The next morning we woke with the sun. Our horses were where we tied them, so we took them for another drink, and a nosebag full of pellets. I noticed the cinch had irritated Shorty’s “armpits” so I rigged my latigo to pull it back and away from the area that was chafed. We had a breakfast of oatmeal and coffee and headed back out on the trail to explore some more.
Here on top we encountered more snow on the north facing slopes, and it presented some challenging detours. See the video beyond the jump for examples.
But we were able to get into more of the mountain lake and mountain meadow type habitat that we wanted to see. Evidence of big game was still only tracks, but it was plentiful. Now in more open country we began looking for vistas that would give us a chance to spot game. The few high spots were usually granite domes sticking up above the tree tops. It took some careful navigation to find a route to get on top of these, and most required some hiking on foot.
Bonneville peak in the middle of the Wind River Range
We rode as far as we dared busting through more and more snow. Around noon we stopped and fixed another hot lunch, as the Winds tempted us on the horizon. I had told my wife and family we would return to the ranch by 6:00 pm that night. As much as I wanted to push through the snow and sit in the lap of Bonneville Basin, I knew it would throw us off schedule, so we pointed the horses towards home and they followed their backtrack like a coonhound on a hot scent.
On our way back we met the GROW Summer Camp group, fishing at one of the many high mountain lakes. We talked for awhile with Jim Ligori, the executive director of the Green River Outreach for Wilderness, as our horses munched green grass to fill their drawn up sides. They had come up with a string of riding and pack horses, and would be spending another couple nights up in the high country. We gave him our trail report of the country we had been through, and we strategized for the Fall. a quick check of the watch told us we would need to get moving if we wanted to make our dinner date back at the ranch, so we bid him and the campers fare well and began the three and a half mile ride back to the ranch.
The eight miles back was familiar trail and my GPS records showed our pace increased as we got closer to home. We made it back in just over three hours with some stretches had our horses hitting 3.8 mph at a walk. Of course the 2000 ft loss in elevation helped too.
We arrived back as my wife and mother were preparing to go out for a ride of their own, with Kay Morris and Debbie, the cook. with all the Campers on the pack trip, they now had a chance to relax themselves. Natalie put them on Snoopy and her steady mare Candy, and saddled up a green “guide horse” and the four of them had a leisurely evening ride, while Dad and I enjoyed a cold beer at the trailer. We had traveled 16 miles that day on horseback and sitting in a campc hair felt pretty good.
We dined that night on an assortment of quesadillas with steak, chicken and pulled pork. It would be the last night in Wyoming for Natalie, myself and our two youngest kids. My parents would keep Erin, our oldest, and attend the Green River Rendezvous as we drove the two days back through Utah and Nevada.
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