D and I arrived at the Triangle X ranch on a beautiful sunny Sunday afternoon and immediately felt our spirits lift. There is something about Jackson and the ranch that is truly magical. It is full of raw nature, plenty of outdoor activities, and folk that share a love of both. There is an innocence about the ranch that is hard to describe. You feel like you can go on riding horses, hanging out at the lodge, staring at the Tetons, drinkin’ beers with the wrangers for weeks on end. Is the rest of the world truly continuing on out there? It feels as if it has melted away. Surely it is not waiting on the other end of my return flight.
Monday night, we celebrated our first full day of riding at the ranch by sharing some drinks with the head wranger T.J. and an old guest of the rest Hans. Hans is originally from East Germany and lived through World War II. Every year he comes to the ranch for a solid month to ride horses. He is a solid, quiet man with a wonderful German accent. When he speaks that reminds me of my grandfather, who had a similar accent even though he grew up in Austria. He sat on T.J.s couch all night nursing a glass of red wine, all the while quietly stroking the feet of the wrangler’s border collie Piper.
Right before D and I headed back towards Goodridge cabin for some shut-eye, T.J. announced, “Did I mention that there’s going to be an all-day ride tomorrow? Carmichael pass. Tell your folks.” He had promised Hans he would lead him on this route and impromptu invited a few more quests along.
So the next morning, Hans, D, D’s parents K and R and a wonderful woman named Roberta from PA trailered our 7 horses and headed up the road to the start of the “Carmichael Trail” which begins at Carmichael fork in the shadow of Mount Leidy.
An all day ride is usually a longer loop that gets into the back country, with a lunch stop. This trail started off with a climb through some trees up to a service dirt road and then began meandering through some trees but also some highland hills and meadows. K pointed out different varieties of plants including wild fennel, delphiniums. (She’s a superb gardener and botanist).
One point along the trail at about 11 o’clock, we had to cross a little stream, but the step down into the water put the horses up to their knees in mud. T.J’s Patience sprung across but K’s Velvet put her feet in, sunk more than her liking and sprung out again. The little black mare then decided she would have nothing to do with crossing that stream. T.J. tried riding her across, coaxing her, pulling her, getting Patience to pull her. Finally, the rest of us rode across up into a nearby field that was beyond eyesight from the creek crossing. Velvet did what T.J. expected – she found a way across rather than be left behind by her herd mates. What T.J. did not expect was that she would leap across a bit upriver, easily springing across a deeper ravine. Silly Horse. At least she was across and everyone was unhurt. We carried on!
About 2/3 of the way along the trail, we stopped for lunch. It was in a secluded meadow with orange red tall grasses and brush surrounded by deep evergreen trees. There was not a cloud in the sky. An abandoned hunter camp was nestled on the other side of the pine trees. Here, we perched upon some logs and ate our bag lunches while soaking up the warm rays of sun filtering through the pine trees. It was blissful. After we finished eating, and were just enjoying the peacefulness of the forest, D suggested we go feed the horses the remaining apples out in the field.
We sliced up a few red delicious apples and fed them to the surrounding horses. They formed a ring around us trying to get the treats. We quickly ran out. We turned to face down the meadow and began remarking what a special place this was and how lucky we were to see such a slice of the world that very few humans have laid eyes on. Certainly only a few a year. I commented “oh I think we’ll be coming back to the ranch together for a long time.” He looked at me funny and said “You think?” I immediatlely smiled and replied, “Oh, I know we will.” A big smile developed under his thick mustache, and he put his arm around me. Then he began to fumble in his vest pocket. He said, “I have a question for you, actually it’s a big question.” And the next thing I knew he was down on one knee in the middle of this beautiful open field surrounded by horses and asked me to marry him. There was not a doubt in my mind that the answer to that was yes. Absolutely. Yes.
I recognized the ring nestled in the black box: it was my grandmother’s engagement ring. She passed away this January and my aunt had quite very thoughtfully given it to me. It gives me comfort to think that her and my grandfather would have loved D and would be so happy to know that I can now wear her diamond. He slipped it on my finger and we both stared down at it with big ol’ grins on our faces.
Now, apparently I nearly gave his parents a heart attack in my first few minutes of a future daughter-in-law. I took off the ring because it is too loose (my grandmother’s finger was bigger than mine) and didn’t want it to slip off my finger on the ride back. With it in my pocket, I put my riding gloves back on and we returned to the rest of the riders. When we got to the logs, everyone was just staring at us. I think we were both waiting for the other to start talking. His parents, who knew that he was going to “pop the question” as the ring had been hiding in their room for the first two days of our trip, couldn’t tell what had transpired with my gloves on. Did he ask her? Did she say yes? We finally burst out with the great news and heard his Dan give an enormous exhale. Ooops.
I must admit I was a bit impatient for the remainder of the trail to pass behind us so that I could call my parents and tell others. Even so, there wasn’t a moment that a huge smile left my face. I’ll never forget my trek on the Carmichael trail – and I have quite a special momento on my hand to remind me. More importantly though, I'm with my cowboy. Now and always.
