The Hundredth Meridianrnbv Chilton Williamson, jr.rnGetting SomewherernJackson Hole is burning up. GerryrnSpence liad to evacuate his ranch aheadrnof the wildfires, and Dick Cheney couldrnbe next. I lere above timberline in thernSnow Range of the Medicine BowrnMountains, 400 miles to the southeast,rnthe breeze is cool, the grass is fresh andrngreen, and the ponds of standing waterrnare connected by torrenting riulets ofrnsnow melt. There are also no tourists,rnand ou don’t have to be a millionaire tornlive here—as I’d be doing tonight, if onlyrnwe’d brought the camp gear along withrnus.rnEver’one who loves the outdoors is inrnlove with a special place in the outdoors,rnas truK as if it were a woman, that no otherrnplace can ever quite compete with.rnMine is the VW’oming Range north ofrnKemmerer, Wvoming, which I exploredrnand himted —by four-wheel-drive, onrnfoot, and on horseback—for 18 years beforernI left in the sunnner of 1997 forrnsouthern New Mexico, where I sufferedrnthe heat and the Mex-Mex culture forrnnearh” two years before coming home tornW oming. For the next year and a half, Irnsidkcd in Laramie, pining for the westernrnend of the state, before I came to my senses.rnThere’s no point being miserable, JimrnTate likes to sa’. And Tom Sheelcy callsrnInning fun the best revenge. So this summer,rnI’ve been in the Snowies with thernhorses as often as possible, seeing newthingsrnand learning new eountr}’. hi fact,rndie Wyoming Range has nothing morernbeautiful to offer than this. (I tell myselfrnthat, die way von tell yourself the girl yournloved for half a lifetime is really no morernloel’ than the one you met last night.)rnM’ reluctance to embrace the newrncountr seems evident from my uncharacteristicrnfailure to carr)- along a map (Irnloe maps) of it. The Snowies are a geographicallyrnrestricted and topologicallyrnuncomplicated formation compared tornwhat I’m used to traveling through. Subconsciously,rnI must be defying the mountainsrnto disorient and lose me in theirrndark green and slatey granite folds.rnSeen from Laramie, the Snowy Mountainsrnmake a single, undivided, graniticrnbarrier running north to south. Viewedrnfrom exactly the right angle northwestrnacross the range from a southeasternrnstandpoint near Jelm Mountain, or southeastrnfrom a northwestern vantage in thernvicinity of Arlington on Interstate 80,rntheir bifurcated structure is apparent: twornroughly parallel fins, dislocated fromrneach other on an east-west as well as arnnordi-south axis to create a gap, or pass,rnbetween the non-contiguous ends. Itrntook me seeral months to observe therndiscontinuity and only a few seconds torndecide I had to go there, cross countiT betweenrnthe two structures for a look overrninto western ‘Wyoming and what had tornbe a spectacular backside view of ElkrnMountain to the northwest. It lookedrnlike a simple enough passage to negohatern—especially once you got above timberlinernand into the alpine country,rnwhere a trail, though convenient, is gcneralKrnan unnecessar)’ alternative to bushwhackingrnamong the lakes and torrs —sornI chose to forego a visit to the bureaucraticrnguardians of the National Forest Ser-rnice for a map of the area and navigate byrnsightlincs instead of the charts.rnBackpackers think —or pretend tornthink —that taking a horse into wildernessrngives you an air-cooled, air-suspended,rnV-8, turbo-assisted, super-deluxe ride,rnequivalent to what you get from a CadillacrnSLIV with independent four-track articulatedrnsuspension. Having riddenrnmany hundreds —perhaps even thousandsrn—of miles horseback in mountainousrnterrain, I know better: You don’trninvite just anyone along to share the adventure.rnFor this one, I recruited a fellowrnla])swininier from UW’s Halfacre Pool: arn oung lady who tunes pianos for a li ingrnwhile she completes her theatrical studiesrnat the university, guaranteed fit for anyrnbackcoimtry ordeal and, as it happens,rnexceedingly pretty into the bargain.rnWe made a later than planned departurernfrom town, delayed first by Ann’srnneeding to finish up a resume and nextrnby my gelding, who horsed us like a tarponrnon a line for three quarters of anrnhour before allowing himself to berncaught and haltered. Two weeks before,rnwhile I had my right arm around his neckrnand was attempting to squeeze a couplernof grams of Bute onto the back of hisrntongue with my other hand, he’d rearedrnsuddenly, catching me in the chest withrnhis knees and throwing me sideways withrnenough force to break ni watchband,rnseparate a couple of ribs, and tear thernmuscle at the base of my right shoulderrnblade. Twenty-one-year-old horses thatrnact like unbroke yearlings have a betterrnchance of being sold to the glue factoryrnthan enjoying an honorable refirementatrnpasture. Ann and I finally got everyonernloaded, and we started for the mountains,rnstretching blue along the western horizonrnbeneath the earl afternoon cloudrnbuildup, at last.rn”I hope you brought raingear withrnyou,” I said to Ann.rnShe fished in her daypaek and pulledrnout something semi-transparent and ver}’rnbrief that crackled and had a smiley facernprinted on it in yellow. A Wal-Mart bag,rnactually, with armholes cut in it to fit overrnher bathing-suit top.rn”I think I have an extra poncho w ithrnme in the saddlebags,” I told her.rn”Oh, this is all I need! I use them forrnbiking and running, and ever thing.”rnThe cloudburst commenced as we arrivedrnat the trailhead below BrooklynrnLake (elevation approximately 10,000rnfeet). I made Ann sit in the cab while Irnsaddled the horses in the downpour. Justrnwhen we were ready to ride, the thunderrnwent booming away to the northeast, andrnthe sky cleared.rn”Better bring your Wally-Dior thingrnjust in ease,” I suggested. “That wa- we’llrnbe half prepared at least, since I don’trnhave a map. Who up here w ere you planningrnto impress, anywa?”rnHaving identified four designatedrnroutes leading in the general direction ofrnthe ridge, I chose the second as being thernmost likely to skirt the rocky shoulder ofrnmountain below hmberline, before ascendingrnto the alpine meadow above.rnThe dirt trail, passing among wide-rnOCTOBER 2001/57rnrnrn