My Name is Gideon. — 5 Shows and 400 Miles In

Before I begin, we are currently looking for hosts in:

Silver City, New Mexico
Lordsburg, New Mexico
and small towns in Central Arizona
all possibilities most welcome

We are doing well! We are alive! We are well fed and enthused to continue. My left butt cheek is rather sore and in need of adjustment but I'll get through it. The horses are muscled up and approach the trail and the road with determination and eagerness to arrive at dinner, which they've finally discovered lays ahead of them and not behind. I've found their gait has more energy and consistency when I am singing to them. I was delighted to make this discovery and disappointed to find my repertoire of songs I can remember is rather limited. Troubadour started farting a lot in protest when I sang Nat King Cole's Orange Colored Sky for the 17th time in a row so if anyone has any good recommendations for trail songs we'd welcome them.

I began from Creede, CO departing with my dear friend and mentor Jenny who has been a massive support in this journey. She rode the first two days with me up to the continental divide trail and towards the Weminuche wilderness. She brought beautiful fresh elk steaks and we grilled em on the camp fire atop willow branches. The steaks kept falling through the willow into the coals and ash. We ate the charred dusty saltless delicious meat laughing with the horses grazing by our side. It was a beautiful ride, on top of the world kinda stuff. My 7 and 12 year old geldings had a hard time keeping up with Jenny’s 25 year old mare but we did our best. On our second day we came to a point in the afternoon where we had to decide whether we should make camp or push forward to our desired destination for the day, we were considerably behind schedule because I hadn't much considered the terrain while estimating our mileage (rookie move). The horses seemed to have plenty of energy and we decided to press forward. The ground got rockier, the sun got lower and soon enough we found ourselves passing through fairly treacherous terrain at night with horses tired and hungry. We rode a good ten hours that day. The sunset framed the mountains in a crystalline amber glow and we had the pleasure of riding a couple hours with a full moon before getting the horses to safety for the night. We pushed em a bit too hard. We made the wrong choice to keep going thinking if we needed to we could camp in a few hours, but a few hours down the trail the landscape was not welcome to camping. All we could find was vast mesas with nothing to tie to for the night. We chose adventure and curiosity over slow caution. One of the big lessons here for me was that even if I'm traveling with a mentor or teacher or expert it doesn't mean we are insulated from danger or wrong choices. In hindsight Jenny agreed we should have played it safer and slowed down, taken an extra night. I think my enthusiasm pushed us ahead. Having said that neither of us will ever forget that day, that ride, the sunset silhouetting the mountains, the moonrise and the pleasure of feeding the horses at the end of it all. It meant the world to me that Jenny would see me off on the journey and I hope to ride with her again down the line.

Recently Gus and Troubadour got sore backs from a new padding system I was using. The sides of their withers were a bit swollen and they needed to rest a couple days. We made camp on the side of Forest Road 422 off the Manzano Mountains and hung out for a couple days. It was the first time in a while we'd spent that kind of slow time in the same space without moving, setting up camp or saddling up to go. They softened to me in those couple days. They'd hang around me in a new way even when they weren't hungry looking for food. They let me lean on em and pet em with a little less suspicion and caution. It has been a busy full on go go go experience thus far. While the horses have gotten good rest several times I've been hustling hard to pull shows together, clarify routes, understand access to different areas and arrange water and food drops in the more desolate spots.

Jenny and I departing from the pasture towards the cliffs of Creede en route to the Continental Divide Trail.

After very cold nights the horses and I most appreciate the moment when the sun comes over the ridge.

Troubadour used to back away from me when I approached him. Now he stands there with a raised eyebrow as if to say "Whatchoo want? You got a cookie? Whatchoo want?" so we are making progress. In few months I hope I'll approach and he'll throw his ar… — Troubadour used to back away from me when I approached him. Now he stands there with a raised eyebrow as if to say "Whatchoo want? You got a cookie? Whatchoo want?" so we are making progress. In few months I hope I'll approach and he'll throw his arms around me and tell me he loves me and maybe give me a cookie.

Colorado was ablaze with the aspen candy of Autumn. Easy to be swept up in the beauty of a view while walking along and miss the branch that is coming towards your face about to knock you off your horse and ruin your day.... or your face.

