Arizona was a place we planned to pass through quickly due to the hot weather and lack of water. This diverse state gave us summer sanctuary in the mountains and desert views in the winter. There are great riding trails here along with some of the world?s greatest geographical treasures. We had the opportunity to visit the Grand Canyon, Meteor Crater and several protected and unprotected cliff dwellings. We also took a lengthy timeout in the mystical, new-age city of Sedona.

We acquired a big ol? Quarterhorse named Number Three. This was our latest attempt to replace Gonzo, who died in Los Angeles. Number Three was actually my third horse in two years. Emily had physical problems and Chi Chester's withers gave us trouble. Though the trip is not an endurance race, the trail can be very demanding at times. If a horse has trouble, it is our responsibility to find a good home for the animal, even if it means loosing a
bundle on the trade.

With our new horse, we rode down the Verde River through beautiful pecan ranches and on to the remote Cedar Bench Wilderness. The Water Trail was full of difficult cobblestones, which combined with extreme heat, made this ride one of the toughest I?ve had yet. Though temperatures were in the triple digits, it was so dry that the horses could not sweat. We met a mule packer who told us a
story of having his saddle mule die right underneath him in this country. We took head to his warning and made it through with a lot of breaks and without incident.

We left the Tule Mesa rim for an arduous 5000-foot descent to the Verde River. After this ride through Hell and back, we were rewarded with a camp right on the river, next to a lake size pond. Swimming the horses was so much fun! The horses were so soft and clean after their daily swims. If we weren?t swimming horses, we would be fishing for tasty bass or getting a massage from the waterfall that fed the pond.

This campsite just happened to be 1500 foot from the Verde Hot Springs and the ruins of the Childs Resort. We had people stopping by camp at all hours of the day and night on their way to soak and party. The hot springs fed a large10-foot deep soaking pool, a grotto full of bats and a cozy springhouse with hippie-type art all over the walls. Our camp became a party camp. One night was disco night. We had the black light out and the three xenon strobes that flashed to KC and the Sunshine Band.

On our way to the cooler mountains of the Mogollon Rim, we stopped for a couple weeks at Stehr Lake. This lake was fed by a flume from Fossil Springs used to power the historic turbines of the Irving and Childs Hydroelectric Power Plants. The flume was a ten-foot diameter pipe that traveled several miles through a rugged canyon. We have since been informed that Arizona Power Service has closed both hydroelectric plants after continuous operation for almost 100 years and the US Forest Service is making a successful attempt to sell the surrounding land and make it private. Stehr Lake will now die along with countless animals, fish and organisms that relied on its life-giving source. We feel privileged to have experienced this public land environment first hand and are saddened to see yet another delicate ecosystem gobbled up by developers.

After a couple weeks riding next to it, I talked myself into riding down inside the flume, but only after finding a chum from Phoenix brave enough to join me. We entered a small opening in the flume pipe and dropped into a strong, cold current. Once inside, there was no going back. The power of the current quickly swept us away into total darkness. At one point, the big pipe went through the mountainside with the sound of rapids ahead. This was better than the ?Raider's of the Lost Ark? Ride! It was a relief when we saw daylight ahead and shot out of the flume to the sound of Karin?s cheering.

The next leg was the General Crook Trail along the Mogollon Rim. This massive fault runs hundreds of miles from east to west into New Mexico. The trail offered incredible vistas, battlefields, and roadside graves, along with the best feed ever for the horses. South of the rim is a 2000-foot drop and the
north is full of impassible canyons which made this the perfect military route from Santa Fe, NM to Camp Verde, AZ.

With winter approaching, I picked up work in Forest Lakes. Karin stayed in camp to care for the horses while I stayed in a stunning cabin to build a spiral staircase and an Arizona room. A wild stallion came into camp and would not leave our four mares. Number Three had enough of this Buckskin Mustang and ran off. We found him two weeks later after searching miles of remote wilderness.

We decided to catch the stallion, who we named Smoke, because of his infected wounds and the danger he posed to our horses running free. When I thought it was safe to go back to work, another stallion came into camp who we named Spook. He was a beautiful Palomino. We trained Smoke and gave him to a friend who promised to care for him and rode out to Highway 260 to ditch Spook who
also fell in love with our mares. Spook just got between the packhorses and walked along as if part of our group. It was heartbreaking to say goodbye to him at the fenced off highway.

Winter hit us hard in the historic town of Show Low when a computer we recently bought died. Since this is a major instrument to the Expedition, Karin stopped to get it fixed while I continued over the frozen mountains. She checked on Smoke who was being kept in a small pen and was wild as ever. It didn?t take long for Karin to get him back under her care. Turning him loose was not an option because he had lost enough weight that his survival would have been questionable, having to battle the harsh winter and competition with other stallions. We made a good decision, as he is happy and healthy once again, in love with us and his life in captivity.

When Karin turned around, I continued on through the snow-laden White Mountains in what became one of the snowiest winters on record. The 9-year drought was gone! One to two storms a week pounded us, making travel slow and grueling. When the sun did come out, I would rush to do laundry, take a shower and try to dry out my boots. My Alpinestar boots were frozen solid every the morning and nearly impossible to put on.

Every camp took a lot of planning. I would listen to the weather stations, find out where the next storm was coming from, then look at the map to find an area that would likely shelter us from the wind and yield feed and water. The tent was buried in snow or frozen with ice several times. Though Number Three had never seen snow before, he had no trouble digging for grasses.

After crossing the snow covered Continental Divide, Number Three?s high withers were showing signs of a rub. After our experience with Chi Chester, once you can see a problem with withers, it is already too late. For extra precaution, I walked 15 miles to a good camp to rest and heal for a couple weeks. The weather was horrible. Christmas day was 15 below zero. I made it to Magdalena, New Mexico and decided to call it quits for Number Three. His withers cannot bear a lot of riding.

Karin found a way to trailer me back to her place in the Sedona area of Arizona to find work and a new horse. It is always discouraging to have to stop riding, especially to buy another horse. This is more of an odyssey than a short expedition and timeout is so very much a part of the trip. Stopping gives us
the chance to support ourselves, meet people and truly see what this country is all about.