What a ride! It must be said that the most memorable rides aren't
necessary the most fun rides, and today was certainly a case in point.
Today was a day of many firsts, several losses, lots of close calls and
countless spectacular views. We began by entering the National Park and
driving down to the parking area across from the entrance to the
campground, where there was a trailhead to the Buckhorn Trail, our trail
for the day. After quickly saddling up, we headed across grassland,
doing our best to follow the trail, but there seemed to be countless
variations, and no sure direction. We made our way until a marker,
essentially a post in the ground with an unreadable plate on it, so we
figured we must be going the right way. I had brought my GPS and
created a map of the trail, but in several places, the hard copy map
which I had overlaid on Google Earth didn't completely match the red
trail markers already placed on Google Earth, so I split the difference
on my GPS map. As time went on, though, it seemed some sections of the
trail were a moving target. Anyway, we made our first small climb, a
ravine about 20 feet high, the first of many we were to make today. As
we crossed the grasslands, we were faced with many small ravines,
steeper and deeper than a simple creek crossing, and probably narrow
enough for a hunter to jump over, but we aren't riding hunters so we had
to persuade our horses to essentially drop into a pit and climb back
out again. Just as they were starting to get used to that, we came to
another deep ravine, this one probably 15-18 feet deep, down and up.
Just as we got to the top, and I was just getting Apollo ready to head
down, suddenly his head went up, his nose flared and he snorted in
defense mode, because about 20 yards beyond the top of the opposite side
of the ravine was a great big buffalo. Even though he had mostly
gotten over his anxiety about cows, apparently a buffalo is a completely
different matter. Needless to say, Apollo wheeled around, wanting no
part of it, and Clio followed suit. We spent the next 15-20 minutes
trying to settle them down, though they were truly in flight mode. We
tried to find another way around, but there wasn't one. After staring
at the buffalo for some time, they eventually weren't quite so frantic
(the buffalo was ignoring them completely), they got a tad bit quieter.
Fortunately, the buffalo started moving away a bit, down into another
hollow, and laid down, so it could no longer be seen by the horses
(though obviously the smell was still strong). I managed to persuade
Apollo to go back to the top of the ravine, but I still couldn't get him
down it, so, as a last resort, I got off and walked him down the
ravine. He seemed a bit more calm because I was ignoring the buffalo,
which helped, but of course, he was too anxious for me to get back on
him, so I had to lead him up the ravine. Naturally, he ran past me and
practically dragged me to the top, it was fortunate my Mccarty lead was
just long enough not to throw him off balance, as it was a considerable
drop had he done so. Anyway, I climbed to the top and started walking
past where the buffalo had been (and still was, just off the trail a bit
more than previously), and Hubby and Clio crossed the ravine with no
problem, as usual when we lead the way. I continued to walk for another
100 feet or so, enough to get Apollo settled down, and finally
remounted and continued along the trail. More grasslands, more steep
little arroyos, more uncertainty about which way the trail went, since
the markers were few and far between, and there were uncounted trails
made by the buffalo here. We finally came across a marker and headed
for it, only to discover that just beyond that, and along the trail
where we were headed, was a whole herd of buffalo! Granted, it was a
small herd, but a herd is a lot more imposing that a single buffalo, and
there were young one's around for the bulls to protect, so we had to be
extra careful. Fortunately, they seemed to be heading away from the
intersection (and away from a hiker that evidently was trying to get
closer to them), and that emboldened Apollo a bit (bravest coward I
know, besides my little dog Billy), he was tossing his head at them as
if to say, "So there! I'm not afraid of you anymore!" Of course, that
lasted until the herd saw us, and, like the cows last week, turned
around and headed for us, apparently just out of curiosity. We headed
away from them as best we could, but we were going in the opposite
direction that we wanted so we just went far enough so that the herd
lost interest for the time being. We tried to get around them, but they
just come toward us, but eventually they just started heading down the