Simultaneous moonrise and sunset over Los Alamos. This was another series of miscalculations resulting in a 15 hour riding day, 6 hours of which was done on the Guaje Ridge Trail in the full moon light. My first home show host Duncan greeted us in a… — Simultaneous moonrise and sunset over Los Alamos. This was another series of miscalculations resulting in a 15 hour riding day, 6 hours of which was done on the Guaje Ridge Trail in the full moon light. My first home show host Duncan greeted us in a cemetery on his mountain bike with a headlamp at midnight to show us the way home. Some day I plan to do a full moon ride intentionally.

Sometimes I walk. It can be a welcome relief on my body as well as my riding horse. Here I'd clearly trained Gus to use the iPhone. This is us entering the Valles Caldera west of Los Alamos. Endless golden fields of grass and frozen puddles we broke… — Sometimes I walk. It can be a welcome relief on my body as well as my riding horse. Here I'd clearly trained Gus to use the iPhone. This is us entering the Valles Caldera west of Los Alamos. Endless golden fields of grass and frozen puddles we broke through to give the horses a drink.

This gentleman, ferrier Brad Dirickson in Santa Fe gave us our first shoeing away from our beloved Breck of Boulder UT. I was nervous to be in the hands of a new ferrier as some can mess your companions up! Brad had 35 years of experience and he was… — This gentleman, ferrier Brad Dirickson in Santa Fe gave us our first shoeing away from our beloved Breck of Boulder UT. I was nervous to be in the hands of a new ferrier as some can mess your companions up! Brad had 35 years of experience and he was clearly thoughtful, skilled and he worked slow and steady. This picture reminds me of the monopoly man which I quite enjoy. He felt Troubadours injury was healing well which came as a huge relief.

I think Brad liked me. I think making fun of myself and how little I know about anything helped. After he'd spent 4 hours working with the horses he took another half hour to make me a hand forged hoof pick from a horse shoe. Its got my initials and… — I think Brad liked me. I think making fun of myself and how little I know about anything helped. After he'd spent 4 hours working with the horses he took another half hour to make me a hand forged hoof pick from a horse shoe. Its got my initials and his name on it. Very sweet and useful gift.

Home show at hosto stupendo Nicole Lewin's. We had so much fun we did a second show in the same home for a new group of folks a couple days later! My host Nicole, from Zimbabwe, who we later discovered is likely my distant cousin, was incredibly gen… — Home show at hosto stupendo Nicole Lewin's. We had so much fun we did a second show in the same home for a new group of folks a couple days later! My host Nicole, from Zimbabwe, who we later discovered is likely my distant cousin, was incredibly generous and helpful with her time and enthusiasm for the project. She spent two days on the phone reaching out for connections to pull some shows together for me in this one particular area. Never had a host devote so much time and energy to helping the cause. We brought the horses up from the neighbors barn and made a mini corral so the audience could say hello.

Bob and Clarity. Met these guys through host Duncan who I met through Montana host Laura who I met through an audience member in LA. Linked up with them on the trail in the San Pedro Parks Wilderness and their packing Burros! They were most helpful … — Bob and Clarity. Met these guys through host Duncan who I met through Montana host Laura who I met through an audience member in LA. Linked up with them on the trail in the San Pedro Parks Wilderness and their packing Burros! They were most helpful in our navigation endeavor, the sharing of hot chocolate and general packing camping advice. Ended up coming to my show in Los Alamos and then delivering a hand made welded picket pin in Santa Fe. No small gift and a most useful item. Bob's been packing burros for eons. He makes his own pack saddles, rocket ships, harnesses and panniers!

Will Grant, my first fellow long riding pal.

In Santa Fe I met a neighbor of my host named Will Grant. Will is a journalist adventurer horseman extraordinaire. I was thrilled to learn a guy in the neighborhood had just completed the pony express trail, 140 nights from Missouri to California to write a book about it. Pony Express was a system of stations 15 miles apart where mail was traveled on horse back non stop. A letter could get from Missouri to California in ten days through this mounted relay system, but it only lasted 18 months! We met for a cup of coffee and talked shop for hours. There are certain bits and pieces that only a fellow long rider can understand. I don't think I'm a long rider yet, but I'm on my way. I felt understood, seen, and inspired by Will. His generosity with advice, time, thoughts and gear was primo fablitzo.

We rode one day together with his partner Claire and fellow neighbor and grand horse woman Evelyn. Nice to be in a roving bundle of horse mates. Some interesting new dynamics that involved some kicking and near leg breaking, but all turned out all right in the end. I discovered Gus has a territorial quality about him with new horse friends.

