GOING BACK IN TIME

[JimT]

We caught our mounts about daylight and brought them into the corral where we fed them, brushed them and checked them over. After we had screwed down the saddles tight and tied the saddle bags and gear on we rode out of the corral, heading into the mountains. This was just a day ride. We planned on being back by dark or shortly after, though we all understood that “things happen.” We carried enough gear that we could take care of ourselves for a time if need be.

Paul led the way on his big black gelding while Tim was on his Mule. The Mule was a big one, larger than the horses by quite a bit. And it was cantankerous, though it respected Tim. He had worked with it for quite a long time and they had gotten used to each other. The year after this that same Mule will be ridden by a less experienced rider and in the Aravaipa it will buck him off into some rocks and break the man's back, requiring a helicopter to get him out and to the hospital. But on this day we and the animals were all happy and getting along just fine.

An hour into the ride and we were peeling off our jackets and tying them behind the saddles. It wasn't going to be a hot day but it sure wasn't jacket weather. Climbing up the Oracle Ridge Trail we were soon passing 6000 feet elevation and the animals, working up a nice sweat, were getting into the rhythm of the trail.

At some point Tim and Paul decided to cut off the trail and follow a cattle/game trail toward the East. This would take us around the mountains where we could swing back toward the South and home .. though not anytime soon. The country we were riding through had Mesquite and Palo Verde fairly thick in places. Coming through some of that we pushed out the little Coues Whitetail Deer that lived in those areas. They are a dainty small deer, rarely reaching 3 feet tall at the shoulder. A big one would weigh about 100 pounds. Most are a bit smaller. They are small enough that their ears look really big. These little deer are gray colored, especially in the winter, and blend into the high Sonoran desert country making them very hard to spot. If you startle them their normal habit is to run downhill into the heavier brush. A Mule Deer on the other hand will usually run for the top of the hill, wanting to go over and put it between you and him .. or her. The Coues Whitetail is quite a trophy and not one that is easy to get. I had a good friend who tried to collect one of every species of deer and came close to it, but never got a Coues deer.

Our mounts had been working hard so sometime before noon we stopped in a nice clearing where there had been some mining done. The tunnel was unshored and ran back into the hillside further than we could see. Out in front of the tunnel, maybe 50 feet from it, was a small 1 inch pipe sticking up out of the ground about a foot and it had water flowing up out of it. Apparently it ran all the time for it puddled up near the pipe, then made its way over and down the hillside into the wash at the bottom. There was a lot of grass around it and the horses and the Mule loved that! There was a small basin of about 5 gallons that collected the water before it ran down the hill and they loved that also.

We had pulled the saddles and tack off them and tied them with lead ropes so they could graze in the grass and drink what they wanted. Then we took time to have a sandwich and some warm/hottish coffee from a thermos. While we were there I took time to look around and back in the Mesquite I found the remains of a cabin. All that was left were the stone walls and the fireplace. It was small, maybe 8 feet by 12 twelve feet. The rocks were carefully laid in the walls and larger, longer rocks about 6 or 8 inches thick were over the doorway and the windows. Someone had put quite a bit of work into building it. It made me wonder if they ever gotten anything out of the mine other than dirt and rock.

After we had something to eat and relaxed a bit we loaded up again and were on our way. We rode down the hillside into the canyon below. The ground was a lot of small rocks and we took it slow as the horses tended to slip and slide a bit. The Mule was sure-footed, watching where it put its feet. If I had been on foot and coming down that hill I would have slipped and slid a bit! Riding in bad country you soon learned to ride with your toes in the stirrups, ready to bail out if need be. I never needed to but sometimes it was close. In the canyon bottom we flushed a herd of Javelina who took off like we were after them. A little further down we flushed quail. This part of Arizona has .. or had then, I am not sure about now .. a lot of quail. Scaley's, Gambel and Mearns quail were in the area below the town of Oracle. Arizona also has California quail and Masked Bobwhite quail, though I never saw any of those. The Gambel quail were abundant in and around our house in Oracle. I fed them and it was always fun to watch them come up the hillside with their babies in tow when I would toss out the feed.

As we rode on down the canyon it opened up until it was several hundred yards wide. The right side was a huge rock cliff with holes and cracks in the rock. I noticed critters running out and looking at us, then running across the face of the rock. Long tails gave them away... Coatimundi's! Apparently the rock face was a Coati village. If you have never seen a Coati in person it can be quite a shock to be confronted by one. A friend had moved to Oracle from the city and was not used to “country living” at that time. You know, bugs, snakes, tarantula's, deer, Javelina .. all in town. She was in the town Park and a coati stood up in front of her and about caused her to have a heart attack. She thought it was an alien!

Eventually the trail led us up out of the canyon and in a few miles we found the trail that would lead us back home. It was getting on toward evening now and would be dark in an hour or so. Riding along the ridgeline I was enjoying the view. To the South .. which was to my left just a bit .. I could see the mountain peaks of Mexico about 85 or 90 miles away. The air was clear and I could see a bright white spot on on Kitt Peak to the Southwest which was the observatory located there. It was 60 or 70 miles from me. The trail we were on was fairly smooth but covered with small rocks. My mare moved over it with ease. She always seemed to like the trips we took into the mountains.

