A Ride Down Memory Lane

In 2003, we owned a thoroughbred for a brief time. A 12-year-old off-the-track thoroughbred named U R Nice. “Nick” was supposedly retrained for trail riding and barrel racing but no one was using him for either activity. John bought him for all the reasons I didn’t think we should. He was flashy and fast. And tall. John already had Ginger that fit the flashy and fast bill. He certainly didn’t need another one.

I get “new horse fever”, too, and didn’t put up much of a fight about buying UR Nice. The boys were riding the horses I had bought for myself and although “fast” and “tall” were not necessarily traits in a horse I was looking for, I have always been fond of thoroughbreds. Despite harboring deep riding fears, I started riding Nick that spring.

From the day we picked him up, Nick was never easy to load. Even in our big 4-horse trailer, he wouldn’t go in first, middle or last. He just plain wouldn’t go in. So anytime we took him anywhere, John had to run his repel rope through the inside trailer ties and “pulley” him in. And it usually wasn’t very pretty or easy. But it worked. When it came time to come home, we’d make sure no one was looking and go through the same process. Once when he was loaded, he got his front hooves stuck in the mangers. I recall wondering “how in the heck did he do that?” and thinking “now what in the heck do we do about this?” I don’t recall how we freed him, but he came out of it no worse for the wear.

As summer approached that year, I decided we were going on our first big organized trail ride. I don’t remember if I knew there would be close to two hundred riders when I made this decision or if that part was a surprise to us when we got there. All I know is I could now write a book titled “What Not To Do On Your First Big Trail Ride.” Our experience definitely falls under the “live and learn” category with an emphasis on “live”.

When preparing for the ride, I made the following (what turned out to be pea-brained) decisions:
(Strike) 1: I would ride Nick
(Strike) 2: John could take our young 3-year-old gelding, Bo.
(Strike) 3: The kids can ride Blue & Mikey! Won’t they have fun!

I learned quickly that a ride such as this is no place for young kids, who were 6 and 9 years old at the time. My only consolation was they were riding good horses because we quickly found out that John and I would be no help at all to them should they need it!

The morning of the ride, we headed out toward the end of the group. Things were going pretty well, all things considered. The kids’ horses were good, Bo seemed pretty level and Nick was causing me no grief. The feeling of ease quickly ended when a buckboard pulled by drafts or mules (or both) came up behind us.

Nick heard the chains before we saw the wagon. He started to spin. And dance and hop and shake and sidepass. And then he hit reverse. He backed and backed and backed! He backed away from the buckboard. He backed away from our group. He backed with no regard to what was behind him and he backed into a barbwire fence. Even with blood running down his butt cheek, he still tried to escape the terror while too scared to turn his back to it. Only grateful that he backed instead of bolted, I dismounted and did the only thing I could do. I traded horses with John.



I bought Bo as a yearling at the Sutton sale. He was a solid chestnut with no white. Halter bred on the top, race bred quarter horse on the bottom side. He was as pretty as a copper penny. He bucked hard the first time he was saddled as a late two year old, but since then, had settled in pretty well. Although he had no real trail rides on his resume, so to speak, I wasn’t overly concerned about riding him. Unfortunately, the more John worked with Crazy Nick who now seemed to be a Kentucky Derby wannabe; I believe Bo was starting to feel the stress of that plus the two hundred riders. So he started to buck. Not with a lot of gumption, but enough to unnerve me a little more. I felt like I’d gone out of the frying pan and into the fire.

It seemed like it took forever for the team to pass us. We hung back until it was out of view. Nick got his wits about himself and Bo settled down somewhat, so John and I traded horses once more. We had a pretty nice ride…. For about 20 minutes.

Our plan was to stay at the back of the ride. There were just a handful of people further behind us and then the safety riders. Not much time had passed when we heard some commotion and saw that a rider behind us had been thrown from his or her horse. Broken bones were involved. The safety riders radioed ahead to stop the ride and requested transport for the rider. You guessed it. Bring back the buckboard! Ah, jeez….

We needed to leave the scene of the accident. Get the heck out of Dodge. Now! We slowly made our way around the waiting horses and started to ascend a hill off to the side of the trail when Nick saw them. He put on his brakes and started to back down the hill. There were people at the bottom; there was a creek at the bottom. We were NOT going down. In my best effort to change his mind, I whacked him on the butt with the reins. In his best effort to free himself of me, he reared straight up on the incline of that hill. As I fell to the side, I saw all 16 hands of that chestnut horse coming down with me.

Nick landed on his side with my right leg and hip under him. Luckily, he didn’t have the momentum to go on over me, but instead got up and high-tailed it out of there. I met John’s eyes. He quickly turned his attention away from me and took off on his colt in hot pursuit of the racehorse while two men whom I never met before, tended to me.

