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The Ballad of the Owyhee- part II We had three wonderful days at this final camp-site, that is, until I awoke on the second morning. Relief only comes in the morning when both horses are accounted for. Well at about 7:00 a.m. when I peeked out my tent, there was not a horse to be found. I typically kept just one tied as the other grazed. This is easiest on the land. Tied, picketed, high-lined, and even hobbled horses are very destructive to the land. Generally horses don’t leave each other. So with one horse tied the other seldom ventures very far. But Owa was reveling in adventure and Lakota was concerned about Owa’s independence and prolonged absences. As Lakota nervously circled during the wee hours, somehow the knot untied itself and off the two went on yet another adventure; but this one was unplanned. Wolves a Plenty Wolves were re-introduced some dozen years ago into Yellowstone. No one could anticipate how quickly they would propagate. Suffice to say the wolves thrived as they honed their hunting skills on the abundant game. I heard a pack delightfully howling their songs that signify a successful hunt that very morning. With one horse on a lead that could hang up on anything and one very naive horse, my heart was in my throat. Horses are absolutely fair game for wolves. While there has never been a recorded attack on a human, I wasn’t so sure about my horses and feared the worse. The ranger station was five miles away and that made the most sense since that’s where we’d parked and walked in from. I also wanted to confer with the knowledgeable rangers who had no doubt encountered this situation prior to my embarrassing moment. So off I went, worried, flustered, and very nervous. That nervous energy carried me those five miles at a good pace. Rounding a bend as I dropped into a creek bottom, I suddenly heard a commotion in front of me and caught a glimpse of two dark objects through the heavy cover. Hearing a very odd sound, suddenly a jet-black cub scampered up a perfectly straight lodge-pole about twenty yards to my right as mom stood up to assess me. The cub was safe. That was her first concern. Now she had to deal with me and she did so quite assertively. Making deep groaning sounds, she had my attention as she stood on her two hind legs and peered intently at me. I waved my arms and shouted at her, but she held her ground and even took some steps toward me. She was right in the trail, so I side-stepped away from her, giving her plenty of room and eased by. She kept a very close eye on me as I walked off. The ranger station was only another mile or so and I was there in no time. I immediately announced my plight to the ranger on duty, a new less-experienced young man who was busy enrolling campers and doing paperwork . . . so I was on hold. Several minutes later the head ranger drove up and we had a brief conversation. “Have to pick up their tracks,” Dave Ross informed me. “They do have shoes on, right?” “They’re not shod Dave.” “That’ll make it tougher tracking Frank. But they’ll show up . . . at least they always seem to,” replied the unruffled ranger. “I’m a little worried about the wolves. One horse has a halter and lead that he’s dragging. The lead could easily get caught and he’d be wolf bait in seconds. And they were yipping it up and howling like on a fresh kill early this morning, only a couple hours ago,” I added with a worried tone. “Well I’ve never heard of that, but you are right. Horses would be on a wolf’s menu. I do think a horse would put up a real good fight. But then if the one on the lead did get entangled . . . hmmmmmm,” Dave supplied as he drifted into deeper thought. “Hey, I’ve got to oversee getting this hay delivery unloaded Frank. Then we’ll deal with this.” Dave Ross was a very cool head. He knew all about putting out fires, since that is what his job entailed. Being a park ranger in peak season meant dealing with the unforeseeable all day long. And his relaxed attitude helped me chill out. So I took off my shoes and aired my feet and waited. About fifteen minutes passed before a hiker yelled out, “Hey there are a two loose horses down here.” And I was relieved beyond belief. My boys were ok. I jumped on Lakota’s back and we started the five miles to camp. But a couple hundred yards of twenty-one year old sharp backbone was enough torture for me to walk the rest of the way. At 12:30 p.m. the three of us reached camp just as we’d left it. With ten miles under my belt by the middle of the day, I had no intention of doing much that afternoon aside from reading and a nap or two. The next day after a couple hours of fishing, we loaded up and walked out. Now Lakota can walk, really walk. When he wants go get somewhere, like home, he almost has a gaited walk and we just fly. Could Owa keep up? You bet. In fact I watched our time and distance very closely and we made better than 4 mph, which is a real fast pace at a walk. I’d always suspected he had some gaited horse in his breeding. Now, after just flying out of there, it was all making sense.
