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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

September 20, 2010

Day 2.2: I'm Riiiiiiiding In The Rain

Each day we ride, Gaspar and Tostado lead the way.  Then myself, mum, and Anna fall in line behind.  Bringing up the rear is Christian, a chagra (Andean cowboy), riding a bright dun Criollo/Columbian Paso cross who gaits along smoothly.  This afternoon, we are only doing a short loop of a couple of hours so everyone can get to know their horses.  After lining up five horses to cross the PanAm Highway (holy logging trucks, batman!), I follow Tostado as we climb up cobblestone streets into a village, heading for the slopes of Imbabura.


We picnic in a eucalypt grove around 3,000 meters high after picking our way through the fields and huts of the village. The horses catch a nap as we toss our chicken bones to the hungry dogs who miraculously turn up at the unpacking of saddle bags.


Here, Gaspar and Christian are readying a scrumptious lunch while we have just discovered the tasty treat that is salty banana chips. In the US, our banana chips are tough and sweet; these are much more resemblant (is that a word?) of potato chips!  After lunch though, a sudden freezing cold rain blows in and we discover a new miracle in the saddlebags -- giant ponchos!  Little Capuli would rather turn his tail to the wind and wait out the storm, but we must get down off the mountain before the mud becomes too slick for the horses.  Luckily, it's a short journey back to Hacienda Pinsaqui and warm drinks!

After a hot shower, I wander out behind the main building to explore the acres of garden paths.  It comes with its own baby llamas!!!


Just say awwwww! The gardens themselves were lovely, full of unique blooms. Ecuador, with its equatorial climate, is big business for commercial flower companies. Huge greenhouses are everywhere because apparently, flowers will bloom all year 'round here, which then can be shipped all over the world. Here's a funky datura, who has a hallucinogenic aroma (I tested it, but I was apparently immune. Maybe I should have stood there longer.).


There were lots of other lovely things to look at in the fading light.


As the clouds crept up the volcano Cotacachi, the light disappeared and it was time to make my way to the evening reception. There was a bar hidden in a cellar, bedecked with horse show ribbons (the hacienda's owner was a successful breeder of Arabians and jumping horses). We chased the chill away with a welcome drink made of sugar cane and cinnamon steeped for a day, then topped off with sugar cane liquor. That was followed by a shot of anise liquor that made my entire body tingle all the way to my fingertips. So it must be good.

Then, a group of musicians entertained us with the traditional music of the Andean highlands. It had a unique, wild, and joyful flavour to it, even though I didn't understand what the songs were about (damn my pathetic Spanish). Note the young boy who is deeply intent on shaking that rhythm egg JUST RIGHT.



By this point, I was liquor-warm and dog-tired. After a beautiful pork fritata, I managed to slither under my (400) blankets (old houses are freezing!) with my new bestest friend: Mr. Hot Water Bottle who awaited me faithfully with his foot-warming goodness. Tomorrow: we would cross Imbabura to the Zuleta valley!

September 19, 2010

Day 2.1: Hacienda Pinsaqui. And Horses!

Otavalo market was a lesson in variety.  I saw one wizened woman crouched in a doorway, proferring a live guinea pig (they are a staple meat there, called cuy) by the neck.  The unfortunate brown creature hung from her fist with dull eyes, resigned to its fate.  Around a corner was this poster (left).  Yes, it is an announcement for an international conference on the commercial production of guinea pigs.  I was most amused by the long list of "Dr.'s" listed as speakers -- I would love to say I had a doctorate in guinea pig farming.  Alas, I never did get to see a guinea pig ranch -- perhaps their cutting horses are tabby cats!

The landscape had changed dramatically since leaving Quito. In the environs of the city, concrete houses were crammed into every available space. Now, the landscape had begun to open around Otavalo, nestled next to a lake and the volcanic presence of Imbabura.

Quito:


Looking toward Imbabura and the town of Otavalo:

Up to now, human development has oft resembled a war zone, no patch of land untouched by hard-scrabble subsistence living. Half-finished, crude buildings of cinderblocks with untrimmed rebar protruding six feet into the air haunt the landscape. Cattle are tethered by their horns to metal stakes hammered into the ground to forage on stubble and ribby dogs slink around corners.

So it's a blow to pull off the PanAmerican Highway into green lawns, hydrangeas, and an exquisitely maintained 18th century hacienda (ranch). It sprawls long and low, seemingly going on forever. I am spun back and forth between guilt and wonder. Heavy oak doors are painted a deep, rich blue and our room key looks like it unlocks someone's dungeon cell.


