Mountain Ride

Tuesday was the all-day mountain ride. You might wonder when we ever wrote, but there was plenty of time for that with scheduled literature sessions, writing prompts, and sharing of our writing every day. But you don’t really want to hear about that, do you?

We left the ranch at 9:00 a.m. in vans while the horses departed in trailers. Passing Albany, WY, population 15, we landed in a clearing among tall pines. Once settled on our mounts, we headed into the Medicine Bow National Forest along non-motorized vehicle trails. During a ten-minute silent period, we observed tiny waterfalls, moose tracks, and evidence of ground fires, which are needed to keep the forest healthy.

Along the way, I had a sense that although we didn’t see any wildlife, there were many “eyes” on us, from birds to insects to the trees themselves.

We stopped for lunch on a ridge above a swooping valley with the Snowy Range Mountains in the distance. We tied our horses to trees and sat on logs. It couldn’t decide what kind of weather it wanted up there, so out came the slickers (well, at least mine and one other person). You have to be careful when untying the slicker from the back of the saddle so as not to spook the horse. We also had to be careful not to rustle our plastic lunch bags too much, also.

After lunch, some journaling, and photo sessions, we were ready to head down the mountain. I was glad that the ride didn’t just reverse itself, so we had different scenery on the way back. There were two sharp descents and climbs, on which we let the horses pick their way. The route I would have chosen wasn’t necessarily Lollipop’s, but he knows better than I.

Sunday’s ride up Debano Hill was good preparation for this non-level portion of the trail. The idea of riding up to the top of Debano was appealing. I knew the view would be spectacular. I expected some winding path to the top and so was startled to find that we’d be making a nearly vertical ascent through a narrow, rocky ditch. My fear of heights kicked in, and I soon realized, like I did when climbing the Black Mountains on Route 66, that to turn around would be just as hair-raising as continuing up and would result in an unfinished trip. So, I pressed on with the group.

The old wrangler, Tommy, asked if I thought I could walk down the hill, and I said I might be able to. He said that if I could walk down on two feet, the horse could do it better on four. I was unconvinced. Wasn’t there some other way down?

On the top of the hill, which is really a six-mile plateau once you get there, we took tons of pictures and even saw a lone moose in the distance. Tommy took my picture, which I figured would be my last. While on the hill, I marveled at the bouquet of flowers that blanketed the ground. They were of every color in the rainbow and hugged the ground because of the oppressive winds under which they thrive. If I hadn’t reached the top of the hill, I never would have seen that sight.

With plenty of moral support from the group and a bit of deep breathing, I said my Hail Mary’s and was ready to start down—at the end of the line, so that only Tommy’s horse could fall on me. I couldn’t look to the bottom of the hill. I only looked at the dirt, rocks, and occasional flowers around Lollipop’s feet. I knew that each inch he progressed would add to the last and eventually, if we were lucky, we’d be on level ground.

I never looked up until they told me the worst was over and even then was hesitant to do so. I hugged good old, sure-footed Lollipop and knew I’d miss him when it was time to leave.

So, the hills on Tuesday’s mountain ride, while not quite as steep, were still scary because they were wet after a couple of days of rain. Had I not done the Debano Hill ride on Sunday, I would have been much more afraid and perhaps even paralyzed.

At the bottom of each of the mountain steep descents was a similar ascent and Lollipop took those with ease. He even wanted to trot up the hills. Toward the top of the second one, he finally stopped for a little rest, but was hardly even panting. Good old Lollipop.

When we returned to the trailers at around 3:00 p.m., I was both glad to be back and wished the ride had been longer. Boarding the vans, we were given the choice to return directly to the ranch, or stop for ice cream. A nap sounded great, but the ice cream won out, so we headed into Centennial, a little Wild-West type town to the general store complete with hitching posts outside, which, I bet, are often used.

Wyoming Trip 2009

Home to Davenport, IA (May 29, 2009)

Davenport, IA to Ogallala, NE (May 30, 2009)

Literature and Landscape Writers’ Retreat (May 30, 2009)

“Lollipop” (June 1, 2009)

Pictures (June 2, 2009)