Paradise Valley Ladies Only Work Bee, 2008

Hmmmm!!!! Work Bee? You can say that again !!

How do you pack a horse anyway? Better yet , how do you pack 2 horses?? Oh yeah, and ride another at the same time?

Whaddaya mean put a new roof on the outhouse?

It's where? The Warburton Trail?

Only one and half hours away on horseback you say. And you are going to have to cut the tin to size before you go and then pack it on your pack horse? ...and you also need a couple of 2x4s? Would that all be put on the same horse?

'Yup!'

'Tools, oh yeah, they go on the other pack horse.'

No power tools?

'Nope just saw, hammer, crowbar, nails, screws and a rachet.'

Whew!!!!

'Don’t forget lunch!!!'

I watched in wonder. How did those early pioneers do it anyway??

......

We left from Manning Park parking lot on a chilly September 15th morning. We loaded up, 46 carefully weighed pounds on each side of the horse. It was important that the weight be distributed evenly on both sides.

KB was the experienced one. He is a big Oldenberg warmblood of 26 years. He carried the main panniers containing all our food for the week. Molly, a skookum draft cross carried what's called a soft pack containing all the other miscellaneous and sundry stuff needed for a trip such as this. She didn’t have as much experience as KB, so was loaded off the saddle instead of using the big boxes tied on with the ever famous double diamond hitch.

Rose Schroeder was leading - riding one, leading two - me in the middle with Topper, and Sharon Pickthorne and Elsa riding drag. The day started cool, but soon warmed up and we were in our shirt sleeves.

We walked out onto the Dewdney Trail in Manning Park. This is the same trail the early settlers used to find their way into the interior of BC - lovely groomed trails, green west coast forest, all familiar all beautiful.

As we continued, the topography started to change. Got very rocky, lot of slides. The horses picked their way through slowly, conscientiously. I was impressed.

We passed a place called ‘Dry Lake’. Lots of rocks and logs. It would be a raging torrent in the spring.

Colours started to change: greens, every hue of red, magenta, yellow and gold. The sides of the mountains looked like they’d been painted with a brush dipped in red. Everywhere you looked there was a full palette of colour. Devils Club, lupine, horse tail, salmon berry, bear berry, leftover alpine flowers. It was a riot of colour: unplanned chaotic beauty.

As we got further up, the trees became sparser, and on parts of the trail you could smell the blueberries. Yummy!! Mushrooms grow up there in abundance this time of the year. Knowing some mushrooms are poisonous, we decided not to pick any.

Being the newby...I was snapping pictures right, left and center.

We passed the Manning Park border into Cascade Recreational area after a lot of UP! So now we were truly on our way into Paradise Valley. On we went, UP and UP some more.

I was told we had to cross eight bridges and then we were there. The fourth bridge had a couple of holes that I could see troubled Rose, and I had an idea we’d be back to fix it. Heaven only knew how we’d get that accomplished.

We continued on into the valley. The woods opened up onto a spectacular golden meadow. We made our way down a gentle slope. My first impression was one of relief that we were finally here. We’d been riding over four hours. Then I was struck by the beauty of the location.

A huge log cabin stood in the middle of the site as if overlooking its domain proudly. The snow capped mountains stood tall, looking down on the little valley. Green rich forest grew at their feet. A meadow spread out like a golden carpet everywhere.

The province had built this cabin years ago so rangers monitoring the area would have a place to stay. The logs were all flown in by helicopter. No electricity. It had originally been thought to use propane, but it wasn’t feasible to take it in and out over such a long way.

“Hey Deb, don’t I get to say anything?” Sure Topper go ahead...

‘Well all I can say is I’ve never had to work so hard in my life, and those rocks.. yikes! I was really glad to see the end of the trail and hopefully get to put my head down into that grassy meadow. The first thing the girls did was unpack and unsaddle us horses, and we waited in paddocks while Rose and Sharon put up an electric fence to mark out two pastures. Deb went into the cabin to unpack the food. I got to go in the pasture with Elsa 'cause her and I traveled up together in the trailer. Everyone had to wear hobbles, including me. Oh boy!

