After the previous night's excitement, we woke up to a promising day. I fed Maxine her breakfast and then went to see how much damage she'd done to her leg the night before. Further inspection showed that she had a somewhat nasty rope burn, but was otherwise unscathed. I went to our pack and returned with the Neosporin and a tube of Banamine to sooth any pain.Banamine -- Never leave home without it!
Maxine's breakfast and first-aid session was followed by our breakfast, which was followed by a discussion of the plans for the day.
Most of the group was planning to take a day hike to the top of the cliff that surrounded the far side of the lake. Ken had already hiked to the top of the cliff and back the day before. Since he had horse experience, I asked him what the trail looked like. I've been on cliff hikes before, so I know how skinny and treacherous those trails can be. I was not looking to set out on a Grand Canyon-style ride that day.
He said that the trail was very good. Mostly wide with a few sections of loose shale. He had noticed hoof scrapes on the rocks, so horses had been up there before. He also mentioned that there were three spots where a rider might feel more comfortable leading their horse instead of riding.
I knew I wanted to take Maxine for a ride, but I wasn't sure which direction I wanted to go. Being the only rider in the group, I knew I'd be out alone, so I had to consider a route that would be the safest for us. After a bit of thought on the matter, I decided to head off on a mile loop around Donna Lake. Like the first day, I'd never be too far away from camp and I had my whistle to call for help if needed. I tacked up, showed Mom where I was headed, said I'd be back by 12:30 p.m., and set off down the trail.
Maxine was eager to go, until we came to the fork that led to Donna Lake. When I turned her down the trail and she stopped in her tracks.
Personal observation: Here's the thing I've learned from my trainer about mules in the wilderness -- they have a strong self-preservation instinct that they inherited from their donkey side. That's what helps makes them such safe trail animals. The key as a rider is to trust their instinct. That doesn't mean you need to turn around and head home at the first sign of hesitation, but it's a good idea to assess the situation before you proceed.
After a look around, I urged Max forward. She politely obeyed and trod on -- for about 100 yards. Then, she stopped again. Hmm... that's interesting. I looked up the trail, but saw nothing. Of course, my senses are human. They're not nearly as attuned to the environment as Maxine's, who was now standing alert, looking into the brush. I took another look around and then glanced down at the trail. Oh my, that looks like a big kitty print.
Abort mission: turn around.
Now, I'm no sissy, but I was riding on my own, so I wasn't taking any chances. It's not worth forcing Max into a potentially dangerous situation for my benefit. I decided that this time I would listen to her instincts.
Undaunted, I backtracked and headed down the cliff trail that the rest of the group had taken. I figured I'd ride as far as I was comfortable and then safely turn around and return to camp. Besides, I'd told Mom that I'd be back by 12:30 p.m. and I didn't want to worry her by missing my deadline.
Maxine was cruising down the trail and we quickly passed everyone in our group. I waved to some campers who'd set up camp in a restoration spot (tsk, tsk, tsk) and continued up the trail.
Ken had been right. The trail was wide and easy. Though we were gaining a lot of elevation, it wasn't a steep climb. Maxine had no trouble as we ascended the trail. We passed the sections of shale that he had mentioned and were treated to gorgeous views of the lake basin below. We were soon following the edge of the cliff. Maxine clearly had respect for the edge, but she showed no signs of fear, so I rode confidently up the trail.
As we came around a switch back, I looked down the trail. Just ahead, the trail whittled down to about 2.5 feet wide. Two large, smooth rocks jutted out into the trail, sloping down to a section of solid ground about a foot wide, just before the edge of the cliff. "This," I thought, "must be one the sections Ken was talking about." To make matters worse, this section of trail was going downhill, so I knew Max would be less stable passing the rock than if it were uphill. Should I get off and lead, or take my chances?
Maxine helped me answer that question.
Just before the questionable spot, Max gave a hint of hesitation. I quietly halted her, dismounted, and lead her across the offending patch of trail as if that's what I'd been planning all along. As I said before, I'm no sissy, but I consider Max to be an equal partner in this relationship, so I was happy to trust her instincts. Plus, this gave her a chance to rest after a long climb.
We continued up the trail, side-by-side, for another 100 yards or so. We had reached our destination! I gave Max a big hug and thanked her for a job well done.
Max and I wandered toward the edge of the cliff (but not too close!) to see if we could spot Mom in the campsite below. It was so far down that all we could make out was her red shorts and tie-die shirt. "Hello!" we hollered from our perch. "I changed my mind! I may not be back by 12:30 p.m.!"
I waved my arms and thought she waved hers, too, but it was difficult to tell. We took in the views and then I returned to the saddle for the trip back down. I'm sure Mom had seen us, but I didn't want to dawdle, just in case she hadn't.
We soon came back to the skinny spot in the trail. This time, however, Max trudged on like a pro. She definitely had more power going uphill over that section. Good girl!
A few switch backs later, we met up with the rest of our group. We stopped for photos and a quick chat and then continued down the hill. Maxine was trucking! We reached the bottom and found Mom five minutes before our deadline!
