Scroll down for Glenn’s weekly story and updates from the ranch this week!

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This week on the ranch…

This week we’re sharing a series of photos taken by oldest daughter, Melanie. Some of these are back at the home ranch, during evening horse and cattle checks and a lot of them feature our latest camp move on the range. It’s all hands on deck this time of year. Enjoy a glimpse into this last week through the eyes of Melanie.

Want to follow along more day-to-day? Find us on Instagram and Facebook.

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Quote of the Week

“A thing is right when it tends to preserve the integrity, stability and beauty of the biotic community. It is wrong when it tends otherwise.”

-Aldo Leopold

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Dear Friends,

Golden aspens rustled quietly in the early morning breeze. The sun was just peaking up over the granitic-jagged spine of the Continental Divide, a few miles up-valley from where I opened the creaking gray lodgepole gate near the Morton barn.

It was Bob Morton’s place and had been for generations. He lived at the foot of the Lemhi Valley in a Salmon River tributary called Carmen Creek. Over the next few minutes, several of the other horsemen arrived. They literally showed up out of the woodwork, driving well-worn pickups pulling stock trailers laden with horses. It was the fall rendezvous of sorts, where they would swap “dude” and pack horses around.

Dude horses are bombproof, meaning very little can get them excited. Their job is to quietly and safely pack “dudes” into the backcountry. Dudes can range from overweight hunters who have wealth enough to pay guides for a complete wilderness hunt to physically or emotionally challenged kids from urban backgrounds who have never been on a horse before.

We had a few horses to throw into the pool from our summer string, but as the horses unloaded in the glint of a now risen sun, one in particular coming off of another trailer caught my eye, and I his.

He was a grulla–a brownish smoke gray–and was attentive and bright eyed. He was calm and thoughtful, and probably a little too high action for an inexperienced dude, but could easily carry a guide day after day.

And when our eyes met, I remembered, and I think he did too. He started his life of human interaction with us. Before that, he seemed so wild minded that I thought that we’d never “get a handle” on him. Melanie and then Linnaea poured heart and soul into him, putting up his unpredictable bucking and side running (down steep mountainsides). When I rode him, his spirit and sheer life about him was unforgettable. He was one of those horses, who, when we connected with him, we felt that he would just die for us.

And this story is how we found him, penned a few years back by my oldest daughter Melanie. Enjoy, dear reader.

Happy Trails,

Glenn

Read the story on our blog by clicking below!

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And that’s it for this week!

Thanks again for partnering in what we do!

Glenn, Caryl, cowgirls and cowboys at Alderspring.

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