I was finally able to cross a bucket list ride off a few weeks ago in epic style with a friend I don’t get to hang out with much. As I pointed out to her while we stuffed ribs in our faces in her camper after a gorgeous 22 mile ride, it’s not like there’s a giant mountain range between us or anything! I don’t think this quick overnight trip could have gone better, between the stunning late summer/early fall weather, expansive views, and just enough adventure and mishaps to spice things up.

Originally on deck for this weekend was our last endurance ride of the season, but unfortunately it was cancelled due to the wildfires all around and smoke that hung in Central Oregon for days on end. Between the fires, smoke, heat and other reasons rides get cancelled, it’s one reason I front load my season and start hitting rides first thing in the spring; better a slow, soaking wet ride (Still Prineville) then none at all. With the weather looking too good to resist and the summer travel itch still in full swing, I hit up Sharalyn and convinced her to snap up two last minute camp sites at Big Meadows and downloaded the area maps into Gaia. It’s pretty much halfway between us, and we luckily managed to fit both rigs in the parking lot at the Santiam Pass trailhead, despite not showing up until noon, whew!

Our tentative original plan, since we didn’t get on trail til after noon, was to follow the Old Summit Pass to Jack Lake, then head straight back. We knew that trail was clear, and it was the shorter option. I booted Tarma up with hopes she wouldn’t have issues since we planned to mostly walk, loaded up a second set of saddle bags (Broke Supply Co, perfect for booze cruises), and predictably forgot one slightly critical item: Benny’s dog bowl. This was going to be the first real test of our new AMS saddle, and I did borrow a full seat/fender sheepskin from Shar to see if that solved the billet rubbing issue (which it did completely!) The views of Black Butte to the east and Mt. Washington and North Sister to the south were wonderful and smoke free due to the recent rains, and we made good time plowing through the brush. Unfortunately one of the trees caught Shar’s boot and flipped her off Rio when she couldn’t get it loose. Thankfully it happened in slow-mo and it wasn’t the worst fall, so like a true endurance rider she shook it off and hopped back on. We encountered a bunch of friendly hikers on this section, both day and through hikers, all were super nice and courteous to the horses. We chatted away and caught up with each other’s lives and drama, while the horses were happy to move out and well matched.

We made it to Jack Lake about 230 I think, loosening girths and taking a snack break. We let the horses graze while Benny had a field day splashing around in the water, like I’d made the lake just for him. A Wilderness Ranger showed up just as we were contemplating the super brushy way back (I already had one rip through my tights and gash on my knee) or heading forward towards the more ambitious loop around Three Finger Jack to the PCT I had mapped out on Gaia. He checked our permits (self-issued at the trail head), let us know the PCT was clear and that clinched our decision: A few extra miles wouldn’t be a burden to 50 miler fit horses, we had plenty of daylight left and no desire to forge back through the way we’d come a second time. We made the short trip to the next lake with ease and a few treat stops along the way. Tarma loves gently lifting carrots out of big-eyed kids hands. There is a short switchbacky climb from the lake to the PCT junction, which included a few big hops for Tarma (Rio’s longer legs were more useful in this section), which both horses ate up with gusto. Once we reached the top we agreed that wasn’t bad at all, and we started curving back gradually south. We were heading for the mountain, both of us slightly unaware that one more big climb awaited us.

This section of the PCT was wonderfully clear and chock full of beautiful views of Mt. Jefferson’s southern face and into the bowl of the Central Cascades. We were still chatting away and fully enjoying the afternoon, and I was taking a video when we rounded a corner with a stunning, so close you can touch it view of Three Fingered Jack right in front of us…and the trail ahead was real rugged! The mountain was dead ahead, the huge bowl to the meadow and a stream laid out before us…and way down below! We both immediately decided to hop off and navigate the short, all rock, steep switchbacks up to the pass on foot. We called this “Possible Tevis training!” and powered our way up with two short breaks to catch our breath. We made it to the top and I hugged Tarma for being careful and brave, and well, Shar and Rio’s faces tell the rest of how we felt!