trail where we wanted to go, so we hung back and slowly followed them,
stopping every time the bull in the rear turned to look at us, then
starting up again when they resumed their progress. Eventually, the
plain widened out enough, and the horses had settled down enough, so
that we could give them a wide berth and walk around them. It's a good
thing the buffalo walk so slow, it made it possible to get around them
at a walk. Whew! What an experience! By the time we passed the herd,
the horses had apparently gotten over most of their fear, so this was a
big step for them today! Shortly thereafter, we arrived at the Prairie
Dog Town, a wide area full of low growth and scores of little heads and
wagging tails and lots of holes to avoid. We observed them for a while,
very cute and cuddly looking, and the horses only gave them a cursory
look, thank goodness. We stayed on grassy plains for a while, and just
as we were leaving the Prairie Dog Town, we saw a good size fox loping
away from us, apparently disturbing his hunt, though I can't imagine it
would be that difficult to get a meal of prairie dog, considering how
many of them there were. We continued along reaching another steep
arroyo, and just as we were approaching, the head of another big buffalo
appeared at the top of the ravine. If this keeps up, we'll never get
home, we thought! The buffalo started growling (yes, growling!) for a
bit, then swung around and headed away from the ravine, though we could
still hear his growl, albeit further away. We waited a few more minutes
to make sure he was gone, though we couldn't be sure until we got to
the top of the ravine, since we couldn't see past the edge. I finally
headed up, and Apollo was fearless despite having seen that buffalo
there only moments ago, and fortunately, the buffalo had already moved
off a ways, almost out of sight. Well, at this point we lost the trail
again. We didn't know we had, in fact the trail looked clearer here
that in many spots along the way, but afterward, when I compared it on
Google Earth, we definitely got off track. Anyway, we followed what we
THOUGHT was the trail, and that led us to a cliff wall that seemed to
got practically straight up. There were lots of tracks there, though,
so we knew it was possible, but it was definitely a bit heart-stopping
to think of what would happen if someone's hoof slipped. Well,
undaunted, we headed up. Fortunately, it was in a couple of stages, so
we had time to rest in between each stage. At one point, I saw two elk
on an almost invisible narrow trail along the edge of the cliff. I
pointed them out to Hubby, but he only saw one because the other one had
already leaped away. Just before we reached the top, Clio (who was in
front of me at this point) lost one of her boots. There was no way I
could stop on that incline and pick it up, so I waited to the next
stopping point before dismounting, walking back down to get it, and
climbing back up again. I mounted again, and we made it the rest of the
way to the top, when Hubby discovered, that I, too, had lost a boot! We
had no idea where, though, and I wasn't about to climb down this entire
incline looking for it, so we let it go. Too, bad, too, we really
didn't even need boots out here, there's almost no stones or gravel,
it's all dirt and grass. Anyway, we made it to the top safely, that was
the important thing. I should mention that the views in every
direction were spectacular, every time we stopped to take a look. That
just wasn't as often as we liked, since we were so busy handling
everything else. At the top, it turned back into grassland, and we were
able to relax for a short while. Before long, though, we were climbing
down ravines and crossing creeks, at which point we got lost again,
crossing one creek and going left, when we should have crossed the
ravine and gone right, so that was another mistake that took us a half
hour to resolve. At one point, Clio took a misstep and her leg when
into a washed out area of the trail (and by washed out, I mean the
ground had separated, fallen off, and left a drop-off as tall as the
ravine), which made her drop completely to ground level. Hubby got
dumped, but it would have been so easy for Clio to break a leg or
otherwise hurt herself, but she pulled herself out of it and upon close
examination, didn't seem any worse for the wear, though we kept an eye
on here for the rest of the trip. Thank goodness for my GPS!! If it
hadn't been for that, we would never had figured out how to get out of
there, as our "wrong" route took us to a near dead end, with only
extraordinarily dangerous possibilities from there, and frankly, we
weren't ready for that. After retracing our steps for a half mile or
