TENNESSEE WALKERS ON THE TRAIL IN MISSOURI’ S
NATIONAL FOREST
by Fred Lesh
READY TO LEAVE— Fred Lesh pauses with MAJORETTE and Beverly Santens with BLUE DIAMOND prior to starting on their trail ride in Missouri’ s National Forest. Clarence Cunningham was on hand to see the group off on their Journey.
One stormy winter evening my young friend and neighbor, Beverly Santens, and I were alone, Mrs. Lesh and Mrs. Santens having gone to a class party. We were sitting by the fire, chatting and munching popcorn which we had just popped over the glowing red coals in the fireplace.
The afternoon had been a pleasant one. We had taken the opportunity to work some of the young Walking stock for a couple of hours. As we neared the barn just before sunset, we noticed the dark grey clouds coming from the north pushed by winds that were getting noticeably much colder. We hurriedly did the feeding at the central barn. By the time we had stabled the colts and yearlings in the two outer barns, snowflakes had already begun floating lazily to the ground. Two hours later we were witnessing an ** ol *- fashioned” Missouri blizzard.
As we sat before the fireplace and reviewed the events of the day, our conversation, as usual, soon turned to summer and trail riding. Sometime during the week I had come by a pamphlet entitled " Clark and Mark Twain National Forest.” The pamphlet emphasized the vastness, beauty and opportunity for different outdoor recreations, one of them being our favorite, trail riding. As I thumbed through the pamphlet I asked Bev how she would like to spend a week the following summer camping and trail riding somewhere in Missouri’ s National Forest. The answer to my query came in the form of a question: " When can we start?”
The storm raged on for another couple of hours and blew itself out. The strong winds left drifts of snow four and five feet deep on the windward side of the buildings and fences. When we were wading through one of the drifts near the barn next day, I was reminded, as I was to be ever so often, about trail riding and camping in Missouri’ s National Forest, so the event was put on the agenda of outdoor events for the summer.
Missouri has inside her borders well over one million acres of National Forest. Most of it is beautiful hill country covered with hardwood and pine. After talking to different Forest Rangers and local residents, we decided to spend a week with our Walking Horses in Reynolds County near Centerville, on the headwaters of West Fork of Black River. This area is deep in the Ozarks and is one of the largest and most scenic in Missouri.
Winter passed and summer soon arrived. By the half-way mark in July we had next winter’ s hay in the barn and most of the fences mended. The two-year-olds were fairly well broken and trained, and the broodmares and their foals were in the summer pastures. So... the time had come to relax and enjoy our long-planned camping trip.
The beautiful fire-red sun that came beaming into the valley on a mid- July morning found us loading our last piece of riding gear and feed into the trailer. Our Tennessee Walkers, BLUE DIAMOND and MAJOR ETTE, had already been loaded and were busily munching hay. The women had both station wagons loaded with the necessary camping gear and food for one week. We were soon waving goodbye to our neighbor, Clarence Cunningham, who looked after things while we were gone.
We headed for a place called Sutton’ s Bluff. Here the river makes a double " s” bend. The bluffs along the bend rise a sheet 300 feet above the river. During morning and evening they cast their dark green shadows across the narrow valley below. A narrow dirt road winds its way down one of the bluffs. Descending, we were tempted to stop and gaze and nature’ s panorama of beauty below, but were reminded that there were two anxious horses and a trailer pushing hard against the station wagon.
We arrived safely at the shady river bottom and set up camp beneath the sugar-maple trees. A stone’ s- throw from our camp was a fine swimming hole at the foot of a high bluff. The water is so clear in West Fork River that one can see a dime in 20 feet of water. We spent many enjoyable hours at the swimming hole after coming in from trail riding. The horses enjoyed the water along with us. Their enjoyment of the water was brought to our attention on the first day of camping. As we neared our camp and were fording the river, MAJORETTE suddenly lay down and rolled over, causing me to jump for the bank. I failed to reach the bank and neded up getting soaked to my armpits! After that
86 Voice of the Tennessee Walking Horse