I learned something in the last two weeks.  It is very profound, something that you may not have thought of
before.  Certainly, I had not thought about this before.  Although, I imagine that in all of human history, this
thought of mine may not be unique.  It could have been contemplated by a very select few with the unique
ability such as I have to view the world in a very different way.  Possibly, having read what is to follow, you
will not be in agreement with the importance I place on this thought but of course that would be because
you may not be one of the "Select Few."

"Life is like a horse trail!"

Yes, life is like a horse trail.  Just like a horse trail, life wonders along with a destination we are not really
sure of.  As we come to forks in the trail we are sometimes not sure of what path will get us to where we
want to go.  With our best judgment we choose which path to follow.  Sometimes it is the path that has seen
the most activity.  We surmise that since many have gone down this path before that it must be the one to
follow.  On the other hand maybe they were all just like Lemmings going to their death at the end of the trail.  
All that is found at the end of a trail like this is a pile of bones.  
I am sure that as all of the Lemmings are running headlong towards the cliff there has to be a few that know
they should have taken a different path.  They might even say, "Hey Y'all, I think this might be a better way
to go."  In the end though it seems easier to just go along with the crowd.  And just as the horse trail will
have obstacles strewn along your path, the Lemmings will find their cliff.  
Like the horse trail, life gives you many things that you have to deal with each day.  Finding a tree fallen
across your path you must decide whether to go around or to just have your horse step over the obstacle.  
In life, if you lose your job you have to decide whether to let it ruin you or whether to pick yourself up and
just step over this obstacle.  At times when you would like to be moving along a little faster the trail puts a
hill in front of you, thus slowing you down.  Yes life is just like a horse trail!
I was sitting there contemplating this thought after just having participated in a major horse wreck.  Yes, I
was the Lemming that the horses were following when the accident occurred.  Yes, like the lemmings we
also went over a cliff.  I was only trying to arrive at the appointed place in a reasonable time as previously
agreed upon, but alas I fell victim to the well-traveled horse trail.  I later decided that it was some very
sadistic wildlife that had led me astray, but I guess I should begin at an earlier time in this history of the
horse trail so as to further enlighten you as to what transpired here.  
We were in the third day of the big hunt.  We had already traveled many miles on horseback that day to
arrive at a patch of timber that I knew held the quarry that we were after.  Namely Elk.  As always precedes a
push through a patch of timber like this, plans were discussed as to where all would meet and at
approximately what time. I am not sure why such plans are made because never does anyone come out at
the right place.
I volunteered to be the one to take the horses to the bottom of the hill. During our discussion I mentioned
that I was not sure if we should try this particular drive through the trees.  The hill was quite steep and
foreboding.  It just did not feel right.  Something was wrong!  Alas, the steaming piles of recently evacuated
elk dung won out and the drive commenced.  Nothing like a little crap spread around to boil the blood of the
avid hunter.
Soon my son and Elkless George (so named because on many previous trips he was yet to see a live elk)
were on their way over the edge of the hill and out of sight into the Everest like hillside.  I gathered the
horses and started down the trail along the ridge.  The trail was steep but not unduly so.  Ridgeback after
ridgeback faded in the distance behind me as I made my way ever closer to the bottom.  Soon I came
across a very wide and well-traveled trail that appeared to be heading to the same place I was so I detoured
and followed.  
Although steep, the trail was well defined and easy to follow.  Down, down, down we went, ever spiraling to
our appointment with destiny.   Then as though lost in a "Blair Witch" rerun, the trail was gone.  It just
stopped there overlooking a precipice not unlike something you might see while visiting the Grand
Canyon.  One of lives little obstacles I thought.  
This is where I should have turned around but like the lemmings I continued on.  With each additional step I
was heading ever closer to disaster.  Now had I been thinking clearly, I would have retrieved the little radio
in my pocket and explained the situation to my fellow hunters. Further, I would have suggested that now
might be a good time for them to start back up the mountain. No, like the lemmings I just continued on.  I
would find a way down.  
It was not long after this that my lead horse slipped while stepping over a downed tree and fell down.  The
problem was that I was directly below the horse when he performed this maneuver.  Having the agility of
one who knows that certain death awaits if that 1200 pound horse rolled over me, I somehow made a jump
out of the way.  I landed up hill of the whole roiling tossing mess that had once been a pack string of
horses.  As I looked back down at the horses, the sight that my eyes were met with was shocking beyond
all believe.  What I saw was hard for me to look at but I will endeavor to describe it for you.
The horse that had slipped and fallen was hanging there by its lead rope.  The second horse was having its
face contorted against a tree as it tried to support the fallen horse.  It is hard to describe how bad the face of
that second horse looked.  Its nose was somewhere around its forehead, while its teeth were being pushed
to the back of its mouth.  I had every reason to believe that I would soon witness the horses nose being
