Horseback Riding and Philmont Boy Scout Ranch

There is a horse camp about 8,000 feet above sea level, up in the hills at the Philmont Boy Scout Ranch near Taos, New Mexico. One must hike several miles over several days to get there. Wild mustangs have been caught by the Bureau of Land Management (BLM) and saddle broken and taught to take expeditions even higher up into the hills. The trails they follow have beautiful views across valleys that drop off to the side for hundreds of feet.

Before we could begin our ride, we had to learn how to control our horses. We were instructed that the horses are working while on the trail and are not to graze along the way. They are fed when they return to the stables. Riders are to pull up on the reins if the horses attempt to feed on the grass along the way. Sounds good huh?

We were also taught that when encountering hikers along the horseback trail to stop and give the hikers the right-of-way. Hopefully the horses won’t get spooked that way. See where this is leading?

So, off we go on the trail ride. Our group included about ten scouts and adults, including the guide. We slowly wound our way up the trail. Switchbacks and fairly steep grades followed one after another. We came to a spot on the trail along side a pretty steep drop off where there was a group of hiking scouts who were trying to cross the trail in front of us. We stopped, forming a line of horse and riders in a sort of “bumper to bumper” traffic. As the scouts began walking across the trail our collection of BLM mustangs sensed the opportunity to grab a quick bite of the available green grass and leaves.

As the horse bent their necks to eat the grass, the riders did as they had been told and pulled up on the reins. Now, a certain number of readers out there will know that pulling up on the reins also happens to be international horse language for REVERSE. That was problem in “Bumper to bumper” as the horse’s rear flanks backed into the cold nose of the horse behind them. Oh, did it get ugly then.

When a horse is prodded from behind their reflex seems to be to kick backwards. The first time the horse in front of mine kicked me in the shin, I thought I had just had my leg broken. The only protection was the leather sheathing leading to the stirrup. The second time the horse kicked me, I “knew” it was broken. The nice neat orderly row of horse became a twisted shuffle of kicking and jostling animals. My son Christopher’s horse attempted to side step the action and slipped off the trail.

The most vivid memory I have of the incident is when the horse rolled down the hillside (think mountain) with Christopher falling in front off to the downhill side. The horse rolled over Christopher as its feet were down. The horse regained it footing, Christopher was unhurt, and my leg was not broken after all. How everybody survived, I don’t know. There are some things I don’t understand.