That First Ride Out. The Moment of Truth/ AKA- Pee Wee’s Big Adventure Owyhee was ready for his first ride out. But I had to be very careful. This had to be done right. That first ride can be a huge confidence booster, or it can be shear disaster. There is only one first ride. It can be a non-event or a rodeo. I prefer the former, but am imminently prepared for the latter. Did I have my bases covered with this horse that I’d grown so attached to? As Judy tacked up Lakota, I prepared Owa for his first big adventure with me on his back. We’d done endless rides out, me on Lakota with Owa running beside us, in absolute rapture. I’d take these two guys out and have the thrill of my life every time we rode. Hide and seek, with Owa he running flat stick up to us, and stopping and twisting and kicking his legs into the air with shear delight and exuberance. Magic. But today was very different. None of that twisting and kicking up. Oh no, just a nice quiet ride through the winding roads behind my place, then maybe out into the fields below my little piece of heaven that sat facing the most photographed mountains in the world, the Tetons. I did my groundwork with Owa disengaging his hind end real well, a little flag work, and then backed him with gusto and got on. He was calm and gave his head freely in each direction, flexed vertically and off we walked down the driveway . . . at a very nice clip. 100 yards down the drive we did a couple one rein stops in my parking area. I felt under me a very compliant, but eager student. He needed a job now. So once Judy and Lakota caught up, again I pointed Owa down the drive and then up the lane to the right past the Wall of Trees, the name I have for this perfectly straight line of lodge pole pine just at the edge of the road. We were just flying along! This horse had a walk that was simply ground-eating. Something gaited in there. But we were smoking along way out in front of Lakota who walks out well by his own right. At the corner it was time for a one rein stop into the tall delicious late summer forage, and I allowed Owa to take a mouthful of luscious seed-head. He was completely absorbed and happy and so was I. Judy and my Son Lakota arrived and off we went down a two-track with aspens and lodge poles and heavy undergrowth that harbors Ruffed grouse, raccoons, skunks, and foxes under a thick overhead canopy of mid summer greens and browns. Glorious. The horse was awesome. He was forward and confident and eager and curious all at the same time. Point him at anything and with just a little reassurance, he was there. It was beyond magic. Up a steep, rock strewn hill that Lakota would pick his way through delicately, but Owa just ate that grade right up, ignoring the uncomfortable rocks beneath his uneducated feet. Breathing hard. Working hard. Getting really winded. Really out of shape. His breeding wasn’t even close to Lakota’s more high-strung Anglo/Arab energy. Owa was probably a combination of quarter, draft, and gaited horse. We followed the road around for a good distance, and then coming around a corner saw some commotion up ahead at a friend’s place. A gathering of people, dogs, bikes, four-wheelers and cars. Hummmmmmmmm. “How is Owa going to handle this,” I asked myself. “He’ll let me know,” I assured myself as we closed in on this motley bunch that had by now seen us riding up on them. Cameras snapped away. “Frank on his wild one that even he can’t seem to tame. By golly he’s on Owyhee,” they spoke among themselves. These were some of my neighbors who had come to know and love this horse over the last few years. What a feeling as we rode right up to them just as quietly as if old Owa had been doing this 100 years! Dogs everywhere. Four wheelers starting next to us, cars driving up. It was a complete circus and Owa just took it all in as Mr. Cool. I could not believe it. What a proud Papa I was! Into the Fields of Barley We bid farewell and then followed the road back the land adjacent to my place, a ride me and the boys had taken dozens of times during the summer. The glaciers were kind to this little area in which I lived, with gently sloping hills and rolling country everywhere you looked. The footing was fabulous and there were no groundhog or gopher holes to worry about. With rolling fields of grasses and cultivated barley as far as the eye could see, some of it chest high on me, it reached well up over the bellies of the horses. Owa was just lit up and so excited to be doing this. His energy was boundless, but