As the trail meandered around the boulders and the ridges it grew narrower in places, with a cliff on my right going up from 3 or 4 feet to 25 or 30 feet above us. The left side dropped off very steeply into a large canyon. At some points the trail was only about 5 feet wide. Looking down into the canyon I saw a herd of deer maybe a quarter mile away. It was a beautiful day to be in the hills!

As we came around a bend suddenly there was a huge bull standing in the trail ahead of us. He was a big one! I was in the lead and pulled to a stop. I watched him to see what he was doing standing there. As I watched I could see he was footsore and having a hard time walking. In the rocks they can bruise their feet, especially when they are large and heavy like this guy was. There was nothing else to do so I gently rode up to him, talking in a low voice and trying to let him know we were not messing with him. The only place I could pass was on the outside … next to that long drop-off. We eased our way past him, the mare minding her manners. She could tell I was a bit nervous. But the old boy just let us all go on by and we had no issues. I put it in my mind to call the rancher that ran those cows in that part of the country and let him know about the poor old bull and his sore feet when I got home.

In a little while the light began to fade but we could still make out the trail. The critters knew we were on the way home and they were happy about that. The sun had dropped behind the mountains to the West but there was still light, more dim than full daylight but not dark. That time between when the sun goes down and when it gets dark was always seemed fairly long. And it was a good time to spot game and if you were hunting, to sneak in on them as it felt like you didn't “stand out” against the countryside so much. Maybe it was just in my head but it seemed to work for me.

Over the next 20 or 30 minutes we saw several herds of deer in the canyon bottoms or on the side of one of the mountains. They were a quarter mile away or more and didn't pay any attention to us. Then the darkness settled in, though there was still enough ambient light to see the trail ahead of us. Coming around a ridge and passing through some small trees my horse suddenly snorted and stopped. I tried to urge her onward but she refused. She was looking ahead and dimly I could see there was something in the trail. I couldn't tell what it was but it was not large. I turned the mare sideways on the trail and pulled my Freedom Arms 454 from the shoulder holster, lined up on whatever it was and pulled the trigger. The muzzle flash gave me instant Night Blindness, but I fired 2 more shots into the area where whatever it was had boogered my horse! Then, before the Night Blindness faded, I knew what it was. SKUNK! Turns out there was family of them on the trail. I am not sure I hit any but the big bullets blew rocks and gravel into them and killed at least 3. Man did it stink! We had a little trouble getting the animals past that place .. they were snorting and letting us know they did not like it!

We were only 4 or 5 miles from home by that time and we laughed about it part of the way. I was happy none of us got sprayed. From there on in was a good ride with a nice off-road road. Riding that “road” I often marked it by the various car parts that I found from people who tried to make it in a vehicle. You had to have something more than the standard 4-wheel drive to get through. Winches, jacks and come-alongs were required and it was best to have 2 or more other well-equipped vehicles traveling together. It was common for someone to walk up to our house and ask to use the phone because their vehicle was broken or stuck in some wash or on some rocks 5 or 10 miles back in.

By the time we got into the corral at home we all were happy to be there. It had been a long day, but a very pleasant one. We saw some new hunting country, rode some new trails and enjoyed being away from modern civilization. And it was good to get back to it! I loved camping in the wilds but I did not want to live like that. I enjoyed electricity and easy hot water and a nice bed. But I also enjoyed getting away from it for awhile. Little did I know that some years later we would be living on the other side of the world where living without all the luxuries would be normal. And it wasn't strange or new to us because we had experienced it at times all those years before.

The year was 1986 and in not too many years that will be 40 years ago! It seems like it was yesterday and I wonder where did the time go and why did it take some of those I love with it?

Oracle Ridge Trail.JPG

About 6000 feet elevation up the Oracle Ridge Trail.
Me on the left, Tim on his Mule, Paul's horse as Paul took the photo.

[Nath]

That's a big mule Jim
Thanks .

[Griff]

Thanks Jim. Almost like being there!

[gamekeeper]

A great story Jim and as Griff said almost like being there !

[Bill in Oregon]

More Taylor magic ...

[piller]

Don't let those experiences become lost. Even in our modern world, we need to be reminded of riding trails and of being out in the wilderness.

[JBowen]

Great story, Jim. It brings back memories of some of the horseback riding trips that I would go on with my Dad and uncles. We rode
in the Ozark National Forest which had several old homestead remains. We would even get together and coon hunt at night on horses and mules. There was an old family friend that liked to coon hunting with us and he rode a big mule like your friend.
I haven't been on a horse in 10 or 12 years and I miss it.

JBowen

[Grizz]

I had a bit of horse experiences growing up in the SW, but nothing like you'all did. Great memories to treasure, and a great tale to tell Jim, thanks.

grizz

[AJMD429]

.
thanks for sharing.
life can be so beautiful, but you have to savor it.
the bitter and sad some along as well, but perhaps that is what makes the good times all the more special.