“Don’t move,” they told me as they pulled ice and Advil out of their saddlebags. Really, I could move and was more embarrassed to be lying there on the ground in front of two hundred riders. And God forbid someone call for the buckboard. So after I convinced them nothing was broken, with their help, I pulled myself up just as John rode back with the steed in hand.

I was always told “If you fall off, get back on!” (Yeah, like this wild-eyed horse was going to acknowledge my moxy.) I climbed back on, but in my heart and head, I was done with him. Then and always. After a short ride, I told John I would take my chances with the colt. John got back on Nick and I settled in on Bo. He felt strong and steady like a quarter horse should and a welcome relief despite his youth. There was no bucking this time. And the four of us headed quietly down the trail.

Shortly after the ride started moving again, the skies opened up and the rain began to pour. We put on our slickers and we rode on. My hip was throbbing and the kids were whining and we rode on. We were going so slowly, the safety riders finally gave up on us and passed us by. But we rode on. We finished that damn ride on the young colt and the racehorse.

I sold Nick not long after that ride. It must have been a good sign when he loaded like a pro in his new owner’s two-horse trailer. We kept in touch for awhile. It was a good match.

Most of the time if asked “Did you have a good ride?” I smile and say “Yes, the best!” and even when it wasn’t necessarily the easiest ride, anytime on a horse is a the best time for me. There were good things about this ride – the kids taking care of themselves and their horses taking care of them when John and I had no control whatsoever. The people who helped us along the way; friends I met on that ride who are still friends today. In that respect, the worst ride of my life was still a good ride.

I’ve grown a lot as a horseperson in the seven years that have passed. From how NOT to load a horse to how to best set myself up for success. Had I known then what I know now, Nick may have been my dream horse. I think of him as the one who got away. Bo, too, for that matter, as he sold the next year. I guess it wasn’t meant to be.

I have no pictures from that day. It took all my effort just to ride.

Big Canyon Weekend

This past weekend was our 5th Annual Horsetales trail ride and the group headed to Big Canyon Inn. Located on Hwy 7 between Bassett and Springview, Nebraska - just north of the Niobrara River - Big Canyon is one of the deepest in Nebraska and filled with much western folklore, including stories of horse thievin', Doc Middleton. Fellow Cowgirl Weekender, Jo Schaaf of Atkinson, was our trail host, guiding us on the best trails and providing us with the history of the land.

The trails at Big Canyon are beautiful. You can follow the cow trails to the logging roads which take you deep into the canyon along a shallow clear creek and then climb to the top where there once was a family run ski operation. Everything was green and fresh smelling and if you listened closely, you could hear the sounds of the water coming down the canyon into the creek.

Some of the group arrived on Wednesday, but a majority of us traveled Thursday. There were over 30 riders throughout the weekend. I logged over 13 hours in the saddle, covering nearly 35 miles.

One of the highlights of the ride was watching a friend begin climbing a steep hill way above the rest of us. I watched in awe as his young arabian went higher and higher, picking herself along a trailless path. Soon a second horse joined the climb. I didn't think too much about whether we would get there or not, but gave Windy some leg to get her opinion on the climb and off we went. I grabbed her mane as she galloped and lunged up the side of the hill, picking her path as carefully as those above her. And before I knew it, we were there on top of the world! What a rush!

The boys had their own rush when they decided to race on the soft sand road leading back to the ranch. McCain was on Ginger, Case on Butter and John was riding Blue. Blue didn't stand a chance against these mares! Case come in second to the McCain & Ginger team. His GPS said their top speed was 40 mph! I tried to capture the race, but you quickly lose sight of them.

The sky really was as blue as in these pictures. I didn't carry my good camera with me, but kept my small Canon handy in my saddle bag and was glad I could capture it on at least a few of the shots.

I have to share a short story from the trail. Our trail host, Jo, did not arrive until Friday. John and I have been to Big Canyon before, so thought Thursday evening, we could take the group on a short ride. Surely we could remember some of the trails from our previous visit. We'd save the good stuff for when Jo arrived.

We entered the pasture and followed the cow trail into the trees and started to descend into the canyon. It had rained the night before and the very steep trail turned greasey and then boggy. Our fresh horses -- all twenty some of them -- were rushing the trails to the bottom. We all made it down safely. But from there, we weren't sure where to go. There was another trail that took us up. And it went up and up and up. It was the old ski slope! We reached the top finally! But then found there was no way out except back the way we came in. After much folly, we ended up opening a gate and riding back to the ranch down the side of the highway. Not the ride we all envisioned! My friends "gifted" me with the following poem:

"Flatlanders Lament"

by Deb, Sheila, Jan, Kristie & other cohorts!

At Big Canyon this we found

We do not like steep ups & downs

We do not like them here nor there

We do not like them anywhere
Tammy said "Sure, it's flat"

But now we know it sure ain't that!

