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We Are Flying Solo

Showing posts with label trail ride. Show all posts
Showing posts with label trail ride. Show all posts

February 2, 2016

Of Tales And Trails


Do you think our stories break when we do?  Or do they just get so tangled up that we can't find a view of the road?

I'm still struggling to figure it out - or at least looking for some high ground that might offer a bit of perspective.  Who knew the search would be measured in years??  But the tangle, the fog, whatever it is that swallowed the map is the same thing that has dragged at my efforts to write to you.

This blog is a journey, just as much as the tales it chronicles.  I guess it shouldn't be shocking that a journey involving horses has sinkholes, detours, & inexplicable roadblocks!  Nonetheless, I apologize for my stutters, fits, & gaps of silence (although more than one person that knows me might say that last is a blessing, ha).

I'm working hard on the search for impulsion, though.  Half-steps are hard for horses & people (dressage joke FTW)!  I do feel like there's been some improvement in muscling!

Encore approves
Stepping Out

Encore & I did get to indulge in some desperately-needed trail therapy on Sunday.  Sun & warmth & wait, was that a bud on that tree?

Riding has been a wee bit challenging for everyone this winter, so our rehab pretty much matches my posting attempts:  sporadically possible, with moderate chance of fail.  But there be muscles on the horse too!

We've combined hill-walking, W/T transitions with roundness, some collected walk with lots of topline stretching, & occasional bursts of weather-permitted trot sessions.  While we're hardly ring-ready, Encore's been pushing evenly behind (one of my big indicators) & happily loped over some 18" obstacles.

Getting back in the woods was a wonderful treat - many thanks to lovely neighbour Vanessa for  pony daycare, as poor Solo can't keep up with giant TB strides for two hours anymore.

And my gratitude to you for all the forms of support & patience, no matter how small:  they always means so very much!

Deep breath then, & we shall attempt another step.

I'll never tire of my sky!
I have heard that voice many a time when asleep
and, what is strange, I understood more or less
an order or an appeal in an unearthly tongue:

day draws near
another one
do what you can. 

-Czeslaw Milosz

November 30, 2014

Haircuts & Happiness

Tractor w Drag
It IS satisfying, though...
Yep, that’s what passes for excitement around here – unless you really want to hear how gratifying it is to drag a 3-acre pasture.  The satisfaction of decimating every little poop pile…

*ahem*

Sorry, where was I?  Oh yes, a brief update, aka “weird things that horse people find thrilling.”

Haircuts!

Saturday found me bound & determined, with a set of T-84 blades in hand, on my most beloved AGC2's (dang, they used to be a lot cheaper AND I got a #10 blade included) & a can of Cool Care at the ready.  I truly hate that sweated, matty winter girth-hair.

It's a start -- my clip jobs are generally piecemeal works over the course of weeks, heh.

*not sure why these photos are showing up blurry, but if you click to embiggen, they will sharpify, sigh*

Solo Nov 2014 Clip 002 (Small)
Oh no, she haz teh clipperz...
Encore Nov 2014 Clip
Relax, bro, I feel pretty...

Happiness

Even simpler.  Work & the other 500 aforementioned sources of stress have left me with little energy to climb on horses.  We won’t discuss why this picture does not include liver chestnut ears.  But bliss is the perfect word for Solo & I with a small piece of the world all to ourselves:

30 Nov 14
In riding a horse, we borrow freedom.
-Helen Thompson, author, b. 1943

June 17, 2013

How To Make A Lasting First Impression

Perhaps you have a job interview for that dream position or perhaps you are pitching a hot new idea at a big meeting.  You want to blow their minds, right, and be certain that you are the hot topic for the rest of the day?

Do I have the solution for you!

This brilliant scheme was first practiced on a beautiful Saturday morning as BFF and I prepared to meet the group on our Mount Rogers trip last month.  The horses were tacked up and I had longed Encore briefly, since he had demonstrated an abundance of energy and he was wearing some new saddlebags.  Everything was purring along smoothly and our farrier came splashing across the creek to pick us up and lead us to the group rendezvous.

