Looking West from North Fk Sun
After our discombobulated drive over to Gibson Dam, our ride up to the North Fork of the Sun River was a good start at getting my head in a better place.
We awoke with frost on our bags, got a liesurely start and had a pleasant day winding in and out between the meadows along the river and the forests on the edges. Along the way we saw several sets of wolf tracks in the trail. They are BIG!
Our trail took us away from the river, up over a ridge and down to Moose Creek. Where we crossed the creek you could see Mother Nature's early Spring rearrangement when high water tore out trees along the bank and piled them up downstream.
At one point Sambo, grazing alone unhobbled, started home. I had to chase him about half a mile. He might have turned around, being alone; but he wasn't showing any signs of doing so. I worked with him more with his hobbles. I would lead him to a patch of grass, hobble him, and let him eat until he wanted to move. I'd let him stew for a while and eventually help him move his feet a little at a time. He still hadn't figured it out when we packed up the next morning.
Someone before us had a lot of time on their hands, and had built a pretty fancy chair and collected some elk antlers,
This was our last camp on the river, so I took time to check out the fishing. They were fiesty little buggers. You're can only keep fish below 12" here, so it's a good thing we weren't counting on fish for dinner. Besides, at this point I was more interested in lightening Scheba's load than messing with cooking and cleaning up afterwards.
The next day we rode up through gorgeous grass covered hillsides to Gates Park. Dona loves to hike, and depending on the terrain and how her lower back and ankle feels either hikes or rides. When she changes off we try to allow time put on or take off her ankle brace. The day was warming up, and at Gates Park she took off her hat and shirt and stuck them in the elastic bands on the back of her fanny pack. I've never liked elastic as a means of holding things on packs. About two miles up the trail after we had crossed Red Shale Creek, she realized she'd lost her hat and shirt. We tied Sky and Scheba and I trotted back to find them. They were about a hundred yards past the place where she had taken them off. One of the disadvantages of being relatively short and hiking on trails where horses have pounded a rut in soft soil, is that you're kind of down in a trench and the surrounding bushes are a lot higher up on you. The shrubs in Gates Park had snagged them.
We continued on to My Lake near the Continental Divide and the Chinese Wall. It was a long day, but pretty scenery all the way. As we worked our way higher, new ranges of mountains kept poking their heads up in the distance. We didn't see much wildlife, but we did find fresh moose tracks and occasional bear scat. This wasn't a very good year for berries, and the bears were having to scrounge around a lot.
My Lake is a small, shallow lake. It's pretty but void of fish, I think; it might freeze solid in winter. You're not allowed to camp with stock within 500 feet of the lake, a good thing. The shoreline is fragile, and stock is pretty hard on wet ground. We camped downstream and picketed the horses even further away.
Our next day was planned as a layover; we drifted off to sleep hoping for a great day exploring the Chinese Wall.