As I look back over the past 30 years of my life, years spent living the life of a wilderness guide and horseman, I search the depths of my soul for regrets and I find none.
My life in the mountains has been anything but easy. Broken bones, hardships and friends lost to an unforgiving wilderness yet I would not for one second change my course if I were given the power to do so. My life has been solid, unforgiving and real.
I have experienced the death of three of my fellow mountain men, men with whom I shared many a fire, men I called friend. I dealt with the loss of seventeen good horses over the years, good friends and companions each and every one yet it was the life we chose, it was the way we wanted it to be.
Snow storms and high water floods, grizzly bears, upside down horses and broken bones. We were men of a different breed, hard and calloused men who shared the hardships and laughter of a life few could understand. Men of the mountains.
I watch now as today’s youth, young women and men cease to exist as soon as their I-Phone loses service. Pants down around their butt cheeks, hats on sideways and faces decorated with such a variety of jewellery that they look like they stumbled and fell face first into their grandfather’s tackle box.
Adventure is a day trip to the mall where they stand in small herds of unknowing and unwilling souls who seem to lack any direction in life what so ever.
What will become of the way of life we the men of the mountains once shared? Who will dare to step foot off the ash fault and lead the few into the depths of Mother Nature’s bosom?
Horses, high country, rocky trails and river depths, who will know the ways of the wild if someone does not teach them, who will become the mountain men of today?
The double diamond, crow’s foot hitch and the barrel loop, only a handful of men even know what these things are any more and even fewer men have stayed in practice with the art of wilderness horse packing.
It wasn’t but a week ago I witnessed a group of gents bungee strap a lop-sided buddle of crap onto an unimpressed horse. I was amazed when I heard one of them use the phrase “Horse Packer” as they worked together to stretch the bungee strap an extra foot.
The world seems to be filling up with those who like to call themselves hunters yet I cannot actually remember seeing a recent photo of an elk on a pack horse, I have however seen the ridiculous display of three men abreast trying to drag a bull elk out of the bush with their poor unconditioned horses who were near collapse.
There will always be those who want to experience a true wilderness adventure, whether it be during a big game hunt or a family outing and there will always be the need for those who hold the knowledge and skills required to safely lead them through the difficulties of mountain travel. It is with this in mind the “Big West Guide and Wrangler School” was founded.
Let us not see our way of life as true mountain men and wilderness guides die, let us teach the youth of today the old ways, the way of the horse, the way of life in the back country.
Written by:
Ron Arnett“A man from the wilderness”
email: bigwestadventures@gmail.com
