Dude String Blues

As summer jobs go, leading a bunch of urbanites along a wooded trail on horseback is a cool way to earn a few bucks. (hopefully not literally)

Dave Stamey song, Dude String Trail.

 Of all the summer jobs available to young people, the coolest of all has to be working as a trail ride guide at a resort. Any horsey girl would salivate at the prospect of spending sunny days with the animals she loves, right? Then I listened to my daughter after she dragged in from a long day of dealing with guests at the equestrian center where she worked in Truckee, CA.

Over the past century, people have become more urban and totally divorced from natural settings. It started with us Boomers, substituting actual horse experience in our lives with TV and movie cowboys like Roy Rogers, John Wayne, Clayton Moore and Jay Silverheels. All the gentlemen in those westerns had direct contact with horses when they were boys. John Wayne rode his horse to school. Ben Johnson and others grew up on cattle ranches and followed the rodeo circuit. We were one generation removed from those realities and our descendents touched sidewalks and keyboards far more often than horse flesh.

Luckily, our family lived closer to horse country and our daughter took full advantage. Becoming a "barn rat" with other girls from age eleven, she gleaned lots of stories about the dude wrangler life.

Tahoe Donner, a resort subdivision north of Truckee, employed her as soon as she turned fourteen to handle the pony concession. Tiny children, led along a "wild" track around the corrals by their parental units, gleaned memories that stayed with them until they brought their own kids to ride the two feisty Shetlands. This experience inured our daughter to pony treachery and vowed never to subject her children to such demons.

Moving up the hierarchy, she eventually led older visitors on trails along trails that were actually wild territory with bears, cougars, and deer going about their usual business. During one ride, she spotted a bear browsing beside the trail. She had to calmly reverse a long line of oblivious riders back up the trail to a safer place. Just one scream from a panicked rider would've sent horses, humans, and even the bear, into major chaos.

Photo by 🇸🇮 Janko Ferlič on Unsplash

In another incident, a dangerous situation developed along a steep trail. The single-horse-wide track fell off steeply on one side and willows hugged the uphill side. Suddenly, a woman near the back of the line started screaming to a friend on her cell phone that her horse had gotten tangled in the willows and she just didn't know what to do. Our daughter had to get off her horse, hoping it wouldn't walk away, then sidle between horses and cliff to this ridiculous woman who still whined into her cell phone. Our daughter managed to wrestle the cell phone from the woman's hand and pull the reins out of the willows without falling to her death. The poor, confused woman had to endure the rest of the ride without benefit of electronics.

* * * * *

Another episode wasn't quite so dire. Just inconvenient. One of our daughter's horses came up lame during a ride and she had found a huge stone wedged in the horse's hoof. Luckily, all wranglers carried a radio in their vests to call for help.

"Mom, can you bring me a hoof pick?"

Supermom to the rescue, jumping into her trusty Jeep Wrangler (appropriately named), tool in hand, and another wrangler riding shotgun just for fun. She was impressed with how the Jeep could handle the trail to where the riders waited. We even rolled over a rotting log across the trail. (It was probably placed there to hinder people from jeeping the horse trails … ahem.)  With the stone removed, the dude string proceeded down the trail. Crisis averted. It was just really cool that another bear wasn't around to check out all the hubbub in its woods. That particular area was called Bear Meadows because of the migration route many of them used to get to the garbage-laden neighborhood.

* * * * *

Cases of animal misidentification can be amusing, though. My urban-bred husband asked if a certain horse in the corral was deformed. "That's a donkey, dad." Much to his chagrin, it's become a family joke ever since. He's a wonderful sport.

Another gentleman asked a similar question while riding down the trail. A herd of mule deer grazed in the woods nearby and he asked, "What time of year do they turn into elk?" I swear by all that is holy this is true. Elk? I hope he doesn't go to Yellowstone to pet the fluffy cows.

