There was a pair of elderly walkers back there and they were bloodied and unlikely to make it out of the canyon on their own.
Tom had tried earlier to talk his mother out of walking the grueling 18-mile segment of Wyoming's Bighorn Wild and Scenic Trail Run. At 77 years, Ann suffered from Alzheimer's. Her coordination and strength just didn't seem up to the task of negotiating the rugged course that descended nearly 3,500 feet.
In the months leading up to the race, Ann could manage maybe a mile walk around her home, but she never faltered from the idea she could "do the Bighorn."
On that hot afternoon, with the sun baking the ground into a powdery dust, Tom got the news that his mother was hurting while waiting at an aid station along the race route. He and his wife immediately ran up the trail.
"About a mile and a half up the trail, there was Mom and Dad coming down toward us holding hands," Tom said. "They both seemed surprised to see us. They asked 'what's going on?' "
Tom stared at his mother - her knees and elbows stained with blood. She'd apparently taken several nasty falls.
"She looked like she was in pretty bad shape," Tom remembered. "I tried to tell her that she'd gone far enough when she arrived at the aid station. That it was OK to stop."
That's when the dancing began.
Ann wanted to finish the race on her own terms. To prove she was capable of doing just that, she began to dance around the aid station and even knocked over a chair in that moment of exuberance.
She walked the last five miles under her own steam on that hot summer day.
"We were at the finish line and you could see them coming a quarter of a mile away," Tom said. "People were clapping as they walked in hand in hand. I'll never forget that moment."
That was the story of Ann Hayes' life.
She was never afraid to pick herself up off the ground and climb back right into the middle of whatever activity she was involved in at the moment.
Over the course of 77 years, she married her true love, left behind her beloved Vermont, carved out a life in Montana while raising three children, became a stalwart in the region's sport of endurance, horseback riding, served as a licensed practical nurse, taught at DeSmet School, spent a decade running her own preschool and became a well-known competitor on the race-walking circuit.
On June 30 of this year, she passed away in her sleep at home in Evaro after leading a life that was full and vibrant.
"She touched a lot of people's lives," Tom said. "To me, she was simply my mother. But when I look back and see the things she's done, I realize just how remarkable of a life she had. There are not a lot of people who have done that many different things.
"She taught me to take life as it comes. To always be optimistic. Things will always turn out for the best. And don't be afraid to try something new."
That enthusiasm for life rubbed off on her three children and husband, Bob.
"Sometimes I thought she was a little overshadowed by the rest of the family," said Ann's daughter, Suzanne Hayes of Ovando. "She was an amazing person who did a lot of extraordinary things ... as a result, she raised us to be independent and very sports-minded."
Tom is a triathlete and ultra-marathon runner. Son Andy a smokejumper and was a competitive mogul ski racer. Ann's husband, Bob, started running at age 60 and continues to compete in long distance races 20 years later.
And Suzanne learned her love for horses and the challenge of endurance rides from her mother. That competitive spirit she inherited from Ann has helped her become one of the best endurance riders in the country, if not the world.
Ann grew up Vermont in a family without a lick of horse knowledge.
She taught herself to ride. When she turned 18, Ann entered the oldest endurance ride in the country - the Vermont 100.
"It was 25 miles to the race site," Suzanne said. "She rode all the way there, then competed in the two-day 100-mile race. When it was done, she rode on home."
Suzanne and Ann rode together in endurance rides all over the West for more than 30 years in a sport where a good day can turn bad as quick as a misstep or any little bit of bad luck along the trail.
On more than one occasion, Ann rode through the pain of broken bones that followed a fall.
"It got to the point where I didn't want to ride with her," Suzanne said. "She'd go off and it would scare me to death. I made all my friends ride with her. It wasn't that she went off any more than anyone else. It just happens."
In 1992 - the year that Suzanne had been chosen to compete at the Endurance Riding World Championships in Spain - Ann's horse rolled over the top of her. The accident broke her ribs, clavicle and an arm.
"It was to be my first time in Europe. It was a world championship, a huge event. It was going to be very intimidating," Suzanne remembered. "It was so important to me to have my mother there."
And there she was too. Her broken bones covered in casts and other injuries wrapped in Ace bandages.
There was no way Ann would have missed it.
When Suzanne faced down cancer - "my year of hell" - Ann was there by her side.
"That's just how she was. She'd drop everything when things would happen ... she was always positive and always there for you."
"Everything she did, she did 100 percent. She loved being a nurse. She loved teaching. She loved riding horses. And she loved going to races," Suzanne said. "I was her best friend. And she was mine."
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