Saturday morning dawned bright and clear. We saddled up and hit the trails after riding around the mountain a bit and looking at all the new cabins and permanent camps that had sprung up since some of us last visited. Lots of Mustangers and other horse folks come there to ride and let their hair down. We didn't ride too far on the Saturday morning ride, but just kinda looked around and let everyone get the feel of their horses. After all, some of us weren't on our regular mounts. Weldon and Beetlejuice had never met one another before, but they hit it right off.
After 6 or 8 miles we headed back to camp. The Friday brisket was cleaned up for lunch, and we started another one, first surrounding it with veggies and then wrapping it in aluminum foil. The new one was tucked into the coals for supper. We sat around just long enough to let lunch settle and then rode some more, visiting around the mountain with old friends like Jerry and Pam Paul, Charlie Young, Sisty Monroe, Clay Carter, Bryant and Milton Rickman and lots of others.
But first we rode to the famous spring house just across the dirt drive from Gilbert Jones' old house. Probably more Mustangs have been photographed against this famous rock building than anywhere else in the world.
More shots of the riders at the spring house.
Mike and Kyle took turns exploring the building while the other held their grulla mares, both Rowdy Yates daughters.
Gretch took a few shots with my digital camera--so Rowdy and I actually got to be in a couple of pictures here at the spring house. Rowdy's watching Mojo closely as we approach Jerry whose "sittin' on the group 'W' bench" (apologies to Arlo Guthrie)...
Mr. Yates even drank at the horse waterer Bryant Rickman added so the ponies could enjoy the spring water without having to go into the spring house. Was this a symbollic gesture?
Then we hit the trail again.
The clearcuts were sad in a way--we missed the towering trees that once shaded the dirt roads. But the newly opened views were dramatic.
On a side trail we found a massive rockpile built on a huge boulder. Rowdy and I posed beside it.
Jerry couldn't resist. He just HAD to have his picture made up there--on his horse. So he coaxed. And though only green-broke, Mojo was anxious to please....
Sure enough, up goes the paint.
And naturally, Jerry climbed aboard. What a shot!
We had a super ride just enjoying our ponies and breathing that Kiamichi air, free as birds, and wild as the wind. But when we got back to camp, that brisket with potatoes and carrots was beginning to sound good.