Turkey Creek – Day 2

Our second day at Turkey Creek held none of the excitement as the previous evening. Although it misted overnight, the wind had picked up and dried most of the trails. We rode back to the "scene of the crime" for further reflection on the ride of terror. I am NOT going to show you the picture of how that trail from hell looked in the daylight considering I convinced all of you we were unmercifully sliding into the abyss. And that is all I am going to say about that!

We kept to the lower ground trails in the morning, amazed at how the landscape is already changing colors. It was still chilly and we kept our jackets on until noon. We returned to the campground for a quick lunch and went back out on the trails for a short ride in the afternoon, taking in what we call the "enchanted forest", one of my favorite trails at Turkey Creek. By the time we were loaded to go home, the sun was shining once again.

Turkey Creek Ranch is just 2 hours north of me near Newcastle, Nebraska. Being horse folk themselves, owners John & Brenda Wortman truly cater to riders. I was excited that Brenda took the day off to ride with us as she knows all the good trails and the best views. I could not imagine having all this in your own back yard.

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Turkey Creek – The Extreme

Although not officially autumn yet, this time of year doesn't need a title; it is my favorite time to ride. I love everything about September; the warm days, sweatshirt weather in the evening and the red sumac. I love that the horses' coats are changing again and the winter growth makes their colors so vibrant again and so soft. And in case you are wondering why I love fall so much when I know what follows… well, I'm in complete denial about that: Live for the day.

This time of year is why I save my vacation days. When my boss got my "out of office" notice when he sent me an email, he replied, "Everything okay?" I reminded him it's time to ride and he authorized it. And while I was at it, I reminded him that this coming week is the beginning of Cowgirl Weekend and I'll be gone again!

Kathy and I made plans last month already to go to the Platte River Riders North's final ride at Turkey Creek near Newcastle this past Wednesday, contingent upon my trailer being fixed. It was, so we were going. We watched the weather on Tuesday and it didn't look promising, but come Wednesday morning, there was just a 40% chance of afternoon showers and clear that evening. That wasn't enough to worry us and we started out later that afternoon for the 2 hour drive north. And par for the course, about 3 miles from Turkey Creek, a black cloud from hell fell over us with such heavy rains and hail, it forced us to pull over. It didn't last long, but the roads were saturated.

As we reached the turn-off for Turkey Creek Ranch, I was a bit apprehensive as the 4WD has been out on the truck since the Wyoming debacle and I knew it would be hairy getting in there without it. I apologized in advance for the ride I was going to give the horses going in and then I gunned it. We went down a short hill, took a sharp turn left and then another sharp turn right and up a steeper hill. With the petal to the metal, we made it!

Turkey Creek Ranch is nestled in the bluffs on the Nebraska side of the Missouri River. The trails weave through the trees offering some climbs to the top for awesome views of the river and into the neighboring states of South Dakota and Iowa. The rain didn't dampen our spirits and it had been dry enough that the group thought that although the surface of the trails may be wet, the base should be good. Okay, that is what we told ourselves. We tend to lie to ourselves when we want to ride. The proprietor, Brenda Wortman, did not choose to ride with us. Something we all took note of later over the campfire.

Tammy "Sam" Alexander & Apache

We started down a muddy trail weaving through the trees with a mild ascent up the nearest bluff. I was maybe 3 or 4 horses back and could see horses in front of me struggle with their footing, so I would move Windy to the grassy part of the trail. She was more interested in the long grass than where she was walking and once at the top, the views, as always, are to die for.

Windy & I

After taking some pictures, we moved on along the ridge of the bluff. Every once in a while, I would glance behind me and see the other eighteen or so other riders following the trail. No one seemed to have any issues with the footing.

Doats & Eric

It was along this time that we evidently missed the turn we were to take and started to go down a hill. It was a little steep and a little slicker, but we got our footing again at the switchback. When the group got to the bottom, there was only two ways out and both of them took us back up to the trail we were just on. I rode ahead with two other people to check out the second trail to save us going back the same way. It looked good and before long, we all made it to the top again.

