Salty

​A good friend of my brothers and mine, invited us to hunt out of his cabin that is situated at the end of the road above Ouray Colorado. To drive into his place is to love a one lane dirt/rock narrow road. Most people would call the drive more adventure then they wanted. To pull a 20 foot horse trailer up to his cabin takes skill and perhaps a lack of fear of dying.
Anyway, surviving the road trip in was the easy part of our adventure so I will get to my story.
His cabin was on cutler creek and it was rustic to say the least. My brother and I received hand drawn maps of the trails in the area and each had their own story that our friend told us about that night in the cabin. We decided that a round trip ride up to the top of Boyeds meadows and down Dexter creek ridge, past the old mine and back into camp would be a great ride. Our friend agreed but mentioned he had not been over on that ridge for awhile.
Our ride up to the top of Boyeds took about 2 ½ hours and there we took a right on the ridge and headed to the top of Dextor creek. We found the ridge ok, (we have been to the mountains and seen the other side) but not really a trail. One did appear on the very top of that ridge because heading down on your left it was very steep for 50-60 feet and then it was a cliff that dropped into the creek maybe 500-600 feet below. Having said that, there was no going left so staying on top or going to the right were the only options. Well, this “trail” was very narrow and the hillside on the right had old tall timber on it. Soon we found an old trail off the top of the ridge that entered the timber. Perfect we thought as we now were 5 hours into our ride and had zero desire to turn around. Why even the thought of telling our friend that we turned back was not something to consider. So off into the timber on that trail we went. Now, I may need to explain what steep is, there was no way you could get off that trail and ride parallel to it. You could not get between the trees because it was so steep that trees roots and trunk maybe 10-15 tee apart (distance down the hill to the next tree) but the trunk of those trees were only 2- 2 ½ feet apart because of how steep the side hill was. Now wouldn’t ya know it, we started hitting down timber on our trail. We are mounted good, my brother on a mountain wise mule and me on a high dollar team roping head horse, Now I hear ya, why am I on an arena horse in that kind of county? Well, because “Tank” we called him tank, had been used to chase wild horses on the BLM round ups. This stout horse had a great mind, was very sure footed, and I was about to put those to the test. We hit a log that we could not get over and neither one of us wanted to turn around and go back what we have already came through. You see going over big logs on a downhill trail is one thing and going over the same log heading uphill is totally another! We had no saw with us, our friend never advised that we should carry one because we were on a joy ride, right?
Well my older brother lead the way leading his mule…if you call it that. It was like a controlled fall or side and down the hill he went and stopped at a tree where he could step left with is mule. Now I may not have told you but the trail we had been on was pretty darn steep on its own so, baling over the side and going left meant the trail was only a feet away anyway.
My turn Tank was 1,350 pounds of rock hard stand up horse. So when we left the trail and I fell on my ass and was sliding down holding the reins of my horse, you could imagine my concern when my feel planted and I came to a stop. As I lay there in an almost standing position because the hill is so freaking steep! I had a large front leg of my horse on each side of me, his head over the top of my right shoulder and his tail buried in the hillside (and I hoped anchored there). Now, I see where my brother and mule turned and I even see them on the trail again maybe 20 some feet away. Now I have never been accused of being a smart man, but I did know that huge horse was not going to stay where he was for long. So, keeping a hold of my reins I did my best to leap sideways as far as I could and then keep scrambling until I reached the trail. I love that big horse, he came right with me, never stepped on or trampled over me, and he had every opportunity to do so.
Well, that was the last big log we encountered on the trail and we made our way to the old mine and then down the draw to the cabin. Our friend came out of the cabin when his mule started sounding off at our arrival. His greeting was that he did not expect to see us so soon, because no one had been on that trail in years and didn’t think we could make our way through it.
Before we sat down for supper to regale our story, indeed were just dismounting, we said something about it being pretty steep and logged in. Our friend just laughed said; Yep, it can get pretty SALTY up there!