After a drink from the lake and a nibble from the shoreline, I untacked Max and returned her to her clearing. I pulled up a chair and we sat in content silence, taking in the view of where we had been. There's a good chance we both dosed off a bit, too.
That evening, we went to bed pretty early -- about 9:30 p.m. Sleep was quick to come and I crossed my fingers that the day's ride was enough to keep Maxine quiet for the night. If only! At some point in the night, I was roused by nervous pawing.
I rolled over and asked Travis what time it was. I prayed that it was at least 5:00 a.m. so that I would have an excuse to start her breakfast to quiet her down. Travis checked his watch and replied, "It's 11:00 p.m."
WHAT!?! IT'S ONLY 11:00 P.M.!?! ARE YOU FREAKIN' KIDDING ME!?!
Tired and groggy, I rolled out of the tent and walked to Maxine's clearing. The nearly full moon flooded the wilderness, so I could see without a flashlight. A strong wind had come up -- the haunting tree-top wind that brings monsters and ghouls from lands far away. I looked at Maxine. She was calm in my presence, but I could see fear in her eyes. "Momma, how could you leave me tied here, alone, as bait for a cougar or whatever creature might be lurking in the shadows?" My heart sank.
I turned to walk back to the tent. As soon as I passed the trees, Max started to fuss again. I knew what I had to do...
"Psst. Give me my sleeping bag," I said to Travis.
"What?"
"Give me my sleeping bag," I repeated. "She's scared and I can't leave her up there alone. She might tie herself up again. I'm going to sleep with her."
"Do you have to?"
"Yes, I do."
I quickly returned to Maxine's clearing -- sleeping bag in one hand, chair in the other. "This is nuts," I thought, as I placed the chair near her head, hopped in my sleeping bag, and settled in. Fortunately, my sleeping bag unzips from the bottom, so I was able to stick my feet out, in case I needed to get away in a hurry.
With the bag warmly over my head and flashlight in hand, I closed my eyes to get some sleep. Max stood quietly above me, making happy mule sounds.
I wish I could say that we fell asleep then and there, but that wasn't the case. Max was quiet but still very aware of her surroundings. Every so often, she'd freeze, staring into the woods behind us.
Ken had been right. The trail was wide and easy. Though we were gaining a lot of elevation, it wasn't a steep climb. Maxine had no trouble as we ascended the trail. We passed the sections of shale that he had mentioned and were treated to gorgeous views of the lake basin below. We were soon following the edge of the cliff. Maxine clearly had respect for the edge, but she showed no signs of fear, so I rode confidently up the trail.
As we came around a switch back, I looked down the trail. Just ahead, the trail whittled down to about 2.5 feet wide. Two large, smooth rocks jutted out into the trail, sloping down to a section of solid ground about a foot wide, just before the edge of the cliff. "This," I thought, "must be one the sections Ken was talking about." To make matters worse, this section of trail was going downhill, so I knew Max would be less stable passing the rock than if it were uphill. Should I get off and lead, or take my chances?
Maxine helped me answer that question.
Just before the questionable spot, Max gave a hint of hesitation. I quietly halted her, dismounted, and lead her across the offending patch of trail as if that's what I'd been planning all along. As I said before, I'm no sissy, but I consider Max to be an equal partner in this relationship, so I was happy to trust her instincts. Plus, this gave her a chance to rest after a long climb.
We continued up the trail, side-by-side, for another 100 yards or so. We had reached our destination! I gave Max a big hug and thanked her for a job well done.
Max and I wandered toward the edge of the cliff (but not too close!) to see if we could spot Mom in the campsite below. It was so far down that all we could make out was her red shorts and tie-die shirt. "Hello!" we hollered from our perch. "I changed my mind! I may not be back by 12:30 p.m.!"
I waved my arms and thought she waved hers, too, but it was difficult to tell. We took in the views and then I returned to the saddle for the trip back down. I'm sure Mom had seen us, but I didn't want to dawdle, just in case she hadn't.
We soon came back to the skinny spot in the trail. This time, however, Max trudged on like a pro. She definitely had more power going uphill over that section. Good girl!
A few switch backs later, we met up with the rest of our group. We stopped for photos and a quick chat and then continued down the hill. Maxine was trucking! We reached the bottom and found Mom five minutes before our deadline!
After a drink from the lake and a nibble from the shoreline, I untacked Max and returned her to her clearing. I pulled up a chair and we sat in content silence, taking in the view of where we had been. There's a good chance we both dosed off a bit, too.
That evening, we went to bed pretty early -- about 9:30 p.m. Sleep was quick to come and I crossed my fingers that the day's ride was enough to keep Maxine quiet for the night. If only! At some point in the night, I was roused by nervous pawing.
I rolled over and asked Travis what time it was. I prayed that it was at least 5:00 a.m. so that I would have an excuse to start her breakfast to quiet her down. Travis checked his watch and replied, "It's 11:00 p.m."
WHAT!?! IT'S ONLY 11:00 P.M.!?! ARE YOU FREAKIN' KIDDING ME!?!
