By Bruce Becker
It was a perfect summer day in Colorado, with a sunny blue sky. My friend and I were saddled up by sunrise and rode off from where we had camped for a couple days at Jasper Lake, which is just at timberline on the Continental Divide in the Indian Peaks Wilderness. We rode by Devil’s Thumb Lake on the endless tundra, seeing the rock formation that gave it its name. We made our way down the western slope and camped before eventually reaching the Grand Valley, where we made our way up and over Stillwater Pass to some beaver ponds I’d fished in before. Here we made camp.
These ponds are in a beautiful hidden meadow, where our horse grazed on the high summer grass all night long. Our horses, Leto and Cherokee, were bomb-proof geldings that hobbled well. We caught plenty of small brookies in these ponds, which were silting in, as old beaver ponds will do.
We watched the big full moon rise as we enjoyed our evening campfire, the horses grazing peacefully nearby. A coyote choir serenaded us now and then through the night. We turned in under the stars, talking quietly about the day’s adventures and the small herd of cow elk and new calves we watched this afternoon. The elk children were frolicking undisturbed in this high mountain meadow. Their moms seemed unperturbed as we rode by, 100 yards away.
Next morning, after a breakfast of brookies and coffee, we rode off, crossing Willow Creek Pass and on to the Arapaho National Wildlife Refuge. This refuge is an important layover in North Park for thousands of migratory waterfowl. It is huge and treeless, sitting in the remote vastness of North Park.
We startled two golden eagles who rose simultaneously, clutching a prairie dog between them that was ripped in half when they flew up, as neither was willing to let go of it.
After crossing North Park we camped that night at Teal Lake and caught some 8-inch brookies for supper to go with our rice and beans. We soaked the beans all day in a plastic bag in our saddle bags and added chili powder we had brought to flavor the beans.
The horses loved the green grass by the lake and the moon was bright again as we bedded down by our campfire under the stars. We had zipped our sleeping bags together in order to snuggle against the chilly night air.
We awoke the next morning to a few flakes of snow that soon melted off as I built up the fire while my partner was still in the sleeping bag, waiting for the coffee to perk. We had a breakfast of oatmeal with raisins before we struck camp. Our tack was nice and dry under the tarp I’d stretched to keep off the morning dew. We watched a few deer feeding peacefully near the horses down by the lake.
While grooming the horses with clumps of twisted grass, I picked their feet and checked to see that their shoes were on tight before tacking them up for the day’s ride. I always carry a pair of shoe pullers, a few nails, a small shoeing hammer and an old worn extra shoe on these long trips. A worn shoe balances their feet better than a thicker new one.
Riding through thick woods of lodgepole pine, we rode up on two moose feeding on willow buds by a shallow sink. Thankfully they trotted off with no confrontation. Moose are Colorado’s wildlife success story. Hunted out in the early last century, two dozen were reintroduced to North Park in the early 1970s and soon became a herd of 600. Some of these were captured and released near the headwaters of the Rio Grande and now have spread practically everywhere in the state.
We camped that night in an idyllic spot on an unnamed creek, deep in the wilderness. Too woodsy to hobble the horses, we ran a high line and tied them to it after grazing them for a couple hours on leads. Horses can be such a calming influence, just being with them makes the day complete. They’re so sensitive and aware of their surroundings, I pay attention to them and trust their instincts.
The next morning we led them to a nice, flower-filled meadow where we could hobble them and let them graze and rest after a night on the high line. We spent the day there and another night before moving on. We saw pronghorns that didn’t spook while we recrossed North Park and headed for Caribou Pass.
There are few convenient passes across the Continental Divide that would take us the way we needed to go. So we took a day to cross the refuge and camped that night before we rode up the High Lonesome Trail and over Caribou Pass to Arapaho Pass, high above timberline. There we walked the horses over the rocky tundra of Arapahoe Glacier Trail and down past Rainbow Lakes and back home.
Tired but happy, we got back with some great memories and stories to tell.