so, we managed to get back to the trail, seeing out mistakes (no trail
markers ANYWHERE to be seen!) and got back on track, climbing yet
another ravine to more grasslands, almost getting lost again before
getting back on track. Finally we found trail markers again, passed yet
another stray buffalo, stopped for lunch and rest, before descending
off the other side of the plateau, often going through trees so thick
and hanging down so low we could barely hang on. Again, more washed out
ravines that were barely passable, but we finally made it down. My GPS
died about halfway down, and I couldn't find the spare batteries
(turned out they were in the saddle bags on my bareback pad back in the
trailer!), Hubby had lost his stainless steel water bottle that we'd had
for a long time (by now we had drank everything else we brought with
us, and were parched, couldn't wait to get to water), plus he lost a
hearing aid somewhere along the trail, probably at one of the three
times he came off Clio during the ride. At last we reached the road,
and followed that for a ways, before venturing off south of the road to
sort of stay on the trail, which would bypass a couple of climbs on the
road. The plains here had several swampy areas, but nothing deep enough
for the horses to drink from. Clio had managed to get a drink from a
puddle earlier, but Apollo hadn't had anything since we left the parking
lot. Finally we reached a bank of the Little Missouri river, and they
had a pretty good drink there. According to where I thought we were on
the map, if we turned due north we should just about run into the
parking lot where we started, but without my GPS, I couldn't be sure.
We turned north anyway, figuring if we got on the road we'd know where
we were, so we did, and discovered we still have about a mile left, up a
hill and down another. By now the sun was getting low, and we were
literally riding off into the sunset. We reached the trailer at last,
gave everyone a good drink, including us, spoke to a passing ranger
about the items we'd lost (he said he'd report it to the lost and
found), loaded up and drove the 10 minutes back to camp. I gave the
horses a good liniment rubdown, extra rations, and lots of hay, settling
them in their rope and pipe corral before we finally settled down for
what little was left of the evening. Pain-killers for all tonight!
What a ride! It must be said that the most memorable rides aren't
necessary the most fun rides, and today was certainly a case in point.
Today was a day of many firsts, several losses, lots of close calls and
countless spectacular views. We began by entering the National Park and
driving down to the parking area across from the entrance to the
campground, where there was a trailhead to the Buckhorn Trail, our trail
for the day. After quickly saddling up, we headed across grassland,
doing our best to follow the trail, but there seemed to be countless
variations, and no sure direction. We made our way until a marker,
essentially a post in the ground with an unreadable plate on it, so we
figured we must be going the right way. I had brought my GPS and
created a map of the trail, but in several places, the hard copy map
which I had overlaid on Google Earth didn't completely match the red
trail markers already placed on Google Earth, so I split the difference
on my GPS map. As time went on, though, it seemed some sections of the
trail were a moving target. Anyway, we made our first small climb, a
ravine about 20 feet high, the first of many we were to make today. As
we crossed the grasslands, we were faced with many small ravines,
steeper and deeper than a simple creek crossing, and probably narrow
enough for a hunter to jump over, but we aren't riding hunters so we had
to persuade our horses to essentially drop into a pit and climb back
out again. Just as they were starting to get used to that, we came to
another deep ravine, this one probably 15-18 feet deep, down and up.
Just as we got to the top, and I was just getting Apollo ready to head
down, suddenly his head went up, his nose flared and he snorted in
defense mode, because about 20 yards beyond the top of the opposite side
of the ravine was a great big buffalo. Even though he had mostly
gotten over his anxiety about cows, apparently a buffalo is a completely
different matter. Needless to say, Apollo wheeled around, wanting no
part of it, and Clio followed suit. We spent the next 15-20 minutes
trying to settle them down, though they were truly in flight mode. We
tried to find another way around, but there wasn't one. After staring
at the buffalo for some time, they eventually weren't quite so frantic
(the buffalo was ignoring them completely), they got a tad bit quieter.