We mounted back up and headed around the west side of the mountain, agreeing that it was still preferable to going back through all the brush on the Old Summit trail. We did have to dismount once more to walk off the southeast ridge as the trailbed was pretty narrow for a bit, but the views still made up for it. Once we dropped back into the tree line the trail was a dream, wonderfully soft footing, clear and comfortable as the sun started to set. I had to stop to water Benny as there’s not water on this section at all. The horses really hit mosey mode and kept eating, and we knew we were close enough, so we soaked up every bit of daylight.  We made it back to the trailhead right at dusk, where Benny promptly startled the shit out of some poor hiker by licking his leg as we walked back to our rig, sorry random guy! We untacked the horses, I checked Tarma’s sweat marks and back (not sore at all!), rubbed in some liniment, tossed blankets on, and loaded them up for the 20 minute haul down the pass to the campground.

Unfortunately, one of the sites Shar had reserved had someone well settled in it. The system for Big Meadows is super weird, and I feel leads directly to user conflicts: Although there’s a sign on the sites that say “You can camp here but it could be reserved online and you’ll have to move sites”, the lady wasn’t aware of it when we knocked on her door at 8pm to ask her to move. Luckily the first come first serve sites were empty, so we took those as well, but what would have happened if all the sites were full? Do we really want to oust someone (she said she’d been there since Wednesday and was leaving in the morning, same as us)? It didn’t feel good, even though it worked out. Shar cooked dinner while I got the horses settled in the nice corrals, then we both passed out in our respective campers. I didn’t sleep well for some reason as I usually do, even though it was just cold enough to be pleasant under all my blankets and one tired Labradork.

We took our time getting moving in the morning, Shar once again cooked (thank you!) and we settled on our route for the day, a relatively shorter out and back to Duffy Lake. I checked Tarma’s feet and heel bulbs in the light of day, and while they didn’t rub as badly as they had at the NC, I still didn’t want to ask her to wear front boots again. Taking a bit of a chance, I rode her out barefoot. This trail is much different, this area hasn’t burned and is lovely, classic Western Oregon: Big mixed conifers, plenty of moss and pine needles carpeting the ground, keeping everything cool and moist and shaded. There were some rocky bits, which Tarma still handled with ease, not taking a bad step all day. I did get off and walk the downhill rocky bits, and watching her navigate was interesting. We ran into a bunch of happy day hikers and one other rider. Tarma had led almost entirely the day before, and heading out of camp she started to bring out her Big Endurance Ride Feelings, so I asked and Shar said she was fine leading. This worked out as it took about a mile for Tarma to chill and enter booze cruise mode, not race mode. We once again snacked at the lake, this time Duffy Lake, and the backdrop was stunning for some fun photos. I’m slowly starting to give Tarma a bit more space when we’re hanging out this way, I don’t keep a death grip on her lead like I used to. She tells me pretty well what she’s going to do, and while spooks are always possible, she’s not a bolter…though I did worry for a second she might roll in the water in our brand new saddle, whoopsie! Eventually we headed back down, taking a lollipop route that was a bit less loved but also less rocky. My Ride with GPS was all over the place and said we did 15 miles, I believe Shar’s said closer to 12 or so, which felt about right.

I’m so proud of both Tarma and Benny…and myself! It’s been years of working and training all three of us to be able to handle a trip like this, heading into the wilderness fully prepared to enjoy a beautiful day and technical trails together. Benny listened well, bothered no one, didn’t chase any wildlife, and had a blast in every lake and stream we came across. Plus, he was able to show off his super handy skill of picking up Shar’s dropped water bottle and handing it back up, always a crowd pleaser among the mounted crowd! Except for one incident when we were waiting for Shar and Tarma tried to fling her butt off a cliff into space instead of just, you know, standing still, she was a total trail eating, smart little badass mountain mare. I managed to take care of myself well enough to hike when needed and keep all wits available for whatever we faced, and stay willing to lean into the adventure of it all.