Avoiding Collisions

I have only been tagging Ole Dangerous around about five years. So, I have to believe him when he tells me that back country traffic has increased. Supposedly, 30 years ago he wandered the Escalante River and rarely saw another rider or hiker. He tells me that he was pushed off the Uinta National Forest by ATVs and bikes. According to him, you can hear an ATV coming, but you don't want to meet a biker coming down a steep grade looking at his front tire with his ear phones plugged in. I have been there when he's explained to mountain bikers that having an 1,100 lb. horse land on them doesn't usually end well. I don't help a lot, but who can blame a sheep dog for joining in the action. Barking at fast moving ATVs and bikes is fun, and when you throw in a lunging, bucking horse it's even more exciting. Horse and rider usually survive, but the bike and rider don't. Most mountain bikers ignore Dangerous' appeals and pedal on after plugging their ear phones back in. Fortunately, the High Plateau has lots of steep, rocky trails that discourage potential conflict with wheeled travelers.

I am not sure what the answer is, but Ole Dangerous can't retreat much further. The High Plateau is probably his last stand. Dangerous tells me that he frequently hears conflicting groups say, "...can't we all just get along." I am not sure that's possible. Maybe those who pursue the quiet sports like biking, hiking, and horse riding can work something out, but it will require improved communications and trail manners. It's really hard to explain to someone on an ATV or motorcycle that you don't want to eat their dust or listen to their noise. You especially don't want to look at the four foot wide swaths cut across the landscape that they call "trails." If you have some answers, let me know. I might be able to calm Ole Dangerous down, and pass your suggestions along to others.

High Plateau Fashions

I guess I am lucky. Ole' Dangerous pays to have my hair done twice a year to get rid of the burrs and dingle berries. However, these trips to the groomer don't include a change of duds. Traveling the High Plateau, I see all kinds of outfits. These fashion statements usually tell you a lot about the person and their interests. Hikers are usually decked out in REI's finest with shorts or long pants that become shorts with the pull of a zipper. Mountain bikers have those cute spandex outfits with padded butts. Not bad on girls, but the men look silly. ATV riders usually sport Cabella's latest camouflage which really does little to hide their noisy machines. My buddies can come up with some of the strangest outfits seen on the High Plateau. Utah Jack has tried the redneck look with sign and bath tub to attract women. Fremont Bob occasionally wears wolf man headgear to become part of the pack. And, probably the worst is Ole Dangerous himself trying to pass as a cowboy. As you can see, the hat is too big and his neck is too short. All of you should follow my lead and head to the groomer twice a year to get the burrs and dingle berries removed and forget those fashion statements.

Boots and Paws

Ole Dangerous and I don't spend all our time riding horses. Well, he rides, and I trot along behind. Even at his advanced years, he still occasionally puts on his outdated backpack, and loads me up with extra water and dog food. As you can tell we aren't REI fashion slaves. Dangerous wears his usual redneck outfit -- blue jeans and ball cap. I am stuck with the same outfit where ever we go. We do get some interesting looks from current generation backpackers. Ole Dangerous' hearing isn't so good, but I can hear those young upstarts asking each other how that old guy with the external frame pack and Russian Olive hiking stick got so far into the back country. If I could, I would explain that it isn't age and equipment that gets you in and out of the wilderness. You have to want to be there. From what I understand, the deaf old boy I hike with has been doing it for over 30 years. And, I suspect that you can tell from the picture why he continues plodding along. Here's to 30 more years.

Sadie and Blue

You might think my only friends are horses and men. Actually, I get to hang out with two interesting canines. After tagging them for a week, Ole' Dangerous usually enrolls me in obedience school.

Sadie and Blue, I think you can figure out who is who from the picture, are well known across the entire High Plateau. As you can see, they will eat about anything. They are discussing who gets the best antelope hide tidbits. You never know what they will find. When they aren't scavenging for tasty morsels, they are usually tracking four legged creatures. Fortunately, they have never caught anything, but lack of success hasn't stopped them from trying. A refined Aussie like myself can learn a lot from these back country travelers. I learned real fast not to get between Blue and anything that resembles food. If you think these two are interesting, wait till I introduce you to the guy they hang out with -- Fremont Bob.

