The sound of hooves crunching across lava rock, ancient, black, and sunbaked, reminds you that this land remembers fire. And at the Back Country Horsemen of Oregon’s Wilderness Skills Clinic, held at Sisters Cow Camp just outside of Sisters, Oregon, I was reminded that riding through history takes more than just a steady mule beneath you. It takes preparation, grit, and a community that rides as hard as it listens.
This wasn’t just a weekend getaway. It was a deep dive immersion into what it means to ride, camp, and live well in the backcountry.
I was honored to be invited as a clinician and speaker, sharing what I’ve learned about horse camping with a passionate crowd of riders, campers, and packers who live for the sound of hooves on dirt and the quiet that comes after the fire dies down. From seasoned backcountry pros to folks pitching their first tent beside a trailer, the group reminded me why I keep hauling out, dust and all, for events like this: no egos, no gatekeeping, just a shared reverence for the land, the animals, and each other.
Where the Lava Remembers
One of the standout moments was riding the Metolius-Windigo Trail. If you’ve never been on it, you owe yourself the ride. The trail weaves through towering Ponderosa pine, skirts groves of manzanita and sage, and then spills out onto surreal jumbles of ancient lava.
It’s the kind of trail that quiets you. The terrain tells stories older than roads and railroads, stories your horse hears through their feet. You don’t need narration out there. The landscape speaks for itself. No one’s checking their phones. You’re listening for your mule’s breath and the wind through the trees. Out there, presence isn’t a choice, it’s a condition.
Coffee and Conversations
I came to teach. Sessions on practical camp setup, avoiding emergencies, and troubleshooting problems before they escalate. But as is often the case in the backcountry, I learned just as much.
The best lessons didn’t happen during the clinics. They happened afterward, around tailgates and campfires. Riders swapping hobbling tips, testing knots, comparing the snacks they actually eat after a hard day’s pull. This is the kind of knowledge that doesn’t show up in books. It shows up in conversations over coffee.
There’s something uniquely grounding about the people who ride out where the map blurs and the signal dies. These are the riders who know that comfort sometimes looks like a well-tied highline and a hot cup of cowboy coffee.
No Shortcuts, No Excuses
In a world that’s getting louder, faster, and more paved by the minute, events like this matter more than ever. Wilderness skills aren’t some nostalgic throwback, they’re essential tools for riding responsibly and confidently.
Knowing how to balance a pannier or set up a safe camp isn’t just good horsemanship, it’s good citizenship. These skills are the difference between a good trip and a search-and-rescue headline. And perhaps just as importantly, they reflect our respect for the animals and the places we travel through.
Backcountry riding doesn’t come with shortcuts. That’s the point. The trail tests your preparation and rewards your patience. It doesn’t care about likes or follows. It cares whether your cinch holds and your horse stays calm when the wind shifts.
A Tip of the Hat to BCHO
My thanks to the folks at Back Country Horsemen of Oregon for keeping this clinic about what really matters, education, dirt-earned wisdom, and community. Sisters Cow Camp, once a working cow camp, now serves as a hub for equine adventurers who want a little less pavement and a lot more sky.
For more info on Sisters Cow Camp click here – https://www.trailmeister.com/trails/sisters-cow-camp-horse-camp/
If you haven’t been, go. Whether for a day ride or a clinic weekend, it’s the kind of place where time slows down, the stars shine a little brighter, and the air smells like pine and possibility.
Looking Back to Look Ahead
As I hauled out of camp, trailer coated in volcanic grit, mule a little more trail-tested, I found myself thinking about what this kind of weekend really gives us. Yes, it’s about skills. But it’s also about confidence. It’s about knowing you can navigate the unknown.
It’s about helping the next rider feel ready to take that unmarked trail. And it’s about learning how to set up a secure camp and how to leave no trace when you move on.
But more than anything, it’s about the people. This loose-knit, dust-covered, laugh-too-loud group who understands that “wilderness” isn’t just a place. It’s a mindset. One built on humility, respect, and a willingness to learn. Wilderness doesn’t just test you. It changes you. It pares things down to what matters: a good animal, a tight knot, and people who’ll ride the rough parts with you.
Here’s to more trails, more campfires, and more dirt under the hooves.
See you out there.
Want to explore more about wilderness horse camping, trail-tested gear, and find the world’s largest guide to equine camps and trails? Visit me at www.TrailMeister.com, or pick up my best-selling book, The ABCs of Trail Riding and Horse Camping, available now on Amazon.