controlled. When I felt this excitement of the first ride build a little too high, we would head straight up-hill again, burning off that boundless mustang energy. We stood in the tall grass, framed by the Tetons in the background for a good long time as the horses feasted without even dropping their heads. There was a peaceful content energy about all of us. Judy and Lakota were well matched and perfect baby sitters for this first ride. After a few minutes I pointed Owa up a moderate hill through this wonderful bed of mid summer abundance that reached his shoulders. In the background rose the Tetons and it seemed a wonderfully fitting time for a photo. Thankfully Judy complied and I have a memento of that, Owahee’s first ride. We then rode over to an old rundown homestead a half mile to the west and followed a two-track for another half mile or so. From there we turned into the aspens, toward home. Fingers of heavy cover threaded into the rich fields of this bountiful land. The Lodgepole pine, aspen, hawthorne berry, chokecherry, and snow-berries that the grouse so loved gave us plenty to work with. We wound through this maze of life as I used my whole body to communicate my desires, encouragement, and assurance all the way home. When we got back I gave him a whole lot of loving. I really praised him and stoked his wet back with my fingernails, working deeply into his muscles. You see we had a deal now. We’d just come so far so fast and without fanfare. And he had know. So we talked it over as I loved on him from deep within my soul. This was a huge accomplishment for me, personally, and professionally. And it was, as well, a huge accomplishment for Owyhee That success under my belt in mid-August, I was walking on air, but also knew that Owa would have to be brought along very consciously. One mistake. One sudden surprise. One bolt, leaving me in the air momentarily, then on the ground could set us back, way back. But we had to progress. My mind played games as I came up with endless ideas and set goals, some well thought out, and some arose out of sudden and shear inspiration. At this point in my career I had started dozens of horses, but finished few. I understood the initial gentling as well as anyone, or so I thought. But where to go from here? Two of my closest neighbors had expressed interest in learning to ride. Could I teach them well enough to accompany Owa and me on some training rides? This was a bit of a dicey situation that set my nerves on edge, but something deep inside pushed me in that direction. Lakota Baby-sits Mike and Russ Starting with groundwork, I coached these two middle aged men through the basics. Lakota understood the program exceptionally well. As these guys communicated their wishes awkwardly, Lakota readily complied and was often several steps ahead of them. You see by now Lakota had evolved into a trusted lesson horse and had proved himself earlier in the summer, minding his p’s and q’s with two young girls in the security of my round pen. I was confident he could handle this challenge, and he did so with flying colors. Russ had just turned fifty and was a good athlete, very nimble, alert, and inquisitive. He was also a bit of a speed demon with his snow machine and even pushed the limit in a golf cart. So I had to squelch that tendancy since Lakota, even at his age, still loved to run. That combination of thoroughbred and Arabian blood just never seemed to dissipate. Mike was in his mid-60’s and less eager to go fast. Mounting wasn’t easy for Mike, yet Lakota exhibited amazing patience, as he could duck out in a millisecond and leave Mike on the ground. But Lakota seemed to grasp the concept and I firmly believe he was ready for Owa to join our fun rides. He had morphed into one heck of a lesson horse. By the end of August Owa, his green riders, I had close to a dozen rides under our belts, all close to home. Owa had performed like a champ and I was ready to present him with his next challenge, a day trip into Yellowstone. Mike was ready for this adventure, so watching the weather, we trailered the thirty miles into my backyard that happens to be my favorite place on the planet. The backcountry of Yellowstone is wild and remote. Anything can happen. There are black and grizzly bears alike. Moose, elk, and deer can suddenly startle a horse into flight-mode. A moose is a terrifying sight for a horse. The configuration of this awkward animal seems to send most horses right into overload. And this did worry me. It is almost a predictable encounter in Yellowstone, and I simply had no idea how Owa would react. Even Lakota panicked at the sight or whiff of a moose, even after close to twenty years. Llamas and Backpackers Too! Llamas are commonly used as pack animals in Yellowstone. If not exposed to these exotic creatures, they