Storm!
Day 2 was a whole different scenario. We rose early, as we'd planned a long day. We'd hit the highlands, stop at Upper Chase Lake for lunch, then make the descent home in the afternoon.
Soon after we headed off, I noticed the sky darkening around us. After an hour in the saddle, my arthritic joints told me it was about to rain. I looked up and could sense something was in the air. The sky was ominous; the fresh breeze had suddenly stopped dead. Our horses became agitated. Without too much hesitation, we made a collective decision to turn back for home.
The minute we arrived back at camp and dismounted, rain began to fall. We quickly covered and put away our belongings, then sat under a tarp in fear of what was to come.
The sky darkened to black, the rain strengthened, and the wind blew so hard, the trees were swayed above us. Hearing the crash of a falling tree nearby, we headed for the truck, worrying about those who still might be on the trails.
We drove around the lot to each site to see which horses weren't yet in their stalls. A friend, Anne, and her troop had just retuned and were quickly untacking. She was shaking with fear. "Trees were literally falling around us," she exclaimed. "One fell right in front of us, blocking the trail. We just headed our horses for home and ran."
After the first storm, the park ranger advised us not to stay in a tent, but to find cover in a vehicle or camper, as more severe storms were on their way. Word of a logger being crushed to death by a falling tree got around. We headed for our friends' three-horse trailer with living quarters.
The power had gone out, which meant no water. When the rangers were kind enough to turn on the generator for an hour, we scurried around filling up everything we could find. We were thankful for the extra buckets we'd packed.
By early evening, the weather had calmed. We ate dinner in a covered picnic area, then warmed ourselves by the fire. Storm tales were endless. Even though no one was hurt, I decided that next time I'd bring a small, battery-operated radio to check the weather each day before heading out on the trails.
A Sloshy Finish
The next morning greeted us with clear blue skies. We decided to take the trail to Catspaw Lake and enjoy our last full day. Wild turkeys flew out from underneath us; I was so proud of Bailey when he didn't flinch. Birds chattered, and the breeze was just strong and cool enough to keep the bugs away. Catspaw Lake revealed wonderful reflections.
The trail showed signs of the previous day's storm. Trees had blocked the path, forcing us to bushwhack them out of the way. I could picture Anne and her friends in the thick of it, the wind howling around them.
Completely relaxed and a bit sad knowing that this was our last day, I hardly noticed the ground getting squishy. Bailey snorted, and I knew instantly water was ahead. What we thought was a small creek turned out to be a river that completely flooded the trail.
We consulted the map and decided that if we wanted to get back before nightfall, crossing the river would be our best option. We put Laurie and Dee in the lead. I lifted my feet onto the front of the saddle, and urged Bailey on with my voice. Dee expertly led the way.
The next thing I knew, I was holding onto Bailey's mane and we were literally swimming across to reach the other side. We laughed in surprise and shock as our horses finally made their way to dry ground. I couldn't wait to tell Bailey's former owner what the Appy had accomplished on his first trip away.
That night, as I crawled into my sleeping bag, tired from the day's adventures, I knew we'd never forget this trip. I also reached a decision. Although I love my tent and two-horse bumper pull, I resolved to search for a new trailer with small living quarters. A shower, a toilet, and a place to hide from falling trees somehow have become priorities.
I guess I'm just getting soft in my old age!