We do not like slick mud of brown

We do not like those sucking sounds.

The horses huffed, the horses puffed.

And then we said "We've had enough!"

At last the red gate did appear

We said "Anythings better than here!"

Highway riding can be fun

When you know you're almost done.

Big Canyon is an awesome place

And yet we leave

With a smile on our face!

There are stories of the trail shared among the riders. Laughter and smiles and some "oh &#!^" moments were relived around the campfire. A few days of bonding between casual friends who got to know each other a little better. Now with common memories. And once again, our horses took us places we could never go. They never let us down.

Big Canyon Inn is owned by Edith & Roger Wentworth. They were gracious, horse friendly hosts. For information about camping and trail riding at Big Canyon, please contact them at:

Big Canyon Inn
HC 82 Box 107
Springview, Nebraska 68778
United States
402-497-3170 or 800-437-6023

Jo Schaaf is also available to provide tours to your group. You can email me for her information.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Sunday Stills Challenge

This week's challenge was "tri-color". The explanation was "simply the more colors in the shot the better. It would be pretty simple to shoot a landscape and have a bunch of different colors, but look beyond the ordinary, use some composition and creativity and get some unusual colors. Take a moment and set up the shot, use knick knacks, muliple types of flowers, just about anything your imagination can come up with. Just remember the more colors the better."

I took the picture of the wind sock with the challenge in mind but was worried it was too "landscapey". While on the trail at Big Canyon, I saw a lot of wild flowers that could fit the criteria, but when riding with 30-some people, its hard to get everyone to "hold their horses" for my photo op!

As I glanced through other challengers beautiful work, I decided not to hold back. I'll use the wind sock & the picture of one of my riding friends from this past weekend - unposed - just captured in the right light and a foal with it's dam -- the gorgeous blue sky above.

CTR - Chapter 4 Finale

Me, Annette, Jess, Robyn

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

After the muddy hill from hell, I waited for Jessica to ascend from the same fate. Her eyes were big. She looked at me and as serious as a heart attack said “Tammy, I wanted to cry!” Jessica is younger than me (quite a BIT younger, I learned) and I look at her as one brave cowgirl. I figured if Jess was scared, it must have been really bad and we lived through it! As twisted as it seems, this brought about some newfound confidence for me and off we went.

The rest of the day was a blur. Fast riding, adventure, one wrong turn, and did I mention the mud? We splattered ourselves, we splattered each other and the points on the prettiest bay horse turned gray. But we didn't stop. We crossed creeks, fields and weaved our way through the muddy trails. And when we went through our first P & R check (pulse & respiration), our horses amazed us with their quick recoveries. After completing some 22 miles that first day (per the GPS), we were all smiles as we crossed the finish line.

Sandy, Annette, Jess

We stripped the tack from our horses and started the long task of mud removal so we could again present our horses to the judge. I was pleased to find that Windy’s P & Rs were great. She had no sign of soreness nor edema and was sound. And her legs didn’t move as the vet placed the stethoscope in the area that was so worrisome the night before. All of us newbies were given the green light to compete the following day.

Sandy, our mentor, didn’t fair so well. Her horse, Whiskey, was sore. The vet would recheck him in the morning, but Sandy knew in her heart she wouldn’t put him back on the trail. We would be flying solo on Sunday.

Robyn

The CTR people are a helpful bunch. Hearing of our dilemma, Shari Parys, offered to mentor us through the next day. Although we wanted so bad to take her up on her offer, we didn’t want the stress of mentoring us to take away from her competition. We thanked her and reluctantly declined. The four of us were on our own and come hill or high water, we were going to complete this journey!

We divvied up duties and with Annette and Bella in the lead, we were off! Our plan worked for the most part and we varied the tasks as needed. We all got an opportunity to lead. It was such fun to lead the group at a fast trot through the forest. Sometimes I was in the middle and even brought up the rear. The horses weren’t as high as the previous day, but were consistent throughout the ride. We attempted the obstacles albeit not necessarily pretty. Our P & Rs were as good as the day before. According to our GPS, over 2 days, we rode almost 40 miles in around 12 hours. We crossed the finish line a few minutes past optima time, well within the time limit. High fives all around! Sandy greeted us with hugs.

Windy after final vet check

After presenting our horse to the judge for the last time, we packed up our trailers to prepare for the trip home as the judges tallied the score cards. We joined the veteran riders - the best of the best - for the awards ceremony. We were most anxious to see our scorecards. It was a long two days and we longed for feedback. But nothing written on those cards would change the way we felt about each other and our camaraderie, our horses and their spirit or ourselves. The scorecard could not begin to capture what an incredible two days we had just experienced!

