A Night Out Yonder

"The scariest thing I've ever done is watch my daughter ride off into the dark."

June is the green month in the Great Basin. That is, it is greener than the usual sagebrush sea that Nevada is known for. The Winter of '23 has broken records across the West for snowpack. This has rendered high mountain summits impassable even to horse traffic. The Spring Melt combined with a series of juicy thunderstorms has flooded many roadways and ranches. Dry Wells is no longer dry.

This has all created problems for the Pony Express Re-Ride. On top of that, the NPEA, for some reason, started the Re-Ride way beyond its normal schedule. Usually the 10-day event straddles the weeks before and after the full moon, providing light for the nightriders. This year, they would be crossing desert wilderness in full darkness.

The Pony riders we supported with radio communications were hampered by the flooding at Grubb's Wells, the starting point for their segment. They were grateful, however, that previous segments were forced to detour onto Hwy 50. The Re-Ride was two hours early. Our group figured they could finish their runs and go home without needing to camp overnight at Robert's Creek Ranch.

In the past, Jeff and I have met many riders from our relay camp on Overland Pass West. Stories of that adventure were covered in my Substack article, Riding for the Pony. Most of those riders were old veterans of the run. Our new assignment at Roberts Creek Ranch brought us younger people from Elko. The oldest among them was in his 50s.

Retiring as Ride Captain this year, Andy would undoubtedly continue riding for the Pony, carrying the mochila through Telegraph Canyon to Overland Pass. He was almost giddy this year, thinking he would be finished by midnight. A few years ago, he spent hours waiting at that windy summit in "a full-on blizzard." He was hypothermic by the time the other riders arrived from the east. That was also the year AFTER we stopped camping there. Had we continued with that assignment, we could've provided shelter for Andy and his horse. We've lobbied for even a wall to be a windbreak, but apparently it's too much to ask.

Travis, an attorney out of Elko, brought a few friends with him to do the Re-Ride for the first time. They didn't really know what to expect, even as Andy instructed them about the protocols of transferring the mochila from horse to horse.  Curtis, also an attorney, had been a ranch kid in California before moving to Elko. He wasn't a stranger to horses or the rigors of western life.

There was a couple, Nick and Leslie, who would ride together. A graduate of the Colorado School of Mining, Leslie came to Elko to work for the mines for "just two years." Twelve years later, she's still working at the mine. Nick is Afro-American and said he left Santa Rosa, CA "to find freedom." From what we've heard of the political shenanigans in Sacramento, we sort of understood what he meant. We did wonder, however, just how much experience he had riding horses. He was about to get a real taste of the Wild West.

Another rider who would receive the mochila at our camp was Travis’ wife, Cami. She was laboring under a bit of a hangover from a music festival in Elko the night before reporting for duty as a Pony Express rider. Travis assured everyone that this was not usual behavior for Cami.

Finally, there was fifteen-year-old Kinley whose parents, Diana and Steve, support her in fifty-mile endurance rides. Kinley has already made a name for herself in the national association, completing most of the Top Ten endurance challenges sponsored by that organization.

As we talked around the potluck table, Kinley's feisty fox trotter mare, Lady, was proving she was anything but while corralled with Andy's geldings. I couldn't tell whether she was racing around the paddock in distress or if she was the ultimate tease. Diana assured me that Lady was truly a hussy.

Since Kinley and Lady were accustomed to running long distance races, this little twelve-mile jaunt would hardly break a sweat. Diana was concerned, though, that it would be in total darkness.  And Kinley would be riding alone instead with crowds of other riders around her. Also, the forty-pound mochila was extra weight that Lady wasn't used to carrying. She was a diminutive horse, only about fourteen hands high, with the lean body of an Arabian. Fast and hot-blooded. Would this heavy pack cause her to rebel?

Enter Kevin, a ham radio operator who would be following Kinley in his four-wheel-drive vehicle. He talked with her about how close she wanted him behind her and what to expect from road conditions. They had all previewed their part of the trail the previous week with Andy and found the spongy meadow that is usually around Grubb's Wells was now waist-deep with floodwaters. They would have to find a detour.

Then the message came that the section riders before our team had to make their runs along Hwy. 50. This may seem like the Easy Button except that even at night there are trucks whizzing by with heavy loads. Most truckers don't seem to notice anything going on ahead of them until they're practically on it. Hwy 50 is just a two-lane road. When you've got a parade of horse trailers following a rider on a potentially spooky horse, things can get more interesting than you'd like. Jeff and I have had nightmares from this scenario.