And it's finally time to meet the horses! I am about to burst from excitement as we change and then hustle down the path to the designated paddock. They are already awaiting us and watch curiously as we are briefed on the rules.


I am introduced to Capuli, a dark bay youngster (only 5 years old) with a gentle face and small fuzzy ears. He is mostly Criollo, which is the native breed of tough little horses who work at South America's extremes, and he has a little Spanish horse thrown in somewhere. He is also best friends with Tostado, who our guide Gaspar will be riding, which means that I must bend to the will of the horses and stay up front.  It's hard to take a picture of a horse when you are standing uphill, so here's the little guy with some crazy camera distortion!


Mum was matched up with a sturdy little roan named Antares (yes, after my favourite star!).  He was an excellent horse, always taking care of his person with patient experience.  Doesn't she look excited (apparently dorky grins of glee do not run in the family)!?


And Anna, the lovely Finnish girl who made up the third member of our group, started out with Gitano, who completed the colour spectrum with his white coat (although we later learned he loved to turn himself brown with cowpies and mud).  And yes, she thwarted the Helmet Nazi and wore a hat!!  The Finns are brave and hardy souls...  Doesn't Gitano look excited too!?


At last, it was time to RIDE!!!

September 12, 2010

The Big Tease

I am home!  I have not seen Solo yet, sigh.  But reports note that he is fine, if a bit sad.  I have downloaded the pictures from the past nine days.  Now to work on sorting & editing & recounting!  To keep you salivating until then....  (I shouldn't post my favourite picture first, but I love it too much not to)

This is me & Sam in Cotopaxi National Park, south of Quito.  Cotopaxi is the jaw-dropping volcano you see behind us.  Yes, it is real, & yes, it is active.  We were not far from the lower slopes, my little camera just sucked at metering in contrast situations. 

You can climb the volcano if you want.  Except you have to start at midnight & summit by sunrise so you are off the ice by 10 am.  Because then the ice bridges start to get brittle in the sun & you die.

But other than that...oh, & the fact that the summit is at 5,897 m (19,347 ft) & I couldn't even walk uphill for ten steps at 4000 m after a week of acclimatization...it's easy as pie!

September 11, 2010

Time´s Up Already ¨´imagine question mark here because I can´t find one on this keyboard´´

We are back in Quito.  I am itching to run down the street & go find the horses again.  The riding was beyond incredible.  There are many pictures tucked into my camera & we will also get a DVD of photos from the outfitter that she & a professional photographer took while we rode.  So, I will warn you now -- many posts of stories &pictures are to come as I drag entertain you with the trip. 

But none of the pictures will be able to truly capture the magnitude & scale of the neverending rows of hazy volcanos & wide high plains watched by hawks and condors.  I think I pulled a muscle in my neck trying to look at everything at once. 

And the horses....amazing.  Name a horse you know that can trek all day & canter along ridges at 4,200 meters above sea level (about 13,800 feet).  Whenever I tried to walk up a hill, I was about to collapse after five steps, even after a week of acclimatization.

So, back to Miami in the morning, then home to NC tomorrow.  I am sad to go, but twitching to see Solo.  Who will feel like a giant after these tough South American ponies.  Once I am back, I can begin the laborious process of sorting 600 pictures & uploading!  Till then, go hug a horse & enjoy the ride!

September 5, 2010

I Am In A Parallel Universe

And in said universe, I am typing on a Spanish keyboard, so forgive me in advance for strange characters & typos, should they appear.

At present, I am sitting in an exquisite 300 year old Spanish colonial hacienda that sprawls in acres of long, low stucco through breathtaking gardens of bouganvillea, datura, & spanish moss.  Deep blue doors are locked with keys that look as if they would unlock someone´s dungeon.  Century-old art & furniture that smells of history surprise us around every corner.  I am sure the porters go off to giggle every time I walk into our bedroom & go Holy crap!

This does NOT bear any resemblance to my actual life, so I have obviously been sucked into someone else´s.

I can´t possibly encapsulate even the last two days here, so I will stick with summary:

Everywhere we go, we are ringed with green volcanos sheathed in clouds at their summits.  The indigenous people trudge at the roadsides with the long braids & swaying skirts catching the air as they carry huge bundles or haul reluctant pigs to market.

