to Terri’s brother and told him to tell Terri Thank You So Much for the hospitality. Then a blue pick up drove up and the woman in the driver’s seat, the same woman who was in the Fair Office, had asked if I needed anything, to which I replied: “No Thank You, BUT Thank YOU  So much for the friendliness and hospitality.

So with this I said my good-byes and got in the saddle and rode out of the Ukiah Fairgrounds with the good feelings of meeting new and awesome people of which I am proud to say are my friends.

Is my next foray…20 miles down the road I was told by Dave at the Solar Living Center.

So I awaken at about 5am, the sun has started to raise above the mountain range off into the East. I roll over in my warm comfy sleeping bag, not wanting to get up, but knowing I have to.

Gotta feed the horses, and myself for that matter. And DO I need my coffee. So I throw off the blanket and crawl out from the sleeping bag. Grab my brown leather boots that had stiffened in the cold night air. Mind you; aint no worse problem than trying to slip on frozen boots, shivering from the cold air, and needin coffee… Finally I got the boots on, and unzipped the front door of my tent, small chards of ice fall to the ground as the zipper moves along its rachety teeth.

The dew on the blades of grass that is almost two feet high, shown like gilded edges of a book as the suns rays bounced their gleam from them. I stepped out into the mist that had surrounded us through the night and stood and stretched. I looked over to my horses; Maxfjord and Osage, they were laying on the ground huddled next to each other. Now if my batteries had not gone dead in night it would have made for a great picture. But I’ll do the best I can with a verbal description.

So I look over across the dew covered grass and there lay my two horses Maxfjord and Osage, Osage with her big brown and white paint coat, has her head stretched out along the grass, perpindicular to the chain link fenceline. Maxfjord, with his robust wine barrel body the color of a light brown and black socks, he is laying along side Osage with his head tucked up on her belly. Well when I stood up; they both just lifted their heads and looked at me and layed them back down.

Well I rousted them up and saddled them up, I walked them through a back fence gate and around the property fence line to a clear spot and got up into the saddle. The sun was shining a bit more brighter, the air was a bit thick; as if another storm was coming in.

So through town we rode; past the sign of the Solar Living Space.

Past my favorite hamburger place..

I ride through the town of Hopland; a beautiful small town of only a mile or so long. Passing the many historic buildings that once housed various businesses of the agriculture area, now having been turned into offices of attorneys or a dress making shop. One building, one of the oldest landmarks in town is the Bluebird Hotel and Cafe. It has been a hotel since the first of the town of Hopland. Across the street is a Cafe called Sunny’s Donuts. So I tied up my horses here and went in for coffee and breakfast.

So I walk in and order coffee from the owner, a short lovely woman, dark black hair that reaches to her shoulder, wearing wrangler jeans and a white blouse, her eyes twinkle as I walk in and she cheerily says: “Good Morning, Would you like some coffee?”

“Absolutely” I reply and walk over to the coffee counter where two silver canisters sit, I hold a cup under neath and push the large black button and coffee splurts into my cup. The owner says to me: “So I see your all pack up, where are you heading off to?” “IS THAT real?” she says in exclamation; pointing to my side-arm. I said: “Yes, and yes its unloaded”; as per state law.

Well I had my coffee and ordered some breakfast; relaxed a bit before I left for Ukiah. The table tops, were of a shellacced wood, with metal route iron chairs. the cafe wasent that big. But big enough to seet about 10 or 15 people, when you walk in the door there is a glass case like a meat case on the left filled with breads and cakes and delicious looking pastries, it stops at the counter where sits a cash register and to the righ along the wall is various goods of canned foods. Then back to the front picture window that viewsout onto the main street.

I finished my coffee and breakfast and pay my bill, with a smile and a wave I bid my farewell to the owner, and I walk out the door to the mornign sun and my horses tied to a steel gate, I step up in to the saddle and head north along State Road. I see a cut off that leads across the railroad tracks, here I turn and follow along the tracks again heading to Ukiah…