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