And the horses (because that´s what we all really care about, right?) -- mine is a little dark bay Criollo with some Spanish blood thown in and with his little fuzzy ears, he reminds me very much of riding lifeshighway´s horse, Pete.  I am still trying to reliably remember the little booger´s name, but I think it is Capuli (you put emphasis on every syllable of names in Ecuador). 

He is only five, so he is still learning the ropes, but he has a good mind & a sweet face that I can´t resist petting.  He is best friends with our guide´s horse, Tostado, who is a striking bay roan Appaloosa/Criollo/Columbian horse, & as a result, I am constantly reminding Capuli that he is not to stick his nose right under Tostado´s tail.

We are off today for about a six hour ride traversing the side of a volcano (Imbabura) to reach our next hacienda.  If it is as mind-blowingly incredible as this one, I may simply pass out from sheer sensory overload.

If there is more free (although shudderingly slow) internet, perhaps I will be able to share more later in the week!  For now, I must go fill many water bottles & stock snacks into my packs so I can keep the blood sugar up all day!

September 1, 2010

Run Away, Run Away!

It's T-36 hours-ish until Ecuador Adventure 2010 begins!  Which means Flying Solo will be, uh, not so flying for a whole week.

I could be like a real blogger & write several posts & then set them on timers so it looks like I'm really blogging. But let's face it, ain't gonna happen.

I'm checking & re-checking the passport, looking up the weather for Otavalo (where the ride starts) for the 37th time -- like Weather Underground will accurately be able to predict equatorial weather at 10,000 feet above sea level. *snort*

I'll have two enormous memory cards in the camera, so if the gods are kind, I hope to have many exciting things to show you when I get back.  I left Solo in good hands, although I shall miss him TERRIBLY & I will be wishing every step that I was riding him instead.  The bad part about owning your own horse is that other horses then never quite measure up....

Everyone stay out of trouble until mid-September, at which point I expect you will all have new & exciting horse tales to share that I missed out on! Till then, get out there, hug a pony, & enjoy the music of hoofbeats on dirt; there is surely no better note in the symphony of days.

August 31, 2010

A Peaceful Mountain Weekend. Now With Less Peace.

We had a lovely evening Friday.  Camp was set up along the edge of National Forest, burgers were grilled, horses settled in their pens, and beer cans duly emptied.  I fell asleep watching fireflies compete with constellations for the right to bejewel the trees. Saturday morning dawned clear and sunrise brought birdsong with a chance of omelets (yum!). Lifeshighway and I studied maps, checked our stored waypoints in the GPS (we may or may not have a history of misdirection) and stuffed our saddlebags with beet pulp, apples, and beef jerky in preparation for a day of mountain exploration. Pete and Solo fueled their tanks with clover. Lifeshighway has generously shared her endurance expertise (and supplies!) with us; we have learned the value of bringing along pickmeups for the horses. Just like people, they burn up their calories and run out of steam, but a bag of beet pulp at lunchtime gives you a whole new horse to continue your day with!

SNACKS FOR ALL!



The ride itself was fantastic; five hours of streams and ridges, valleys and rock outcrops winding through the Uwharrie Mountains. Both our boys picked their way calmly through the rock-strewn trails with patience and confidence no matter how steep the challenge.



That's when it happened: I made the deadly error of speaking (it happens to the best of us). "Wow, we actually had a riding trip with no disasters such as getting lost or hurt!"

Then we got back. My first discovery was that my dressage saddle had created two huge pressure welts behind Solo's withers (horror!! shock!! anger!!). Apparently it is time to move on to saddle fitter number four. Sigh. A much more pleasant discovery was that his SI region, which was historically a trouble area, was NOT sore at all (cheers! glee! excitement!).

Second discovery, we got to spend all Sat night in the emergency room with someone who shall not be named (no horse riders or horses got hurt, everyone is completely fine now). By the time we got everyone back to the campsite, it was 2 AM and all were bleary-eyed. So instead of riding on Sunday (which I wasn't going to do now anyway due to aforementioned saddle issues), we headed home.

Aside from our foray into emergency medicine, I can happily say mission accomplished -- we completed a nice long ride I was hoping for in prep for next weeks tackling of Ecuador and I ended up with very little soreness. Solo did very well considering the humidity; I made sure to give him plenty of breathers and a good spongebath in a cold stream midway. And of course, there is nothing better for the mind and heart than this:

August 8, 2010

Surviving Summer

Lifeshighway & I enjoyed a thoroughly great ride this morning; Solo has turned into a fat blob during his vacation, trying to see if he can set a new record for inhaling Bermuda grass faster than it can grow under crazy daily rain.  Much to his dismay, now that we are back in training for the fall season, this means fat-burning workouts are in order.  Which generally means lots of walking & trotting on any trail I can get us to.