I’ve probably mentioned on this blog before that I am not real competitive. I’ve never been into sports and didn’t really care if I was the last chosen for dodge ball. I’ve felt the same with horse things. Although I’ll enter speed events and challenges at game days, it’s for my own personal accomplishment, not the win. Completion is where I get my satisfaction. Windy, the prettiest bay horse, my dream horse, gave me the ride of my life this past weekend in more ways than one! I couldn’t have loved her more. Imagine my surprise when her name was announced as the 6th place winner in our class of fifteen! You could have knocked me over with a stick.

Windy & I with her "award certificate"

I was not alone in bringing home the glory. Annette’s Bella Paint was the 5th place winner in our class and Robyn took 5th in horsemanship! A slight change in strategy and Jess or Cutter may have been in the placing, too. Jess was truly our rock from the get go! Not bad for a bunch of beginners! A special thanks and congratulations to our mentors and friends, Shari, Robin, Dave and Brenda, who were also in the ribbons! And for Sandy for showing us the way that first muddy morning!

CTR - Chapter 3

Chapter 1
Chapter 2

When competing in a Competitive Trail Ride, both my horse and I start with 100 points. The goal is to keep as many points as possible. I was judged on my horsemanship, which includes grooming and in-hand presentation, trail equitation and trail safety and courtesy. A horsemanship judge will observe the riders throughout the event. From check-in to on the trail to my campsite through checkout. I'll be under their watchful eye, grasping on to my allotted points!

On the other hand, a vet will judge my horse on her trail ability, manners, soundness and overall condition. Don’t be checking in any dirty horse! In my case, I figured a clean horse was all I had going for me, but the dang mud made even that job a challenge! Since winter, I have over 80 hours on Windy, close to a 100 miles and arena time prior to the ride. In addition, she spent 30 days at Brenda’s for a spring tune-up. I knew she was in good shape, but still, this was a long ride with pretty poor trail conditions. She would need to work.

At the ride meeting, we were told it rained 5 inches in a little over 2 hours. The ride would be delayed in the morning until ride management could get out to see if any of the trails needed diverted due to flooding. We saddled early and were soon informed there were no changes and we would ride out at 0800!

Sandy Ries, a friend and veteran CTRer, was our mentor and we followed her out somewhere in the middle of the CP/Novice riders. Windy was fresh, a little heady and light in the front when I tried to hold her back. I gave her her head and off we went. Just when I thought I might be able to breath, we encountered a volunteer on the trail. She told each rider in front of me to wait 10 seconds while the rider in front of them went into the trees, following a muddy trail. Soon it was Annette’s turn and she rode out of my sight.



“Wait for me, Annette,” I hollered in vain. The volunteer told me she wasn’t allowed to. The rider in front must continue on. She then told me to proceed into the forest of hell.

In real life, I have this little thing… if I get scared or feel my horse is out of my control, I get off. Pretty simple, really. Work through it on the ground or walk with my horse. But this was obviously not an option. I could turn around and go back. Take the walk of shame to the trailer, but I’d come this far. Not an option either. Or, I could move my mare on down the trail like the riders in front of me did. I didn’t hear any screams. Surely they survived.

As I approached the muddy downhill trail, my heart was in my throat. I wanted to close my eyes. In my mind, I pictured Windy on her hind legs, rearing as she approached the trail. But common sense would tell me she is going to be into self-preservation mode as much as I am and will hopefully agree that the descent will require use of all four of her legs. It’s not my first rodeo, for Pete’s sake. Buck up! I am pretty sure my eyes were open as we slid down the hill because when we reached the bottom, I looked up and saw several people standing on the hill above us. The conversation in my head now went something like this:

“Oh [crap], I’m being judged.”
“Don’t let her run them over.”
“Keep her straight.”
“I should grab the mane but can’t let go of the reins.”
"Pleeeeasssse don’t run over the judge.”
“Bet she remembers she about kicked!"
"Don't fall off now."
“Where’s Annette?”

My scorecard reads:
“Needs to be lighter in the saddle. Put weigh in heels and bring shoulders up.”

Shoulders up? Hell, I don’t know where my shoulders were. Driving the reins, I guess. Trying to keep my mare from taking out the secretary! Survival was worth the loss of one point.

(To Be Continued)

Chapter 4 - The Finale

CTR - Chapter 2

CTR - Chapter 1

The worst of the storm hit between Rock Port and St. Joseph. By the time we fueled up and got back on the road, the rain had stopped. The sky still looked pretty ominous as we pulled into Smithville Lake.

The campground was beautiful. There are ninety sites for horse camping. No power, but water hydrants were plentiful. I felt guilty unloading Windy on such nice grass, knowing after stabling her on it for a few days, it would not be so pristine. The plan was to set up camp and then check in. But once again, the skies opened up. When I heard hail starting to hit the trailer, I put Windy back in the trailer and took refuge in the living quarters. The other girls stopped over and we had some snacks and drinks as we waited out the storm. We waited and waited and waited.


