Reporter will need a tough hide
to cover Council ride

In this 2005 photo, Navajo Nation Delegates Alice Benally and Harriett Becenti ride in a wagon driven by Sampson Mescal and Lance Lee on Friday as they approach Twin Lakes Chapter house as part of the annual Council ride. [photo by Jeff Jones / Independent]

By Kathy Helms
Diné Bureau

WINDOW ROCK — I’m notorious for doing things at the last minute — just ask my boss — so when Navajo Nation Council Delegate Jerry Bodie told me last Thursday that he had had room to take me on the 12th annual Council horse ride, it sounded like a good idea.

Plus, I’ve never seen Tohajiilee, where we will start from today, or Mount Taylor, where we will camp tonight.

So Friday morning I went down to Griswold’s in Tse Bonito and pawned my extra saddle so I could pitch in with some gas money. Bush’s economy and overinflated gas prices promise to make this year’s ride the most expensive yet.
Before 8 a.m. Saturday, I was calling Resource Enforcement to see where I could hook up with a Navajo Nation Ranger and get a hauling permit. If you’re going to haul livestock, you need a permit. Unfortunately, the only nearby ranger station open was in Rock Point.

Since I don’t own a horse trailer, and even if I did, couldn’t pull it with my four-cylinder excuse for a truck, that was a problem.

Riding my horse Chaps down to get him inspected for the permit was the only logical choice. Of course, by the time I got there, the station would be closed.

I was still pondering the situation when Delegate Curran Hannon showed up later Saturday evening to trim Chaps’ hooves. Hannon also issues permits, so that worked out fine.
I hate hoof-trimming, because Chaps isn’t exactly a cooperative horse. Curran was sweating up a storm by the time he got the front hooves done. Of course, I had been rewarding Chaps with horse candy all along, thinking that maybe if he were eating, he wouldn’t pay so much attention to Curran.

Horse candy makes horses hyper. Not only was Chaps skittish, suspicious and just plain ornery, the last thing he wanted to do was stand still.

“We’re going to have to ‘twitch’ him,” Curran said.

I hate twitching. It involves taking something that looked like an oversize pair of pliers, and holding the end of Chaps’ nose tightly between the handles. Curran said it makes his other muscles tighten up so that he isn’t so prone to kick or try to run off.

Needless to say, we never made it to the filing portion of the procedure. And I’m kind of worried about that look Chaps was giving me when I was holding those pliers. It was one of those, “Just wait. I’m going to remember this,” stares.

I woke up at 7 a.m. Sunday, thinking that if it were Monday, I’d already be two hours behind because you can bet your sweet dreams that Bodie is going to be up at 5 a.m. yelling, “Wake up, people. We’re burning daylight.”

I took a nice long shower, because I know they’re in short supply on the ride — unless you count the monsoon we’re probably going to encounter this year. By the time I had finished packing, I was thinking that if I was real lucky, maybe Bodie would forget me.

But no. He’s on his way, and I’m hoping Chaps won’t be a pain in the rear when it comes time to load up.

In 2005, it was more than 120 degrees when we passed through Tuba City. In 2006, it was 105 as we rode toward Mexican Water. Fortunately, I missed 2007.

Riding in the rain is going to be a challenge. At least we won’t have to worry about the horses dehydrating.

It really makes you wonder how the former Navajo Nation leaders survived when they used to ride to the Council session on horseback. Obviously they had some tough hides!