Much to my dismay, turns out that giving Solo a holiday combined with a relatively light fieldwork summer at the office means that MY legs don't feel so hot after several hours of trotting through the woods.  Ow.  I hate it when your body forcibly informs you that you are not 23 any more.

It's still hot out too, although 90 degrees feels downright pleasant after suffocating in a wet, dank cloud of 107.  But it can still present a challenge to, say, moving.

You basically have two options:
(a) You can take the true Southern route of just moving very slowly & drinking lots of things out of tall glasses clinking with ice or...
(b) You get technical.  And by technical, I mean buy every product ever invented that dissipates heat & moisture & catches the faintest hint of breezes.  Leave the cotton locked in the closet.

So today I want to share with you a few of my favourite things that keep summer riding bearable.   (Disclaimer: I pick up most things either on sale or on eBay, I very rarely pay full retail price for anything.)

Riding Sport tights - matchy blue!
Breeches

I have four different pairs of "wicking" summerweights:
  1. TuffRiders Aerocool
  2. Irideons
  3. Tropical Riders 
  4. Riding Sport Performance Tights (*snif* 2015 search reveals these may no longer exist?) 
 All are pull-ons, except for the TuffRiders, which have a front zipper & snap.

Ironically, the most effective & most comfortable are the cheapest: the Riding Sports!   I picked them up on sale for around $30 & I LOVE them.  Yes, they do have a coloured stripe on your butt, but they outperform the other three too well for it to matter. 

The TuffRiders are the least cool.  They are comfortable & very durable, but do not offer any cooling bonus over "normal" breeches.   Happily I only paid $6 on eBay, so it doesn't break my heart. 

All four run pretty true to size except for the Tropical Riders (Endurocools), which are crazy long (and I have a 34" inseam) such that I have to fold up the elastic hem on the legs & fold down the waistband!  These last ones also have the greatest "you look like a human sausage stuffed in a fabric casing" effect, something the other three were much kinder about.

Shirts


My key here: DO NOT BUY ONES MADE FOR RIDING.  Not that they might not work, I am sure they do, but if anyone thinks I'm paying $60 for a short-sleeved shirt, they must have better drugs than I do!  I buy running shirts on sale at Campmor & Sierra Trading Post for $7-12.

Colours!
Saddle Pads

In the past, I have been very happy with my Roma Ecole pad with WickEasy lining. They're easy to find at pretty much all the major horse retailers. This summer has been so awful though, that I wanted to try to find something that was lighter.

A light bulb flickered while watching a barnmate pull out a baby pad.  Now I will readily admit to being a past baby pad hater, due to silly marketing offering them "to keep saddle pads clean."  Well, the general purpose of a saddle pad is to keep the saddle clean!  A pad to protect a pad??  Is my pad pad going to want a pad next??

Guess what -- now I own some baby pads, although NOT for protecting my saddle pads.  I picked up a couple Roma baby pads (a whopping $10/pair on sale) that are super light weight & cover less of my horse's sides.  They stayed put, despite no girth or billet straps, & washed up beautifully in the washing machine.

I eyed the CoolMax version, but refused to pay the steeper price.  Note that your basic baby pad is a flat rectangle; I fold the front edge ~1-1.5" back over the withers & it sits nicely.

So keep your eyes open for end of summer closeouts & inventory clearance sales this winter!  And stay cool, stay hydrated, & keep a close eye on your horse so we all make it to fall in one piece, albeit  with lightly toasted brain cells.

July 23, 2010

Things Are Not As They Seem

I thought Solo had missed me and was so excited to see me as my truck stopped in front of the barn at 7:30 tonight and he neighed a bold welcome.

Then I found out the horses just hadn't been fed yet and probably would have welcomed a monkey as long as it had opposable thumbs and could carry a grain bucket.

I thought I would kill time while the horses were eating by picking out stalls, as the barn was shady and it would be a nice light task.

Then my shirt drenched all the way through with sweat.

I thought I'd take Solo on a nice trail ride a bit after 8:00 pm, as the temperature would have dropped by then. Besides, I was riding in shorts and flip flops, I'd stay cool enough.