Off to the right was another mowed trail. We assumed this was the one Brenda had told us to take originally and we had missed. It was grassy with a slight decline; it didn't look at all as ominous as we would later reflect upon. Doats and Eric started to lead, Sam was behind them and I followed Sam. Kathy was right behind me.

I'm told that when Doats has a concern, we should listen because as a seasoned rider, she rarely complains. We heard her say "Oh, hell" and she slipped out of view about the time I saw Sam's horse, Apache, begin to slide. I thought he was going to fall to his hip. Windy went off to the right of Apache and when we were at their side; she hit the same greasy spot as he did and started to slide. I grabbed Sam's arm momentarily as if she would save me from where I was going. In a movie, we would have grasped hands until we could no longer hang on. But on the side of this bluff, I grabbed my reins again as I slid past her. I hear Kathy yelling at the others behind us, "Go back, Go back". I'm not sure if she really said "Save yourself!" or if that was embellished at the campfire, but we were all thinking that.

Windy got really big. In my mind, I envisioned her sitting on her butt with her hind legs sliding under her and her front legs between her hind legs trying to keep us from losing control and falling backwards. I remember looking up at her long neck and it seemed too close to me; almost parallel to my body. I think my feet were close to touching the ground, maybe even dragging, but I didn't look. My camera was around my neck. I wish I had the mind to hit "record", but at this point, I was "saving myself." We were going down (the hill that is) and it would be up to Windy to get me there safely. I had no control anymore.

I don't know how far we slid like that; maybe 20 feet? And it wasn't straight down, but there was no place for the horses to get traction so we kept on sliding. The horses just dropped to their hindquarters and let their engines take over. As we reached the bottom and solid footing, I hugged Windy around the neck and then turned to see Sam reach the bottom safely, too. Kathy was still chattering and sounded a bit panicked. She wasn't sure if her horse, Zuni, was falling or had it under control, so Sam and I assured her that Zuni was doing fine and she should let him finish the descent. A rider behind Kathy dismounted as his horse was about to slide into Zuni and that felt like the thing he should do to get control of his horse.

After the six of us were safely down, did we all start talking at once? The adrenalin was flowing, I know that! We weren't sure whether to high-five or drop to our knees and pray! I think we did a little of both. It seemed so dark down here in the trees. Like we lost what little sunlight we had going down the trail of hell. We all agreed to stay below and we started to work our way through the trees and back toward the trail head.

The riders who "saved themselves" had their own stories to tell which included a loose horse and more slipping and sliding. Around the campfire later that night, we all exchanged our "where were you" stories and the tales grew taller, no doubt. But let me tell you this, I never loved my little mare more. My heart was in my throat as I surrendered control to her. And she never let me down – literally or figuratively.

Ride Story Coming Up!

This past week, I snuck away for an overnight ride...

Well, we didn't ride overnight - just stayed overnight where we rode.

Finally, I have something to report.

Pictures and everything.

And just haven't had the time to sit down

and type up the story to do it justice.

But its coming.

After I work at the church dinner today.

After I finish packing for Cowgirl Weekend.

After I finish laundry....

The Weekend Interrupted

Coincidentally, this photo meets the Sunday Stills challenge: Power Lines

My husband and youngest son had big plans for the weekend. They were joining some friends for their own distance ride: a sixty mile, 3 day journey from Dodge County to Big Elk Park near Macy where they would meet up with me on Monday afternoon. We spent most of the day before packing their gear and trying the rigging on their horses. We had waited patiently for a chip in Butter’s hoof to grow out and luckily it did and the farrier got her shoed the day before their trip.