We mounted and followed him back through the trees to a small meadow where roughly eight other horses and riders awaited.  Encore had been placid as a lamb on the longe and marched calmly along just in front of BFF's Pete.  Entering the clearing, I smiled and waved at the group, as we did not know anyone except for farrier and his family.

"Hey, peoples!" I called gleefully.  The greeting is key to the success of this approach, as it maximizes your chances of being seen.

I didn't mean to...
No sooner had the words left my mouth, then Encore transformed from quiet trail horse to apocalyptic explosion.

As he leaped straight into the air like a gazelle, it felt exactly like sitting on a horse who is being stung by bees (been there, done that).  Yet there had been hardly any flying insects and all the other horses were watching in frozen amazement.

The first leap hurtled me vertically and to one side, but I had a leg on and felt like things could still be saved.  But then I received the memo that there was a second leap.  All hope was lost.

Luckily, at this point in my life, when being catapulted from an equine, I have learned to relax everything and roll with it (the deathly Solo fall was sadly, not a catapult situation).  While I landed hard, the impact was mostly to my head, shoulder and elbow, and I quickly rolled onto my back.  No harm, no foul (although I will be taking advantage of Saturday's helmet sales!), thanks to the ever-present noggin protector.  Without the latter, our weekend would have ended very messily right there.

Encore ran in a circle to his friend, Pete, and stopped, trembling.  I jumped up and walked over to him -- hey, my instinct is to FIND MY HORSE, since a certain orange beast was always one to run off -- to inspect him and try and solve the mystery.  We never were able to confirm much.  He was unhurt, no signs of bites or stings.  He did jump when I touched the saddlebags (I longed him in them and he has worn his own, very similar ones, heaps of times!!!) so I  moved them from the cantle to the pommel of the saddle.  I climbed back on and he was fine.

He was not being spooky or naughty or even excited.  Something convinced him that he was being suddenly stung and it scared the life out of him.  For a horse who spooks by standing still and getting very tall, I would never expect that kind of panic reaction, but he is still a horse and apparently believed that full-body rocket-launch was the only escape!

I am damn sure, however, that no one will EVER forget that entrance!!!

This post brought to you by WEAR YOUR FREAKIN' HELMET!, inc.

June 8, 2013

Beauty Discovered: A Ride Through The Rogers Neighbourhood

This OTTB doubles as an ATV
While insanity rages on everywhere else, I am already full of desire to return to my new favourite riding hideaway.  Where the only sound is one of horseshoes on rock, the soft creak of oiled leather, the quiet blow of breath through wide nostrils, the wind rustling secretively in treetops.  Where as you climb up the side of the mountain, your view is framed by attentive brown ears and the sunlight is filtered by beech leaves, which hide spring warblers.  Where, as you zigzag back and forth across the worn Appalachian Trail, you are equally likely to encounter a longhorn steer, a feral pony, a placid mule, or a staggering backpacker (poor silly buggers, WALKING, I can't believe I ever did such things). 

When you reach the wind-stripped grassy balds on the roof of this world, you can't help but catch your breath at the ancient beauty of weathered rock, once an ocean floor, and a patchwork of dark and light, evergreens scattered amid the paler greens of deciduous trees and wiry grass.  It seems like there is never enough time to take it all in before you, like the crystalline streams rushing beneath the rhododendron, must tumble back down the boulder-strewn hillside to camp.

This is Mount Rogers National Recreation Area, a jewel we have chased for years and only now gotten to  experience for ourselves, thanks to a generous invite from our farrier and his family.  Alongside it, the equally majestic Grayson Highlands State Park, both in VA  We stomped over about 18 miles of trails on Saturday and perhaps 8 or 9 on Sunday.  When can we go back?

