Deep Canyon Hike

There are many trails we only travel on foot. A good mule man like Fremont Bob might ride them, but Dangerous leaves Dottie and Little Guy home and digs out his old external frame pack. He even puts a backpack on me. Like the rest of them, I am expected to carry my own food. I can't complain about packing my own eats, but I do object to carrying the extra water that I don't get to drink. Dangerous thinks the stream is good enough for me. What really gets me is that he makes me carry all the garbage. Now, how fair is that? I don't get to eat any gourmet, freeze-dried food, but I get to carry all the used wrappers.

Dangerous isn't good about sharing the trails he rides and hikes with others, but if you want to know where we go, just ask Utah Jack. I have never known him to keep a secret, but finding him is sometimes a problem. You can probably figure out most of the places we go by studying one of the numerous trail guides published today. Dangerous has hiked them so many times that he rarely consults a map anymore. Even when he did, he wasn't very good at reading directions. With us, we usually talk about up canyon and down canyon. Usually, down canyon means if you walk far enough you will eventually find a road. At his age, all hikes are new to Dangerous. Even the ones he has hiked over and over again.

Dangerous believes that knowing where you are ruins the sense of adventure. Ignoring the trail guide or map gives you the opportunity to discover things for yourself. On occasion, this attitude can lead to near rebellion among Dangerous' hiking friends. They aren't satisfied with his answer that "I am not lost I just don't know where I am right now." I suspect he hasn't known where he is for years, but what do I care. Sheep dogs live in the moment, so I readily accept his explanation.

I really like the deep canyon hikes where there is water and shade. The attached pictures show one of my favorites. According to Dangerous, there are at least four different ways to access this tributary of the Escalante River. So, which one does he usually use? Off course, the dry, steep, sandy route is his preferred alternative because you rarely see any other hikers.

I won't bore you with the long, dry traverse to reach this favorite spot, but Dangerous likes to test first time hikers over this route. They usually show up full of romantic ideas about hiking the red-rock country. After humping their 50 pound packs through heat and sand the romance ends abruptly. They get their reward, however, when they gaze down at the stream, shade, water, and vegetation below them. All they have to do is drop 500 feet down a very steep trail, and they earn their reward.

The canyon floor gives instant relief from the heat and sand. However, reaching the bottom doesn't mean the challenges are over. This canyon is narrow in places and the slick, rocky stream bed can be difficult for sheep dogs and aging hikers to negotiate. There are numerous campsites and places to stop and rest. But, my aging companions have to cross and recross the stream numerous times while trying to stay dry. During wet years, you might have a swim or two. Even during normal years, you get wet. I was walking along enjoying the day when I heard Dangerous let out a horrible shriek. Since he scared of snakes, I thought he had found one. It wasn't one of our slithering friends that caused him to yell like a girl. Dangerous was negotiating a narrow ledge around a deep plunge pool. One more step and he would have been across. As you can guess, he didn't make it. I turned to see his ball cap floating in the pool. He fell in, feet first, pack and all. Fortunately, he didn't lose his glasses, or my role as pack dog would have changed to seeing-eye companion. With a little help, we got him out of the pool, but two steps later he was back in another one. Needless to say, I was a bit embarrassed to be seen with him.

Some of you might want more information about the trails we travel. Drop me a note, and I will see if I can get him to share some information with you. If that fails, track down Utah Jack, and offer him a double-bacon cheeseburger. I am sure that will get him to talk.

"Nature Dan"

For the life of me, I don't understand why people come to Utah to ride and hike with Dangerous and his buddy Utah Jack. They get to see some beautiful country, but they have to put up with a lot. If the unending, nothing is sacred, teasing doesn't get them, Dangerous will blister their butts on horseback by riding them too far, or hike them 'till they drop. These days, more often than not, you will find Dangerous treating his own blisters or resting by the side of the trail.

A few intrepid souls like "Nature Dan" return year after year to face the psychological and physical punishment Dangerous and Utah dish out. At six feet four inches tall and size fourteen shoes, Dan wasn't designed to fit a horse, but he endures the punishment anyway. He much prefers the long hikes we take along the Escalante River.

I like hiking with "Nature Dan." He brings a level of sophistication to the trail not often found among the cast of characters that Dangerous usually hikes or rides with. Who else will sacrifice food and water in his pack for pipe tobacco and booze. We might be a bit short on groceries, but smoking a good pipe before dinner is essential for "Nature Dan." And, how can you end a long day on the trail without "happy hour." At 5:00 PM sharp, Dan breaks out his flask, and soon forgets that dinner might be a bit skimpy. After a few nips, those freeze dried meals actually seem appetizing. I carry my own food, so I usually don't go hungry.

