At one overlook, I attempt to turn my mount, Cowboy, off the path. The horse, stubborn as a baseball umpire, has no intention of letting a rookie make him deviate from his standard routine. We ride about an hour. By trip's end, the beast and I have negotiated a compromise that a union organizer could admire. Cowboy reluctantly obeys a few commands, as long as they don't violate his general route-following intentions.
Lodging also includes gourmet meals served family-style in the ranch's dining room.
During dinner, one of the owner-hosts announces optional evening activities. Bundled like Nanook of the North, I join a small procession following the ski track across a snowy meadow. Basking in the fire's warmth, we gulp mugs of hot chocolate laced with peppermint schnapps. As we kick and glide through the forest, our leader frequently pauses to identify tracks of coyotes, deer, elk and moose that cross our path. The terrain rolls upward, then ends with a quick downhill run.