Hunting camp Cook tent on left, our sleeping tent in middle, hunters sleeping tent on right

HE MAKES A WAY

Have you ever looked at a mountain with slopes so steep you almost fell off your horse as you craned your neck to see the top, and wondered how in the world you and your horse would find a way up that timbered mountain? The trees are as thick as the hair on a bear’s back, the slope vertical with rock slides and cliffs, the way seems totally impossible. Yet, as you ride to the base of the slope, the timber opens up a few feet to reveal a trail that meanders and switch-backs and scrambles up that steep mountain. A trail all the way to the top.
Have you ever been in hunting camp deep in the wilderness when the snow is piling high on the tent sides and falling deep on the trails? When, somehow you have to get hunters, family, horses, dogs, and supplies to civilization before the mountain trails are completely impassable? Well John and I have and here’s the story.

Part 1 Evacuation
Sitting in the makeshift outhouse, which had a tarp wrapped around four trees, I enjoyed the open skylight view of snow laden fir trees and the feel of snow flakes falling gently on my upturned face. There was utter silence. I strained my ears but could not hear the usual twitter of snow birds or the bubbling of the creek or even the stomping of the horses. A deep hush had fallen on the mountains. I sighed and closed my eyes in the peacefulness of the winter wilderness. Suddenly with a plop, ice cold, wet snow covered my face, buried my lap and packed down my collar. My peace went flying out the tarp door and I made a sputtering exit from the outhouse, brushing off snow and swiping at my wet face. With my two dogs at my heels, I made fast tracks through the knee deep snow, back to the warmth of the wood stove in the big cook tent.

It had been snowing steadily for 24 hours and with snow piled half way up the 5 feet walls of the four tents we wondered how long we should stay in our hunting camp nestled 11 miles in the heart of the wilderness. John had taken the three hunters on horseback that morning saying they would be back before dark. As I tidied camp, cleaned the cook tent, watered, exercised and fed the remaining horses, I kept my eye on the sky and prayed they would make it back safe and sound.

I don’t remember what I fixed for supper that night, might have been fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, but between cooking and feeding the wood stove, I periodically glanced out the tent door at the rapidly dimming light and snow that seemed to be falling harder.

The fire in the stove crackled and Misti and Gabe sprawled in the dirt beside it, soaking up the warmth. I thought I heard voices. Gabe’s head came up, “Wooof”. Good, I thought, the guys are back. But wait a minute that sounds like a women’s voice! Gabe went to the tent door and stuck his head out wagging his long tail. A very familiar woman! What in the world!

I popped my head out the tent flap. Low and behold standing in the murky light, behind a curtain of snow, was my sister. Pulling my head back inside I shook it. Surely, I was seeing things. Gabe gambled outside and Misti dashed out barking excitedly. I peeked out the flap again and sure enough, there stood Ginger and her husband Dan bundled from head to toe in winter clothes, grinning from ear to ear. Way out here?! In the middle of no where?! How did they get here? I was speechless.

“Hi!” Ginger said breathlessly as if she was hoping beyond hope that this was the right place. Of course, it didn’t really matter, all she could see was the tent, shelter, warmth, maybe food.
“Looked like the Hilton!” She said later after telling us how they had hiked and trudged the long, hard way up that snowy trail, lost thier way and thought they would have to spend the night under the trees. “I never was so glad to see something in all my life!”

Later when they were soaking up the heat from the wood stove, the questions came. Where? How? And WHY? Of all places in the middle of the wilderness in a snow storm that would end up being the worst storm in that part of the country in 30 years, dumping record amounts of snow, causing power outages that lasted for days and locking the mountains up tight for the rest of the winter, causing many outfitters and hunters to loose equipment and rigs.

“Well,” Dan said, “you asked us to come in and tell you if you had an offer on your place.”

“Yeah?” I questioned. We had our property and cabin near Plains for sale since we planned to lease John’s uncle’s ranch and move to Trego MT.

“Well,” Dan says, “You have an offer.” Turns out it was a very good offer, for our asking price and it was urgent that we get back and sign papers ASAP. Urgent is urgent, you know.