An Actual Trail

In my opinion, a lot of confusion exists about trail designations on public lands. More and more trails are being converted to roads for motorized use. Sometimes the conversion occurs through legal processes, but more frequently, trails become roads through illegal off-road use. Since public land manager have few if any resources for enforcement, the conversion continues at an ever increasing pace. The public is generally unaware because most people don't travel very far from the pavement and into the back country. If they followed along with me and my buddies, they could see first hand the changes that are happening. Maybe they wouldn't be taken in when someone talks about developing more "trails" for public use if they saw for themselves. Horse riders and hikers are finding fewer and fewer places to ride and hike in peace and quiet.

Without places for horsemen and hikers, conflict with motorized users is inevitable. I have had a front row seat on a bunch of occasions when Ole' Dangerous Doug and his buddies have met ATV riders who don't know much about trail etiquette. A while back, Dangerous forgot to let me out of my pen in the back of his truck. He started back and met an ATV rider coming up the "trail." As I mentioned, Dottie, his Walking Horse mare has a tendency to spin when spooked. Well, I got to watch Dottie spin backwards around the ATV and its rider while Ole' Dangerous shouted in some very colorful language for the ATV rider to shut off his machine. By the time he turned it off, Dottie was sitting on his handle bars. Dangerous maintained his seat, and the ATV rider had eyes as big as saucers.

Let's do what we can to keep the few trails left from being converted to roads, and work with motorized users to understand that a 1,100 pound horse has a mind of its own.

Working Sheep Dog

You might think that all I do is bum around with my buddy Dangerous Doug (DD) while he rides and hikes. Talk to his wife, and she will tell you that's about all we do. However, once in a while we are pressed into work. Ole' Dangerous swaps animal tending duties with his long time riding buddy Kent. Since there are sheep involved, I sometimes get to help. Unfortunately, DD is a better wanderer than herder as the following letter explains. Kent now calls on me when he needs someone to watch his sheep.

October 13, 2006

Kent,

Since I won't be around to greet you and Diane, I thought I should leave a report -- a farm stewardship report. As you probably already know, I have been accused of poor farm management.

It has been reported that I killed Les's sheep. Well, that's the way Les is telling the story, but I thought he was a pretty sorry sheep the day we picked him up. You might have been facing a Hawaiian earth quake, but I had to bury a 200 pound sheep. The Miller's and your other neighbors were grateful that the weather was cold and that I had a shovel. However, they weren't interested in helping with Jack's funeral. Jack is the name I gave the buck. I thought Jack was an appropriate name for an old buck turned out with a bunch of young ewes. Your neighbor was going to play golf. I asked him to hang around to dedicate the grave, but he thought I was trying to con him into shovel work. I tried your kids without success. Eric told me to bury him where he fell, and that's what I did. Jenny called after I had already planted him and offered to help. I thought about calling Paul, but I didn't have his number in Finland. Since the other two are military officers, I knew they wouldn't know how to use a shovel. I know how kids are. As you know I have two.

Burying the sheep wasn't as bad as breaking the news to Less. He was heart broken over the loss and agreed to help me with the funeral arrangements. By the way, he mentioned something about the sheep costing $1,500 at the auction, but I thought I would let you work that out with him. Les arrived about the time I had the grave dug. He will probably want credit for our work, but it was me that insisted that Jack's life earned him something more than a shallow hole. Les figured the hole was deep enough, but I didn't want Jack's pointy feet sticking out of the ground through the eternities. Les suggested that we cut off his legs to save digging, but out of respect for the dead I insisted on a deeper hole. I will admit that I made the mistake of putting him into the ground with his head facing west. I take full responsibility for him wandering around confused on the morning of the first resurrection even though Les is a former Bishop and should have caught my mistake.

Don't be confused by the buck wandering your pasture. No matter what people say the dead don't come back to life. Les felt so badly for your ewes that he found you another buck. I call this one Doug because he jumped directly into action when we unloaded him from my horse trailer. Be careful with this one. He belongs to a rich guy in Alpine, and wants Doug back alive. If this one dies, you might have to move permanently to Hawaii.