On the day of the ride, we unloaded in Ames, Nebraska and carefully saddled both horses who would be carrying much more than the rider’s weight to get everyone through the next three days. A train roared through Ames behind our trailer. I was pretty sure Ginger thought the devil had her tail. She was sweating before they even got started. At 10 minutes from departure, their friends called and said they would not be going after all. Shocked and disappointed, if they were to do this, they were on their own.

Although John and Case had packed their amenities, their friends had mapped the route. We didn’t even have a map in the truck. John knew where they planned to stop the first night, but after that, plans were vague. But they were bound and determined to carry on. I reluctantly let them go. About a mile out of town, the mother in me kicked in. How can they go without a map? Case will start whining, John will get impatient. Without their friends to break the monotony, riding 60 miles will grow old. I drove to the local Wal-Mart – the least I could do was get them a map. And headed back to where they started and followed their tracks 5 miles down the road.

I pulled over to the side of the road and watered the horses as John adjusted his gear. We sat down on the running board of the trailer to consult the topography map I had picked up. I no longer wanted to go to Macy. I wanted to be with my guys. We talked about where I could meet them, the logistics of this new ride and what I would do while I waited. Then I reminded them we had friends staying at Turkey Creek Ranch near Newcastle this weekend. Perhaps we should just go there and if John and Case still wanted to, they could pack in on their property. It didn’t take much arm twisting. We unsaddled their horses, loaded them back up with Windy and off to northern Nebraska we went!

Turkey Creek Ranch near Newcastle is a little taste of paradise in northeastern Nebraska. Tucked high above the Missouri River, this pristine camp offers hundreds of acres with forest riding and scenic views. I first visited here in 2007. I can’t believe I waited this long to return! Brenda and John Wortman of Turkey Creek certainly know horses and their horse camp is awesome! Truly one of the best in our state.

We pulled in next to our friends, Rich and Kathy Newberg, and set up camp. Although they had rain, the trails were in pretty decent shape as we headed out later that afternoon! It was even more beautiful than I remembered! We climbed the hill to the cabin which overlooks the Missouri River. Then began our descent into what I call the “enchanted forest”. The recent rains left everything fresh and green.

At one point during the ride, it began to rain. I hadn’t brought my raincoat so pulled out my disposable poncho from my pommel bag & started to open it. I think at first Windy thought it was licorice & kept looking back at me – as I usually treat her to a piece, too. But the bigger the poncho got, the more disturbed Windy was. It then dawned on me that although I take coats on and off while riding her all the time, perhaps I have never used the plastic bag thingy before.....

Kathy & Zuni

Meanwhile, Zuni - Kathy's horse - was disturbed as well, as she was putting on her rain coat. It didn't take us long to figure out he wasn't disturbed at her, but at me and my plastic bag. Although Windy was agitated, she wasn't out of control & I started moving her away from Zuni. She then started to quickly sidepass away from the sound in my hand. My instinct said to just get rid of the dang bag. My brain did not think about where I was dropping it. So what did I do? Dropped "the bomb" right behind Zuni!! Does anyone wonder how I keep my friends? Okay, so Kathy now has the eatin' dirt award thanks to me! I'll never live that one down as long as I live.

The rest of the ride was gorgeous! The rain stopped, the forest was fresh and although slick in spots, considering what we rode in last weekend, this was a walk in the park! Yesterday & today, Brenda Wortman came out and rode with us, both times on different horses, both beautiful. It is fun to ride with the owner exploring the new trails her husband is just cutting! Have I mentioned that I had forgotten how beautiful Turkey Creek is?

John & Case never did pack out. I think even though their plans changed, they were very happy with the outcome. The skies stayed overcast throughout yesterday, but no rain! Today the sun came out and the landscape again was a new picture in our eyes. We rode about 24 miles over the course of the last few days. Although not the weekend we envisioned, it turned out better than we planned.

PS: This was our first camping trip without our oldest son, McCain. He’s 15 years old now and has a part time job. Although we had a very good time, I missed him terribly!