Every year my friends and I head into the mountains for two weeks. Normally we spend those two weeks deep in the Willmore Wilderness with our pack string, but in the summer of 2024, the four of us found ourselves camping at the Bighorn in the Ya-Ha Tinda instead.
Our tents were traded in for living quarter trailers with heat, air conditioning, fridges and running water. What a luxury! It wasn’t just cozy for us, our horses had it made too. Instead of wearing hobbles and finding meals in the wild pastures, they were fed high quality hay, soaked alfalfa cubes and supplements. Perhaps the horses would have preferred to graze on the summer grass, however even deep in the wilderness the grass isn’t always as thick and nutritious as one would expect.
One member of group, Alyssa, was flying to Mongolia in less than two weeks to ride in the Mongol Derby. She had brought all her gear to test out and carry as if she were in the derby. Not only that, but she had also sacrificed her well-worn, much-loved slick fork saddle for a Pandora endurance saddle to once again emulate more closely what she would be riding 1000 kilometers in.
The other members of our group included Steeve and I, and our long-time traveling partner and friend, Rick. Between the three of us we had four Canadian registered Tennessee Walkers and two Missouri Fox Trotters. Alyssa had brought her Quarter Horse, who is called the “Wonder Horse” by vets at our Competitive Trail Rides.
One night around our propane fire pit, the guys pulled out a map and started to make plans. The year before, Steeve, Alyssa and I had ridden up to a set of peaks called the saddle. While up there, we spotted a trail that ran along the edge of the mountain and disappeared around the other side. It was our guess based on directions from other riders and what was on the maps, that this was a rideable loop.
Much discussion over the map led us to agree that not only should we be able to do a loop, but maybe we could even make it to Ice Lake. None of us except for Rick, had ever been to Ice Lake, although when he had been there, he had accessed it a different way (30 years ago). Rick had also ridden from the Bighorn, but the trail that he had used was now impassable (bog).
On July 25th, the four of us struck out on our strongest horses and headed to the top of the Saddle. This part was easy; I was nervous about the narrow trail beyond the saddle. Memory is a funny thing, or maybe exposure gets easier the more you get used to it; either way the trail wasn’t quite as bad as I imagined. Although some parts had lots of loose shale and rock that made my heart thump like crazy. The mountainside below the meager trail we were on dropped dramatically in a steep decline. Way down at the bottom I could see a family of elk bedded down in thick green grass. They must not have thought much of us, they didn’t even bother to stand up.
This trail crested over a rocky point and onto a flat expanse of grass, rock and trees. Flat enough that Steeve pulled to a stop and the flask was passed around. Our GPS showed a trail; however, the terrain was extremely rocky so whatever slip of a trail was there, was almost impossible to see. Thankfully, someone had been there before us and had flagged the trees with orange ribbon.
Our group wound around the backside of the mountain. The landscape was much less severe, the slope more gradual. The peaks were jagged and tall to our left, and a carpet of forest spread out below to the right. This led us around to a much more visible trail that cut up and down around rocky outcroppings and little creeks until we came to a very important junction. One way would take us back to where we started along an old fire or mining road. The other way would take us into the Panther and towards Ice Lake. The problem was that we didn’t know the state of the trail heading home, and the weather was turbulent to say the least. If the trail turned out to be impassable and we had to turn around, getting stuck on top of the mountain was not a risk anyone wanted to take.
Our group decided to take the road heading back to camp. Almost immediately we came upon freshly cut trees. Some of these trees were quite large and had been cut with a chainsaw and dragged off the trail. This trend continued for most of the way back to the Sheep Cliffs junction. Towards the end, the trail was crowded with the trees growing high and tight along the trail. Otherwise, it was clear and easy to navigate. As expected, this trail deposited us at the base of the climb up to the Saddle, and not far from the Sheep Cliffs junction.
Over another campfire meeting that night, it was decided that we would strike out for Ice Lake the next day and use the fire road both ways. It was less climbing and more direct than our original route.
With fresh horses, we hit the trail early on July 26th. It was going to be a big day, even if everything went according to plan.
Our horses that day were three chestnut CRTWH mares and one black AQHA mare. Rick was riding LL’s Scarlet Sunset (JJ for short), Steeve was riding MGW Handcuffs for Harriet, and I was riding MGW Full Throttle Freda. Alyssa was riding Echo, her very talented long-distance mount. She was also riding in her Pandora saddle with everything she would need strapped to her back, as if she were riding in the Mongol Derby. The rest of us had the usual gear, slickers, saddle bags, wide-brimmed hats, a rifle and bear spray.
The beginning of our ride was relaxed, until we came to the junction that would take us to Ice Lake. Our horses carried us over the invisible border onto new trails. This part was quite eery as the trail cuts across and down a mountain side through an old burn. The trees screech and wail in the wind. Alyssa said it sounded like the souls of the trees screaming. I found it very eery. Not to mention all the bear sign.