It's not easy being green...in the parking lot
A handsome pondering of the climb.
Pete sees an opening to fuel up...
What happens when you point in front of a 5-year-old
Hey, take my picture!
Erm...that doesn't look like Encore...
Ummm...over here...
Are you drunk? Or hanging off the side of your horse?
See, like this!  Pete strikes a handsome pose at the top.
The Scales.  A historic livestock weigh station.
All trails go up.
Feral ponehs!
The ponies check us out in Grayson Highlands State Park.
Farrier and his boys get a closer look.
Squeeeeee!
It's a wee bit rocky...
You got anything good for lunch???
Beautiful balds.
The group reaches the summit in Grayson Highlands.

Too...much...pretteh...must...stop...camera...

But I wasn't the only one enjoying the view...THANK YOU, JOHNATHAN AND DONNA!

May 24, 2013

Climb Every Mountain

Neighbouring Grayson Highlands SP has feral ponies.
With fuel prices up, bills to pay, time at a premium, and my bestest riding buddy with a schedule perhaps even more difficult than mine, it's been a long time since I've been able to hit the road and enjoy the woods with a pony.  These trips are also an important part of our conditioning regime; 20 miles of walking up and down mountains is an unparalleled way to strengthen your partner's hind end (and wear out yours!)

I shall wait no more!  BFF and I share a farrier, whose wonderfulness you can find on the team page; he and his family go to Mt Rogers National Recreation Area every year, which is part of George Washington National Forest.  This year, we actually scored an invitation, which sent me on a hunt for the perfect campground, as I require that my horse have a safe and comfortable place to rest after carting my butt up clifffs for 8 hours!  Bonus:  if my horse loses a shoe, I won't have to go far for a repair.

Reservations are now made and we will be off shortly to explore new vistas of Appalachian beauty and relax with good friends and a good beer.  Hopefully I will even remember to take pictures.

Team Flying Solo wishes everyone a safe and wonderful holiday weekend.  Share your horse riding/hugging/dreaming stories for Memorial Day!

Mt Rogers NRA - I can't wait to be back on the trail!

October 13, 2012

Waiting....

I'm terrible at it.  So perhaps it's a good thing I've been left in charge of the farm this weekend while everyone is shining their silver at the State Fair.  With still about 30 horses left behind and a pony with an eye infection, plus pasture dragging and arena mowing -- oh wait, skip that one, the mower wouldn't start.  At any rate, better than fidgeting.

I don't want to do anything meaningful with Encore until Dr. Bob has a chance to set right what is sore.  Solo is quite of out shape; we did a bit of walk/trot work the other day (see our FB feed) and he was fantastic, but it definitely woke up some long-slumbering muscles who now whine in protest.

So instead, tonight I rode out bareback into the sunset, Solo's familar sway beneath me and Encore's bright face at my knee as we ponied him through quarreling mockingbirds and the fat-rolling scramble of groundhogs in a perfect early fall evening.  It was good to get them both moving slightly faster than a lazy pasture amble and good to be on a horse after tractors and pitchforks and grain scoops and hoses.

Only two more days, two more days....

September 21, 2012

Rocky Mountain High

If you don't know by now, I think the worst thing you can do to your sporthorse is make it an arena baby (edited to add:  ok, obviously not the worst thing.  I mean, you could beat it with sticks and never feed it.  But that would just be uncool.).  Biologically, physiologically (I have the degrees to back it up, go ahead, check me!) to make a tissue or system strong, you have to challenge it.  Obviously, the equation of equine soundness is one of multiple confounding variables, but I think a powerful influence is the lack of "off-roading" and far too much arena grooming, track prettifying, and grass fondling, which only leads to weakening soft tissues and bones.

What do I do about it?  GET OUT THERE.  It was Encore's first time in the Uwharrie National Forest and it took him a couple of hours to sort it out, but by the end of day one, he could power walk through a rock field without tripping even once.  Lessons: balance, agility, strength, decision-making, and focus.

