Isabella is in Longmount. Finally.
Her leave-taking didn’t quite go as planned. She intended to head out at 8 a.m. “but the horses were lost.” By the time they were rounded up, it was 9:30. But — and this is important — she is on the trail again.
She is traveling with the musical French-Canadian student from a couple of entries back. She’s riding a bay Indian pony named “Birdie,”* who is “a little beauty, with legs of iron, fast, enduring, gentle, and wise.”
She’s packed up enough clothes for a few weeks but left most of her luggage in Estes Park. She’ll circle back for them after this adventure.
“It was a most glorious ride. We passed through the gates of rock, through gorges where the unsunned snowily deep under the lemon-colored aspens; caught glimpses of far-off, snow-clad giants rising into the sky of deep sad blue; lunched above the Foot Hills at a cabin where two brothers and a ‘hired man’ were ‘keeping bach,’ where everything was so trim, clean, and ornamental that one did not miss a woman.”
Despite some directional problems once the sun set, Isabella and the French Canadian arrived in fine health.
* Birdie will come up a lot so add her to your list of characters.