ripped off.  It is a brave thing to hold 1200 pounds in the air with only your nose and teeth.  
I had to act quickly or I would be pulling out my checkbook to pay for a noseless horse.   My knife found its
way into my hand and I quickly cut the supporting rope.  It sounded like a rifle shot when the rope went.  
That’s when the fun started.  The first horse commenced to do about three of four somersaults down the
slope.  The second informed me it needed to see a dentist and promptly laid down.  The third horse simply
wondered what all the fuss was about and went about filling its stomach.
I was completely exhausted from watching all this activity.  I was certain that one or more of the horses
would have to be shot and thus costing $1500 a piece.  Hunting did not seem like such a relaxing sport at
that time.  I dug the radio out of my pocket and calmly informed the members of my hunting party that there
would be no taxis waiting for them at the bottom of the mountain.  Further I told them that they may have to
walk back to camp.  Also I thought it would be a good idea if one or more of them could try and find me and
lend a little assistance.  
Now if you were to talk to either of the other two in this group they would tell you that I sounded a little
panicked when I came over the radio.  I want to suppress any rumors of the sort right here and now.  I was
not panicked!  I was only trying to impress upon them the serious nature of our problem.  And besides if
you had seen the hideous shape of that horses head you would understand the quavering in my voice.
I believe we rode over 20 miles that day, and saw many wonders of nature along the way.  But to be sure
there was something very mysterious about this horse wreck.  Before the wreck happened, and back up
the trail about three or four miles, my son informed us that he was going back to look for the back plate to
his GPS. (global positioning station)  Apparently it had fallen off somewhere between camp and that point
there where we were.  He really wanted to turn around and ride back over the trail we had already been on.  
Maybe 10 miles worth of trail. With a little reasoning and some parental verbal abuse he was persuaded that
it would not be a good idea to do that and that we should all ride on.  
Well as it happens, my son was the first to arrive on the scene of the Great Horse Wreck.  Elkless George
was two or three canyons over and too far away to help.  As my son and I started to put the horses back
together, I sent my son down the hill to retrieve two saddle blankets from where I had taken them from his
disfigured horse.  As he bent down to pick up the blankets, he found the back plate to the GPS.  It must
have fallen into the saddle somewhere and came out during the entire ruckus.  It was a bright spot in an
otherwise dreary episode.
The hike back up the hill that I had brought the horses down was not fun.  We just about drank all the water
we had with us on just that short steep hike.  Never did fresh spring water taste so good as it did several
miles further on when we came back to a spring where good water was available.  
As we sat there drinking the cool water I pondered the near miss I had had with nearly loosing some
horses.  At $1500 a horse, that could have put a real big damper on the festivities of our hunt.  It was then
that I realized that not all would have been lost had one of the horses perished in the fall.  For you see it is a
know fact that if you are riding a horse that is nothing but the walking dead, barely able to lift a foot in front
of the other, all you need to do is turn towards home and watch the sudden transformation that takes place
in the once dead horse.  Secateriat  could not keep up with a horse like that.  Thus all I would have had to
do was turn the dead twisted head of the horse towards home and back to life it would have sprung.
We did not get an elk on this trip, although some were spotted.  Even ELKLESS GEORGE saw a live elk,
although he still claims it was a refugee from the elk farm.  I had three real nice shots at some that I should
have not missed, but I later found out my gun was firing way to the left.  I guess it got bumped during some
mishap or the other.  We also had an elk or two start bugeling early one morning very near camp.  I mean it
was like 4am.  That is really something to hear. It is a very eerie sound.  We did shoot some grouse to have
with our nightly noodles, so all was not lost.  

Now I want to share some wisdom that we obtained during our time spent on this hunt.  I guess you could
say we learned a few new words.  First of which would be SQUINKIE.  (Hmm!  I guess the computer must
have been on a horse hunt before.  It did not highlight this word in red indicating that it was spelled wrong.)  
Definition: What a Twinkie turns into after 8 hours on the back of a horse.  

CRUSTY:  1. Anything found floating in your water or food.
 2. What the exterior of your teeth feel like after                                                                                       
      several days of not brushing them.
3.        How underwear become after just two or three days of not changing them.



LEVITATION:  The method by which you go to the bathroom with
                     no toilet available.



( Last but not least)

    HORSE:  A four legged wild beast, intent on causing the rider to become unsaddled through  any method
possible.   A favorite of this beast is as follows.  While walking down the normal, level, trail, the path
followed will be down the middle.  On the other hand, if the trail drops away into the clouds on either side,
then the beast will attempt to see how close it can come to the edge. Thus causing the rider great mental
distress and in some cases accomplishing the beasts intent of getting the rider off its back.  Assuming the
rider has any sense left at all after participating in a real Wild West horseback hunt.                             
   justkeepfishing.com
Of Horse Wrecks and More
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