A commenter asked me if I thought it would really make a difference in his training and I said yes.  Because it's not a walk in the park:



UwharriesSeptember2012004Small_zpsde5db84d

UwharriesSeptember2012014Small_zpsb32cabe7
This face always makes my heart skip a beat.

Photobucket
Pete and lifeshighway share a moment.  Or perhaps Pete wonders absently when dinner is.

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It was a short trail with a simple name...

Turns out, it really was that simple:



We even saw a wild sponge.  Which was odd; I rarely find them outside their normal aquatic habitats...

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But at the end of the day, it was all about team building and enjoying a beautiful weekend with friends.  And yes, my horse is tied by his reins when I am standing next to him.  Sue me.  ;P





September 13, 2012

You Buy, You Break

I could smell it already -- the clean air in a silent forest at the top of the mountain, a living quiet broken only by the sound of hooves on pine needles and limestone.  So when I went up to the farm last night, I thought I'd just do some light dressage schooling with Encore, focusing on suppling his muscles in balance, because he had a weekend of serious mountain climbing ahead.

That would have been way too easy.

It was a beautiful evening, too, and I almost quivered with anticipation of the soft, zen vibe of sitting on my horse in the setting sun.  Then I pulled off his fly sheet.

Raging across the middle of his back was a huge scrape, swollen and hot and sore to the touch.  You may have heard my bubble popping as I remembered why you have to always live in the moment with horses.

He hadn't broken the skin, just torn off all the hair and it looked much like I feel when I whack my hip on the corner of a dresser and say many bad words.  So I rubbing in some SoreNoMore and covered it back up.

It was a perfect opportunity to snag a bareback ride on Mr. Shiny instead, so I pulled him out, much to his glee as he has been doing his eye-begging once again, pleading me to fuss with him.  I started brushing him down and curried some mud off his hind fetlock -- to discover a full-thickness filet cut upwards through his ankle.  I could lift up the flap of skin and see pink tissue inside.

Of course.  My theory that the more horses you have, the more injured horses you have, stands intact.

Solo did not have any heat, swelling, or any signs of a problem around the cut, so I crammed a bunch of purple goo in there while he yawned.

Tonight, Encore's back looked and felt significantly better, so I hope that we will still be able to enjoy our mountain weekend.  It's not just about relaxing, it's something I have been trying to do all summer, because Encore lives in Flat Land and the mountain work could well be a make-or-break for his fall season, as he still needs a boost in hind end strength.  Our BFF riding partners have finally had an opportunity to get away and it is valuable in so many way. 

But somehow, and I don't even see how this is possible, I yet again end up at the last minute wondering, "Will he be better?  Do the pros outweigh the cons?  How does this fit into the big picture?"

Over it....

June 2, 2012

(Much Needed) Good Times With Good Friends

While Encore was pacing in his prison alone (so he says), I ran away like a rabbit with fire ants on its tail to the mountains.  The legendary bromance duo of Solo and Pete were reuinited, their love/hate/love no less diminished by time nor distracted by the addition of a lovely TB mare named Kate.

Matched bays survey the top of the mountain.  Crystal riding Kate and of course, lifeshighway riding Solo's incorrigible Arabian best friend, Pete.
The mighty eventer, he is fire, he is speed, he is....oooo, beet pulp!
Old lovers often reunite over...beef jerky. 
A break is the optimal time to mug any immobile humans for plastic bags with food potential.
Did you hear that?  BAG!!!!
Crystal and her mare, Kate, both lovely in the shade.  Kate has an amazing story of being rescued multiple times.  Born a throw-away baby with deformed legs, 13 years later, she is an endurance prospect and Crystal has turned a sour and frightened mare into a good-minded horse with a bold walk and a bright future.
Pete the amazing 50 mile endurance racer.  If a carrot snaps in the woods, HE can hear the sound.
Of course, the smurf must have his moment with the top ten 50-mile racehorse!

What happens when I try to take a picture of Solo while sitting down.
My heart is full, chasing adventure with my partner and friend, and he did well!