My Heroes Have Always Been...

You've got it, Willie. Cowboys. (You know the old Willie Nelson tune, don't you?)
Lo and behold, last weekend we found ourselves out in the Paradise Park high country of the Uintas, riding with a couple of cowboys. Okay, they were really a pharmacist and a horse trainer, but they had cowboy hats. And chaps. And fine, fit horses. They looked the part. Above, Steve and the almost-cowboys are chilling around Fish Lake. (Original name, isn't it? Every drainage in the Uintas seems to have a Fish Lake.)

To get there, we crossed Dry Fork:
Not dry here, though. In its lower reaches, the water drops into sinks and travels below ground. Thus, the name Dry Fork.

The stream would be easily fordable on horseback in August, but it might be a "biting dog," as they say, in spring runoff. The Forest Service kindly built a bridge to make crossing easy any time of year.

Here, the "cowboys" explore the shore of Twin Lakes:

We saw a number of beautiful lakes and ponds, and rode through scenic open meadows.One of our friends' horses decided to put on a bucking display while going through a bog. Fortunately, the rider kept his seat, and all was well.
Here's Steve in Lightning Park. The place is aptly named, to judge by the tree on which the sign is nailed. The tree is dead and looks as if it were the victim of heaven-sent electricity.
Our last stop was in Blanchett Park, through which a docile Dry Fork meanders.
Over 2 days, we covered close to 25 miles. One of the guys is an expert at Dutch Oven cooking - if he'd been the cook on one of the 1880's cattle drives, the cowboys would have refused to go home. We neglected to take a photo of the feast, probably because we were too busy stuffing ourselves.
We ate like royalty. Too much more of that, and I'd have to be hoisted onto Mischief with a crane!

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