This trail dumped us into a beautiful meadow with a large (empty) camp including horse corrals and tie rails. Pretty soon we started to see very nice signs indicating we were on a wagon trail. I think at this point, we were officially in the Panther and on what Rick called a “high traffic area”. This was the wagon trail heading in from the Panther campsite. This highway rolled alongside the river. We passed a few established camps that looked like small canvas towns. There were so many buildings, all safely circled by electric wire.
At the base of Ice Lake there was also a sign, it indicated we were 5 kilometers away. Steeve elected to stay at the base and let his horse rest while he ate lunch. Rick, Alyssa and I started the arduous climb up. It was beautiful, an idyllic forest to ride through, albeit with an incredibly steep incline. To make it worse, there is another sign. This one tells says you still have four more kilometers to go. It was a bit disheartening to read, it felt like we had climbed more than that. The three of us stopped at the sign and I decided to turn around. Rick disagreed with my choice. He wanted us to stay together. Not wanting to argue, I gave in and agreed to continue with Alyssa and Rick.
Not long after, I heard a horse coming up the trail behind me. It was Steeve and Harriet. He said she made such a fuss when everyone left that he figured he might as well be riding with us. She wasn’t going to rest anyways!
With the group back together, we took our time climbing, giving the horses lots of breaks. At one point after gaining some serious altitude, I decided to get off and walk Freda. The long, slow climb was hard on my back (not to mention Freda’s), so I used my own two feet to get the rest of the way up.
We came upon a tie rail at the base of another steep climb. Here our horses waited while us four continued the climb. Even at the top of that, I saw that we had to walk a bit further before reaching the lip that led down to the lake. We all took a seat on the edge and enjoyed the view. The fish were jumping like crazy and it was fun to watch. Steeve was scouting goat trails on the mountain top across from us, saying things like “I’m sure we could get back that way”. I promptly ignored him.
It was already 2pm at this point, maybe a little after, and everyone felt the press of time. We passed around a celebratory drink, had some snacks and then boogied back down to our horses.
The five kilometers down went much faster than the arduous climb up to Ice Lake. By the time we reached the base of the mountain, it was clear at this point that our horses were splitting into two groups. Echo and Freda timed up automatically, after doing so many training rides for CTR together. They had also just finished a 50-mile competition in June, so they truly were in sync. Harriet and JJ timed up well together and had the same steady, slower pace.
This time the group agreed to split, each of us with a Garmin Inreach.
On our way back we crossed paths with a wagon train heading in. It was like a scene from the old west. A beautiful, matched pair of black draft horses pulling a wagon with a stream of riders on horses and mules, their dogs trailing alongside.
As we gained altitude riding through the screaming tree forest, I kept looking back to see if I could see the other half of our group, but they were out of sight. Alyssa and I didn’t see anyone or anything else until we crossed the river into the Bighorn campsite at 6:30 pm.
I checked my watch and started my timer to see how far behind the guys were. Meanwhile, each of us went about our own tasks of taking care of our hard-working mares and then tending to the other horses that had hung out at camp during the day.
Steeve and Rick were 45 minutes behind us. Rick rode up first. He told me to turn the heater on in the trailer, that Steeve had gone for a swim in the river. I looked down the road and could see Steeve walking Harriet. Both appeared fine, other than being soaked head to toe. As Steeve drew closer, I could hear his boots squish with every step. I ran over and told him to give me Harriet so he could go change in the trailer.
He looked at me and gave me that big stupid grin and said, “No thank you, I will finish my walk of shame, and I’ll take care of my horse.” Since he is a very stubborn Frenchman, I didn’t argue but I also stuck close and helped peel the tack off a very unhappy looking red mare.
Steeve said that after the first river crossing before camp, he could feel Harriet swaying underneath him with the current. At the second river crossing, he stuck close to Rick and JJ, but Harriet just couldn’t keep her balance in the current and went down. Luckily both were able to get back to their feet, although Harriet crossed on her own with Steeve slogging across behind her. Some campers on the other side caught Harriet for him.
Strava tracked our distance at 64 kilometres. Our total moving time was nine hours and eleven minutes. Our horses all recovered quickly and enjoyed some well-deserved time off. 64 kilometers may seem like a lot to some people, but when these animals are conditioned and fed properly, us riders are really the weak spot. These horses are amazing athletes with incredible hearts and absolutely zero quit. Keep in mind a typical long-distance competition is 50 miles and our ride that day was only 40 miles. (CTR and ERA track distance in miles, so we usually track our rides accordingly).
Alyssa left us a few days later to ride Mongolian horses across the steppe. The rest of us spent another week there riding and exploring as much as we could, before we were forced back into cell service.
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