I have to own up to another farming indiscretion. You had a raccoon in your live trap, and guess what? I let him go. I didn't have the heart to shoot him, and I didn't want to watch him die of thrist, so he got a second chance. I know! I don't have the intellect or skills to be a farmer. I don't even think I could herd sheep if I owned a smart dog. (I heard that, Rosie)

The last I looked Hawk was still alive. If he had died, I don't think the Gunthers would have let me bury him where he fell. If i had killed him too, I thought about hooking a chain around him and towing him to Hansen's place. As alert as Hansen is, he probably wouldn't have noticed until the Gunthers, Taylors, or Greenwoods caught a deep whiff of decomposition.

Well I am glad that you made it back safe. When I return from Grover, I will want to hear all about your Hawaii trip. How did the cutoff Levis work on the beach? Did your temple garments hanging out the legs give you away as a lapsed Mormon?

Talk with you Saturday,

Doug

Vistors

Visitors join us from all over the world. One of the better educated traveled all the way from Jackson, Mississippi to sit a horse, receive unending abuse, and write some cowboy poetry. It isn't often that anyone leaves more than their business card in the outhouse let alone a cowboy poem about their experience. Mississippi Max isn't a bad rider and is pretty good porch company. He held his own with the best and worst of the bunch who spends time riding and hiking with me and my buddies. He even mentions me in his tribute to Riding the High Plateau.

Grover Boys

This is the tale of Dangerous Doug and his sidekick Utah Jack
Who ride the Boulder Mountain trails with horses and with pack
They're real outlaws, make no mistake, they ride their saddles tall
Though Utah rides an Appy horse that seems a little small
But that's beside the point, I guess, cause Doug he rides a mare
That spins him at the strangest times and leaves him in the air

Ole Utah says the Appy is Arabian by birth
"He's just incognito," straight face, no sign of mirth
"That short neck is his disguise, those spots are painted on
We've cut four inches from his hooves, tail plucked until its gone
Those broad hips are padded, and we've shortened up his back
But he's full Arabian, and that's a natural fact!"

Doug's classy little walking mare, what stories she could tell
About Doug's way with horses and the things he does so well
But then she takes him for a spin and flings him to the ground
A rich string of expletives, can be heard for miles around
Truth be known I think she spins just to hear him cuss
Why else would she be so sweet and then make such a fuss?

They have a little cabin, hidden in the pinon pines
Where neighbors are all welcome, though there are some "Keep Out" signs
There's Fremont River Bob and his young mule Hemingway
And Mike who runs the foundry, pouring molds for those who'll pay
There's Ole Ross the Wrangler and his wife Mindy too
And son Kyle whose hats are large for a little buckaroo

These citizens of Grover with smiles upon each face
Know there'll be some tall tales told when they open up the place
Dangerous Doug and Utah Jack, they come to ride each peak
But that's not all that Dixie's for, that's not all that they seek
They also like the company of good folks tried and true
Who'll let them just be outlaws and cook a good camp stew

Now this is not to say that they don't ride the range
They'll ride 'till you get "monkey butt" and give you back some change
They ride among the Aspen and by the alpine lake
Through the grassy meadows, whatever it may take
Up the rocky mountainside,through Juniper and pine
Along the sparkling mountain stream, their horses beating time

But be careful when you're asked to ride across a recent burn
Or you'll be cutting dead fall, they'll gladly give a turn
They're loathe to stop and turn around before they reach the top
So get your sawing arm in shape before you make this stop
The sawing is really not so bad, if you take it all in stride
But needing oxygen at altitude is something you can't hide

They ride Aquarius plateau, the antelope to chase
They ride to see Dark Valley at a gentle, easy pace
With Rose and Blue and Sadie, faithful friends to run ahead
There are miles to go and things to see before its time for bed
But the miles go all too quickly and the ride is over soon
So they sit up on the porch and gaze upon the moon

If you're ever down in Grover and you feel a bit laid back
Just look up Ole Dangerous and his friend Utah Jack
Chances are they're getting saddles and grooming up their mounts
And living life quite large and isn't that what counts?
You may be asked to come along as they set out on the trail
There's just one rule "No Whining," if you get the monkey tail!

Max Arinder
June 15-June 21, 200
Riding Trip, Grover, UT