Then his sweat blended with mine.

I thought we'd move into the woods for shade and cooler air.

Then the evil deer flies swarmed Solo's head in an eager feeding frenzy.

Solo was excited about getting out and about, so I thought we'd do a bit of trot to get away from the flies and stir up a breeze.

Then the flies started flying faster.

I thought we'd move out into the fields, as the flies generally stick to the woods and shy away from open areas.

Then we lost the shade and got hotter, even in the slanted rays of the late evening sun.

I thought we'd better quit before we both lost our patience. So we did.

April 7, 2010

Burnout Is Real

Yes, all work and no play makes Solo one very dull, crabby boy.  He pretty much gave me the horsey finger as I tacked him up the other day and then proceeded to stand there with his head hanging like I was going to take him out and beat him with a stick.  This, then, is the end result of working on dressage All. Winter. Long.

But there is an escape!  We have finally managed to work out how to access miles of wooded trails out the back gate.  And have been busy over the last few days trotting merrily along them.  Which Solo loves to the depths of his soul.  Now if only I could get him to translate that loose, back-swinging walk and forward, lifting trot to the arena!  But what I do get is a horse that returns to the gate at the end of our ride with bright eyes, pricked ears, and a spring in his step.

Moral:  even I, a HUGE proponent of getting horses OUT OF THE RING, can fall into the trap of working only on work, thinking it will improve one's horse in a continual, linear fashion, and forgetting that this causes one's horse to go insane with boredom.  Horses like routine, but they also like things that are fun, low pressure, and relaxing.  So give those ponies a break and head out to soak up some birdsong and spring sunshine.  Just don't forget the tick check afterwards...

March 24, 2010

In Which Panties May Need To Be Changed

The last post was titled "Ups and Downs," not just because of the mountains because the day had a lot of ups...and a big down!

As we got back to camp, horses and riders both tired and hungry, I tied Solo to the back of lifeshighway's trailer after I untacked him for a few minutes so I could use the bathroom and change.  I returned a few minutes later to untie him.

And as I walked around the back of the trailer I heard a loud noise and saw my horse at the end of his rope, rearing and plunging as the entire 7' rear trailer door flipped end over end through the air.

This horse is going to kill me just by taking decades off my life at a time.

Yes, the metal door was detached from the trailer and flipped in the air to land phwaat on the ground.  What does one do when you see a situation like this?  Which, as we know with horses, may appear to occur in slow motion but actually occurs wham! in the course of about ten seconds.  Pretty much you stare for about a second with eyes like saucers and heart motionless as a cinder in your chest thinking Oh my mother-f@cking-god-of-all-things-unholy and then you go to your horse.

I approached Solo slowly as his adrenaline gradually diminished and I unclipped him, as he trembled with every muscle popped out at once. At which point he stopped shaking, sighed, and dropped his head to graze. Completely (thank you all powers that be) unhurt and holding no grudge against trailers for the unwarranted attack.

All I can figure out is that he somehow managed to pull his rope out and get it hooked under the edge of the door that I mistakenly thought was latched. He then threw up his head, freaked himself out, and lifted the entire door off the hinges with his short, muscly neck in about one second.

I have now aged roughly 7.62 years. The thought of what COULD have happened makes me throw up in my mouth a little. My horse appears to suffer no ill effects whatsoever. I think I even heard him giggle softly as he continued grazing.

March 23, 2010

Up And Down

In a small feat of willpower (and no small amount of ibuprofen) after Saturday morning's hullaballoo (which also set off a burgeoning migraine, oh fun fun fun), I gritted my teeth and hooked up the trailer that afternoon. I was NOT about to let a little pain (ok, a LOT of pain) get between me and a camping trip on a beautiful weekend!!

I met our bestest riding buddy, lifeshighway and we settled into camp on the northern end of the Uwharrie National Forest. Even the worst day can be redeemed sitting in a recliner chair nursing a good beer on a gorgeous spring evening, serenaded by the soft sounds of settling horses and the squeak of bats fluttering overhead at dusk.

Lifeshighway and I have a dream. We dream of a day when we go on a riding trip and NOTHING HAPPENS. While we enjoy the fact that there is always a good story to come home with, it really would be great if we could have a whole trip where no one gets a traumatic brain injury or no horses get sucked into cypress bottom bogs (oh yes, we've done that one) or we don't get hopelessly lost and end up trying to race the sunset out of the woods.