It just wasn’t the same as when we practiced at home. The ground here was all bumpy and dippy; the first thing I did was fall on my nose. Felt pretty dumb about it and I didn’t want to have a repeat performance, so I tried to act cool like I wasn’t really hungry. Needless to say, I didn’t get much grass that first night. Deb came and got me and took me to the paddocks. There was a barn there too.

She had brought water, and made me a really nice supper of soaked cubes stuff with grain and oats. It was really tasty and I was hungry. Then she put on my blanket. Ah bliss! Now my tummy was full, I had on my warm, cozy blanket. Man was I tired. I had a really good sleep that night.

Back to you Deb..."

After feeding the horses we finally went in to have dinner. I’d made clam chowder and frozen it the night before, so we just heated it up on the little camp stove we brought and then gratefully put our feet up around a warm fire, chatting companionably about the day. Went to bed early that night - could hardly keep my eyes open.

Next morning Rose was on a mission. Had to fix that bridge and go to Warburton cabin and look at the roof on the outhouse she had been asked to fix. So we saddled up, loaded up the horses and were on our way to the fourth bridge. We tied out horses to the trees and surveyed the situation. I tried to look like I knew what I was doing. I even offered a word here and there.

Sure enough, before we could fix it, a couple of logs had to come out. Problem was they were spiked in. Sharon handed me the hammer and crowbar and the unfortunate truth was out. "You want me to what??"

Needless to say, my two BCH mountain gal pals had the situation under control. Rose headed on out to cut down a tree exactly the size of the log needed, while Sharon struggled to get the rotten logs out. So we had a hammer, crowbar, saw, axe, maul and shovel. There was a lot of sweating, not too much swearing, a lot of ideas, and bingo out came the old and in came the new. We threw on some dirt. It looked great, good as new. I was impressed by their ingenuity.

“Hmph! You might have been impressed Deb, but us horses were getting pretty bored just standing around. Couldn’t even eat grass 'cause you tied us short. We were glad to get going. Warburton cabin here we come!!!

Okay Deb, you tell it your way..."

Rose told us about a nurse named Mary Warburton who loved to hike the trails in this region. She lost her way on one of her trips, wasn’t found for over six weeks. She was about to slit her wrists because she was starving to death. But an old mountain man named Podunk Davies found her just in time. She said he looked like the angel Gabriel. (He had a white beard and long white hair.) An RCMP officer was on the scene and took her to hospital, where she fully recovered. Not to be deterred, she continued to go out trekking until one day she never returned. The trail and cabin were named in memory of her.

Again we are in a valley and I’m impressed by the depth of the quiet. The little cabin has a sod roof with trees and grass growing on it. Last year one of the walls almost caved in under all the snow. Apparently they get about eight to ten feet. A Back Country Horseman named Val went in and somehow….got it back up again.

Just down from the cabin is a beaver dam where we scooped up some water for the horses. We decided to have lunch after we tied the horses. We had cheese and salami wraps, chocolate, dried fruit. I wished I had brought my little camp burner to make tea. Maybe next time.

Rose and Sharon started measuring up the roof on the little outhouse, and discussed what they needed and how they would go about their task. I tidied up the lunch stuff….oh well !

Soon we untied our horses and started home, satisfied with the work accomplished. Then it was about taking down the electric fence and setting up new pastures. While the gals did that, I went in and started dinner. Tonight we would have lamb chops, baby potatoes, green peas and mint sauce. Finally something I knew how to do. Oh, oh, had to use the campfire for the lamb. It was really good - either that or we were really hungry.

That evening Rose entertained us with some cowboy poetry she had memorized. One was my personal favorite. It is called “Shoein Pigeye'” I was in stitches I laughed so hard. After all that laughing I was completely worn out, so we were all early to bed again.

Topper: "Next morning, and I mean early, Deb gave me another yummy breakfast. The girls put up a new pasture area. I watched with interest and could tell that nowhere at this place was there electricity. Hmm! They moved the fence everyday so that the pastures wouldn’t get overgrazed. Good idea, alright by me.

Then they took us out to the new pasture and put our hobbles back on. By now I’d found my hobble legs I guess, 'cause I wasn’t having any trouble moving around this time. I could even lope, well sort of.