About that time John came in with the hunters and after unsaddling and feeding horses, he ducked into the tent, stopped short, and said calmly, “Relatives! You just can’t get away from ’em!” Mistake number one. Never tell your relatives where you are going.

Later after everyone was warm, full and exceedingly satisfied, we spent a nice evening visiting and laughing accompanied by the occasional whoosh as the snow slid off the roof of the tent. Before going to our snug beds for the night, John said we would assess our situation in the morning. Ginger and Dan made warm beds in the cook tent, next to the wood stove with two dogs snuggled beside them.

Before dawn the next morning, I stuck my head out our sleeping tent and felt snow flakes on my face. “Still snowing,” I told John. All night I had heard the periodical whoosh of the snow sliding off the roof of the tent and had half expected the canvas sides to collapse under the weight.

Stepping over Ginger and Dan, I stoked up the wood stove and began breakfast preparations. Knowing there wouldn’t be any hunting this morning, we had slept in and dawn soon lightened the snow laddened sky. After our guests were up and John had fed the horses, he ducked into the tent, poured coffee from the pot on the stove and set down at the big picnic table.

“Well” he said slowly, “Since the tents are almost buried and the snow is now nearly three feet deep, we’ll go to plan B.”

Plan B consisted of packing up gear and what food we could take and getting the hunters, our relatives and the horses out of the mountains as soon as possible. We would get Ginger and Dan on their way back to Plains then settle in at the base camp where we had a wall tent set up and our camping trailer. We could hunt from there and it should be good hunting, John reasoned, since the elk would be pouring out of the high country.

So after a big breakfast, we all got busy packing. When I stepped outside in the light of day, I was amazed to see only the roofs of the four tents sticking out of the snow. The snow was indeed nearly up to my hips and I wondered how we would flounder our way down the 8 miles to the trail head where Ginger and Dan had left our Jeep. The hunters were in a panic and as soon as they had their gear packed, they left saying they could ride down the trail with no trouble. Mistake number two. Never, ever separate ranks.

When all three pack horses were loaded with gear and what food we thought we would need at base camp, we buttoned up the tents and with much prayer, embarked on the great expedition of evacuating the high country.

John led two pack horses in the front, Dan led another horse, Ginger rode our gentlest horse and I, with the two dogs, brought up the rear. I glanced back at our home-away-from-home snuggled amongst snow covered fir trees and wondered if I would ever see the tents in one piece again. With all the horses in front, I thought it would be easy going, but it was not. The churned up snow was still deep in the trail and slick in many places, covering rocks and roots that we tripped over. The packs on the horses drug in the snow on the sides of the trail. We were going basically downhill, but there were many canyons and hillsides to traverse up and down. Mistake number 3 never pack a horse when you can ride.

The horses were nervous and jumpy, due to the deep snow and being separated from the ones that went ahead. The borrowed pack horse tied on to Rocket, whom John led, was blind in one eye and spooky and when a branch behind him snapped he leaped forward, breaking the light twine and ran down the trail at full tilt with pack saddle flapping and snow flying.

We followed in his wake and before long, could see him ahead lying on his belly in the snow. As we neared, we saw red on the snow all around him and my heart was sickened. I thought for sure he had split his belly open and was bleeding out his life blood. However, he whinnied and tossed his head and as we walked up to him, we saw no wounds or flowing blood.
“What in the world?” I cried. John put some of the red snow in his mouth and laughed.
“Kool-Aid,” he said, “must have broken open in the pack.”

What a relief, however, Partner, was tangled in pack saddle ropes, cinches and his lead rope and in the process of untangling him John was kicked in the shin. Having gotten the pack saddle and the loaded panyards back on the quaking Appaloosa, we proceeded on down the long trail with me leading Partner. As it turned out Ginger could barely walk through the snow, so I let her ride the whole way out. However, she nearly froze to death since the snow had turned to near rain and before long all of us were soaked pretty much to the skin.

