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A Long Winter Ride
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Greenhorn
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Merry Christmas Crossfox. Glad to see the story continue.
 
Posts: 29 | Location: Derby Kansas | Registered: 30 March 2012Reply With QuoteReport This Post
Booshway
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Hiya Windriver! Merry Christmas to you too!

Will be making additional postings as more of the story outline is filled in. Have kind of gotten myself jammed up some as I'm working on three other stories at the same time. So, hang in there!!

Regards, xfox


The forest is a wilderness only to those that fear it, silent only to those that hear nothing. The forest is a friend to those that dwell within its' nature and it is filled with the sounds of life to those that listen.
 
Posts: 532 | Location: Bitterroot Valley | Registered: 23 October 2004Reply With QuoteReport This Post
Greenhorn
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If we don't all hang together, we'll all hang separately. That might have been said by the Dalton gang, but I'm not sure.
 
Posts: 29 | Location: Derby Kansas | Registered: 30 March 2012Reply With QuoteReport This Post
Booshway
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Most of the Utes have been cordial enough to Josiah as he moved along with them down the Grande River, not really a prisoner, but not a true guest either. Spotted Tail had strongly suggested that Josiah travel with them for a few days. He learned latter in conversation with Spotted Tail that there were some of the young hot heads in the raiding party that wanted to kill him, and would have done so had he headed out on his own. For that reason Josiah made his camps slightly removed from the Utes. He considered ten to one fair odds for a mountainman, but here was a party of at least thirty and sometimes forty warriors, not in his favor at all.

They continued down river on the Grand River, crossed its confluence with the Uncomphagre River, traveling on southwestward toward the Colorado River. Accompanied by eight of the Ute warriors, the captured Mexican women and children had moved southward toward the Navaho and Jicarilla lands.

Four days out from Fort Uncomphagre, Spotted Tail and Men Afraid held council with Josiah.

This country was new to Josiah.

Having crossed Cochetopa Creek, then following the trail to Pass Creek, and on over Cochetopa Pass (also known as Robidoux’s Pass), Calario felt he was well beyond any of the raiding Utes. He was traveling in relative ease through the San Luis and Conejos Valley’s. The headwater drainages of the Rio Grande Del Norte could be seen in the near distance with its clear waters where trout and crawfish were plentiful. And abundant grasses and shrubs along its banks would be the feeding grounds for elk and deer.

Here in the northern reaches of the Del Norte Valley, he best prepare for the grueling walk on the high desert east of the river.


The forest is a wilderness only to those that fear it, silent only to those that hear nothing. The forest is a friend to those that dwell within its' nature and it is filled with the sounds of life to those that listen.
 
Posts: 532 | Location: Bitterroot Valley | Registered: 23 October 2004Reply With QuoteReport This Post
Booshway
Picture of Walkingeagle
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YeeHaww... meats back on the menu boys!!!
Glad to see the story continuing sir.
Walk
 
Posts: 342 | Location: Alberta, Canada | Registered: 15 January 2005Reply With QuoteReport This Post
Booshway
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Following along the bank as the river flowed to the south, Calario gathered several bunches of green willow sticks to make a conical fish trap. He was going to travel along the river rather than go to the eastern side of the wide, high desert valley where water was less likely to be found with certainty. Calario knew of a good place to camp on the river just before it entered a formidable canyon, a long days’ walk from his present location.

Spotted Tail and Man Afraid guided Josiah to a trail that led up into the San Juan Mountains to a pass that would take him to the Rio Del Norte Valley. They indicated it would take him two suns to reach the Valley and another two suns to arrive in Taos.

Taking his leave from the Utes, Josiah heads into new country, noting the lay of the land and mountains. The trail climbs up a narrow valley and then zigzags up the slopes through Ponderosa, then Lodge Pole, Aspen and Fir, thinning considerably as the summit of the pass is reached. Here he stops and observes in the far distance a rolling forested landscape that does not matchup with the description of the land as told by the Utes.

Finding a good spot to camp for the night with a water rivulet and plentiful forage for his horse and mules, Josiah settles in for a night in the high country. Sipping on Lapsang tea, some stick bread and a slice of elk jerky, Josiah considers that he might be a bit fearsome confused by these southern mountains. Howsomever, he is determined to head down to the southeast until he gets his bearing sorted out.


The forest is a wilderness only to those that fear it, silent only to those that hear nothing. The forest is a friend to those that dwell within its' nature and it is filled with the sounds of life to those that listen.
 
Posts: 532 | Location: Bitterroot Valley | Registered: 23 October 2004Reply With QuoteReport This Post
Booshway
Picture of Walkingeagle
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Nice to see this continue xfox.
Walk
 
Posts: 342 | Location: Alberta, Canada | Registered: 15 January 2005Reply With QuoteReport This Post
Booshway
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The rich green grasses of the river have gradually given way to a rough sandy soil covered by the soft silver greys of dwarf sage, mixed with grease wood and small cacti. As Calario continues south he watches and listens for the rapid rattle of the small but deadly rattlesnakes that inhabit this desert land. Horn toads scurry about and jack rabbits stand quietly watching before bounding off in an erratic course away from his direction of travel.

Calario eased down the trail that sloped off the 50 foot bank to the river following the trail downstream to the small rock and sand beach below the towering rock walls of the canyon entrance. Here, the river flow starts to pick up speed; in the shallows among the rocks is an abundance of crawfish, a good place to set his conical fish trap with a bit of rabbit as bait, for a good meal in the evening. Just to the east of the rivers’ edge, about 25 feet away is a small cutaway at the base of the cliff, just large enough for a man to shelter under, an old fire ring nearby attests to the many that had been here before.

Calario will have a good feed and nights’ sleep before the last 25 miles to Taos on the morrow.

As Josiah followed a trail down through the heavily wooded valleys, he comes into a thinning forest and eventually a clear running stream. Scratching his jaw, Josiah ponders the southwest direction it flows. The Utes had told him the Rio Del Norte would flow due south, not southwest and that he would need to cross well north of the canyon that splits the high desert valley floor.

Josiah decides to head upstream, figuring he would rather head slightly northeast than farther west. Sense the stream bottom is a thicket of willow; he stays on the north side a couple of hundred feet where the going is easier on his horse and mules. After a couple of miles, Molly brings her head up abruptly, ears tilting slightly forward, nostrils flare and a soft snort, bringing Josiah quickly to attention. Cupping his palms around his ears, Josiah listens intently; in the near distance he can hear the sounds of sheep and goats


The forest is a wilderness only to those that fear it, silent only to those that hear nothing. The forest is a friend to those that dwell within its' nature and it is filled with the sounds of life to those that listen.
 
Posts: 532 | Location: Bitterroot Valley | Registered: 23 October 2004Reply With QuoteReport This Post
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