Once we got a break in the weather, we finally checked in. When it was our turn, Windy and I approached the vet judge. I was careful to have my rope held as Shari showed me, not looped, but folded nicely in my hand and stayed on the same side as the vet. “I wish all the horses stood this nice,” said the vet as she went through the check starting with Windy’s mouth. Of course, she spoke to soon. As she placed her stethoscope on Windy's stomach near her flank, her rear leg went up. Not a kick exactly, but more like a reaction to being “goosed”. I heard collective gasps from the secretary’s table and those standing around us. The Prettiest Bay Horse just lost her first point. (To Be Continued...)

Chapter 3

Chapter 4 - The Finale

CTR - Chapter 1

I pulled into our driveway about 9:30 last night. I was weary from driving. My body felt tired; but it was a "good" tired. I unloaded "the prettiest bay horse in the world" and lead her into the corral. Ginger approached her first and as they often do after Windy has been away, they put their faces together for a few moments. I closed the gate and made my way back to the house still thinking about the weekend. How often do you get to spend three days with your friends and your horse at a beautiful park and do just what you love to do? Ride. And ride we did.

I did my first (and last) Competitive Trail Ride at Indian Cave in 2004 on Windy's dam, Ginger. She was pinch hitting for my gelding who came back from vacation that year with a sore back. My experience with Ginger up to this point wasn't good. She was John's horse, not mine. A bit like a little red sports car. Fast and quick. Not easy to "drive" and not real forgiving if you push the wrong buttons. And truth be known, she scared the beejeezus out of me! But she was also the only one in our herd who I knew could do the distance easily and I wanted to do it bad enough. Many times over the years, I have thought about throwing out those first scorecards. Egad! It was very humbling. My only consolation was that Ginger did worse than me! She wouldn't stand for the vet, she wouldn't let the vet touch her mouth. And obviously I didn't know how to press her "reverse" button because even the simplest obstacle, like backing through some ribbons, she refused. After that ride, I said "never again."


What changed my mind? Windy. She has been my partner for going on five years. I've learned a lot from this mare -- most notably that mediocre is not good enough. That I must become a better leader or she will jockey for that position every time. And while we continue to grow as a team, we both have tons to learn. This competition would be a good way to identify some of the things we need to specifically work on. In the last year, we logged 300 hours of trail time, probably riding over 1,000 miles. She is in great shape and well conditioned. And Ginger set the bar pretty low!

When I first saw the James Gang Rideout on the CTR calendar, I looked at a map. Smithville, Missouri is relatively close. An easy drive. A nice time of year. But this time I didn't want to do it alone. I needed a little help from my friends. Not just moral support, but their butts in the saddle next to me! And almost from the moment I suggested the ride, Annette, Jess and Robyn were on board! And with a great support group of veteran CTR friends, we had as much fun planning and prepping as we did riding. Well, almost as much fun....

It was cloudy when we left Nebraska driving into darker skies to the south. No sooner did we hit I-29, then the thunderstorm came rolling in. The Big Fat Lying Weatherman is never wrong when predicting the bad stuff.... (to be continued....)

Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4 - The Finale

CTR Weekend

It seemed like a good idea at the time… You know… when you are sitting around in late winter/early spring – horse deprived – just looking for opportunities to get out and ride. When I saw there was a Competitive Trail Ride relatively close (within 3 hours of here) in early spring, I was mildly interested. Then thought about Windy being at the trainer's in March and early April and knew she would be legged up… As I said – it sounded like a good idea at the time.

I didn’t factor in that busy weekend before – the annual Friday Before Mother’s Day Ride. And following that, the trail challenge clinic I'd signed up for (another good idea at the time). Followed by the real Mother’s Day, my boys’ year end school activities and then there is that pesky job… Did I really think I had time to not only continue to condition my horse, but to actually get away for a weekend? Well, the weekend is almost here and with a little help from my friends, it’s all a go! I am meeting Robyn and Annette at Jess’s house at o’dark hundred tomorrow morning and we will convoy to our ride at Smithville, MO.

TL: Annette, BL: Me, Middle: Robyn, Right: Jess

We are all CTR newbies. I rode in a competition once a few years ago on Windy’s dam, Ginger. Still a memory I am trying to forget… I guess I’m a glutton for punishment to want to do it again. But this is Windy and my 5th year on the trail and this is just another item to cross off the “bucket list” of our journey together. And despite my joking, she is in great shape right now and I think can handle the distance with ease. It's me I wonder about!

Today is the easy part: loading the truck and trailer. Not unlike any of our normal horse camping weekends. Tomorrow, we will pull into the ride camp at about noon. And the real fun begins! Stay tuned!