Fortunately, the buffalo started moving away a bit, down into another
hollow, and laid down, so it could no longer be seen by the horses
(though obviously the smell was still strong). I managed to persuade
Apollo to go back to the top of the ravine, but I still couldn't get him
down it, so, as a last resort, I got off and walked him down the
ravine. He seemed a bit more calm because I was ignoring the buffalo,
which helped, but of course, he was too anxious for me to get back on
him, so I had to lead him up the ravine. Naturally, he ran past me and
practically dragged me to the top, it was fortunate my Mccarty lead was
just long enough not to throw him off balance, as it was a considerable
drop had he done so. Anyway, I climbed to the top and started walking
past where the buffalo had been (and still was, just off the trail a bit
more than previously), and Hubby and Clio crossed the ravine with no
problem, as usual when we lead the way. I continued to walk for another
100 feet or so, enough to get Apollo settled down, and finally
remounted and continued along the trail. More grasslands, more steep
little arroyos, more uncertainty about which way the trail went, since
the markers were few and far between, and there were uncounted trails
made by the buffalo here. We finally came across a marker and headed
for it, only to discover that just beyond that, and along the trail
where we were headed, was a whole herd of buffalo! Granted, it was a
small herd, but a herd is a lot more imposing that a single buffalo, and
there were young one's around for the bulls to protect, so we had to be
extra careful. Fortunately, they seemed to be heading away from the
intersection (and away from a hiker that evidently was trying to get
closer to them), and that emboldened Apollo a bit (bravest coward I
know, besides my little dog Billy), he was tossing his head at them as
if to say, "So there! I'm not afraid of you anymore!" Of course, that
lasted until the herd saw us, and, like the cows last week, turned
around and headed for us, apparently just out of curiosity. We headed
away from them as best we could, but we were going in the opposite
direction that we wanted so we just went far enough so that the herd
lost interest for the time being. We tried to get around them, but they
just come toward us, but eventually they just started heading down the
trail where we wanted to go, so we hung back and slowly followed them,
stopping every time the bull in the rear turned to look at us, then
starting up again when they resumed their progress. Eventually, the
plain widened out enough, and the horses had settled down enough, so
that we could give them a wide berth and walk around them. It's a good
thing the buffalo walk so slow, it made it possible to get around them
at a walk. Whew! What an experience! By the time we passed the herd,
the horses had apparently gotten over most of their fear, so this was a
big step for them today! Shortly thereafter, we arrived at the Prairie
Dog Town, a wide area full of low growth and scores of little heads and
wagging tails and lots of holes to avoid. We observed them for a while,
very cute and cuddly looking, and the horses only gave them a cursory
look, thank goodness. We stayed on grassy plains for a while, and just
as we were leaving the Prairie Dog Town, we saw a good size fox loping
away from us, apparently disturbing his hunt, though I can't imagine it
would be that difficult to get a meal of prairie dog, considering how
many of them there were. We continued along reaching another steep
arroyo, and just as we were approaching, the head of another big buffalo
appeared at the top of the ravine. If this keeps up, we'll never get
home, we thought! The buffalo started growling (yes, growling!) for a
bit, then swung around and headed away from the ravine, though we could
still hear his growl, albeit further away. We waited a few more minutes
to make sure he was gone, though we couldn't be sure until we got to
the top of the ravine, since we couldn't see past the edge. I finally
headed up, and Apollo was fearless despite having seen that buffalo
there only moments ago, and fortunately, the buffalo had already moved
off a ways, almost out of sight. Well, at this point we lost the trail
again. We didn't know we had, in fact the trail looked clearer here
that in many spots along the way, but afterward, when I compared it on
Google Earth, we definitely got off track. Anyway, we followed what we
THOUGHT was the trail, and that led us to a cliff wall that seemed to
got practically straight up. There were lots of tracks there, though,
so we knew it was possible, but it was definitely a bit heart-stopping
to think of what would happen if someone's hoof slipped. Well,