Truth be known, I was feeling a little homesick and would really liked to have joined the bigger herd. There was a white horse name Rusty; he reminded me of Rango, and two other horses, KB and Molly, who reminded me of Rio and Brilly. I knew the electric fence wasn’t on so I just kinda moseyed over or under the electric tape and made my way closer to the guys.

I heard Deb call from the cabin 'don’t do that, get back there Topper', but she was pretty far away, so I pretended I didn’t hear her. That day she caught up with me though and I had to wear a bell every time we went out. I guess she thought I might get lost. But no worries - I wouldn’t leave my new pals. That is, unless something very interesting happened and I had to investigate.

Elsa was OK but she didn’t really care whether I was there or not, she just wanted to eat grass. So next day I decided to take the plunge and invited myself into the other herd's pasture. I wandered around casually, trying for invisibility. Rusty, who I thought liked me, told me in no uncertain terms to get off his turf.

I did as I was told and went back to the other side, but I was pretty disappointed."

Deborah: Well here we are back at Warburton cabin. My pioneer gal pals are busy re-roofing the outhouse. I’m the gopher, seeing as my forte isn’t exactly sawing, measuring or nailing things. As for Topper, he's just standing around with the rest of the horses tied to incredibly strong hitching rails.

"Let me tell this part Deb.

I couldn’t believe all the stuff they loaded on my friend KB. They had roofing material, tools and 2x4s, strapped down through the middle for good measure. That horse never missed a beat, even though the 2x4s kept thumping him in the butt. I wouldn’t have put up with it for a minute but that KB never batted an eye. I know that Deb's heart was in her mouth 'cause we were walking behind KB with everything just a swingin'. She was worried I might get bonked by the 2x4s or that everything was going to go flying.

To top it off ,we had to pony Molly who was carrying the tools. That’s also not something Deb and I are used to doing. We had to come over a bridge and down through some deep mud, where we got a little tangled up. Sorry ‘bout that Deb.

“Its OK Topper, all this is new for you too.”

You could sure see how quickly things could go wrong way out here. Watching Rose this morning, as she was tying on all this paraphernalia, I could tell that she saw this as a personal challenge and that she was up for it. She was very much aware of the height and awkwardness of the pack. She knew this might overwhelm KB and there could be a wreck. Everything she did was with approach and retreat so KB knew exactly what was going up on his back. One step at a time, she proceeded with caution and confidence.

This woman could only be described as 'emotionally fit'. When you ride with Rose you feel her confidence and savvy, which is a good thing when you’re not feeling much of your own. Yessirree!! Pioneer women, both of them.

Sharon, always by Rose’s side asking how can she help, what can she do, making suggestions, nothing too much trouble or bother. She also has endless energy. Sharon knows her way around a building site too.

At one point, I was sitting at the picnic table. I listened as they laughed and chatted, 'we need to make a ladder if we want to get up there'... 'where’s the crowbar?'...'let me get my tape measure'…'OK nail that in then use the ratchet'…'careful, don’t fall off the roof.'

'Too bad we don’t have some descent nails; its going to be really hard putting those screws in by hand.'

The hammer echoed through the valley.

Eventually, it was time to go back to the cabin. That evening after supper, Sharon regaled us with stories of her once-in-a-lifetime trip to Africa. Next night it was all horsey talk, something we all love endlessly.

There’s lots of other stuff to tell, but its time to think about leaving Paradise Valley. Shucks, just as we were starting to get the hang of this. Rose reminded us that last year at this time there was snow on the ground. Better getta goin'!!

Topper: "I really enjoyed this holiday with you Deb, but you know what you always say. Us horses are motivated by comfort. I can’t wait to get home. As to which ride was the hardest? The ride in or the ride out? Its kind of a toss up. I know it was hard on your knees going down, but it was hard on us horses too. At least we were going down. I thought we all did OK though."

As I look back on my week from my cozy bedroom at Twincreeks I am overwhelmed with gratitude and wonder at the terrible beauty I had just experienced. The grandeur of the mountains, the valleys so beautiful yet so deadly if you weren’t properly prepared.

I am warm and safe. No wild animals. I have electricity, vehicles, stores, telephones, entertainment, radio, hot water, to name only a few of the many luxuries available to me. I am once again reminded to be grateful.

How did those early pioneers do it anyway?