Horse Weekend - Part 1

The Friday Before Mother's Day Ride

It’s been an all horse weekend! Actually, the weekend started on Thursday night when some of my horse friends pulled in to our yard on the eve of the Friday Before Mother’s Day Ride for our own “trailergate” party! These being the same friends whom I am traveling to a competitive trail ride with next weekend, it gave us an opportunity to chat about the CTR and finalize our travel plans. Our driveway turned into a makeshift camp ground/slumber party; our corrals into a temporary stable! A new tradition was started, no doubt.


We were up bright and early to fold up camp and get to the trail head in Valparaiso and it wasn’t long before the trailers started rolling into town. I recognized many riders whom I only see during this ride, lots of my regular riding buddies, the safety riders and my Horsetales friends -- two of which, Marie and Pam, had three generations of women from their families riding this year’s ride! How special is that! The sun was shining and there was a nice breeze. The weather gods were with us!

This year I was joined by fellow blogger, Valerie of Fantastyk Voyager and her daughter, Sheila! They traveled with their mother/grandmother from New Mexico to join us on the ride and I was truly thrilled they made the trip. I set them up on Ginger and Blue hoping my steady eddies would come through for me. They were a little fresh and forward, but I was glad to see that both Valerie and Sheila were good hands and were able to handle what these “spring horses” had to give. I enjoyed riding and visiting with them and hope they enjoyed the ride as much as I did having them here.

DJ, my safety rider, texted me shortly after the ride started. He counted 123 riders across the first bridge. There were at least 3 late comers plus my husband and his friend, who started at the other end of the trail, so all said, we had 128 riders. A new record! We also set a new record as far as pace – averaging around 4 mph the entire ride. What is usually a 5+ hour round trip was completed in a little over 4 hours.

Special thanks to my husband, John, the safety riders, my friends, Kathy, who rides lead each year, Sam, who organizes the caterer, Loretta for taking pictures and the Horsetales bunch for kicking in gifts for the golden horseshoe game and to everyone for enjoying this ride with me and my good mare. Next year is the 10th year ride. I can’t wait!

Loretta Asche of Asche Photography was along the trail and in Loma snapping some pictures. To view proofs and to order, visit Asche Photography . Enter site & click on Proofing at bottom middle of the page. Type in the Password - horse . And you will see the ride photos. Prices: 5x7 are 5.00. 8x10 are 8.00. 8 wallets are 10.00. If you have any problems or questions , you may contact Loretta Asche via email at aschephoto@windstream.net .

Nice Rides!

It’s been raining most of the weekend, but I won’t complain. We just finished a week of darn near perfect weather, riding over 30 miles. Plus, our neighbor planted our alfalfa on Thursday, so the moisture is coming at a good time.

The Bridge

Last weekend, I finally got John to make me a “bridge” for my arena. Nothing special, just a platform really, but it is made so you could put a log under it and have a little teeter totter action to up the ante a bit. We haven’t done that yet, but did have Windy, Butter and Ginger all try out the bridge. Most got it on the 2nd or 3rd attempt. Then we practiced whoa-ing on it and then backing off it. Pretty much a non-event for each of them. It’s just another toy to make arena riding more interesting for me.

Riding Ginger over the bridge

More Conditioning

John and I took Ginger and Windy out both Tuesday and Wednesday night. Rode a little longer and faster on Tuesday and kept a consistent slower pace on Wednesday. I’m 3 weeks away from the competitive trail ride and John is 4 weeks away from his “distance” ride. Since Case is planning to go with John, we need to start getting some time on Butterscotch, too. One of us will probably have to start ponying her if Case can’t ride with us.

Bader Park

On Friday, Sheila, Julie and I loaded up and headed to Bader Park near Chapman, Nebraska. At almost 300 acres, Bader Park offers swimming lakes, camping areas and many miles of trail through the meadows and along the Platte River. We met some friends from Lincoln and central Nebraska. Our timing was perfect and we were on the trail before 11:00 AM.

The first glimpse of wildlife we saw was a jack rabbit! I guess I didn’t realize we just don’t see many here in eastern Nebraska and was amazed at how big they are! We meandered around the mowed paths and then made our way out to the sandbars of the Platte River. The river was low, but by the looks of it, I think it must always be in this particular area. There were permanent duck blinds next to the water. Once in the water, there was a good, solid base. The water was clear and in some areas, we even saw some sort of water lily below the surface.

Julie Shurigar & Tiki at Bader Park

After lunch we took the trails around the lakes. Most of the trails were sandy, well marked and groomed. It was a very pretty ride. Once back at the trailers, a few of us went back to the meadows and let our horses open up a bit. Those on gaited horses did their thing and Jan and I, on our stock horses, moved into a nice lope along the grass trails. It was a nice way to end a good ride. The GPS showed we logged just shy of 10 miles.

Weather, company and a wedding kept me from riding this weekend, but having put some good miles on them this past week, I think they earned their down time. Have lots of activities this week, so will be stealing ride time until the weekend again!

Windy & I splashing in the river while Julie Baker watches

Opening Ride of the Season!

