Helldorado

On Saturday B Troop made its annual trek to Tombstone from Fort Huachuca.  It is a 25 mile ride across the San Pedro Valley and takes approximately 10 hours including a 90 minute lunch stop.  I don't participate in the ride but provide the support to the column as it snakes its way across the valley.  The troopers usually set off between 0500 and 0600 while it is still cool and dark outside. 

The first leg of the journey is about 15 miles and crosses the east range of Fort Huachuca and ends at the San Pedro River for lunch.  I transport spare horses to the river in case we have any casualties and with the help of several others set up a lunch stop camp.  I also usually arrange to "ambush" the troopers as they pass through a long, deep wash called Graveyard Gulch.  This year one of the former troopers and I were equipped as bandits and were going to waylay the "unsuspecting" troopers.  Unfortunately, while we were on our way to the river with the spare horses I received a call that one of the horses (Wyatt) in the column had gone lame.  Thus the ambush was cancelled and I ended up running a rescue operation instead. 

I sent the lunch camp setup crew on to the river and I drove the horse trailer with the two spare horses in it to the east range to a point near where I expected the trooper to be.  Unfortunately, he was not there.  I phoned him and he told me he was still about a half mile from where I was but could not proceed closer because Wyatt refused to go any further.  The problem was that the road beyond the point I was at was not entirely suitable for vehicular traffic let alone a truck pulling a horse trailer.  It was very narrow, overgrown with brush, and bordered on one side with a deep ditch.  I confirmed with the trooper via cell phone that if I drove down the road I would have a turn around point and began the perilous journey down, not a road, but a path. 

It was not long before I realized the path was about to cross a sandy wash.  With a horse trailer loaded down with two 1,200 lb horses it was a no-go even with 4-wheel drive.  Fortunately, Wyatt upon seeing the trailer off in the distance was inspired to close the gap despite his injury.  I asked my co-pilot to dismount the vehicle and help me back up the trailer and reverse directions as the trooper and injured horse walked toward us.  Somehow we managed to get the truck and trailer turned around out in the middle of the wilderness and prepared to load the injured horse.  Wyatt needed no motivation to get in the trailer.  He was all too happy to get inside with his buddies.  

Threading our way back up the dirt path we finally emerged from the east range and made it back to the stables.  There I unloaded Wyatt and tended his injuries.  I could see no swelling and felt no heat but clearly he was lame.  I wrapped the leg and gave him two grams of bute and put him into his pen to rest.  Then we loaded up and headed to the river. 

Journey and Rod at the river.  Photo by Ty Holland

By the time we got to the river, the Troop was already there and dismounted.  The lunch crew had done a great job of setting up the lunch camp and Debbie was already checking the horses for injuries.   One of the horses, Sabre, was overheated and dehydrated and had to be pulled.  With Wyatt already down, we had to use both spare horses to remount the column.  We brought the two horses down the steep slope to the lunch camp so that the troopers could tack them up there.  Once the horses were all saddled I prepared to lead Sabre back up the slope.  I knew he wouldn't leave the herd behind so I planned to lead him up as part of the column.  Sabre, upon realizing what the other horses were doing decided to run up the river bank with me clinging to his lead rope.  He literally pulled me up the embankment.  It was like water skiing uphill with no skis on my feet. 

After getting Sabre loaded, we headed back to the fort to prepare for the next phase of operations.  Normally, we bed down at the Lucky Hills ranch on the west side of town and attend the parade the next morning.  However, this year the Lucky Hills was closed so we had to make alternate arrangements.  We arranged to set up a temporary staging area at the residence of a nice couple we know on the east side of town where we would have a barbecue and then return to the fort.  The next day we would just load up the horses again and take them back to Tombstone for the parade.  It is actually much easier, logistically speaking, to transport the horses back and forth rather than keeping them in Tombstone.  Arriving at our staging area, we quickly set up the barbecue.  Realizing it would be another hour before the column arrived we decided that the only logical thing to do at this point was to wait in a saloon we saw across the street.   There we stayed until the column rode by the front window and then we spilled out to great them.  Finally, the horses were all watered and fed and we could settle down to dinner ourselves. Our cook, Hop Sing, prepared a delicious meal of fried chicken, chili, beans, and corn bread.  

After dinner we loaded up again and went back to the fort.  After bedding down the horses, securing the weapons, and cleaning the trailer the day was finally over.  For some the day had begun at 0430.  Fourteen hours later, many of them were understandably ready to call it quits.  The rest of us headed back to Tombstone to meet at Big Nose Kate's.  Sometimes traditions must be upheld despite the personal cost.