The Little Horse Hits the Trail

The little horse woke bright and early the next morning. He was raring to go. But he had to wait while Cailtin and Kristen and all the other cousins made steak sandwiches and packed cheese and crackers and peanut butter and gorp and candy bars and grapes and water bottles and on and on. The little horse stamped his hoof. Why can’t they eat on the trail, like me? he wondered.


At last Caitlin swooped him up and put him on her shoulder. The little horse and all the loaded backpacks were carried to the car. The little horse found himself tucked into a side pocket of a red pack and stuffed in the back of a van and they were off! The actual packing and driving were not quite as exciting as he had hoped, but he was committed now. There was no turning back. They were driving north to the base of Mount Webster.


The little horse settled into the pocket of the backpack. He tried to nap, but he could hear the excited laughter of the cousins as they drove. This was Caitlin’s and Kristen’s first overnight climb. “Well, it’s my first, too,” thought the little horse, “but you don’t hear me making such a racket.”