My son, Wyatt (just turned 4), and I have just gotten back from again heading out into the wilds of Louisiana for a little camping and riding. This time, our area of choice was one of the five units of the Kisatchie Nat'l Forrest, which has a primitive horse camping facility. Apparently, according to the signage, primitive horse campgrounds are essentially thin woods with a road nearby that you pay $10 to use. No water, elect., or restrooms. This is fine by me, but carrying water for the horses became our biggest problem as my 55 gal water barrel decided to crack open like and egg as I was washing it out, 2 hours before we left.

I must say that I was very pleasantly surprised by the area and trails available, and we had a very nice ride, in terrain that can vary from mild to a bit challenging. More to come, along with pics, if the camera isn't broken.

I spent the weekend in the mountains. Trying to get into the high country. We saw a lot of elk in the 8000 to 9000 foot elevation. the elk were hanging out about 1000 feet lower than the snow line. any higher and the snow hasn't been gone long enough to let the grass grow yet. Leaves on the quakies have not leafed out yet.

It was a narrow road that we had to grind up to the area we camped at.


Here is looking down on our camp from the ridgeline


The friends that I joined for this camp out, allow their kids to ride the horses a lot. Actually grand kids. It scares me to see them riding around camp. But the mare seems to be a good baby sitter. and took good care of the kids.


We rode up to the snow line. when the snow drifts got deep, The water running off the mountain, made everything muddy and boggy, and nobody has been up mountain yet to clear out the blow down logs.


It was a great weekend.

You guys are making me salivate.
I've been on standby the past two months waiting for the RAIN to stop. If you've noticed, the whole NW has been lacking in the sun shining dept. I'd at least, rather not start out in the rain. Done that.
But looks like next week, Hell's Canyon is my destination.

I'm sorry to say that all three times we went out to ride, I forgot the camera. Though, admittedly, pics of the piney woods and gentle hills around here would pale compared to those of Painted horse. Our weather was also fairly different, as we had to haul our tails back to camp around 1:30 on the first day to avoid a rather bad afternoon thundershower. The rain only lasted half an hour, but the lightening continued for a good while. Here's Curly grazing a bit while we sit in the truck waiting out the rain.
This part of Kisatchie was the grounds of the old military base Camp Claiborne which closed after WWII. Many of the trails are following the old roads of the camp, and many of the sites are old ruins of the camp. You can ride into the old partially filled in sewer plants (which are now great amphitheaters), the old motor pool, swimming pools, rifle range, etc. All in all, we had a great trip, met a few new nice folks, and slept very well last night in our own beds upon our return.
Camp and highline (and I already know the lines from the highline are too long, this was taken before adjusting them, and my horses are dead broke to ropes any and everywhere)
our camp, this was taken just after I'd filled back in our firepit, just before we rode out on our last morning

I wonder if she'll...
little perspective
I just thought this was a nice pic and gives a good view of the terrain, though it does get pretty hilly in spots.
We ate well. Camp supper was fried fish and hush puppies followed by beer and a cigar. I know, I know, you shouldn't give kids beer and cigars, but it was lite beer and he barely inhaled. Here's some peach cobbler made after we got back home, as the peaches were forgotten at home.

I spent a couple of years in the south. mostly Georgia and SC and some air force time in Texas. So I've seen your forest. I used to hate it, because I could never see the sun set. It just went behind trees. Everything was hidden behind trees.

I have an ex marine buddy who went with me and just really had a hard time with some of our down hill travel. Just doesn't trust his horse yet. The boy on the last palomino is the 8 year old grand son of the fellow riding the lead horse. He is not big enough to get his feet in the stirrups and his grand dad is leading him off very steep mountains. If somebody came off here, they wouldn't stop rolling until they hit the bottom