Garth Rumsmoke takes his first ride on land surrounding Dick Becks place in Pearce, Arizona. "The weather was just right, not cold at all for us northerners," says Garth.

We headed west on Route 10, then eased over into New Mexico. At Deming, we had a quick overnight stop at the Diamond Arrow Ranch (505/546-1115 ) owned and run by Barney Fleming, DVM (The Trail Rider’s resident horse doc), and his wife, Linda. We’ve stopped there a couple times and always find a nice welcome.

The next morning, we headed west to the little ghost town of Pearce, Arizona, arriving on Christmas Eve. A while back, I’d met Dick Beck of Horse Motels International, and he’d offered us the use of his line shack (as he called it), about 12 miles south of Pearce, as the road goes.

We were looking for a place to hole up for the winter, and Dick’s place seemed just right.†So, for taking care of his two horses and doing some plumbing and repair work, we had a place to ride to our hearts’ content for as long as we could stand it. It turned out to be 10 weeks.

To reach Dick’s place, we drove seven miles on a dirt road, then five miles on a "ranch road," which was more like a path. We fell in love. We had an old trailer set back against the Dragoon Mountains about a mile away. Two huge horse pens with water tanks, made up of the old post fence, looked just like something out of a Western movie. Forty acres fenced in Dick’s horses, and there was a small barn for hay, tack, etc.

Once we got the horses in the corrals, closed up some gates so Dick’s horses and ours couldn’t mix, opened up the house, and checked every room, we had a chance to see just what a comfortable place we had for our use.

The rest of the day, we set up for the coming night, which meant we parked the rig, moved some stuff (love that word, it covers everything), and Kathy started building some supper.† We got the gas stove working and fired up the generator.

After we had a chance to set and look around, we knew we were in for a great time.† We looked around Dick’s land, which is next to a huge ranch and boarded by untold acres of Bureau of Land Management land — a couple of sections of which Dick had leased. Plus, he had many miles of just straight-away riding in all directions.

Stretching out to the east across the valley were some nice-looking knolls (hills to some, knolls to others). Behind us, the Dragoon Mountains rose up like beckoning treasures. To the north, we could see mine entrances with the aid of our glasses, and beyond that, the Cochise Stronghold area. We could ride from Dick’s to the stronghold in a couple hours.†

Behind us, the mountain made a huge cut, and we could see a pass that would allow folks to ride to Tombstone.†We knew of only one road between us and Tombstone, and it’s a dirt one, at that. It’s about 22 miles by road, shorter by horseback.†Talk about getting a feel of the West, surrounded by gold mines, history, and ghost towns.†We didn’t know what to do first.

The next morning, after sleeping in the complete quiet of the West, we strolled to the top of a small knoll. From there, we could see clean across the valleys to the Chiricahua Mountains, 34 miles away. Around the campsite, we had more than 20 square miles of riding — a trail rider’s dream.

Kathy was still sore from her fall, but the thought of all the riding helped her back on her horse by New Year’s Day. Chaps were a must, as the area was wild and rough. Stones and sand weren’t a problem for our horses’ bare feet. In fact, Dick—who got down to visit—pulled his horse’s shoes after he saw we’d been riding barefoot.

Mr. Murphy showed up at the same time Dick did. Our first real ride was to hunt up the spring back in the foothills that supplied our water. We had a cold snap, and the lines froze up. After getting them thawed, we found we had a problem upstream, and needed to check it out.

We found out that it took almost a hour to get to town, that we had no cell-phone service, and that the town library had a way for us to get online. We also found that running the generator was expensive, so we cut the use down. We used propane gas for the stove and collected firewood each time we went to town.

www.garthandkathy.com