too can send a horse into overload. And finally, until a horse has been exposed to backpackers, this too can be traumatic. Once the hiker speaks, then the horse understands what this very odd, moving shape is. The point is, there are a plethora of surprises that could easily be encountered and of course there was a tinge of predictable nervousness in my psyche. From the parking lot we walked about a quarter mile into the woods before mounting up. I wanted to take the edge off Owa and religiously did my groundwork. And then we were off . . . like a shot. Owa was so excited to be on the payroll earning his keep as he gaited along at his four mph single-foot walk. I mean he was just smoking along. Time after time we had to stop and wait for Mike and Lakota to catch up. The wild creatures that I knew were lurking at the edge of the woods stayed out of sight and we reached the first ford over a good-sized creek in short-order. Owa had no interest in leading the way so Mike pointed Lakota toward the other side and Owa hesitantly followed. With the water just below my stirrups and almost touching his belly, we stopped for a cool drink in the middle. As Lakota quietly drank, Owa indulged himself with a loud slurping sound that put a smile on our faces. “He’s a slurper Frank,” Mike remarked with a wink. “I’m just so proud of this horse. He’s just having a ball. I think he’s been waiting for this moment for a long time. He just wasn’t ready mentally and maybe I wasn’t either,” I reflected. Then Owa confidently started pawing the water playfully. What a joyful horse this one! We rode another half mile through tall meadow grasses into a group of lodge pole pines, unsaddled, tied off Lakota, and allowed Owa to graze freely. After assembling fishing gear we headed over to the river as Owa ventured to the perimeter of the trees and sampled the finest grasses in the world. When he explored out too far, Lakota would coax him back with a firm whiney in his paternal way. I set Mike up for this challenging fishing and hurried upstream chasing wily brown and brook trout. Three hours whizzed right by in no time and later, in the waning afternoon sun we regrouped back with the horses to tack up and ride the five miles back to civilization. And that is when the real fun began. Owa and Lakota sensed the homeward leg of the trip and their excitement bounced off each other until Owa was unmanageable. I circled him down to a stop and dismounted. He was just too high to ride, so we walked next to Mike and Lakota as far as the creek we’d come across earlier in the day. I mounted Owa, predicting he would settle for the crossing and I was right. While he was still pretty charged up about going home, the energy now was manageable. That fast walk forced the seasoned Lakota to kick it into gear and we were back at the ranger station in no time. Success! Our Solo Sleep-over My goals with Owyhee were constantly changing, depending on his progress. With this last trip under our belt, I set my sights on a multi-day trip back into my haunt, leaving big brother Lakota at the ranch. A week later it was reality. I provisioned for the four day trip and organized all the gear the previous night. With a tent, sleeping bag, cooking and fishing gear, and minimal clothing, we loaded up in the morning in early September for our next adventure. Owa was a champ. He accepted the large saddle bags and off we went toward our first camp-site about six miles away in the interior of the park. I noted the time and distance and again, was amazed at his remarkably fast pace, as the ground just flew by. Occasionally he would get side-tracked and stop or wander off the trail as his mind seemed to pull him away from his task. But with a little encouragement and a circle or two, we would be underway again. We camped at the same site of the earlier trip with Lakota. I wanted familiar territory for him and he seemed to ease right into the routine of being tied on a lead all of the time. I kept him on a twenty foot thick cotton lead and while he did get into trouble from time to time, for the most part he figured it right out and stay untangled. I’d been down the same road with Lakota almost twenty years earlier and had a good idea of what to expect. The sun was setting early as we eased into fall and I was in bed asleep with Owa tied to an old fallen tree with ample grass for him to graze to his heart’s content. We’d had an unusually wet summer so the fall grasses were more than ample. With a half moon and a warm night, I checked my boy in the wee hours. He was doing well, though did seem pleased to greet me, as always. The following morning broke cool and crisp and after a good breakfast, Owa and I went exploring. We eased into the river at the wide ford crossing. Owa slurped deeply from the cold fast moving