You get the saddle on her and I'll ride her!  

If she was sporting a 50+ inch spread I bet you'd find her real attractive. LOL

CK.... That's an "OREGON" pack mule

Nope, I'm not going to say it...it's way to easy.

I almost got stomped up in Montana once after seeing that same view.....  :D  I wouldn't want any part of that rodeo....Terry

I put that good a bait out there and you let it slide Darke? Come-on.... LOL

:D   I jumped on my Jackass last night vowing to break him so I can use him in hunting camp soon. Lucky for me that the "Dumbass alert system" started flashing in my brain saying "Dummy, you're gonna get hurt before you go Elk hunting". I quickly dismounted, avoiding the flailing hooves and retreated toward the house. You saddle that ugly horse of yours and "I'll" ride him Charlie!      

It will be after the Elk trip though. CK

You guys have been out in the sun too long.  Can't you see that isn't a saddle horse!!  That is a draft horse.  Look at it's feet!!!  That thing has to have some Clydesdale in it's lineage somewhere!!  

Put a harness on it and hitch it to your little red wagon and you're good to go!!!

 

Is it just my monitor or do those meese's have blue eyes??

I'm a little late, but i guess its never too late to say congrats on the beautiful buck Terry! And lets see some more Out of vance and my Dad!!

Drifter, They look blue to me also.

One of the best threads we've had at Trad Gang - love it!  Congrats to all, 'specially my good bro' Terry on an amazing kill!

     

Did ya get them tires mounted yet? I think I can hear an elk over there on that ridge.

Got the tires mounted Dark. Been fightin the computer wars here.
The weather man is promising rain (but he might have his fingers crossed behind his back) and with that promise comes a heavy cloud cover that seems to be interfering with satelite function.

Last night there were two old men sitting in front of their monitors cussing a blue streak and wanting desperately to read, write, add pictures or anything.

Same frustration this morning, but starting to get used to frustration on this trip... to many changes of plan for my old brain.  

Ok! The fight with the satellite continues and it ain't even rainin.

So I'll just put down what I have to say without pics and plug them in later.

With new rubber on the old truck and Vance obligated to other endeavors, I headed for the high country alone.

It's hard to beat the company of a good friend like Vance, but there is something about high lonesome country that begs for a single set of boot prints.

I have to admit to having reservations about traveling alone up high. I think it's an age thing and in fact believe it's more a mental thing than a physical thing at this point in my life.

All the "what if's" gnawed at me during the empty months before this trip came around.
I'd gained way too much weight over the past several years, but had trimmed down substantially before and during the early stages of my visit.

There are grizzly bears in these mountains now that were never present when I lived here. I thought a lot about that too.

But if the mountains are anything, they are about exploring ones limits and not the least of those limits is the psychological limits we impose on ourselves.

That's really what has always drawn me to the high wild places. Getting out where you push yourself physically and mentally.
"Blow out the cobs", as a friend use to say. Stretch muscle that's been too long in front of a computer monitor and shake off the bonds of civilization.
Court the wild thing that lives in everyone's heart, make love to it and set it free.

I found myself once again aching to be alone and high on the mountain... and I knew just where I'd go.

Been there too Charlie. My mental battle started early but I think I have it whipped now. I took the make it or break it attitude which may not have been smart but it worked out okay. I'm looking forward to seeing if there are any cobwebs stuck in the corner of my mind too.

The road up the mountain seemed longer than usual. With each mile behind me, the anticipation grew stronger.

Thoughts of an old friend flashed in my minds eye. Buck Moore was an old man when I'd known him.
A character and true mountain man, we'd worked in a local sawmill together before I was called to a grander adventure in Southeast Asia.

He and his brother Snooks had been grizzly hunters in their youth with stories that sent chills up my young spine and set the tone for my own adventurous spirit.

I remembered the day I returned from overseas. The mill owner had welcomed me back with open arms.
"Old Buck is down at the millhouse, he'd said, go on down there and give him a hand".

I walked through the door or the old gray clap board building as Buck was finishing the first cut on a huge lodgepole log.

Buck looked up from his position at the control levers and without a blink, reached in his pocket for the denim polished tobacco can that rested there.

He'd roll a smoke as the log returned to the ready position, never taking his leathery hand from the lever.

The rolling was done with one hand and I always marveled at that...I wasted a couple of pounds of tobacco over the years trying to learn too.

I'd grabbed the first board as it fell onto the conveyor and carried it to the appropriate stack.

When the last board from that log was stacked, Buck walked down the dusty isle and offering a strong hand in greeting looked me right in the eye. "What brings you back to this God forsaken place?"
He smiled and a twinkle of light flashed in his steel gray eyes as he cast a glance toward the distant mountains... I didn't have to answer. Buck knew better than I did.

That is a great "story" Mr. Lamb!

Soon I was parked at the base of the mountain eager to be away from the road.

I put such neccesities in my pockets as I thought I might need. I'd not be hampered by a pack which bit too deep into my shoulders. My prefered bib overalls would carry the weight of what little I needed should the need to spend a night out arise.

With my bow and quiver of broadheads in hand I struck out up the mountain.
 

Note: I hadn't put my mini tripod in my pocket and this picture was taken from a handy rock. Guess I missed the grass in front of the lense and that's what the camera focused on... poop!

"Court the wild thing that lives in everyone's heart, make love to it and set it free."

We REALLY need a book Mr. Lamb.  Thoughts like that are too profound not to be set down permanantly for others to enjoy......