THE AUDUBON BULLETIN 5) 
At our first meeting each of us gave the name by which he wanted to 
be called. Most gave their first names, but some had special nicknames; 
I went by the name of “Stebby”. Nobody was ever called Mr. or Mrs., and 
we met on a frinedly footing right at the start. We were given some 
instructions about equipment, with all of which I had already complied 
except providing myself with a pair of rubbers. I rushed to town by the 
time the stores opened the next morning, only to find that either the stores 
did not have any rubbers or could not fit me. I missed the rubbers sadly 
on the trip. 
We had each received a schedule of the trip, but Al, the Forestry repre- 
sentative, informed us that it was a schedule to be varied from rather than 
to be followed. There were no rigid hours. We were ready at the door 
of the hotel the next morning at nine-thirty with our fifty pounds or less 
of baggage, consisting of a duffle bag and a bedroll. We did not get started 
until almost eleven. Bob had to drive seventy miles that morning to secure 
a new wrangler as one of his men was sick in the hospital with pneumonia. 
We piled into the special bus which was to take us to the place where 
we were to pick up the horses—about fifty miles away. Of course the bus 
broke down, but after a little while down and under the driver got it started 
again. We arrived at a beautiful grassy spot and here we had our first 
open air lunch. It was typical of every one that followed. We made our 
own sandwiches. There were plates of bread, butter, sliced ham, onions, 
tomatoes, cheese, and lettuce, and bottles or jars of peanut butter, horse- 
radish, and jelly or jam; cookies or raisins formed the dessert. There were 
two large Sinclair oil cans, very black on the outside with the smoke of 
many bonfires, and with heavy chains for handles. One was for tea and 
the other for coffee. Bill, the British Consul, insisted on making the tea. 
I don’t know who drank it; I didn’t. He boiled the water and then boiled 
the tea five minutes. The coffee was delicious. 
After luncheon we got our horses. This part was beautifully organized. 
Each horse had a number painted on its flank in large figures and the same 
number written on a piece of adhesive tape on the saddle. The horses had 
ali been assigned in advance. We were required to give our age, weight, 
and riding experience when we applied for the Trail Ride. When one roly- 
poly horse was brought out I was afraid my name would be called, and it 
was. No. 39, or “Billie the Kid’, turned out to be a fine horse and not so 
hard to straddle as I had feared. He was very easily managed, kept up 
with the others without any urging, and had a nice trot. He was gentle 
without being slow. He did not like going down steep grades and would 
make something like a grumbling noise; his rider was in full sympathy 
with him. Everyone seemed to be perfectly satisfied with and to grow 
very fond of his own horse. I heard no complaints. 
W= had a short ride that afternoon and made our first camp at Conun- 
drum Creek. We sat on logs around a huge bonfire and enjoyed a good 
dinnes. It was chilly but not cold. We had not yet reached the high 
altitudes at which we camped thereafter, those of 10,000 and 11,000 feet. 
Only twice did we go down as low as 9,000. We slept in our bags that 