Soon after rescuing Partner, Rocket suddenly jumped ahead pulling the lead out of John’s hand and ran pell-mell down the trail. Oh my goodness! Soon, we came to a place where there was a steep bank of about 30 feet going down to the creek that had been trampled in a large area. We figured the hunters ahead of us had come to ill fate when Rocket had caught up to them and could only imagine what had happened. However since we did not find dead horses or dead bodies, we proceeded on down the trail, expecting at any moment to come upon some mangled form. After a short ways, we did see horses and hunters resting along the trail. Come to find out, Blue, who jumped when Rocket came running up behind, had fallen and rolled down the embankment. The hunter had jumped off and was okay, and Blue was unhurt, but the riffle had come out of the scabbard and was missing. After an extensive search, the riffle was found. Mystery solved. The whole concave continued slipping, sliding, and dragging on down the trail.

Snow plopped off a branch behind Partner and something very hard banged into my back, knocking me to the ground. I yelled and dear old Partner jumped back, having the sense not to run over the top of me. Thank the Lord! Mistake number 4. Never, ever borrow a blind horse. (I called him Powder cuz he was like a powder keg ready to blow)

John traded horses with me and I trudged on leading Rocket. My legs by this time felt like heavy blocks and I concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, without slipping and prayed for strength to keep going. Suddenly something spooked Rocket and he jumped into me, kicking my ankle which, thank God, was protected by my heavy boot. I limped on down the trail muttering under my breath. And praying we would all make it out of the mountains alive, well and with no broken bones. Mistake number 5. Never name a horse Rocket. (We had a Stormy too, but that’s another story)

I knew it was not far to the trail head where the Jeep was waiting. Ahh for soft seats, warm heater and four wheels that do not kick or knock you down. Poor Ginger was shaking and barely able to stay on Dusty. Soon the Jeep came into sight. My hopes fell, it was buried almost to the windows in snow.

John tried, but it would not budge, so he suggest us girls stay inside with the motor running and heater going while the guys hiked and rode the three miles to base camp. They were barely out of sight and Ginger started to pull off her wet and frozen clothes, replacing them with dry ones she had in the Jeep.

“Do you have any food in here?” I asked, rummaging around my pack to no avail. We had eaten the few snacks I had brought on the trail. Looking at my watch, I realized it had been many hours since breakfast and I had only eaten a few nuts on the way out. We had thought it would take two hours or so to make base camp and would eat lunch there. No wonder I was feeling weak and tired, beside the fact I had walked 8 mountain miles through deep snow. Mistake number 6. Never pack away all your food.

Ginger managed to find some snacks and we waited in comfortable warmth for a long time. The guys finally came back, with the chained up pickup, a chainsaw and a towing chain. Come to find out the road was full of downed trees, which they had to find their way over or around with the horses and cut out to get the pickup back to the trail head. They pulled the Jeep out and we finally made it to base camp. Only to find that the hunters, who had driven their own rig, had fled to safer ground.

“O-Kay,” John said, “On to Plan C.”

Eleven miles through hip deep snow on a treacherous mountain trail with nervous horses, novice horsemen, hypothermic weather conditions, no food, several dangerous incidents and seven people, eight horses and two dogs made it out safely with no serious injuries. That I would say was a God-thing. His angels were certainly surrounding us that day, whole legions of them, which we kept very busy.

“You have given me the shield of Your salvation. Your right hand has held me up (literally) Your gentleness has made me great. You enlarged my path under me so my feet did not slip.” Ps. 18:35-36

In life when it seems impossible to go on, when I do not see a way, when the mountain is steep, the snow is deep, the trail is impassable, when I can not lift my feet for another step, when I fall off the trail, when I reach the end and find out it is not really the end, God makes a way. He lifts me up, He holds me, He gives me strength, He makes the trail wide so my feet do not slip. He makes a way where there is no way.

“He also brought me out, of the wilderness, into a broad place. He delivers me, always, because He delights in me.” Ps. 18:19 (my emphasis)
To be continued with part 2

Snowing and Misti

Ginger in outhouse.

More snow. Preparing to evacuate camp

John and me

Ginger and Dan getting ready to leave camp