Here's the thing: normally, I have an excellent sense of direction. I am great at reading maps. My job relies on this ability, as I am routinely navigating teeny rural dirt roads and using only GPS and terrain clues to find field sites in rivers. However, something happens when I ride with lifeshighway. I think she is my kryptonite. You know when you take a compass to a place with strong magnetic activity and it just spins in circles? Yeah, it's like that -- I think she actually has a spinning core of molten iron and as a result, my compass needle spins wildly and uselessly as we blunder about the Carolina piedmont.

Last time we rode Uwharrie, we ended up traversing the same 1/2 mile section of trail approximately 6 times, as we'd go one way, panic, turn around and go the other way, panic again, turn and go the other way, panic...Pete (lifeshighway's awesome little endurance Arab) and Solo were ready to toss us in the river and hightail it home on their own.

Sunday, we rode out with not only two different maps, but a GPS unit as well. And had a gorgeous ride on beautiful trails, up one side of each mountain and down the other. The trails there can entail some technical riding, which I enjoy, including some steep rocky sections where I quickly dismount and walk down, letting Solo find his own way without my hindrance. And if you go before the leaves come out, you can get great views from the summits, as Pete and lifeshighway demonstrate below.

In fact, I can say that the entire ride was completely without event. Ok, lifeshighway may have enjoyed a giggle or two every time I dismounted and got back on, going Owwwwwwww! Ow ow ow! but hey, I live to entertain. We spent about three hours exploring the highs and lows, the ridges and streams, and traversing the rocks and logs of the woods at a slow, steady pace. All in all, pretty much a perfect ride! Until we got back to camp...

The big red man enjoys the view. Possibly thinking Dear god, I have to walk back to the trailer through all THAT?!

February 17, 2010

The First Step Of A Fabulous Adventure

Not exactly Solo related (although I wish I could take him), but it's horse related so I'm posting it because I am TOTALLY FREAKING EXCITED!  I just sent in my deposit for the following trip this fall:

A hacienda to hacienda ride through the high country of Ecuador.  Galloping through the high volcanic peaks & valleys of the Andes & experiencing the unique culture of the Cordillera for seven glorious days.

 
This shall be me!!

My mother & I will be undertaking this adventure together (and yes, those who know me, I have already sent her links on where to purchase her helmet, LOL) in grand style.  Ok, maybe I will be undertaking it in my usual dorky style, but still....

T - ....uhhh, however many days are between here & September 4th!!!!!

February 13, 2010

Blast From The Past

Today is a nasty, snow-ridden, mucky day so in order to entertain myself in lieu of going outside and getting cold, I start instead shuffling through the stack of old photographs I brought home at Christmas.

Growing up, I never had my own horse. The closest I got was the Welsh Mountain Pony X we leased for a while in California. So I eagerly pounced on any opportunity to ride anything remotely horselike and counted it as a good day. Ah, 80's fashion was so unkind to all of us...





I am in the back, my little brother sits up front. Two childhood friends smile at the camera. I am turned away, peering around to see, fixated on the wonder of this magical, living, breathing, powerful, beautiful animal that carries us. She was a little Asian elephant at the Cincinnati Zoo -- with four legs and a tail, close enough to a horse to count as riding!

If, perchance I found myself near ACTUAL horses, I was fixated. Occasionally I would find myself reduced to paroxysms of ecstasy, like over the Christmas holidays of 1991. I was 12 and we vacationed at Tanque Verde Ranch, a luxurious place nestled in the mountains near Tuscon, AZ. You got to hang out with other kids away from your parents all day -- and you got to ride every day. Twice. Cantering on sandy trails winding through the washes and peaks of the beautiful Saguaro National Monument. It was heaven.



I wish I could remember this little bay gelding's name that I am riding (sans helmet, gasp!). He had a respiratory problem when he loped, so I could only ride him in their arena. When we went out on our rides, I had to switch to a big freckled grey.



I remember a clear desert afternoon as we rode through a wash, my little brother, myself, and our chaperone who led, we encountered a wide patch of quicksand. The leader's horse stumbled in and bounded through. Next, my little brother, 9 at the time, clung tightly as his smaller horse leapfrogged across. He dissolved into tears as the saddle horn pummeled his crotch repeatedly. In true big sister fashion, I giggled at his plight.

