Wyoming Warrior " Ride In"

We left before sunrise for the 40+mile drive to the staging corrals. Along the way we passed by mountains with big horn sheep standing on them. I still cannot comprehend how they climbed the sheer rocks that they made their homes.

We were also treated to groves of aspen trees and many standing pines. The mountains dropped off into the river bottom in which we drove. The meadows were used for grazing and we saw several ranches along the road.

Fortunately Paul actually followed Shane’s directions and we located the corrals. They were near the Wind River. These corrals were jointly used by many outfitters for staging for their trips. There were many horses and groups preparing for a ride. Shane was already preparing the animals.

Our gear was laid out on a canvas tarp. We watched as Shane weighed and balanced the paneers with our extensive gear. He told us it was essential that each load be perfectly balanced to keep the horses and mules from falling off the mountain trail. My fear of heights was not quelled with this conversation.

Shane was to lead a pack mule, and each of us was to have two horses to ride. The trip was so strenuous that a horse had to rest for a day before being ridden again. Shane assigned us our first horse. Mine was a big dark chocolate brown male with a blaze on his face. His name was “Warrior”. I was to find he was aptly named.

Shane was in the lead trailing the mule and horses. Don and Paul followed, with me in the rear. Shane had said the horses know to follow each other, so I wasn’t worried about controlling my horse’s direction. Many groups were leaving so we had to wait our turn as many were headed in the same direction into the wilderness.

We left the meadow of the corrals through a small gate. As we left the gate, we started up. We were on the Loop Trail which traversed the Bridger Wilderness Area and led into Yellowstone. The trail was only as wide as the horses’ hooves. To understand this, put your two feet side by side. That is how wide the “trail” was on the mountain. It circled to the right as it rose up. To the right of the trail was a drop off to the river below. We were quickly a hundred feet above the stream. I remember thinking “Holy shit! If I lean right I’ll die. Steady, Warrior, I am only going to look ahead” I held the reins tightly.

Warrior held steady slowly following the other horses. Warrior decided that slowly was a good pace. We gradually fell a length behind the rest of the group. That stretched to two lengths. By the time we were an hour out, the group behind us began to catch-up. Shane told me to get up with the group. Unfortunately Warrior disagreed with this direction.

After kicking Warrior several times, he began to move, slowly. He kept turning his head as if to say knock it off or else. The group behind finally caught us and had to stop. I kicked Warrior a few more times as my group stopped to wait for us.  Warrior shook his head in disagreement, but we did finally close the distance. Finally Shane let the following group pass us. As we continued on, I would continue to have to push Warrior. I did not realize this would be a problem all week.

My image of the western mountains had been formed by TV westerns. To me the west was barren, dry, with bare rock mountains and dusty valleys. Remember The Lone Ranger on Silver? All of the land was steep. In one Black Stallion book I had read of pine forests and was surprised that was part of the western mountains. I had flown over the Rockies while in the army and saw only black rock with a dusting of snow.

All of my images were inconsistent with what I saw on this trip. The mountains stood above us for most of the trip. They were grey rock above and forests below. They were steep, but not completely vertical. The biggest surprise was the stream valley meadows with grass and sage.

Most of the trip followed a meadow along the North Fork of the Buffalo River which flowed toward the Wind River. This was much more relaxing ride. We took a break about half way and dismounted. (Technically we mostly fell off the horses.) After remounting and riding through the sage (it is actually golden that time of the year) for a few more hours, we started moving into a slightly elevated area.

The campsite was near the North Fork of the Buffalo River in a wooded area. We reached the site in the afternoon. It was also the base of Joy Peak. Shane said there was preparation work we needed to do when we arrived. The campsite had recently been set up. 

Paul was pleased to see we had wall tents. These were set for elk hunters, not fishermen. Fishermen camped in smaller tents set for summer use. Wall tents had heater stoves in them. Elk season was beginning and we were to be the last group in for fishing.

The camp crew included a husband and wife team of a cook and a camp worker in addition to Shane. Shane hooked hobbles to our horses’ legs and led them out of camp. The hobbles would not prevent the horses from moving, but they would not be able to run. Shane took them to a nearby meadow and returned.

We were given a quick camp tour, including the location of the shit teepee. A very small one at that.  Paul and I shared a tent and Don was alone. Each tent was given a small amount a sawdust soaked with kerosene. We were to manage our own heat stove. After stowing our equipment in our tents, we helped stack firewood. No power equipment was allowed in wilderness area. All firewood had to be cut by axe and saw. Fortunately a good stack of firewood was already cut, although the logs were about six feet long.

We were given water jugs and told to fill them by a spring near the river. We were told the water was safe to drink. We were also given what looked like a fire extinguisher. This was bear spray and was to be used if a Grizzly Bear approached us.  As the three of us walked to the river, Paul revealed he had also brought a .45 pistol from home, just in case we encountered a bear. Did I mention that these things were not included while describing all the fun we were to have on this trip?

When we returned a fire was going and food was being prepared. Bread was made in a Dutch over set down in the fire. Steaks were cooked over the flames. It was perfect meal after a hard day’s ride. We sat by the fire and listened to the crew stories about places they had worked.

The daytime scenery was different in every direction. Then came the dark of a clear night.  A completely strange world appeared to replace the clear sky of the day. I witnessed the most spectacular view of the heavens. The sky in the wilderness is unobstructed by ambient light.  In all the years living on a farm in the country, I never saw such a display. The stars are more numerous than one can imagine. The Milk Way spread across the like a band of fog among the blaze of pin points. All of this exists unseen, except in the wilderness.  I understood why ancient people created stories about the stars and planets. Something that beautiful needed to be explained.