Most veteran packers I know prefer to sling packs for both sides of the animal they're loading. If two men are working together, each packs a separate horse. That way, each packer eyeballs packs for both sides, sizing up bulk and length, hefting them to estimate weight. Then he'll sling those packs according to some inner computer that tells him one must be lashed higher or tighter, or ties it so it can swing with the horse's motion.

It's a fact that a longer or bulkier pack will exert more pull on a packsaddle than a smaller pack of the same weight. Given an assortment of loads of approximate weight, an experienced packer will try to pair his longer packs together. He'll do the same with bulky ones, too.

One problem inherent with all packers is packs are seldom precisely alike. Even two bales of hay or two sacks of oats may differ. This hay bale weighs a couple of pounds more, or is loose strung; that sack of oats is mantied (canvas wrapped) tighter. The knowledgeable packer compensates for difference by lashing one load higher or lower or tighter to the saddle. Usually just a "skosh" higher or tighter will do the job for him.

Sometimes the trickiest part is to hurriedly lash one pack on, then get the other up and hanging before the packsaddle rolls on a horse that took on a bait of air just before you thought you'd cinched him taut.

Personally I like to throw my heavier or bulkier or longer pack first. That seems paradoxical considering the problem of saddle shift that I just pointed out. But most times I find that your first load lashes onto your saddle rings or bars tighter than the second. It has something to do with the physical properties of two loads competing for space at the saddle's top and the fact that your first load snuggles in better. Whatever the reason, if you lash the heavier or longer or bulkier pack first, get it in as tight as possible, then sling the second, you'll find those packs usually seem to ride better as the more compact or lighter pack inevitably loosens and drops slightly to compensate. When everything is copacetic, your pony will love you.

I've seen some awful looking loads ride like a charm for great distances: like the heavy nine-foot planks Back Country Horsemen packed 20 miles into the Bob Marshall Wilderness some years ago. The planks, for reconstruction of the Salmon Forks bridge, threatened first by planned removal, then by the enormous logistics for reconstruction, were packed two to a side. The three-by-twelve planks were offset by a solid, compact, 90-pound sack of cement on its other.

Awkward appearing? Yes. But it worked for hundreds of horse loads.

Why not pack planks both sides? Here's why: The planks were so long they thrust high and forward, sometimes nearly to the horse's ears. Even then they occasionally dragged the ground. That was easy enough along the low side of trails winding across steep mountainsides, but tough on the trail's upper side. So we packed cement on that side.

Worked like a charm.

 

Next week? Another walk on the wild side.