Although I like to think of myself as a year round rider, about December, things slow down and by the time the true winter months roll around, I am just stealing rides on nice days. Horse Expo in March is the unofficial kick off to ride season, but the opening ride of the Platte River Riders is our real start!

A few years ago on a beautiful summer evening, my friend Robyn and I went riding. I remember commenting that it was so nice to just load up one horse, saddle one horse and ride with a friend. Most of our rides are family rides, so I greatly appreciated that I did not have to saddle two more horses or worrying about how the kid's horses were behaving or wanting to backhand either kid off their horse for whining or fighting with their sibling or other nuisance activity! Whew! Did I say that out loud? (Don’t get excited, some of us frustrated mothers just coined that phrase when we hear kids whining on horseback. And truly, I have yet to see one child whisked off the side of his horse by his mother’s hand! Her eyes, maybe. But never her hand!) Anyway, I pondered how many other people, not just parents, but adults would like a night away to just ride with other adults, too. Perhaps they have never been on the trails or have no one to ride with if they were to trailer out?


So we decided we were going to start a “once a week” riding night during the riding season. We call ourselves the Platte River Riders just because. But we are not a club. No dues, no leader. I'd just post on the internet where we were riding & whoever wanted to join us, could. Only strict rules are – we must ride out on time and no kids. Wow! Many others must have felt the same way as we are heading into our 5th season and we now have 4 chapters of the Platte River Riders in different parts of our state.

So tonight is our first group ride of the season! It’s supposed to be close to 60 degrees and sunny! I am looking forward to seeing many who I haven’t seen since the last ride last season!

Although I'll often speak of the rides here as they are an active part of my summer riding, I do keep a separate blog site for the Platte River Riders. Visit us there for ride information! Come join us!

Winter Interrupted

Nebraska winter was interrupted this past week

with a couple of nice days

worthy of taking the day off from work

and riding with friends.
With hunting season finally over,

we were able to ride along the river.

Slabs of ice washed ashore littered the interior trails

causing quite a few “WTH” snorts from our equine friends.

The river was low enough
for us to ride on the sandbars.
Isn’t it every woman’s dream
to gallop across the beach?
The ride on Wednesday will have to sustain us
as February returned with a vengeance yesterday;
chilling temperatures
and several inches of snow.

“I could have been a better friend if I hadn’t trusted time. “ – Rod McKuen
In memory of my business colleague and friend, who left this world too soon.
Godspeed, DF

Weekend Wrap-up

I’ve been working on a blog tonight and never got it finished. It was long and needs pictures and it got too late to put it all together. So I’ll save it for another day. So here I am in bed, it’s 12:21 AM and sleep won’t come.

I had a wonderful weekend. Yes, it’s February in Nebraska but felt nothing like it as the temperatures hovered in the 50’s. I rode about six and half hours on the trails and finished off the weekend riding Windy bareback in the arena and field today. The “not so nice” weather is returning tomorrow.


The above picture is an aerial view of where we rode on Saturday. It’s Homestead Lake, located in Butler County, just about 12 miles from here. Not enough trails to warrant long distance travel to this fine lake, but definitely one us locals can enjoy.

I rode Blue on Saturday. Always wonder if today will be the day he decides he can't load in the two horse trailer anymore, but he didn't let me down. We have a little routine we have to go through to get there: 2 feet first & back out. 4 feet and back out. And then he'll go all the way! We hit two different trails and by the time we loaded for the trip home, he had to lunge a bit before he would "go all the way", but never more than a minute or so total load time. Can't beat it (or him) with a stick.

Riding Out of January

Really, there aren't many good things I can say about January in Nebraska. I’m trying hard and words won’t come. I guess the BEST thing about January in Nebraska is the LAST day of January in Nebraska! And this year we got a good one! We woke up to this sunrise and it welcomed in one of those rare, incredible 60 degree days! Forgetting all about -14 temperatures, frozen pipes, heavy coats and runny noses! It was time to ride!

We started tracking the weather almost a week ago. The Big Fat Lying Weatherman was hinting that the high could reach 48 degrees on Saturday. Heck, at this point, we would take anything over 30, so the Horsetales group started making plans to ride at Two Rivers. As the week progressed and the predictions remained the same, it looked like we were good to go.


I had planned to take Blue – haven’t had him out for awhile, but he is due to have his feet trimmed and they didn’t look the best. Since I just had Ginger and Windy at Chance Ridge the night before, I chose Butter for this ride. She darn near haltered and loaded herself! I think she was as ready as I was to get out and go! And pretty sure I saw pouts on the rest of the herd’s faces!

Sixteen riders met at Two Rivers for a ride scheduled at 12:30. The weather was so nice, most of us got out there a little early and were saddled and on by noon! The wildlife area is still closed to horses out of respect for the hunting seasons, but there is still enough park area to get a few hours of riding. Footing in the wildlife area would have probably been too poor anyway.