As I kicked the grey forward to cross the sand, he took two steps and plummeted to his belly in the muck. The gelding froze, unwilling to thrash with me on his back, but uncertain of his ability to escape. I immediately hopped off. Since I was a tiny beanpole of a kid, I stood easily on the surface of the quicksand that had swallowed my horse. I stepped forward and clucked gently and calmly to my grey friend, calling, "C'mon, buddy, you can do it." In two leaps, he popped right out and shook himself up. I scaled back on with a grin.

I believe our guide's eyes nearly popped out of her face at my calm problem solving and for the rest of the day, she told our story around the ranch. My mother heard the story third hand before we rejoined her for dinner and instantly realized, "Yep, that's my daughter." I always was good in a crisis, LOL.

January 31, 2010

Where's That One Horse Open Sleigh When You Need It?

T-1 day to injections!

But we enjoyed a snow ride anyway, *crunch crunch crunch crunch*, sporting our sexy new quarter sheet. Hopefully, there will be an exciting vet report tomorrow...

December 15, 2009

Tree = 1, Equestrienne = 0.1

We (lifeshighway and I) had a great ride on Saturday. Solo and Pete, lh's great little Arabian endurance partner, run so well together. The horses were primed, the footing was perfect (I love thee, Sandhills, for being my go-to place when the rain turns everything else to hopeless mud), and even human spirits were up. It was a bit cold, but not brutally so and we moved out with joy. Solo jumped beautifully, he's really beginning to consistently jump AROUND the jump, cracking his back and using his head and neck well -- amazing what happens when I stop riding like a drunken ape. We stopped back by the trailers to have a snack and then went back out. It was shaping up to be the best ride in a long time.

Until.

Until we were trotting slowly up a hill. Solo was in his usual position as lead horse, Pete was following. I always keep an ear cocked for Pete's hoofbeats and bells behind me to keep tabs on his location. The horses were a bit tired by this point, so things were pretty mellow. All of a sudden, I heard lh give a squeak (a squeak I've only heard once before when a horse stomped on her foot) and I spun around to see Pete flailing sideways and lh embracing a tree trunk face first, then rolling slowly to the ground.

Oh shit.

You have to understand, we were in Sandhills pine savanna, that looks like this --> not exactly closely packed woods. So what the hell just happened? I was already jumping off Solo (Pete was already calmly munching grass to the side, the little piglet) and hollered at lh not to move. She had a pair of broken glasses and a bloody mouth and I feared the worst after hearing too many fatal tree encounter stories. Her helmet was cracked (thank God for helmets) and I worried about concussion.

After a few minutes of breathing, we ascertained that nothing (miraculously) seemed to be broken aside from glasses. A bitten lip, a sprained wrist, a wrenched back and some bruises appeared to be the sum total. It turns out Pete had just taken a bad step, tweaked his leg, lost his balance, and managed to do so next to the only tree within about 20 feet. Completely random, unpredictable, and begun and ended within seconds.

We led the horses for a little while to let lh work through the inevitable shaking adrenaline surge we all get after we fall off, then remounted to return to the trailers. Only to discover that in the process of dismounting, etc, I had gotten turned around and lost my idea of direction. No problem, we'll just let Solo find the way back, he always finds his trailer! At which point, Solo, with great enthusiasm, led us to a random pasture of horses. Thanks, buddy.

In short, a couple hours later, in the pitch dark, after asking for directions and following the highway (thank you, Solo, for being unflinchingly matter-of-fact about taking us home on the dark road shoulder where I am blinded by headlights and can't even see the ground), we arrived in a tired heap at the trailers. We loaded up everyone in my rig, as we didn't want lh to drive the two hours home after having busted her head.

Turns out, she DID have a concussion, confirmed by a hospital visit later that night. Which means she'd probably be dead right now without that helmet. Which is why I gave her 0.1 points in the post title for not being TOTALLY defeated by that inconveniently located longleaf pine. Which is why I tell people OVER AND OVER AND OVER, it doesn't matter if you are a great rider on a calm horse on good footing on a quiet ride, you can STILL fall off and bust your head open in the blink of an eye! So wear your freaking helmets (unless you are obnoxious, in which case, well, if you remove yourself from the gene pool, I guess we won't all cry too much)!

So until next time, me and my weary horse will be sprawled out in the stall recovering from that particular adventure!

December 11, 2009

Frosty The Horse(Wo)Man

DEAR GOD, IT'S COLDER THAN A POLAR BEAR FART! Ok, yes, the zoologist in me realizes that even from a polar bear, the fart would, in fact, still be warm, but you get the idea.