After enjoying a potluck spread of sugary desserts to boost energy, the Roberts Creek riders loaded up their horses and took off. Only Travis and Cami remained, as she would be the receiving rider. Judging from the messages, we expected Kinley's arrival to be close to 9:30. But the night dragged on.

The winds from a couple of rain squalls had died down, but a wisp of breeze bit through our layers of sweaters and coats. Travis and Cami ducked into their camper. Instead of hanging out under our pop-up, Jeff and I sat in the Jeep to keep warm. His HF antenna failed to resonate as it had at home, so all we could do was rely on our 2-meter radio's Simplex frequency. Luckily, Jeff's cell phone picked up three bars of service and we could call the base operator back in Carson City. She told us about the detours at Grubb's Well's and things were getting behind schedule again.

It was getting colder and darker. Coyotes howled to the south of us, the direction from which Kinley would come. We hoped they wouldn't cause problems for her. Then we heard animal noises coming from near the gate where she would enter. I thought about Nick, Leslie, and Curtis all standing out there for hours. Their waits would drag on much longer than they expected. And there was no way to get information to them. Cell phone coverage is spotty at best in America's Outback.

Jeff tried calling out to Kevin several times, but Simplex's line-of-sight signal remained silent. There was nothing else we could do. The hours crept on. I dozed uneasily, wondering how everyone was faring.

We couldn't even enjoy listening to the reports from other hams following the Pony as we had been able to do in the past. While Roberts Creek Ranch is located in a beautiful, grassy plain surrounded by mountains, it was particularly lonesome tonight.

The only lights came from a mine against a nearby mountain. Truck lights up the hill wandered around in indefinable routes. The glare of the lights at the processing plant formed the face of a bug … perhaps a Praying Mantis. We got out of the Jeep long enough to gaze at the stars. Just that little bit of glare from the mine obscured the blanket of stars visible in Nevada's dark skies. Constellations stood out, though. I found Scorpio immediately, but was that long wavy line Draco the Dragon?

We kept our eyes to the south where more stars were visible. Occasionally, we spotted what looked like lights, but they'd blinked out. Were we seeing cars traveling along the highway a dozen miles away?

At one point, I got out to walk the stiffness from my body. The ranch house huddled in shadow. When we had arrived that afternoon, three trucks of ranch hands were leaving. They didn't return all night. It was just us and a couple of cows that had wandered onto the driveway. Would they cause problems for Cami when she started her run?

Finally, a scratchy signal emerged from the radio. They were headed toward Three Bar Road. And ???? The report stopped there. We puzzled over what they planned to do. Would they go along the highway? Or would they go up Three Bar to Grubb's Wells and then start their run? What about that flooding we'd heard about? The confusion was maddening. We hams were supposed to be the "news media" in this endeavor. Our frustration grew the longer we all had to wait.

What's more, Andy's hopes for an early finish was not looking good.

At last, a flash of light popped up to the south. Up and down it danced. "It's Kinley," Jeff called out. "They're coming." Ironically, Kevin's headlights reached us before his radio signal did. Just then, Diana and Steve drove up with the trailer. Diana came over to me to watch Kinley's arrival.

"The scariest thing I've every done is watch my daughter ride off into the dark. Thank goodness Kevin was following her."

She went on to tell about a herd of wild horses they'd seen. Kinley was concerned about them, especially with her hot little mare acting so flirty earlier that day. Stallions are known to steal mares from riders on the range. The riders don't fare well in the process.

As Kinley and Lady trotted slowly into camp, I rushed up to talk to her. Dismounting, she faced me, giggling. She was too giddy with adrenalin to answer my questions. Her joy provided the answers, though.

Without much ado, Travis and Cami transferred the mochila to her horse and off she went into the dark. Travis would meet her at the end of her five-mile run and carry on from there.

It took a while for amped-up Kinley and Lady to settle down for the night. Despite her excitement, I'll bet Kinley slept deeply. What would her friends back in Silver Creek think of this young champion? There were a lot of horsey girls in her neighborhood club, but how many of them would ride through the darkness, carrying mail in a relay the scope of the Pony Express Re-Ride?

To look at Kinley, one would assume she's a shy girl with the usual dreams of an adolescent girl. Horses are powerful in a girl's life, though, and the pairing of this talented young lady and her spirited horse will carry both of them on trails way beyond the norm.

A video of Nevada Pony Express Re-riders