Get a Grip, Brad

Brad Bryce and I packed to Sturtevant's Camp this past Friday, and Geo from cabin #29 came along for the ride. He had never been to Camp. In fact, I don't think he had been past Pub 38. We had a good visit with Joan and ate lunch at the picnic table. It was a very pleasant day until we got about halfway down the stock trail.

Geo was out front and Brad was leading Fred at the front of the string, followed by Bill, Slim, Heasley, and Calico. From my position in the rear, as we passed through the area known as Hoegee's Drop-off, I noticed a rock tumbling down the hillside above the animals. It launched itself silently, end-over-end toward Bill. Before I could say anything, the rock hit Bill in the saddle bag, so he wasn't hurt, but it spooked Fred. It was at that moment that Brad learned the hard way to always carry the lead rope in the downhill hand.

When he turned to see what was happening with Fred, he naturally turned in the direction of the lead, which placed him on the outside edge of the trail. This also gave Fred an opening between Brad and the uphill slope. Fred was carrying empty propane tanks, so he was just wide enough to knock Brad off the trail.

Those of you who are familiar with that section of trail know that he is lucky to be alive. In an instant Brad went from merrily strolling down the trail to hanging on the edge by his fingertips! It's weird how the mind works. He had a funny, irrational concern for keeping the string from running down the trail and didn't seem to realize his precarious predicament. Geo held out his walking stick to give Brad something on which to pull himself up, but it only served to worry Fred some more. I finally convinced Brad to let go of the lead rope. Even though it was the most secure thing for him to hold onto, I wanted Geo to take the animals around the bend before they both fell off the cliff. Besides, with the string out of the way, I could move into position to anchor Brad, since I weigh twice what he does. He managed to pull himself up before I could get to him and was shaking like a leaf. Geo is far from mule savvy, but since he was out in front, he calmly led Fred around the bend to the next inside turn, where there was enough room to get everything straightened out.

It wasn't until we were back on solid ground at Fern Lodge that I asked Brad if he knew the significance of the spot where he was hanging; he didn't. It is called Hogee's Drop-off because Vint Hoegee and his horse fell to their deaths off that cliff. That's when reality sank in.

Nothing could have prevented that rock from falling, and if Brad had turned to the inside of the trail we might have lost some animals. But as it turned out, what compounded the situation was the width of the trail. We could have more safely reorganized if the trail were wider, and if the string had bolted, there would have been room for hikers down trail to step aside from five charging equine. Nobody said this packing business is safe, but we could make it safer with wider trails (more about that later).