undaunted, we headed up. Fortunately, it was in a couple of stages, so
we had time to rest in between each stage. At one point, I saw two elk
on an almost invisible narrow trail along the edge of the cliff. I
pointed them out to Hubby, but he only saw one because the other one had
already leaped away. Just before we reached the top, Clio (who was in
front of me at this point) lost one of her boots. There was no way I
could stop on that incline and pick it up, so I waited to the next
stopping point before dismounting, walking back down to get it, and
climbing back up again. I mounted again, and we made it the rest of the
way to the top, when Hubby discovered, that I, too, had lost a boot! We
had no idea where, though, and I wasn't about to climb down this entire
incline looking for it, so we let it go. Too, bad, too, we really
didn't even need boots out here, there's almost no stones or gravel,
it's all dirt and grass. Anyway, we made it to the top safely, that was
the important thing. I should mention that the views in every
direction were spectacular, every time we stopped to take a look. That
just wasn't as often as we liked, since we were so busy handling
everything else. At the top, it turned back into grassland, and we were
able to relax for a short while. Before long, though, we were climbing
down ravines and crossing creeks, at which point we got lost again,
crossing one creek and going left, when we should have crossed the
ravine and gone right, so that was another mistake that took us a half
hour to resolve. At one point, Clio took a misstep and her leg when
into a washed out area of the trail (and by washed out, I mean the
ground had separated, fallen off, and left a drop-off as tall as the
ravine), which made her drop completely to ground level. Hubby got
dumped, but it would have been so easy for Clio to break a leg or
otherwise hurt herself, but she pulled herself out of it and upon close
examination, didn't seem any worse for the wear, though we kept an eye
on here for the rest of the trip. Thank goodness for my GPS!! If it
hadn't been for that, we would never had figured out how to get out of
there, as our "wrong" route took us to a near dead end, with only
extraordinarily dangerous possibilities from there, and frankly, we
weren't ready for that. After retracing our steps for a half mile or
so, we managed to get back to the trail, seeing out mistakes (no trail
markers ANYWHERE to be seen!) and got back on track, climbing yet
another ravine to more grasslands, almost getting lost again before
getting back on track. Finally we found trail markers again, passed yet
another stray buffalo, stopped for lunch and rest, before descending
off the other side of the plateau, often going through trees so thick
and hanging down so low we could barely hang on. Again, more washed out
ravines that were barely passable, but we finally made it down. My GPS
died about halfway down, and I couldn't find the spare batteries
(turned out they were in the saddle bags on my bareback pad back in the
trailer!), Hubby had lost his stainless steel water bottle that we'd had
for a long time (by now we had drank everything else we brought with
us, and were parched, couldn't wait to get to water), plus he lost a
hearing aid somewhere along the trail, probably at one of the three
times he came off Clio during the ride. At last we reached the road,
and followed that for a ways, before venturing off south of the road to
sort of stay on the trail, which would bypass a couple of climbs on the
road. The plains here had several swampy areas, but nothing deep enough
for the horses to drink from. Clio had managed to get a drink from a
puddle earlier, but Apollo hadn't had anything since we left the parking
lot. Finally we reached a bank of the Little Missouri river, and they
had a pretty good drink there. According to where I thought we were on
the map, if we turned due north we should just about run into the
parking lot where we started, but without my GPS, I couldn't be sure.
We turned north anyway, figuring if we got on the road we'd know where
we were, so we did, and discovered we still have about a mile left, up a
hill and down another. By now the sun was getting low, and we were
literally riding off into the sunset. We reached the trailer at last,
gave everyone a good drink, including us, spoke to a passing ranger
about the items we'd lost (he said he'd report it to the lost and
found), loaded up and drove the 10 minutes back to camp. I gave the
horses a good liniment rubdown, extra rations, and lots of hay, settling
them in their rope and pipe corral before we finally settled down for
what little was left of the evening. Pain-killers for all tonight! 
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