Is the only word to describe my ride through Yellowstone National Park.

After crossing 3 suspension bridges, 7 rivers and too many mountain peaks to even count, Brian Anderson the Manager of Copper Spring Ranch looked at me and said, “you know we are brothers now right?”

The all-around cowboy and farrier not only kept me alive during our time in the park, he kept me laughing like a haina. It is not very often that you meet someone like Brian. To be able to call him my brother is an honour!

Our trip started off to a rocky start. Only 1 hour down the trail Brian’s horse, Lucky, stepped off the path and almost tumbled down the steep mountain. With cat like reflexes Brian jumped off his horse as Lucky’s back end hung off the edge. I saw it all play out in slow motion.

(look right next to my horses right ear)

“Wow, I thought we were about to lose lucky there,” Brian said as I rode up to him.

Other than the scare and a bruised elbow he was okay. We continued our ride next to the Yellowstone River. After a few miles we crossed the first suspencion bridge of the trip. What a feeling. Water raged far underneath us as the bridge wobbled with every step our horses took.

After crossing the bridge I got off my horse to take some pictures. When I went to remount, my pony decided it would be a good idea to start climbing the very steep mountain side to our left. As I tried to put my leg over the saddle I saw that right behind us was now the precipice that led straight to the river.  That’s when I heard, “jump off, jump off.”

Next thing I knew I was laying on the dirt and my horse was next to me panting.

“Man you would have fallen for a week before you hit that river. Do you know how close you were to going over the edge,” Brian said after he realized I was okay.

It is in the roughest of times that I have made the strongest friendships in my life. It is also during these times that I have learned the most important lessons. Travelling through Yellowstone National Park proved to be one of these experiences.

After eating eggs and bacon for breakfast we were ready for our second day of the trip. This would prove to be the hardest ride both for ourselves and our horses. We knew it would be a very long day so we were up at 6am. After taking down the camp, packing and tacking up our horses we were ready to hit the trail.

As the sun climbed the bright-blue sky we rode by Buffalo, elk and deer with breathtaking views all around us. It was a beautiful start. After lunch we found ourselves next to the Yellowstone river again, only this time we looked down on it from way up.

“What a great day to be alive,” Brian sang.

It certainly was a great day, but as 6pm hit and Brian looked at our map from atop the ridge we were riding, we realized we still had over 16 miles to go. And these weren’t just any miles. They proved to be the hardest yet. Due to the drought Wyoming is currently facing we had no water the entire way. This took a toll not only on ourselves but also our horses. What made it worst was that we were climbing the steepest mountains I have ever seen for about 10 of those miles.

“Man this has to be the summit,” Brian and I would say to each other as we approached the next peak. Only to be let down with the sight of a trail going up another face. It was both mentally and physically exhausting. Due to the lack of water and difficulty of the ride we decided to get off our horses and walk most of this stretch.

At one of these gruelling climbs our pack saddle began to slide off our horse. So we were forced to re-pack in the middle of the mountain. As I took the blue tarp of the pack Brian’s sleeping bag fell and rolled down at speeds of up to 30 miles an hour. By the time it stopped it looked like it had made it back to Montana. Seconds after our tent did the same thing. Luckily a tree stopped it halfway down.

After fixing the pack, getting the tent and tying everything up we continued our climb – without Brian’s sleeping bag. I wanted to get it but he protested it would take me way too long and we didn’t have the time. He was right, night was quickly approaching and we were still really far. Just after 8pm we reached the summit of Amethyst Mountain. At close to 10 000 feet it is the highest peak in the Specimen Ridge Range of the Yellowstone.

We felt like a million bucks! Sure we were exhausted, thirsty and sore but we had proved to ourselves that quitting is never an option. And as a reward for our hard work we were blessed with a herd of Bighorn mountain sheep and a beautiful sunset.

“Filipe that’s the biggest one I have ever seen in my life,” Brian said as he pointed to one of the males in the herd.

The mountains glowed red in the far as the sheep stood in front watching us. It was majestic. A perfect moment. After taking a few pictures we started our decent  – with a very tense stretch.

Grizzly bear tracks and fresh droppings plagued the trail as Brian lead the way with his riffle in hand (or meat in the pot as he called the Marlen 444). I kept my hand close to the bear spray that hung from my belt. As we made our way down the mountain, so did the sun. Eventually we were left walking in the pitch black.

That was the hardest part of the day for me. I have been in a dark forest before and it was scary. But to be in a dark forest full of Grizzly bears gives scary a whole new meaning. I couldn’t see one foot in front of me as I treked with the bear spray now in hand.

“Hey Bear, we are coming in your house. Just going to walk on through,” we yelled in the hope of not surprising one with our carcasses. At 11pm we began to hear the river running. It was music to our ears! We needed water for our horses badly, therefore we had to reach the river before setting up camp.

At 12am we finally stumbled on the shores of the Lamar River. The cool night didn’t stop us from simply walking into the freezing water to give our horses a chance to drink. Brian dropped our filter into the water and pumped like a mad man. All that was heard was heavy slurping from ourselves and our horses.

After a few minutes we led them out of the river and untacked. Only to discouver our food bag was gone. It was the bitter-icing on this long-day of a cake.

I looked at Brian and said, “what are we going to do?”

He was so tired he simply looked back with a blank expression on his face and said, “we’ll think about it tomorrow morning.”

By the time our tent was up it was already 1am and extremely cold. With his sleeping bag back in Montana, Brian pulled a Joey from Friend’s and put all of his close on. I felt so bad for him. In the middle of the night we brought our cooking burner in to try to create some heat.

This proved to the the hardest day of our entire trip. The next morning Brian went to look for our food and ended up finding a Grizzly bear.

“I was eating berries of a bush and when I looked beside me I thought there was a Buffalo. Then I noticed it was a huge bear so I slowly backed up out of there… I was worried my spurs were going to make noise,” he told me when he got back to our camp.

The thermo bag packed with food was forever gone. Luckily the river was full of fish! Brian caught 8 and I caught 3… lol I suck! We made fish ala crushed peanutes. No sault, no butter, no oil. It dont know if he is the best cook in the world or if I was really hungry, but it was the best fish I have ever had.

Adventure is what we were looking for… Adventure is what we got in Yellowstone Park 🙂