"Tree-hugger" is a term of derision in some circles, but not with "Nature Dan." As you can see in the second picture, he deserves the name, and is proud of it. He tells Dangerous and me that Ponderosa Pine smells just like vanilla. Dangerous and Utah seem to believe him, but I remain unconvinced. Maybe I can't get high enough on the tree to catch the vanilla smell, or the wind might not be just right.

When he isn't smelling trees, Dan is usually gathering materials to handcraft walking sticks, arrows, and other items. At times, Dangerous sends me back or goes himself to look for "Nature Dan." We haven't lost him yet, but frequently, he disappears somewhere along the trail to gather construction materials or study a beetle, plant, pine cone, rock, or natural anomaly. I understand his sniffing around, because I like to do it. But, there are times when it drives Dangerous to distraction.

Sometimes, I suspect that Dan has a little Aussie blood coursing through his veins. Sheep dogs can't pass up water, and neither can Dan. You might think he is taking a bath, but that's not necessarily the case. I have seen him strip down in November and take a quick dip. Frequently, he gets Dangerous to join him, but Utah Jack has an aversion to water and never gets wet above his ankles.

I suspect that most of you are like me. You really wonder if these guys will ever grow up. They are all sixty plus, and still think they are Huckleberry Finn or Butch Cassidy. Well, maybe that's what keeps them eternally young. What do you think?

High Plateau Valentine

For the life of me, I don't understand it. All these men and women running around buying something called valentines.

The gifts seem a bit strange to me. Heart shaped boxes full of chocolate which I can't eat. Vases full of roses that soon wilt and die and the one I really don't get is something called a "pajamagram." What is so romantic about a pair of pajamas? I regularly sleep on the floor in what I already have on. A heart-shaped, meat lover's pizza does appeal to my romantic side.

While these are all great valentines, I guess, the strangest I've heard about is the burial plot Dangerous' wife Trea, gave him a few years back. I can't think of a more practical gift for an aging eccentric like Dangerous, but I still don't see the romance in a cemetery lot. Maybe she figures that's the only place he will stay put long enough to celebrate Valentine's Day or any other holiday. He is usually home Christmas Day and New Years only because it's too cold to ride or hike.

If anyone deserves a valentine, Trea should get the biggest and best one around. For 40 years, she has put up with her husband's wilderness wanderings. I overheard her ask him one year as she was preparing to return to teaching, "Well, I hope you had a good summer!" After her inquiry, off she went to teach school, and Dangerous loaded Dottie in the trailer, and we went riding. Why she puts up with him is any one's guess?

I know a deep bond of affection exists between them even though they spend a lot of time apart. She makes his outdoor life possible, and has found a place among the strange group of characters he rides and hikes with. She loves to talk ideas with Fremont Bob and Nature Dan, and doesn't take any guff from Utah Jack. She patiently listens to their stories, and quickly thumbs through Dangerous' pictures trying to act interested. But, best of all, she takes real good care of me when Dangerous can't take me with him. She is always kind and generous to me and everyone else. Just ask the special needs kids she teaches. They all love her! So, this High Plateau valentine is for you Trea!

Rosie Goes Shopping

When winter weighs heavy, Ole Dangerous and I do a little shopping. Rarely are these trips for my benefit. Unlike most females, I don't need any fancy clothes or expensive shoes. I wouldn't mind a better brand of dog food or an occasional raw hide chew, but you have to remember Dangerous is a bit thrifty. He only upgrades his own ward robe once a year when Ream's Ranch Wear has its annual spring sale. Since they won't let me in the grocery store, where do you think he takes me shopping? Well, from the pictures, you can easily see his favorite place to drop a few bucks is Corral Creek Pack Station.

I think shopping isn't the real reason we visit Corral Creek. The two old boys who work there actually act like they are glad to see us. They even share their lunch with me. The taller of the two, Lonnie, is one of Dangerous' riding buddies. The other gentleman, Simon, is the best "leather man" in Utah. I hear Dangerous brag all the time about his Simon Saddle. Now and again, a rider will stop us on the trail to admire his saddle -- never his horse. You can tell they are a bit envious when Dangerous tells them he is riding a Simon custom built saddle. In fact, I get to listen to the constant argument between Fremont Bob and Shane, the farrier, about who inherits the saddle when Dangerous passes out of the picture. According to Dangerous, whoever gets the saddle has to take me. That usually sobers them up in a hurry.

I am sure you have your special places like us, but have you ever visited a saddle shop that smells of fresh oiled leather. Maybe a cured cow hide only appeals to a hungry sheep dog, but even Dangerous likes the smell. He isn't interested in chewing up Simon's work like me, but he sure likes to stand around swapping stories and admiring Simon's latest work. In fact, he can't help himself; he has Simon making him a pair of shotgun chaps, spur leathers, and a belt or two. I doubt he will ever wear the chaps, but he will proudly show them off to anyone he can get to listen.

