No hour of life is wasted that is spent in the saddle. ~Winston Churchill

Friday, April 27, 2012

LBL Weekender Camping Trip

YeeeeHaaaaawwww fellow riders!  Spring is just getting started and this is our THIRD...yes I said third camping trip this year!

We had several beautiful rides this weekend!  It is amazing how quickly the foliage blossoms out in the spring.  Spring was in full swing when we got to LBL.  The camp ground was over flowing with endurance riders for the weekend ERIC event, so we almost didn't get an electric site.  One of the ladies at the check station was very gracious and called a friend that had a permanent site and asked if we could stay in his spot for the weekend.  We were very fortunate and grateful for her kind act.  Again there just aren't people like horse people!  We settled into camp after searching for our spot in the dark...something that does NOT make Mr. Simmons a "happy camper"  HA pun intended and then settled in the horses and tucked them in for the night on their high line. It was actually my fault that we got to camp so late because I had to work until 5:30. We cooked pork chops on the grill and had a really late supper, but we were hungry at that point!  Then it was straight to bed for us, for a new day of riding would dawn before we knew it!

We started out riding by ourselves, but as usual Mr. meet someone today started talking to a woman and her two daughters at the Blue Hole.  He was really impressed at how well the youngest girl had trained her horse to be so responsive with the bit and under saddle.  He even had to try her horse out.  But as we know this meeting could not come with out a little professional aggravation from the expert himself.  Not sure what this group of women thought of Keith, but I think they questioned it!  We followed them in to camp on the trail but we lost Keith brush popping on the way, therefor I returned to camp alone.  Now this is not my ideal situation...I begin questioning he alright?  Do I need to go looking for him?  How long do I wait?  Men!  They just sometimes don't know what they do to us!  He returned safe and sound and we got to enjoy a very nice supper by campfire while listening to the coyotes howl in sweet unison through the hills of Wrangler's camp.  There must have been hundreds of them, for the sounds of their beautiful songs encircled our camp.  Harley didn't appreciate it as much as us and let us and the wile ole coyotes know that this was his turf and camp and that they better not dare to come near.  He woofed out his warnings to them repeatedly while he bounced on his front paws and held his head back loud and proud to see just how vicious he really was!  What a chuckle we got from him!  Bad dog Harley, that's my name!

On this camping trip we camped among the pine grove and the smell of the pines and campfires mingling together are a treat to the senses.  Our second night in camp Keith again makes friends with the neighbors and they invite us to supper more than once with their group up the hill.  We don't partake but it was a very nice gesture.  Later they ask to join us around our campfire and we sit staring at the fire and talk the night away.  It was very late when we went to bed, but remember my motto is "no clocks on vacation".  

The next morning, our last morning to ride we decide to ride some uncharted territory.  Keith and I were planning on going to see the buffalo, but decide that it is too long of a ride for this time.  We chose to see the old tobacco barn.  On the way we pass trails lined with flowering bushes a great act of God's handy work. We stir up millions of butterflys that kiss our faces and bodies engulfing our horses and us as we pass.  What an awesome experience!  As we round the bend and break through the forest, in the clearing can be seen a relic of history, standing still in time, lending a story from our past.  I can almost visualize the farm, and the family working there with their horses and hear the sounds of complete sustainability that farms and families once had.  I sit on my horse in awe. looking up into the rafters and imagining what that life must have been like.  Harder but satisfyingly simpler...I savor this day as if it were that cell phones, automobiles, city noise, or pollution...just me, Keith, horses, and nature.

On our way back to camp I tell Keith of an old cabin or corn crib that I would like to photograph.  I found it when I was waiting for him to return to camp the day before.  Again I am amazed at the craftsmanship of our forefathers and let my mind drift to what kind of history was made in this spot so many years ago.  Were there little children running around in overalls and calico dresses?  Chickens pecking in the yard?  The old milk cow chewing her cud in the meadow.  A team of mules harnessed and waiting to plow...I picture a true scene from Where the Red Fern Grows.

As all good stories do this one ends another chapter.  For my story will not end until I do.  My next chapter starts with my next adventure.  I hope you will join me to see what that next chapter brings.  Happy trails my friends....see you on the back of a horse, the best place to be!

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