Tired and groggy, I rolled out of the tent and walked to Maxine's clearing. The nearly full moon flooded the wilderness, so I could see without a flashlight. A strong wind had come up -- the haunting tree-top wind that brings monsters and ghouls from lands far away. I looked at Maxine. She was calm in my presence, but I could see fear in her eyes. "Momma, how could you leave me tied here, alone, as bait for a cougar or whatever creature might be lurking in the shadows?" My heart sank.
I turned to walk back to the tent. As soon as I passed the trees, Max started to fuss again. I knew what I had to do...
"Psst. Give me my sleeping bag," I said to Travis.
"What?"
"Give me my sleeping bag," I repeated. "She's scared and I can't leave her up there alone. She might tie herself up again. I'm going to sleep with her."
"Do you have to?"
"Yes, I do."
I quickly returned to Maxine's clearing -- sleeping bag in one hand, chair in the other. "This is nuts," I thought, as I placed the chair near her head, hopped in my sleeping bag, and settled in. Fortunately, my sleeping bag unzips from the bottom, so I was able to stick my feet out, in case I needed to get away in a hurry.
With the bag warmly over my head and flashlight in hand, I closed my eyes to get some sleep. Max stood quietly above me, making happy mule sounds.
I wish I could say that we fell asleep then and there, but that wasn't the case. Max was quiet but still very aware of her surroundings. Every so often, she'd freeze, staring into the woods behind us.
Now, the sensible part of my brain knew that there was nothing to be scared of. We weren't in bear country and it was highly unlikely that a cougar would attack a giant blue worm in the middle of the night. Still, I was surrounded by darkness and the unknown, so I wasn't quite so sure about my safety.
I drifted in and out of sleep for about an hour. Then, at about 12:30 p.m., Maxine locked on something in the distance. Something was walking toward us -- an animal that sounded to be about 120 to 150 pounds. I froze, cursing myself for bringing my flashlight but leaving my knife safely in the tent.
"Sit or stand?" I thought. "Sit or stand?"
Finally, it was too close for comfort. I leapt from my chair and shined my light into the forest. The animal gave out an eery cry, "Eeeugh!" It turned and headed further into the forest. It cried again, this time from a much greater distance. I stood frozen for a moment, then I looked around at Maxine. She dropped her head and began quietly licking and chewing. Content the creature was leaving, I returned to my chair and sunk lower in my sleeping bag.
Personal observation: I never did see what crossed our path that night, and no one else heard our visitor except Travis (so I'm not completely insane). The general consensus amongst the group the next day is that it was a deer that was headed to the lake for a midnight drink. Mom had seen a doe in the area twice, so it made sense. Travis and I later listened to some deer sounds online, and it's quite possible that it's what we heard. Deer or not, it was creepy as hell in the middle of the night!
I woke up again around 2:00 a.m. The wind had died down and the moon was about 20 minutes from dropping beyond the horizon. I knew it would be dark soon and I'd be much happier if I were safe in the tent. I'm not sure why I feel safer behind a millimeter of nylon, but it's true.
Maxine was sleeping soundly, so I tip-toed to the tent. I waited for her to stir as I unzipped the door, but she remained quiet. I happily snuggled up next to Travis, who hadn't gotten much sleep either. He was too busy worrying about me.
Exhausted, I was soon in dreamland.
I drifted in and out of sleep for about an hour. Then, at about 12:30 p.m., Maxine locked on something in the distance. Something was walking toward us -- an animal that sounded to be about 120 to 150 pounds. I froze, cursing myself for bringing my flashlight but leaving my knife safely in the tent.
"Sit or stand?" I thought. "Sit or stand?"
Finally, it was too close for comfort. I leapt from my chair and shined my light into the forest. The animal gave out an eery cry, "Eeeugh!" It turned and headed further into the forest. It cried again, this time from a much greater distance. I stood frozen for a moment, then I looked around at Maxine. She dropped her head and began quietly licking and chewing. Content the creature was leaving, I returned to my chair and sunk lower in my sleeping bag.
Personal observation: I never did see what crossed our path that night, and no one else heard our visitor except Travis (so I'm not completely insane). The general consensus amongst the group the next day is that it was a deer that was headed to the lake for a midnight drink. Mom had seen a doe in the area twice, so it made sense. Travis and I later listened to some deer sounds online, and it's quite possible that it's what we heard. Deer or not, it was creepy as hell in the middle of the night!
I woke up again around 2:00 a.m. The wind had died down and the moon was about 20 minutes from dropping beyond the horizon. I knew it would be dark soon and I'd be much happier if I were safe in the tent. I'm not sure why I feel safer behind a millimeter of nylon, but it's true.
Maxine was sleeping soundly, so I tip-toed to the tent. I waited for her to stir as I unzipped the door, but she remained quiet. I happily snuggled up next to Travis, who hadn't gotten much sleep either. He was too busy worrying about me.
Exhausted, I was soon in dreamland.
Photo: Max and I cross one of the shale patches on the the return trip down the cliff trail.
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