So, if you are ever in Lindon, Utah drop by Corral Creek and take a look. Even if you don't buy anything, you can admire Simon's work, and Lonnie might take your picture next to the bear. Pick the right day and you will find Dangerous and I hanging out. If we aren't there, just tell Lonnie and Simon that Rosie sent you. They will take care of you.

How Long Till Spring?

I am not sure, but I believe Ole Dangerous is talking to himself again. What really worries me is when he answers. I thought I heard him mutter something about seeing a robin in a tree. I have also heard him talking with friends planning an early spring hike. While birds and hike talk might mean spring is on the way, I have an even better way to tell. Snow melting off the lawn leaves me few, if any, fresh places to go. Having trouble finding a clear spot is a better predictor of spring than some rock chuck seeing its shadow.

For the life of me, I don't understand why Dangerous and his buddies don't like winter. I love the cold and snow. Maybe it's my thick sheep dog coat, because I like spending all my free time outside in winter. I really enjoy the back country this time of year, and occasionally, I can get Dangerous to take me snow shoeing. We get to hike snow covered trails that we ride during the summer and fall. It's kind of tough on an aging outdoors man to pull on his gaiters, strap on his snow shoes, and put on his pack to chug up a steep snow covered trail. He seems to forget that Dottie and Little Guy pack him and Utah Jack up these same steep trails during warm weather.

With all his complaining, Dangerous enjoys getting out with his son Ben. They aren't the most elegant snow travelers, but we don't see many people. When we do, I act like I don't know them. That's a difficult sell with Dangerous screaming at me to leave the other winter hikers alone. Dangerous might give me a bad time, but I take great pleasure in watching his son poke and prod him. I suspect Ben is getting even for all the crap he took over the past 36 years. I have only had to put up with it for a short five.

Their equipment is dated, and their outfits are definitely army surplus. They look out of place when we unload at the trail head parking lot. They complain about all the snow machines leaving the parking lot, but dress more like the riders than the elegantly outfitted hikers traversing the non-motorized trails on snow shoes and skis. Whoever saw a real snowshoer or skier wearing a ball cap? Even those riding expensive snow machines have the good sense to pull on a stocking cap and water proof gloves. Dangerous can't finds his stocking cap, and he believes his leather riding gloves are good enough for snow shoeing. I am sure Dangerous has a stocking cap somewhere, but like most things, he can't find it.

While the Pine Hollow Trail isn't the High Plateau, it's not bad for anyone starved for outdoor adventure. You get to follow a stream blanketed in snow. The towering peaks are a bit intimidating with their imposing snow covered cliffs. Seeing them gets you listening for any rumbling sounds of avalanche danger. In summer, you look for a shady tree to have lunch under. This time of year that same tree will drop snow down your neck if your aren't careful, and it's hard to find a spot to sit to keep your butt dry. You don't see much wildlife, but the snow leaves great sculptures that you can speculate about.

I know Dangerous believes snow shoeing is a poor substitute for riding and hiking the High Plateau. But, there are only so many books to read, movies to see, or television programs to watch. We have to find ways to pass the long cold hours waiting for the sun to return. When it gets here, we will be off again. In the mean time, we take in an occasional movie and read a lot of books, or I should say Dangerous reads to me. By the way, I give Gran Torino four paws up. You should have seen me sitting in that comfortable reclining chair. I was the only dog in the theater. I howled madly for Clint and his yellow lab, and you couldn't believe the treats. I found a perfectly good hot dog under my seat.

Well, I would like to know how you pass your time during these long cold months. Let me know, and I will pass the information along to Dangerous and his buddies. I really enjoy hearing from you.

Ernest and Hemingway

At ground level, they all look the same to me -- horse or mule. As far as I can tell, the only difference is the length of their ears. Well, there is another important difference. The trail teats they leave me. Blue and Sadie probably disagree, but I prefer horse biscuits to mule droppings any day.

Dangerous tells me that I need to look at them from his perspective -- a little higher up sitting in the saddle. According to him, he isn't smart enough or man enough to own or ride a mule, and what Fremont Bob really needs is another good horse. Since I only know Ernest and Hemingway, Bob's two riding mules, I can only assess what Dangerous tells me based on my experience with them.

Since Hemingway got his growth, it is a bit difficult to tell them apart. Color and size don't distinguish them much any more. Both are solid black with few distinguishing marks. At a distance, they are similar in size with unruly hair. When you get up close, Ernest is considerably bigger. I guess he is 17 hands tall, and, depending on the time of year, looks like he swallowed a 55 gallon barrel. You don't have time to sort out Ernest from Hemingway if they catch you alone in Fremont Bob's pasture. While Blue and Sadie have them figured out, I stay next to Dangerous when crossing the pasture to avoid becoming part of mother earth. They will hunt you down if you don't belong and make short work of an unsuspecting sheep dog striking with their front hooves.

