Monte Frio

Monte Frio - HE BROUGHT TEARS TO MY EYES Monte Frio is only 14 hh, but when he arrived as a twenty year old Paso Fino stallion to retire at my home the fall of 1999, he presented himself as a firesnorting dragon. With continuous great screams of challenge his fast little feet churned the earth, never still. Round and round the corral he travelled announcing to all within earshot that "he" was now king of this ranch. Although he was in great shape for being twenty, his ground manners left one a little daunted at the thought of actually using him for a saddle horse. After a couple weeks of this endless performance, I was headed up to the Halfway River Valley (my old home where I was raised on a ranch), taking along my husband's gelding and a Saddlebred mare I was training. At the last moment, I thought, "Well Monte, it's now or never. If I'm ever going to ride you, I better take you along."�So I loaded him in beside the mare who happened to be�coming into heat�(luckily the trailer has partitians) and we quickly left before this little stomping fury could�cause too much ruckus.

Arriving at the ranch, I turned Monte ito a pasture alone in belly high grass where he chomped and relaxed for a couple days.� I don't think he had ever been in such a horsey haven.� Third day I caught him, saddled him and we flew off together.� This tiny little guy bacame big underneath me and carried me at high largo speeds as though I weighed nothing.��I discovered that from on�his back he was extremely easy to control.� Fun, fun, fun!� We floated around the valley for the next week.

Even at age twenty, Monte was still teachable and his ground manners improved beautifully with a couple of the Parelli games under his cinch.

Home again to weeks and weeks of rain and thus no riding.� Finally the sky cleared and I grabble the opportunity to load up my mighty mite Paso Fino stallion and head up to my friend, Margaret Lyken's place and Gundy Creek, 16 miles off�of mile 109 on the�Alaska Highway.� Our plan was to go search for some missing horses of theirs.� We didn't get away from the ranch until late afternoon.

Now, Monte had come out of flat Florida and even ot the�Halfway I had ridden only level trails with him.� The first 100 yards out on this trip�Monte tripped over a ditch and fell right to his nose.� It was as though he said to himself.�"O.K. Never again."� And he didn't ever again stumble as we traversed hills, bog, windfall, and bush for approximately 15 miles to our destination.� With Monte ever eager to see over the next rise, we often had to stop and wait for Margaret who was riding a big five year old quarter horse raised in that country.

We reached our furthest point, an abandoned commune that used to be called Shiloh, at dusk without finding the lost horses and after a short break turned for home.� Now, to draw a�picture for�you,�from Margaret's to the old commune was a small dirt road, wet and slippery from all the rain.� In the daylight we had bypassed most of it with shortcuts on sceismic lines but in the fast approching dark we decided to play it safe and stick to the road on the way home even though�it would add some distance for�us.� Each time we came to a point where we had come out of the bush�onto the road on the way, Monte stopped to tell me that that was the way to go back.� When I'd say�"No boy, we have to keep going this way", he'd carry right along but he never once failed to show me the trail we had come on.

We kept�having to wait for Margaret on�her quarter horse and as it got darker and darker the waits got longer and longer.� The darker it became and the more slippery it became, the smoother�Monte became, until he was sliding along with the feel of a bird on the wing.� That's when I first felt a�tear im my eye.� What an amazing horse!

Finally the wait for�Margaret go so long that we went back to find her, which Monte did willingly.� Her�horse was tired (to be�fair, he was�very green and inexperienced) and had decieded enough of this.� This range is my home and I'm staying here.� She couldn't budge him.� So, I took his halter shank and with my little Paso Fino�stallion leading the�way for this big tall quarter horse, we forged on.� Must have been quite a sight to God and the angels looking down.��The wolves were howling in the not so far distance to add to the effect.

About four miles from Margaret's ranch we�came to a bridge over a small but�swampy river.� An oil company had (of all things!) built a cattle guard into the bridge so we couldn't cross it.� Margaret�knw this (she had�neglected to tell me) but�was used to a�safe crossing�right next to the bridge.� Whoops!� We found the neighbours had�fenced that off for some reason.� So there we were�and I�wasn't about to risk crossing a boggy river in an untried place in the� pitch dark so we agreed to tie our horses and walk the few miles to the Lyken ranch for my�pick-up and trailer so we could trailer the horses across the bridge.� I tied Monte to a big willow bush, tromping himself out a little hidey hole�cave for protection.� No wolves were going to get him!� What instinct and wisdom this great hearted horse had.

You could almost see him laugh for joy at sight of the trailer as he jumped right in.� It�was obviously a welcome sight to him.� Margaret's horse having never been in a trailer before took a little persuasion but�soon we were safely on our way.� It�was only midnight.

A midnight adventure, but worth it all to�experience just really what�kind of horse this was, this 14 hh, twenty year old stallion, Monte Frio, from Florida who was nearly the last of a forgotten line.

Story by Marilyn Salmond

Footnote 1:� Monte Frio's sire was Monte Cristo out of Puerto Rico who had been named Island Fino Champion of Puerto Rico.� Monte Cristo was sold into te United States where he only had two colts before he died.� Monte being the only breeding stock of that line left was sold from person to person as two of his owners passed away.� Eventually he was sold in a group of Paso Fino horses to Savanna Downs in Grande Prairie, Canada where he sired a full crop of colts.� All are geldings except for two fillies.� Of the two fillies he sired, one will likely never have a foal as she is now badly foundered.� The other was named La Monte after her sire and I purchased her at the same time I acquired Monte.� She is trained and resold as of Dec. 2005 to Colin Gosselin of Sherwood Park, AB.� Colin has access to a Paso Fino stallion not related to La Monte so the line may someday carry on through her.� I believe Monte is the "old" style of Paso Fino.� A bit more raw boned than today's show horse but built with huge lungs and heart that gives him incredible stamina that can go the distance whatever it might be.� He passed this on to La Monte.