river, and then tramped across and up the bank on the other side. His energy was palatable with his eager ears and pace on fast forward. He just reeked a sense of adventure and trust in me. Knowing full-well that I needed to take the edge off we headed for the hills. There was a long gradual uphill grade that led to a series of stepped hills that led into higher mountains. The footing was excellent with the odd rock here and there. But as we climbed, the areas of scree and small boulders became more pronounced. Owa and I weaved uphill thru these craggy areas, trying to avoid the really rough footing. His energy seemed boundless and I quickly realized that I wasn’t going to wear him out anytime soon. I knew this country well after thirty-two years of summer and fall trips. It is a special part of my world, filled with rivers and creeks, waterfalls and endless meadows. I knew the trails and decided on heading in a direction I hadn’t explored in sometime. I also knew there were numerous small creek-crossings with mud on either side. And I had no idea how Owa would handle these challenges, but decided it was a good day to find out. We traversed back down through the rolling hills weaving through the rocky areas until we intersected the trail that I had in mind. Owa was all business and once on the trail just floated along, ears forward, ready for anything, that is, until we encountered that first creek. While we had crossed some larger creek and rivers, this new challenge was different for him. He put on the brakes and just didn’t want to have anything to do with that first small creek that rushed down off the hillside lined with slick mud on both sides. It was a steep embankment down into the water and try as I did to coax Owa, he kept finding ways to evade the narrow trail into the water. Finally I dismounted and untied my twelve foot lead. I scampered across and urged him down into the water, but he had a real issue with the steep bank and rushing water. The creek was only eight feet wide, but might as well been a hundred. I found my way back across and had a good session, relaxing him and regrouping. Failure was not an option. We had to overcome this obstacle since we had many more crossings in front of us that day. Once settled and more relaxed, I started anew and asked for much less. I simply needed an effort by Owa to approach the water down through a steep narrow well-worn path. Back and forth he moved along the bank avoiding the entrance into the water. But patience did eventually prevail as he gave me that first try. I loved him up with gusto and the next steps followed as he very slowly placed one hesitant foot after another down the steep bank. The mud was slick and the water rushing by fast. He sniffed and pawed and stalled and then finally took that first step into the mud at the edge; then another . . . and another until he was right smack dab in the middle of the creek, which is exactly where I wanted him. If he could learn to relax and hang there for a few moments, then the next creek might not be such a big deal. And it worked. He settled down, lowered his head and drank from the cool water as the lemon turned into lemonade. Voila! I felt a huge success for both of us. I mounted Owa on the other side and off we went. He just seemed full of pride, that is until we arrived at the next creek. More of the same, but this time it took half the time and I didn’t have to dismount. And so it went. We rode up onto one small creek after another, and while each presented a challenge, each became less so. After four or five miles of winding trail and steep hills, we stopped for a breather. I found a fine cool meadow of tall untouched fall timothy and dismounted. I laid down in the shade and allowed my son to graze the sumptuous grasses. I dozed off for a moment but awoke to a loud snort as Owa focused uphill, his attention very pointed. I heard some small scree sliding downhill through one of the rock-slides and knew full-well that a good-sized animal had just kicked up the disturbance. The trip back to our camp was a completely different experience. Owa didn’t even hesitate at the numerous creek crossings. He entered each one confidently and sure-footed. At the ford of the big river he literally charged into the deep water. Hikers on the other side took pictures as we approached. I just couldn’t have been more proud of my mustang! We stayed at this first campsite for two nights. I fished a good part of each day as Owa held down camp. We explored different areas each day and he progressed at an amazing pace. The morning of the third day brought new adventure. Our next site was about three miles to the north. The trail wound through rich meadows and thick forests and again, any number of critters could be encountered. We left camp in the cool of the