I know you have earned an Encore update, but I have some amazing images to upload and organize first.
At the moment, however, I have something to say. I preface by saying that, in the National Forest where we spent the weekend, there are a variety of equine campgrounds, ranging from a gravel lot with no electricity and no permanent equine enclosures to a lovely bathhouse, cabins, grassy campsites, multiple barns and pens, and washracks. There is a reason I pay extra to camp at the latter, although even it is not immune to idiots.
If you travel with your horse, even if you are "only" trail riding, you have the following obligations:
-Your horse must have a safe place to stay overnight, with clean and safe footing, free of hazards, where he can lay down and rest after hauling your butt up and down mountains all day.
-Your horse must ALWAYS have water to drink. Yes, really, always. It is your responsibility to check his bucket periodically to make sure it stays full and clean. I don't care if the bucket is heavy, your arm will not detach. You can always use several smaller or half-full buckets to top it off. If we have to fill your horses' empty buckets when it is 90 degrees and they slurp down the entire thing in one go, they have just told on you.
-After you have ridden, I don't care how hot you are, how many beers you want to drink, how long you want to practice your redneck yells, which of your handguns you want to play with, or which of your shirtless neighbours you want to flirt with (all of which I saw when we rode through aforementioned other camping areas). Your first responsibility is to make sure that your horse is hosed off, cooled out, his feet and body are checked over and returned to safe place where he can rest with water. Only after all this is completed may you attend to whatever else it is you want to do.
-Even after you have put your horse away, you must go check on him 30 minutes to an hour later; he may have guzzled his bucket of water after hauling said butt up said mountains and need a refill. Or he may be showing delayed signs of heat stress or colic or other problems. It is your job to know and respond.
-If your horse's back is shaped like a U, his pelvis is rotated on the end of his spine, and the top of his rump sits 4" higher than the low point of his back and all of his back muscle is completely atrophied, leaving a ribby, dangling belly between normally muscled shoulders and haunches, for the love of cod, your saddle does not fit, your horse's back has a major problem and you should not be plopping yourself up there without addressing it.
-If you have failed to do these things and I have to ride through your equine ghetto of a campground and see your dead/dying horse lying in his shoddily constructed "enclosure" of ancient tape around trampled manure and mud while you peer at him from 20 feet away and then wander back to your trailer without a peep and if I have to wonder whether your potbellied shirtless neighbour is actually going to try and shoot your horse with the 9 mm handgun he is playing with on the other side of me, it is going to take every ounce of willpower within me not to leap off my horse and push you in front of the next passing logging truck. Or possibly attempt to stab you to death with the dull knife in my saddle bag. If I have to ride away as quickly as possible, praying I don't hear gunshots behind me, I am going to wish upon you the worst karma I can think of and then I'm going to get even more creative than that and wish that.
The horses don't get a choice (although I would be deeply gratified if they trampled you the next time you came in the pen); therefore, you don't have one either -- you must attend to their safety and needs before all else. Then I don't care how many beers you drink or how little clothing you wear as long as it doesn't wake me up.
End PSA.
At the moment, however, I have something to say. I preface by saying that, in the National Forest where we spent the weekend, there are a variety of equine campgrounds, ranging from a gravel lot with no electricity and no permanent equine enclosures to a lovely bathhouse, cabins, grassy campsites, multiple barns and pens, and washracks. There is a reason I pay extra to camp at the latter, although even it is not immune to idiots.
If you travel with your horse, even if you are "only" trail riding, you have the following obligations:
-Your horse must have a safe place to stay overnight, with clean and safe footing, free of hazards, where he can lay down and rest after hauling your butt up and down mountains all day.
-After you have ridden, I don't care how hot you are, how many beers you want to drink, how long you want to practice your redneck yells, which of your handguns you want to play with, or which of your shirtless neighbours you want to flirt with (all of which I saw when we rode through aforementioned other camping areas). Your first responsibility is to make sure that your horse is hosed off, cooled out, his feet and body are checked over and returned to safe place where he can rest with water. Only after all this is completed may you attend to whatever else it is you want to do.
-Even after you have put your horse away, you must go check on him 30 minutes to an hour later; he may have guzzled his bucket of water after hauling said butt up said mountains and need a refill. Or he may be showing delayed signs of heat stress or colic or other problems. It is your job to know and respond.
-If your horse's back is shaped like a U, his pelvis is rotated on the end of his spine, and the top of his rump sits 4" higher than the low point of his back and all of his back muscle is completely atrophied, leaving a ribby, dangling belly between normally muscled shoulders and haunches, for the love of cod, your saddle does not fit, your horse's back has a major problem and you should not be plopping yourself up there without addressing it.-If you have failed to do these things and I have to ride through your equine ghetto of a campground and see your dead/dying horse lying in his shoddily constructed "enclosure" of ancient tape around trampled manure and mud while you peer at him from 20 feet away and then wander back to your trailer without a peep and if I have to wonder whether your potbellied shirtless neighbour is actually going to try and shoot your horse with the 9 mm handgun he is playing with on the other side of me, it is going to take every ounce of willpower within me not to leap off my horse and push you in front of the next passing logging truck. Or possibly attempt to stab you to death with the dull knife in my saddle bag. If I have to ride away as quickly as possible, praying I don't hear gunshots behind me, I am going to wish upon you the worst karma I can think of and then I'm going to get even more creative than that and wish that.
The horses don't get a choice (although I would be deeply gratified if they trampled you the next time you came in the pen); therefore, you don't have one either -- you must attend to their safety and needs before all else. Then I don't care how many beers you drink or how little clothing you wear as long as it doesn't wake me up.
End PSA.