Well, I guess they did it with men and women just like my friends. Rose and Sharon epitomize the heart of the pioneer. They have a desire to understand the old ways and the energy to follow through to the end of a project and not be overwhelmed by it. Ingenuity, tenacity, the drive, to name but a few of the qualities that they needed to draw on.

The Back Country Horseman organization encourages these characteristics in their members. They have a strong motivation to preserve the environment for future generations. To make wilderness trails more accessible to the rider, to build new trails and maintain them. They work with government and recreational groups to promote awareness and understanding for a cooperative wilderness experience. They also promote educational programs in safety, courtesy and environmental awareness.

Maybe if I continue to ride with them some of that back country savvy will rub off on Topper and me.

For now I’ll stick close to Rose and Sharon.

'We don’t want a wilderness trail named in memory of us do we Topper?'

I Love My Horse Rango

I wrote this poem 14 years ago, shortly after I got Rango and shortly after I began practicing "natural horsemanship."

I love my horse RANGO and he loves me

in his horsey way.

We are tuned in

he and I, or I like to think so

For better or worse

   we belong together

He looks to me as leader

   he wants me to set limits

   to give guidance.

He's looking for emotional

                          physical

                   and  mental fitness on my part.

He'll push if I'm not giving it.

When he doesn't see these qualities it angers him

He's looking for a worthy leader

14 years ago

He wants to respect me



   but he knows I must earn that respect.

He's looking for a leader he is able to follow with confidence

He will greet me with a nicker and ears forward in anticipation

 He will be a perfect and natural partner
content to be together and alert to my requests.
His responses will be immediate and whole hearted.
His desire will be to please me.

He will give me his bond and his devotion
He will follow me with confidence
He will yield his strength to me
he will follow me .. even to his death.
And so ...

I am learning to be a good leader for him

And he is learning to be a good partner for me

I love my horse Rango and he loves me

   in his horsey way

We are tuned in, he and I, or I like to think so

WE BELONG TOGETHER!

Misty Home At Last

Note: I wrote this in August of 2002 for Ernie (in the story) who was in the hospital at the time. It is one of our favourite stories.

Misty stood in the large kitchen looking at David, “wuf, wuf, wuf,” constantly, annoyingly, repetitively.  She turned in circles, walked back and forth from the middle of the room to the sliding glass doors.  “Shut up dog.”  She would not.  He was distracted and could not see any reason for her antics even though her message was pregnant with meaning.

Misty is a husky lab cross.  She had lived in Edmonton with her master and friend Ernie.  Ernie loved Misty and there was no question the feeling was mutual.

My family and I had just moved to Twin Creeks, an eight-acre farm on Vancouver Island.  We have two horses, Montana and Rango.  I was looking for a dog to go riding with me.  Our property backs onto the Trans Canada trail.  I can ride for miles but it is bear and cougar country and I was a bit nervous about riding alone.  A large dog seemed to be a good idea.  Turned out, Ernie was no longer able to stay at home.  He needed to sell his house and go into a Long Term Care facility.  His niece, Val, and I worked together. That is when I first heard of Misty.

Misty was Ernie’s pride and joy; she was his purpose for living.  He had been around dogs all his life and had done his own training, mostly for hunting.  Ernie’s training methods were very aggressive.  He was the ‘Alpha’ member.  No questioning authority, ‘you do it my way or else.’  Misty was a very sensitive dog and this was hard for her.  However her lessons were tempered by love and consistency so she learned quickly and well.

Ernie had become ill and lay in an acute care hospital bed.  Val took Misty in to visit him.  Misty moved hesitantly into the elevator and then cautiously down the hospital corridors and finally into Ernie’s room.  He looked down at her his eyes filling with tears and asked her up onto the bed.  She immediately complied, arranging all her seventy pounds comfortably alongside him.  She had wondered where he’d gone. She’d been pining for him over two weeks.  She’d lost weight.  But it would be all right now, her best friend was found and she was home at last.  Ernie fondly stroked his dog.  He didn’t know how to say ‘goodbye.’