morning as I had one special place to revisit- a hot springs at the base of a glorious waterfall. But the trail up to the springs wasn’t an easy one. It was steep and boulder strewn, and I just wasn’t sure how well Owa would accept this next challenge. En route we encountered the same gang of hikers we’d seen on the river the first day. They were coming down from the springs and assured me complete privacy in the hot-pot. One middle-aged lady was really taken with Owa. “Mind if I stroke him a bit,” she asked me? “Go right ahead. He loves people and doesn’t know a stranger,” I assured. She moved slowly up to Owa and extended her hand. But he seemed nervous. I really couldn’t understand this behavior and he suddenly whirled a 180 degrees and we were instantly twenty feet away facing the opposite direction. How I stayed on I’ll never know. I must have had a very deep seat as I hardly even lost balance. “Wow. I sure didn’t see that coming. Sorry about that. I guess he really wasn’t quite ready,” I explained in shear surprise. We bid farewell and smoked on up the trail, again crossing a half dozen creeks en route to the falls and springs. I pondered the event that had just passed and was completely perplexed at Owa’s behavior. In hindsight I believe her eye contact had been way too severe and focused on him, and he felt threatened. It sure took my by surprise and gave new meaning to his agility and speed. After all, he was a wild animal. Owa scampered up the trail like a veteran and just gobbled up the hills with his boundless energy. At the end of the trail I tied him off to a stout tree. “Now I’m going to be gone for awhile Big Dog. You behave yourself. I’ll be back in a little while,” I assured my son. I picked my way down a steep embankment to the creek and then up to the well-formed pool that laid in a haze of steam that wafted off the warm water. The day was still cool and the water just felt wonderful as I eased into the very welcome water. As my bones absorbed the heat deeply, I again reveled in the partnership that was becoming more solid by the minute. I was truly living my dream. After my very satisfying bath I scrambled back up the steep trail to find Owa just patiently waiting for me as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He hadn’t stressed out one bit and acted like he’d been doing this type of thing his entire life. We picked our way back down the steep trail and on to the camp we’d stayed with Lakota earlier in the summer. It was familiar territory and once unpacked, Owa settled right into his breakfast of rich grass as he worked off a drag-line attached to a substantial lodge pole laying on the ground. He was getting good at this routine and worked his circle of confinement like an old pro. I set up camp, ate a quick late breakfast, then eased into the shade with my book. A nap was in my near future and after only a few pages drifted into a wonderfully satisfying snooze. Later, as the day stretched on, I caught a small brown trout, just perfect eating size. Wrapped in tin foil with lemon and ginger, some spices, and a side of tabouli with fresh mint picked right from creek-side, well, I was at the top of my game. The next morning had a foreboding feeling. It was cloudy and way too warm. I was a bit worn out with a low energy level and after reading for awhile, decided I was ready to head home. Truth be known, I’d reached a place in my book and knew the ending. I’d read the book years earlier. Everything added up to packing up and riding the seven miles back to the ranger station. I as well relished the idea of being in my own bed that evening. And Owa also seemed ready. He had performed like a champ. I just couldn’t ask for more. We had accomplished exactly what I’d set out to do. With a sense of great satisfaction we cruised right out, again at a ground-eating pace of about four miles per hour at the walk!
Frank Bell and his accredited instructors have been helping horses with their people problems for several decades. He writes interesting and educational stories about these horses and their challenges. He also helps people better understand how to communicate with these magnificent creatures by answering their vexing questions on his website. Frank has designed a logical set of exercises that immediately places both parties on higher ground . . . without the need for a round pen. Suddenly both parties are riding in confidence instead of fear. Frank Bell's 7-Step Safety System (7-SSS) has been featured in horse magazines and e-zines throughout the world including a three-part series in Western Horseman magazine. Frank's video " Discover the Horse You Never Knew" fully outlines " the system" and is available in the audio/video library that includes thirteen works.
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