For some insane reason, North Carolina has turned into some sort of arctic hell and it is hovering around 35 degrees today, although there is a cold bite to the wind far below that. Yes, yes, I can hear your Yankee-winter-snob comments already, but look -- 35 is COLD here and it will be 22 tonight and that's cold, I don't care who you are. I moved here because I didn't WANT winter!

Solo is snug as a bug in his blanket (see look at right, he blends in with his pasture!), although he and the other horses turn their collective noses up at the lovely shelters provided for them, preferring to sprawl in equine abandon in the half-frozen mud puddles. We hurl them hay to help them stay warm and I am, as ever, very glad that he gets to stay out and keep those joints moving in this ever-changing weather. Tomorrow, we are off with our riding buddy, lifeshighway, for a wonderful riding trip about an hour and a half south to gallop and jump with glee across a few thousand acres of pine savanna preserved just for equestrian pursuits, the prospect of which leaves me twitching with happy anticipation. I will be wearing approximately 16 layers of clothing, 15 of which I will probably want to rip off after the first minute of trotting.

Stay warm, fellow horse lovers, and don't forget to kiss a warm furry nose tonight, it helps to keep the winter doldrums away.

September 17, 2009

BAM!

Ian had taught me that I was not even scratching the surface of my horse's potential. I wasn't challenging him or myself, which does explain my own restlessness quite a bit.

So we kicked it up a notch. Or two. I asked a little more from our flatwork and I moved up the jump cups, focusing on forward and bold.

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I also moved up a division in our little on-farm shows and Solo didn't let me down, ending up as Reserve Champion for the year in Adult/Children's Hunter (2'3"-ish).

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Of course, we took time off to play too! One of my goals for Solo is to make him the most well-rounded horse ever and this includes trips hither and yon to explore the great outdoors. This trip was a phenomenal one to a beach at the mouth of the Neuse River.

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The view from the saddle

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Me and my boy

Is there any greater feeling of triumph than galloping your horse down a beach? 
I have no word better than "sublime."

August 31, 2009

A Tale Of Two Trailers

As I intimated in my clinic post, trailering had suddenly become an issue in the winter of 2006. At the time, I had my cherry red 1987 WW which stood at a whopping interior height of 6'6". As I mentioned, Solo technically fit in it. As long as he did not raise his head or want to move. At all. It had mangers and a solid divider too, so his feet had to STAY PUT. But he'd ridden in it quietly the three hours up when we moved and we had gone on a trail trip or two.



When I went to load him up for our PNH clinic, his reaction went something like this:

Walk walk walk walk, oh, the trailer, hmmmmmm, I don't really want to OHMYGODHELLNO I AM NOT GETTING IN THAT THING SCREWYOUI'MOUTTAHERE!!!!!!!

Yes, he stood up on his hind legs (I had put a butt rope on him for gentle encouragement), hopped over the rope and galloped off down a fenceline.

Leaving me standing with a longeline and ropeburn in one hand (note to self: gloves are a good invention) and a dumbfounded look on my face. Well, crap, now what?

I went and got my horse again and recruited two helpers from the barn and with a little coercion (which included me smacking my head on the escape door, gah!) we got him in and slammed the door. It would get us there.

At the end of the clinic, dear, wonderful Carol spent two hours with me and Solo showing how to properly load a horse onto a trailer. I use that method to this day: keep their feet moving forward. Life outside the trailer SUCKS REALLY BAD and life inside the trailer is awesome and full of pets and treats.

My conclusion: 6'6" trailers are for cows and small ponies. Not for 16 h beefcake horses. It had to go. AND since my Expedition had broken down on the way home from the clinic and was quickly revealing itself to be a problem ridden BEAST, it HAD to go, I was tired of fixing it.

New rig requirements:

-7' tall!!!!!!!!!!
-stock sides (Horses need ventilation! If they are sweaty when you pull them off the trailer, "ur doin' it rong!"
-straight load (My horse just didn't fit in any slants I tried, he was too long)
-bumper pull (I still wanted an SUV)
-steel steel steel (I like my horse haulers heavy and strong)
-dressing room (I am a charter member of the club I Have Too Much Crap Even Though I Only Have One Horse )

Voila!!!
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It had 150,000 miles but it purred like a kitten and had a brand new transmission. I <3'ed the Tahoe!

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2007 Adam Special 15' -- brand new on the lot!

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Open, airy, inviting, just the way I wanted it!