Chapter 15 ~ Page 197
One cute little girl from Los Angeles kept repeating, "I wish I had a horse." So I gave her The Colonel. The conditions were that we be allowed to use "her" horse until the finish of the trip. After that, we would take care of him up to the time she was able to provide a good home for him.
Thanks to my mom, and an old friend Merle Pugh, Director of Public Information at the U.S. Forest Service Regional Headquarters in Portland, Mrs. Murray's son the horse packer, and family, were becoming quite notorious. The word had
already been put out. We also had scheduled press conferences at Mt. Hood, and The Bridge of the Gods on the Columbia River. We had avoided any publicity since our newspaper interview at Campo. But, how can a person argue with a proud parent?
One outcome of this attention was two rag-tag saddle tramps that rode by to say, "Howdy." Actually, they were Portland firemen out having one hell-of-a-time, whooping it up the trail. This was the third summer vacation they had spent doing the Oregon Skyline, a week at a time.
We enjoyed these two, as it was becoming a bit uncomfortable being a 'hero' for all the tourists. With Bill and Hoppy, it was possible to run each other's outfit down, all in good fun.
I noticed each was wearing only one spur, from a pair. "Hey," I joshed, "what do you guys do? Jab your horse on one side only? It seems to me you would end up riding around in a circle all day."
They also were packing tiny little ponies, which was good for another laugh. And a comeback.
"Well we have to go around in a circle now and then to slow our pint-sized-pack-string down. Otherwise, they would run your slow moving nags right over."
A threat made in jest, this is just about what happened as we headed out again for the Mt. Jefferson Wilderness Area. I have to admit, packing 100 pounds each, on a handful of grain a day, these runts have to be the most efficient pack animals ever invented. As for being mere ponies, they gave us a real horserace whenever we all happened to head for the same meadow to camp.
I don't want to give the impression we didn't care for Bill and Hoppy's hospitality, if they got there first. I even kind of liked their pancakes made with beer, followed by peanut butter flavored coffee—"had a slight accident a few miles back." The problem was that their lead pony had to be restrained from picking a fight with Charlie Horse to whittle him down to size. Meeting them night after night also reminded us of the fact that we too shouldn't let our achievement be blown all out of proportion by a little publicity.
Thanks to my mom, and an old friend Merle Pugh, Director of Public Information at the U.S. Forest Service Regional Headquarters in Portland, Mrs. Murray's son the horse packer, and family, were becoming quite notorious. The word had
already been put out. We also had scheduled press conferences at Mt. Hood, and The Bridge of the Gods on the Columbia River. We had avoided any publicity since our newspaper interview at Campo. But, how can a person argue with a proud parent?One outcome of this attention was two rag-tag saddle tramps that rode by to say, "Howdy." Actually, they were Portland firemen out having one hell-of-a-time, whooping it up the trail. This was the third summer vacation they had spent doing the Oregon Skyline, a week at a time.
We enjoyed these two, as it was becoming a bit uncomfortable being a 'hero' for all the tourists. With Bill and Hoppy, it was possible to run each other's outfit down, all in good fun.
I noticed each was wearing only one spur, from a pair. "Hey," I joshed, "what do you guys do? Jab your horse on one side only? It seems to me you would end up riding around in a circle all day."
They also were packing tiny little ponies, which was good for another laugh. And a comeback.
"Well we have to go around in a circle now and then to slow our pint-sized-pack-string down. Otherwise, they would run your slow moving nags right over."
A threat made in jest, this is just about what happened as we headed out again for the Mt. Jefferson Wilderness Area. I have to admit, packing 100 pounds each, on a handful of grain a day, these runts have to be the most efficient pack animals ever invented. As for being mere ponies, they gave us a real horserace whenever we all happened to head for the same meadow to camp.
I don't want to give the impression we didn't care for Bill and Hoppy's hospitality, if they got there first. I even kind of liked their pancakes made with beer, followed by peanut butter flavored coffee—"had a slight accident a few miles back." The problem was that their lead pony had to be restrained from picking a fight with Charlie Horse to whittle him down to size. Meeting them night after night also reminded us of the fact that we too shouldn't let our achievement be blown all out of proportion by a little publicity.
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Text and Photographs © Barry Murray 1971-2007 Mac&Murray Multimedia