Will regaled me with stories about riding the Mongol Derby, the longest horse race at a 1000km, that you ride continuously using 25 different horses. You can read his article about the experience here. I also learned about the Central Asian game Kok Boru otherwise known as Headless Goat Polo. It's hands down the craziest game I'm ever heard of. You can see a sample here. Those sensitive to headless goats and horses running into each other should avoid the clip. While I don't plan on participating in this activity any time soon I would like to be able to pick things off the ground from atop a horse.

Another neighbor, Stuart, happened to be an equine chiropractor. I got the horses adjusted. I was nervous and excited to see how that worked. Stuart would run his hands over their backs, necks and hips and find what needed a little correction. He would give a violent, sudden, but calculated push into a particular spot to put shit back in place. I was astounded by how still and calm the horses were through the process. I thought the sudden movements would surely spook them, but they seemed to understand very clearly that this new person was there to help them out. It wasn't cheap but seemed absolutely;y worthwhile and came with a report of what Stuart found for us to give to the next chiropractor down the line.

Joanna, endurance riding musicologist getting her PHD in COWBOY SONGS!

I have encountered a most peculiar phenomenon of people pulling over on the side of the road to offer us a place to stay for the night, food, route advice and even cash money! A guy in crocodile boots pulled over just to give us a hundred dollar bill! I was astounded, bewildered and thankful. This wonderful person Joanna pulled over to give me her card and offer any support we might need. She had not noticed that Gus was carrying a banjo. She explained that she was an endurance rider, doing 50 and 100 miles races for years and that she was a musicologist getting her PHD in cowboy songs. What!!!!!???? I could not quite get over that combination. I stayed with her and her laser scientist husband Mike (working on atomic clocks for quantum computers) and their two fabulous kids Violet and Thaddeus. We talked cowboy songs through the evening and thumbed through the pages of her some gazillion cowboy song books. She's sent me several cowboy songs since departing and has been a most valuable and knowledgeable resource on all horse things.

Others pull over to take pictures or ask questions. Sometimes I can stop for a bit, sometimes we gotta keep moving. Folks radical kindness and generosity has little to do with me. It's all inspired by seeing a pack horse loaded with gear for living and traveling. That's what melts people down into a puddle of curiosity and eagerness to help.

Jessica hosted us in her home outside Golden for a night. The kids were nervous to have a stranger staying with them so she sent them to spend the night with her cousin, but they all came over to meet me and here a couple tunes and see some instruments. After I played a little and glued their eyebrows to the tops of their foreheads with my jews’ harp twanging I let them have a go on the banjo. We had 8 kids in the room. Each one had their own flare and panache, but this little guy, the youngest displayed rather astonishing rhythmic prowess with his simple but musical picking and strumming. I sang while he played. I think all the other kids, his mom and myself were all kinda blown away. Nice to be able to give some kinda gift back to folks who just host us and don't get a show.

My cowboy saviors Clint and Greg rescuing me from my piling peccadilloes.

This trip started in the Weminuche Wilderness, an astounding beautiful and remote part of the country. One morning I had let Gus wonder off to graze while I still had Troubadour nearby as they never leave each others’ side for too long. Gus wondered off further and for longer than usual. I had begun saddling up Troubadour and he was getting antsy. I made the mistake of riding him in his agitated way to go collect Gus. I let him brake into a trot which immediately turned into a dead run. If that happens you're supposed to take one rein and pull their face into their shoulder which keeps them from running. I did not do that. I experienced some sort of emotional panic blackout and did everything wrong. Don't even remember what wrong I did, but I know none of it was right. I come off my horse. That's what cowboys say. They never say I fell off. They say I come off my horse, like it was my choice and I just decided so. Ha!