Misty came to us from Edmonton via plane.  Val picked her up at the airport and brought her by car to Twin Creeks.  When she arrived, she promptly jumped out, quickly looked around and then came over and greeted, my husband Kip and my son David and myself.  She seemed very composed, very centered after her long trip.  Misty was four years old at the time.  Her coloring is white, gray and black.  She sports a husky mask, husky tail husky smile and lab nose and ears.  She was beautiful and we loved her at first sight.  After introductions were done we headed over to the field so Misty could stretch her legs.  Mactavish, our little ‘Scoodle,’(Scotty, Poodle) came too.  Tavvy, as he is affectionately called, is thirteen years old and deaf you would never guess it watching him, he can still go likety-split!!  Misty and Tavvy hit it off right away, running, jumping, dive-bombing and playing through the grass.  Romp over, Misty returned and walked sedately by our side back to the house…a real lady!!  After tea I put Misty’s leash on and waved goodbye to Val and her husband as they left.  I was concerned about Misty running away so I kept the leash by the door.  I needn’t have worried; she soon convinced me she wasn’t about to run off anywhere.  She seemed completely resigned to her new circumstances.  I say resigned because she didn’t appear to be happy.  She still wasn’t eating well and was a bit under weight.  Her manners were impeccable, but she reminded me of a little girl visiting, on her best behavior.  Her real personality seemed locked up inside somewhere.  I think she was homesick and depressed for the first few months.  Although she loved to run and play outside with the horses, when she came in she just didn’t have the same enthusiasm. 

I don’t think Misty had ever seen a horse before.  At first she thought they were big dogs, she tried to play with them a little to rambunctiously.  Rango took exception to her wild enthusiasm and took a kick at her.  Misty was a quick learner and toned down instinctively, not that she didn’t play, she played with Montana especially.  They’d take turns chasing each other.  They had some great games going.  Rango would just watch the antics with detached distain.  For the most part she still gives Rango a wide berth but with no hard feelings.

The first time I took Misty riding with me I knew I had the right dog.  She ran well out in front and kept up the pace easily.  When asked to stop and come, she’d come immediately.  When asked to go behind she’d do so willingly. However she did make it clear she’d rather be running up front clearing out all the lions and tigers and bears for me.

The first day Misty was here she found a pal up the road.  His name was Jake.  He was a very handsome yellow lab and quick as lightning.  They’d play for hours to see who was the fastest the strongest.  They’d chase each other til they both fell down exhausted.  Then they’d drag themselves to the creek for a long cold one!!  Unfortunately, Jake has since been confined to house arrest.  He was caught red handed chewing on one of the neighbours’ chickens.  So unless he plays truant Misty rarely sees him anymore.  It’s probably just as well.  Who knows what kind of trouble they would have eventually gotten themselves into?

Now Misty has other friends, a nervous pit bull from next door and a shaggy border collie from out back.  She is very social and makes friends easily.  However she is never tempted to leave the boundaries of the property. 

At first it was difficult for Misty to stay at home with Tavvy when we had to go to town.  She’d howl the roof down.  If she was outside she’d chase after the car and no amount of coaxing would convince her she must stay home.  A couple of times Kip wouldn’t see her following and she’d be brought home by an understanding neighbour.   I guess she thought we might leave and never come back and she wasn’t about to let that happen again.

Now she can be found each morning lounging on the back deck.  She loves to bake in the sun.  She walks out to the end of the long driveway with Kip and Tavvy to get the morning newspaper.  She then does her proprietary walk around the perimeter of the acreage.  This is her habit twice a day, morning and evening as she surveys all in her new domain.  She is often found positioned under the old maple tree, a vantage point where she can see everything going on in her world.

One day, a few months ago, Kip and I were out and David was at home alone.  He was in the kitchen making himself something to eat.  Misty had come in from out side.  She stood in the large kitchen looking at David.  ‘Wuf, wuf, wuf.’  David tried to ignore her.  ‘Wuf, wuf, wuf,’ she turned in circles, tail curled, walked back and forth to the door, ‘wuf, wuf, wuf’.  “Shut up dog.”  She continued, careful to stay out of his way, but insistently demanding his attention.  Fed up with her and unable to keep her quiet, he put her outside.  Now she barked loudly at him and in earnest.  He had to let her back in, ‘wuf, wuf, wuf,’ the process repeated itself.  This procedure would continue for about an hour and a half, according to David.  Finally, tired of the racket and a little curious, he gave in.  “Alright what do you want?”  She immediately stopped barking and went over to the patio doors and walked out onto the deck.  David followed.  Misty led him down the back stairs around the side of the house, down the driveway and over the bridge to the back five acres.  He opened the gate and they both went through.  Rango stood looking at him from about halfway up the field.  Misty moved out ahead, turning every few seconds to make sure David was following.  Rango joined them.  When they had moved three quarters of the way up the field they all stopped.  David looked around, “Where’s Montana??”  He looked carefully through the trees and in every corner, no Montana! .  It was then he glanced over to the left towards the next farmers field.  He caught a glimpse of Montana’s yellow gold coat.  At the same instant as he saw Montana both Misty and Rango, “went nuts,” as David puts it.  Rango started calling, running and bucking, Misty chased her tail and fell all over herself…with joy, I think!!!  Finally! 