While guiding inexperienced riders can be exasperating, trail guides often forget how special the horse experience is for a lot of people. This is an adventure they will take with them for the rest of their lives. It might even change a little kid's life if they manage to acquire an equine of their own. Nonetheless, it is stressful to deal with the public, as any waiter or desk clerk will tell us.

After a long, hard day in the hot sun, dust, flies, and rampant silliness, a dude string guide deserves a drink. Our local crew would meet at their favorite Mexican restaurant for a weekly "staff meeting" over a pitcher of margaritas. A pair of Olympic Valley wranglers seeking libations, however, landed in trouble with the law.

They rode their faithful steeds along the paved trail to tavern in Tahoe City. It's about an eight-mile ride on a paved trail alongside the Truckee River.

Our two thirsty wranglers had quite a few libations actually. When it came time to ride home, they were stopped by a dedicated member of law enforcement who charged them with an RUI … riding under the influence.

I forget how they managed to get back home and the fate of the horses, but that officer became the laughing stock of his station. A recent transplant from southern California, he didn't know that a horse always knows the way home. The riders could sleep all the way back to the bunkhouse in safety.

Photo by Emma Dau on Unsplash

These are just a few of the stories I can still remember. I have proudly boasted that my daughter grew up in a barn, to the scorn of my middle-class associates. Those were wonderful years, filled with lots of good memories. For the steadfast wranglers who give a fun experience to their guests while keeping riders safe and horses healthy, it can be a frustrating job.

And then there's the resort management to compound the stress. After one particularly mind-blowing phone conversation with the billing department, the barn manager barked, "we have thirteen bookkeepers and they still can't pay the feed bills."

That same barn manager also voiced her frustration to me as the summer drew to a close. "If they're going to call it tourist season, why can't we shoot 'em?"

Indeed, the visitors can be maddening enough, but neighbors, most of whom are part-time residents, can threaten the existence of a resort amenity.

One of the cowboys hired to help with heavy jobs took it upon himself to cover a particularly rocky trail with composted horse manure. It created a fluffy, soft landing for hooves as well as hikers' feet. It didn't sit well with a woman who complained the dust she kicked up during her morning jog got her shoes all dirty. YUCK! She failed to consider that, without the padding, she could twist an ankle or pull a hamstring.

She called the local water board who inspected the layout of the Center and decided the manure pile could be polluting the small vernal stream running past the ranch. They advised the Equestrian Center to relocate the pile to a place they had chosen.

So, Tahoe Donner moved the pile and all were happy, especially since the new location was directly behind the woman's house.

Moral of the story: be careful what you ask for.

photos by Sue Cauhape unless otherwise credited.

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Ghost in the Forest, available in paperback and Kindle versions on Amazon.

Book Review:

E.R. Flynn, Illustrator, Cartoonist, Storyteller and Creator of "Escape from Clowntown Comics" here on Substack.

"Ghost in The Forest" is a great read! Take note People. If you love stories about environmentalism and nature, its clash with urban mindsets, as well as personal transformation, this is the book for you!

"Ghost in The Forest" is a quick 126-page read. It's the story of Dori, a woman trapped in a mix of grief over parental loss and refusing to accept how her hometown and her friends have changed over the years. Because of this, Dori has become a recluse and a self-imposed misanthrope who finds more comfort amongst the hiking trails around her hometown of Morristown than in her dealings with the raw reality of other humans.

The book, in some ways, resembled Edward Abbey’s “Desert Solitaire” in that the story follows a protagonist's love of nature and angst about humans encroaching on it. In this case, it’s how Morristown is transforming into a mountain biking destination where cyclists run rampant on trails and nature.

However, a tragedy involving said mountain biking becomes a major pivot point for Dori, leading to a series of events that eventually bring about personal evolution and discovery.

If you're a nature lover, this book is a must-read. It beautifully portrays the clash between environmentalism and urban mindsets and the journey of personal transformation. The book's vivid descriptions of nature and the protagonist's love for it will surely intrigue you.