I wouldn't call them willful or stubborn, but maybe difficult best describes them. According to Dangerous, "they are too damn smart for their own good." He tells me that most horses usually accept their lot in life and try to get along. They usually forgive rider mistakes and don't dwell on perceived injustices. But, that's not always the case with mules. Ernest and Hemingway may not be experts in American jurisprudence, but they are well versed in mule law which states, "don't get mad get even." Since they can live up to 40 years, that's a long time to watch your back waiting for them to take revenge.

Fremont Bob is a patient and kind mule man. But, even so, there are times when his patience runs a bit thin. Many a morning Dangerous, Utah Jack, and I have loaded Dottie and Little Guy thinking Fremont will show up any minute. He doesn't own a watch or working clock, but that usually doesn't explain his tardiness. Hemingway didn't want to be caught, and once caught wouldn't stay loaded in the trailer. If you ever stop to visit Bob, take a look at the crater Hemingway has dug where Fremont Bob usually saddles him.

On the trail, Ernest and Hemingway are sure footed and have great gaits. They easily keep up with Dottie Dangerous' Walking Horse. About anyone can ride Ernest, but don't open a potato chip bag, unwrap a sandwich, or anything else that crinkles when opened. Ernest can really cover the ground, and it has to be his idea to stop not yours. Hemingway has a sweet disposition, but a mind of his own. I have got to watch when his steering goes out. He will take Fremont Bob wherever he pleases without a second thought about who is suppose to be in charge.

Don't get me wrong, horses can be difficult at times too. I have been around the whole time Dangerous has been working with Dottie. Ole Dangerous about gave up on her during the first two years. Fremont Bob told him at the time that he should tie her next to the road with a sign around her neck offering a free horse. Well, he didn't give up, and five years later she is a pretty good trail pony. Fortunately, for Dangerous she isn't as smart as Ernest or Hemingway, or that sign may have gone around her neck.

Well, that's my take on two of my back country pals -- Ernest and Hemingway. By the way, can you tell them apart? Take a minute and check the pictures closely. Is that Fremont Bob or a Hollywood movie star wearing the dark glasses? Nice look Bob! Love to hear from you.

Pleasant Creek

Fall is about my favorite time of year. I'm pretty sure that the horses prefer it to the other seasons. After the first freeze, the mosquitoes and horse files are gone. Dottie and Little Guy get real energetic in the cool weather, and they have plenty of late grass to munch. Dangerous, Utah, and Fremont are always pointing out a favorite yellow stand of aspens. If we are lucky, the river birch will be red along the creek banks we ride. Dangerous thinks I don't see the colors around me, but like most things, he's wrong. I do enjoy wading in the half frozen creeks, and I especially enjoy the trail snacks deer and elk leave behind. The cold weather makes them real tasty. Supposedly, dogs don't see colors that come with the changing seasons. But, you have to remember I'm not like other dogs. While I didn't go to college, I have a highly developed aesthetic sense that lets me enjoy a fresh, fall ride as much as anyone.

Wherever you go in the back country, you will find a "Pleasant Creek." We have one ten miles from the Home Place, and we ride the trail often. Usually, four or five time a year. Since Dottie still remembers her dry, St. George youth, Dangerous likes to start her on the Pleasant Creek Trail. She gets to cross clear, flat water without taking a fit and unloading him in a black, muddy pool. We work up to that later in the riding season.

We have to share the first three miles with ATVs. Fortunately, we ride during the week, and try to stay home during holidays and hunting season when they are out in force. Once we leave the road behind, we have the place pretty much to ourselves. Sometimes we have to share with cattle, but I have learned to leave them alone. I only wish Blue wasn't so interested in refining his herding skills, but he is learning too. It was on this trail where Dangerous introduced Dottie to cows. Since she is an uptown Walking Horse, she didn't know what to think the first time she rode through a herd. Fortunately, Dangerous kept his seat and didn't end up on the ground.

The three mile ride up the road is worth the effort because it is the gateway to some special places. The trail branches in a number of directions. One leads steeply to the top of the world. We follow it occasionally, but have to blind fold Fremont Bob. He gets a bit squeamish when viewing the earth below him from 10,000 feet while sitting a horse or mule.

When we don't have all day, we take the branch where the pictures were taken. In the fall, the colors are spectacular, and we can hear elk bugling all around us. In the past, there was a dead one in a pond that Dangerous kept a close eye on. He didn't think it was going to come back to life, but he wasn't sure I wouldn't take a lovely roll in the decaying carcass. When I do that, he won't let me ride up front on the way home.

Well, that's all for now. I have to get back outside and patrol the fence line. I thought I heard the mailman coming, or even better it might be the UPS driver. Let me hear from you!