Mission accomplished!!!

Montana, never satisfied to stay where he is put, had managed to find a way out of the pasture by going under the bridge and through some barbed wire.  He’d managed to get out but was unable to get back in.  I’m sure it had seemed like a good idea at the time, but adventures aren’t always all they are cracked up to be.  Good thing a guy has friends he can count on!  Rango made a beeline for the fence and Montana came over to rub noses with him and say thanks.  David opened the back gate and asked Montana to come back in which he did post haste.

Misty has been with us nine months and has settled in nicely.  She is now sharing some of the exuberance she has thus far reserved for her animal buddies.  Her appetite is healthy and she is most certainly happy in her world.  Sometimes I wonder what it is she thinks about out there under that old maple tree.  Whatever it is it certainly hasn’t distracted her from her perceived responsibility to this family.  Misty has proven to be a wonderful friend, companion and watchdog ‘extraordinaire’.  Misty, home again, at last!

The Old Cowboy Hat

Ahhh! 

There it was, couldn’t believe it. 

Exactly what I was looking for.

It was love at first sight even though it wasn’t much to look at.

White….well… dirty white anyway.

The brim had wire in it so it was bendable.

Very well used.

I tried it on.

Perfect fit.

I had been looking for a hat for ages but couldn’t find one to fit.

You just can’t beat Value Village for a good bargain.

Cost me a whole 5 bucks.

My horse and I rode many long hours for many years on South Vancouver Island.

That old hat kept the sun off my face and the rain out of my eyes.

If I hunkered down it’d keep the wet branches in the woods from dripping down the back of my neck.

When we went for a gallop I’d just squash it down hard to the top of my ears and ride like the wind, that old hat would just stay stuck on my head like glue.

Well as time went by we decided to travel to Kamloops BC to a place called Jandana Ranch.

When I left…. I forgot my trusty hat!!

.

Although they said they’d get it back to me, a whole year went by.

I eventually gave up and bought a new hat.

Shortly after that I heard that Jandana had a really bad fire.  Apart from being concerned about their loss I was sure now that my old hat would be a goner.

I was wrong. 

A friend brought it back with him on one of his trips up to Kamloops.

It didn’t look too bad, just a bit smoky and a little more rumpled.

I had another hat now.  So I gave it to my friend Roma. It fit her head like a glove, just as it had mine.

Roma and her husband Wayne had occasion to visit Jandana for the first time one year.  As Roma got out of the truck, Janice, the owner approached her.

She was not looking at Roma but at the hat.

“Is that Deb’s hat”?

That old hat sure got around. They all had a good laugh. It was a great introduction.

Well Roma wore that old hat for years.  People looked at her a little funny cause it was pretty cockeyed looking.

But it still kept the sun out of her eyes and the rain off her face.

You would see her squash it down hard to the top of her ears and ride like the wind.

That old hat would just stick like glue.

Finally the day came when Roma felt she needed to retire the old hat. 

She just couldn’t bring herself to throw it away though, so it went into her tack room to await its fate.

One day she got an email from Deb asking her if she still had their old hat and if so could she bring it down next time she was in town?  Deb had a special place to display it. After all it was her first cowboy hat and she couldn’t see it on the garbage heap either.

The moral of the story is just because something is well used, old and maybe a little cockeyed doesn’t necessarily effect its usefulness or purpose. 

Life is about finding your true purpose, it doesn’t much matter how that appears to the rest of the world.

I sure love that OLD COWBOY HAT !!