To say we dove in headfirst would be an understatement. We spent most of our afternoons, and weekends at Gienger Creek Ranch that Spring, and summer. One day, in the early summer, we were down there, and a rescue horse showed up. Brandy, the Queen of Gienger Creek has a big heart, and so, people would drop off rescues all the time. This one horse though showed up. The kids called him Bones, on account of being able to see all his bones. He was in a poor state. My wife, Sam, was drawn to him, and he to her. She decided to keep him, on account that “He cuddles.” She named him Fritz.

The ranch, where Darrell was at before he burnt some bridges also gave us his old horse, Chester. So now we have four horses… by accident. I still don’t have one to call my own. I’m waiting for the right one… and the money to make it happen.

Gienger Creek Ranch is a multi-faceted endeavor. Horse Services, a Petting Zoo, and a homestead, including cows, chickens, goats, llamas, ducks, pony’s, a miniature donkey, lizards, snakes, and rodents. Some of the major attractions there are a 2,500 lb black angus bull named Bo, that likes scratches, and pets, a llama named Lola that gives kisses, and a field full of horses that swarm you with love in their eyes for the cookies in your pockets. The centerpiece to all of this, though, is the firepit. If it’s not raining, or snowing, or thirty below, you can guarantee that the fire is going every night. It’s a place for family, friends, food, bonding, and winding down after a long day.

Come sheep hunting season, they had some hunts booked. Gienger Creek doesn’t guide hunting trips. They offer horse services in the Willmore Wilderness Park. It sounds quaint and cozy, but in reality, it is over 4500 square kilometers of true untouched wilderness. It is located south of our home, in Grande Cache, Alberta. The northernmost town in the Alberta Rockies. In this park, the only mode of transportation is foot and hoof. The majority of it is not covered by cellular service, and even GPS can be spotty if you’re on the northern slope of a steep mountain. It is one of the last truly wild places in Canada.

I wanted to be helpful with the trips, so I could help the man of the house, Wayne, and his son, Robert in the staging areas when they go for their trips. They had an old barrel welded to a post for learning how to pack. We took a pack-saddle and tied the packs, and tarps on, and off, and on, and off, and back on, and back off. Trying different ties, like the diamond hitch, the double diamond hitch, the squaw hitch, and the box hitch, and we threw different shapes, and sizes of junk on the packs to see what hitches work best for them. Wayne loaned me some old books on packing and horses from old gone outfitters of yesterday. I dove right in and even whittled some wood boxes that I could tie to a paint can to keep up on my knots and hitches.

Their first trip that season was taking a couple into the Berland area of the park, about a half-hour south of Grande Cache. They were sheep hunting and planning on staying out for eight days. This was just a drop-off, and pick up. The trip took two days. Brandy was running her petting zoo about two, and a half hours north of Grande Cache, so she wasn’t available to help pack up. I was up by four in the morning to go down, and start loading horses, because Rob said he would be up by four. As much as I like his hard-charging attitude, I didn’t mind sitting on the front porch drinking coffee until the lights turned on at a more realistic five-thirty. The night before, we loaded up saddles, and packs, so all there was to do is catch, and load horses. We loaded eight horses. four for the saddle, and four for packing.

We drove out to the staging area, loaded them up, and waved goodbye. I took the truck back north to pick up the animals from the petting zoo, and the next day, Brandy, and I went to pick Wayne, and Rob up. They stunk. They were thirsty. They were hungry. They were sore. I was a little bit jealous. I longed for that trip. I wanted that adventure. I needed that danger. However, I wasn’t confident in my skills, and didn’t want to ask.

The next trip was just a simple one day drop off neer the Muddy Water Creek, just north of Grande Cache. I was there helping to pack them out, but was not available when they got back. The two hunters brought a raft, with the plan to ride the Smokey River back to the highway after the trip. Packing that raft was tough, but a big brown horse named Joe made easy work of it.

All that was left for the season was to pick up the hunters that were dropped off at the Berland. Robert was leaving town, and Brandy was going to go with Wayne. She was going to get me to watch the animals back at the ranch, but you could see she was still worried about them. I didn’t throw it out there because again, I wasn’t overly confident in my abilities, but Robert looked at me, and looked at Brandy, and said, “Just send Bryon.” This is how I got my first trip…