Chapter 10 ~ Page 138
I, of course, had no plans or arrangements made ahead on how we were to get the horses out of the mountains. The best thing to do was to meet each problem in order. First came finding a meadow that wasn't too far from a road. The map showed a lake ahead, within four miles, that seemed to fit the requirements. Somehow, The Colonel and Petite must have known the end was in sight, for they both came along without the slightest protest.
Instead of feeling elated that our sojourn had ended for that season, Bernice and I could only talk about next year. Bernadette turned about in her saddle to join James in singing our trail song, and it sounded sad as a funeral dirge. Switchbacking down to Green Island Lakes Basin, with a glimpse of the promised meadow, 1,361 and a half miles from the customs house at Tecate, Mexico, the feeling was that part of our life was lived, lost except to memory.
Instead of feeling elated that our sojourn had ended for that season, Bernice and I could only talk about next year. Bernadette turned about in her saddle to join James in singing our trail song, and it sounded sad as a funeral dirge. Switchbacking down to Green Island Lakes Basin, with a glimpse of the promised meadow, 1,361 and a half miles from the customs house at Tecate, Mexico, the feeling was that part of our life was lived, lost except to memory.
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Text and Photographs © Barry Murray 1971-2007 Mac&Murray Multimedia