Hit the ground hard. Scared the shit out of me. Everything cracked, took stock of my ability to move, then went after my horses. Expected to find them a couple hundred yards up as a horses flight path is some 400 yards normally. In the chaos of the moment they both took off running. Spent all day walking looking for them. Walked 15 miles in circles. The scariest thing was Troubadour had his saddle on still which can be deadly for a horse off wondering. Can get snagged on something, he could roll on it etc. It was a race to find him before he got hurt. I felt like the most perfidious dumb dumb that ever was. I got in touch with my brother on my GPS as we were still near some ATV tracks. He rallied some local cowboys, friends of friends, who came out to join the search. Greg and Clint of Long Ridge Outfitters could not have been more generous with their time and efforts. I was embarrassed, bewildered and exhausted. Bad weather was coming in by the time they arrived and they couldn't launch the drone they brought along to search. On their way back home Clint suggested they take one lil look over a ridge in the distance and sure enough they spotted the horses just grazing about a half mile off. Many lessons learned in the process. I am still daily grateful for their help, my brothers stupendous efforts in rallying a crew to save my ass and for R.E., a guy who was part of the search party who kept saying "I didn't do nothing" as he didn't find the horses. But he came out and looked!!!! And that’s everything.

About ten days later deep into the heart of the Weminuche I lost my horses again. I couldn't believe it. I was devastated enough the last time to vow to never let it happen again. But poof, they were gone. I had been using figure 8 weaver hobbles to keep them nearby while packing up camp. This was my method when there were no trees, bushes or rocks to tie them to. The hobbles keep their feet together enough so they don't run off, but give enough space to allow some movement for grazing. I had the hobbles on too loose, being too concerned I might chafe their skin. 4 moose came into camp by twin lakes at 12,000 feet and spooked both horses right out of their hobbles. I made the mistake of running after them when they were already in survival mindset and they were gone!

This time there was no ATV access and we were miles away from any other trail head. I hadn't seen another hiker in days. I walked and walked and walked searching for them. The willow brush was high so even from atop one of the peaks or high points they could easily be lost in the brush 6 feet high. I was afraid of the mama moose protecting her babies so nearby so I did some bush whacking through the willow with my pistol in one hand and my bear spray in the other. Of course I accidentally hit my bear spray canister, which had lost its safety cap, on the edge of my gun handle while stumbling and sprayed myself. It was just the tiniest of sprays but it left me coughing and gasping for a good ten minutes. Ain’t just peppers they put in that stuff. My GPS unit said I walked 20 miles in circles looking for them over 13 hours. I got back to my tent in the dark feeling utterly crushed and defeated.

The most devastating thing about searching for your horses in a wilderness is the perpetual pounding hope and disappoint that accompanies you through the search. I would see a white spot and a brown spot 800 feet away, a quarter mile away, a half mile away and I would freeze. That’s them! It has to be! And I would wait just staring at these two spots, my brothers, waiting for them to move and prove their horsiness. And they wouldn't move. They would stay completely still to the point they'd reveal they are just a rock and a stump. I will forever despise light brown stumps and bright white rocks. My heart would rise and expand with all the hope and hallelujah only to be pierced and drained into a dried prune, again and again, rounding every corner and climbing every peak. Hope and defeat, hope and defeat.

I texted my brother Isaac to see if he could help in any way. Next thing I knew a friend of ours in Creede, Michael Foal, was lending a hand. Michael is an astronaut who spent a great deal of time on the space station. He was generous enough to jump in his experimental glider plane, grab my brother and take off to my coordinates I sent them. I was so happy to have the 20 minutes of company even if they were a thousand feet above me. They circled the area 4 or 5 times looking to spot Gus and Troub, but with no luck. Isaac then made some arrangements with a cowboy named Dusty who was gonna bring a few horses in to pack me out and regroup. My plan was to try and hire Dusty or some other local cowboys to search with me on horseback for as many days as it took. Luckily this time neither horse had a saddle on so I wasn't as concerned about them getting injured. I went to sleep that night with a powerful amount of self rage, frustration and deep sadness at the possibility of not being able to find them.

In the morning while brushing my teeth I spotted 2 dots again, one brown one white, about a half mile away. I froze, bracing for heartbreak with a mouth full of toothpaste. I was completely still as if that might help those dots to MOVE and prove their horsiness. Nothing, nothing, nothing, then they moved. The dots moved and I knew it was Gus and Troubadour. I started running, toothbrush still in my mouth. By the time I got to that spot a half hour later they were gone. I looked for tracks. Then on a ridge a ways off I saw Gus silhouetted. When I finally got to them they just looked at me like "Hey Gid. Is it breakfast time? Is it leaving time? Where have you been?" We saddled up and hit the trail.

More soon. Apologies for missing my October newsletter. Will be sending another in a couple weeks.

Hallelujah,
G

This is my brother Isaac. My savior, my champion giving again and again to help his little bro find his way. Infinitely grateful to him and all those who have helped us get to this point.