For as nice of a day as it was, the park was unusually quiet. Saw a few campers (oh, my – people really camp in Nebraska in January?) Heard the hunter’s gunfire in the distance. Startled up some deer who made a run for it around our group. Watered the horses where the ice had melted at the lake’s edge. We just couldn’t get enough of the day! Had a great 3.5 hour ride with friends!

Once home, I just wanted to savor the day. I unloaded Butter and fetched Windy. Saddled her up in an English saddle (just for the heck of it) and headed down the road. She felt good and eager to go. We rode until the sun was setting, my hands were chilled without my gloves. But what a wonderful end to a great day! My psyche is now refreshed! February, here we come!

(For more pictures from todays ride, visit Horsetrailriders.com.)

Re-Riding 2008

Before I start to think about goals for 2009, I like to reflect on where I have been the past year. Because I belong to both the AQHA’s ride program and the Nebraska Horse Trail Committee’s Trail Time, I keep a log of my ride time and glancing back, I’ve enjoyed the “re-ride”.

Riding with Sheila & Carol at Two Rivers (March 2008)

On New Year’s Day for the past seven years, 3V Stables of Ashland has hosted a game day celebration. We load up the horses and our contribution to the glutinous potluck offering and enjoy food, drinks, barrel racing and more with about 50 other riders. What a great way to kick off the ride year! Later in January, I went dashing through the snow with some friends at Two Rivers.

Kathy & Rich Newberg on the 1st Platte River Ride of the season (April 2008)

February is typically the month I get the least amount of ride time and last year was no exception. In early March, we did get back out to Two Rivers again. Then the snow came again right before the Nebraska Horse Expo. I don’t remember an Expo starting out quite so frigid. Following Expo, I took Windy to Brenda Messick of Messick Quarter Horses for some additional training. And it was like having a new horse for the Platte River Riders opening ride in early April.

Nadine Morton riding on the Friday Before Mother's Day Ride (May 2008)

Rain came close to canceling the Friday Before Mother’s Day Ride, but alas, it didn’t rain on our parade. Once again, over one hundred women (and a few good men) rode in the annual event. I enjoyed lots of day riding in May, gearing up and conditioning the herd for our June vacation to the Black Hills and Ft. Robinson, Nebraska.

McCain & Case Vasa at Deerfield Lake near Hill City, SD (June 2008)

Riding to Harney Peak, elevation 7,200 feet, was the most exciting and beautiful trail I have ever ridden. It took my breath away. We kept climbing higher and higher, each step revealing more and more of the beautiful Black Hills. Our flatlander horses carefully considered each step as they moved along this foreign trail. My sons, for the first time that I recall, enjoying the beauty of this ride as much as the ride itself. And despite the challenges vacations sometimes throw out, being with family and friends in this beautiful country literally makes you leave your troubles behind. Returning through historic Ft. Robinson and meeting up with the Horsetales group was the finishing touch to this fabulous horse trip.

Dianna Noonan at Cowgirl Weekend (Sept. 2008)

My family stayed a weekend at Camp Moses and another time, I did a mock competitive trail ride at Two Rivers. We ventured over to Brushy Creek in Iowa for the Labor Day holiday and a few weeks later was my annual Cowgirl Weekend, this year to Kanopolis Lake, Kansas. The cold weather came early to Nebraska and camping came to an abrupt end, although I managed to steal some day rides at every weather break we experienced.

The Black Colt & GinnyBelle, as youngsters

I rode twenty different trails this year, many more than once – others for the first time. I logged just over 300 hours on 10 different horses; riding close to 900 miles. I got bucked off once and had three “semi-controlled unplanned dismounts” (in other words, great saves!) I said goodbye to GinnyBelle, my young filly and will continue to watch her grow up with a friend. I fell in love with my mare all over again and pushed myself beyond my comfort zone, not only with her, but with my young gelding. And made the hard decision that I’ll never have the time to bring out the potential that colt has to offer and hope he’ll find as good of a home as Ginny.

Case & McCain Vasa at Brushy Creek, IA (Sept. 2008)

Regrettably, my husband and sons moved away from riding a little more this year. I expect I’ll lose the kids completely to other interests as they get older but by reducing my herd, I hope my husband will look beyond the work of the horses and appreciate the ride.

On this chilly winter day, the 2nd day of the year, I am already making plans for the new year. Jotting down the nearby trails I want to see for the first time or visit again. And I’ll venture on to the scale next week and see how much damage the holidays did to my jean size.

I want to wish you all a very Happy New Year. Thanks for sharing the trail with me!

And here is a sunrise

To set on your sill.

The ghosts of the dawn

Moving near.

They pass through your sorrow

And leave you quite still...

Sitting among souvenirs.

(~Dan Fogelberg)