Getting Her Groove Back

As you may recall, I dropped Windy off with her trainer, Brenda Messick, on Monday to begin her spring tune-up. There were a few things specifically that I wanted Brenda to work on with her. First, being her lope. Simply put: she can be quite lazy and strung out. Now with all due respect to my horse, it’s kind of like disciplining a kid: once I let her get away with it, she gets a little attitude when I ask her to comply. So boot camp helps me to help her.

I also asked Brenda to work on her sidepass. I don’t know if it is my ask or her give, but we have a hard time keeping the back end moving with the front end. She also hasn’t had the best manners at the mounting block lately, so Brenda should keep that in mind while working with her as well.

As riders, we have all heard the saying “you are always training whenever you are riding.” I consider it more that I am applying what I know when riding my horse. I don’t know what I don’t know; and some of the stuff I do know, I have difficulty applying – so let’s just say some of us still need trainers. While I can say I ride a lot, my “training” is limited to what I know AND what I feel comfortable doing. There are some thresholds I am nervous about pushing her through and that is where Brenda fills the gaps.

I thought it would be fun to show you the pictures from her session yesterday. They speak for themselves about her progress under Brenda's program.

I love how collected she is in all of these pictures. And in the close-ups, you can tell that Windy is really concentrating on doing what is asked of her. You could see her ears flicking to Brenda's voice; listening for her cues.

And the best for last....

The video: By keeping her collected, you can see her really working her hindquarters. I just loved watching her movements. She looks like more than "just a trail horse" here! This, after just 5 days! Imagine if I put her in training for 90 days! Ah, but I'd miss her too much. When I rode her later that day, the feel of her under me was incredible. I hope I am able to do her justice when she comes home. She'll stay with Brenda for another week. I'm looking forward to my next session with her as well.

Just What I Needed

The Nebraska Horse Expo is just a week away and there are still some loose ends to finish up for Expo and for work. I just hope I don't call one of our partner companies and identify myself with "horse expo" rather than my employer's name. The phone has been ringing so much lately on both accounts.

It's been a weird weather week. One day, cold and damp, and the next will find the temps creeping up to almost 60. I took off on one of those days. Had some Expo errands to run and then stopped at the DMV to license the new commuter car. By the time I got home, the wind had picked up and temperatures plummeted. I rode bareback in the arena for a little while, but it certainly wasn't what I envisioned earlier that day.

Today was another taste of spring and no wind! I went out to the corral to fetch Windy. Baby, our draft horse, walked toward me and then stopped in my way. I was going to move around her and then thought to myself "when was the last time I rode her?" I am guessing the summer before last? What the heck. She dropped her big head and neck as I slipped on the halter.

I tied her off while I got the tack. We don't have a draft horse saddle, but I use an Abetta with a fiberglass tree. It seems to be wide enough with a light pad. A few years ago McCain bought me a nylon headstall – lime green – for Windy. He didn't know it was draft horse size, so it became Baby's bridle. So with her lime green headstall and purple and blue nylon saddle, she certainly wasn't making a fashion statement but she did look dressed up enough to do the job.

I took her in the arena and unclipped the lead from the halter. Baby isn't particularly a tall horse; standing just under 16hh. But she is big and could be powerful, if she weren't overweight. So I wanted to take a little of the fresh off her before I got on. I clucked and started her free lunging; literally taking the buck out of her.

After about 5 minutes, I climbed aboard. I didn't have a mounting block, it was a big stretch, but she stood like a gentle giant. The stirrups were a tad short, but I wasn't getting down and doing that again, so we got by. I kissed her into a walk on the rail and she dropped her head and nicely collected herself. After a few laps, we moved into a pretty little trot.

She doesn't neck rein, so at first, any time I was turning her, it'd be with a plow rein. I started applying a little outside leg with the rein, occasionally touching her with my spur. Finally, by the end of the ride, she was moving as decent as can be expected, off my leg.

I didn't overdo it. She was working up a good sweat just the little bit we worked. But it was good for her and good for me to give her a little time every now and then. The ride was different than I expected to do today, but just what I needed in its own way.

(Jenn (at AK Pony Girl), I thought of you and The Mare today. She reminds me so much of my Baby.)

Life on the Farm

Having missed the arctic blast, I arrived home to a chilly, but fair, 22 degrees. The only casualty from this last weather assault was the death of our rooster. Since he made it through the winter of hell (2010), I can only surmise that he meet his demise by hoof, not climate – most likely that of Butter, who I saw go after him on more than one occasion. I can’t say I blame Butter, if she was truly the perp, as he was a mean rooster. He had become a somewhat infamous barnyard icon around here making his mark on more than one of my kids’, their friends’ or cousins’ legs. He will be missed, for no other reason than we were so used to walking softly around him to avoid an unprovoked attack.

And for those who wonder if perhaps Bo finally got his rooster? He’s got an alibi. It happened overnight when Bo was tucked warmly in the house.

Ritz has become such a pest when I am grooming or saddling the horses, his impatience showing by circling my work area, trying to herd me along. So yesterday, when I tied Windy up to saddle, I also put a lead rope on Ritz and tied him to a post. I ignored his crying while I took no more than 5 minutes to quickly brush the grime off Windy and toss on her saddle. When I turned my attention back to Ritz, I noticed him wrapped in the lead rope with it in his mouth. “Cute,” I thought, as I pulled out my Blackberry to snap a picture of him. Before I could put the camera away, Ritz had gnawed through that lead rope and was free. I guess he showed me. Ah-ha! We’ll see how well he works a chain next time! Brat dog!

It was nearing 45 degrees and the big thaw was on. I picked out some dry spots in the pasture, driveway and arena to ride, but quickly bored of the mud and the muck and a somewhat feisty mare. When I came in to grab a bite to eat, I had an email from a friend, Mary, who was riding at her place not far from me and asked if I wanted to join her. She didn’t have to ask twice. I hooked up my trailer, loaded my horse and drove the short 20 miles to meet her at her home.

Mary’s rides and drives Morgan horses and has a good eye for horse flesh. She had her gelding, Duke, tied to the hitching post when we arrived. He is coming off an injury from last season and she is slowly trying to get more time on him now that he is sound. I saddled and we headed over the the CRP land across the road, blasting through some pretty deep snow drifts. When we got back onto the road, I noticed Duke had a cut on his foot, so we took him back and she quickly saddled her mare, Sarah, and we rode off once again.

This time we rode through the cornfields, the dirt (muddy) roads and up an old railroad bed. The wind was getting stronger, but the sun felt good on both our backs and for our disposition. My mare had settled down and I got the good ride I was looking for. We looped our way back through her nearly unincorporated home town, riding down its main street. We rode just shy of two hours, beating the sunset by only a half an hour or so.

I have decided I am going to send Windy over to my trainer, Brenda Messick, for a few weeks this spring. There are some things I would like fine tuned with her that I know Brenda can help with. It’s always fun to have someone else work with your horse, especially when they come back better as a result of such training.

Missing

It's been a week of back to back events that leave little time at home. Go to work, go to a basketball game. Go work work, go to a school concert. Go to work, go to a basketball game. I swear the schools try to kill the parents the last week before Christmas. And for good measure, the Big Fat Lying Weatherman throws in an ice storm just to keep things interesting.

We came home last night, after the last basketball game of the season, and I noticed tracks on the icy/snowy driveway. I commented to Case that I hoped those were dog tracks, but stopped and opened the door to the Durango and looked closer. Granted, the ground is hard ice, but I was pretty sure I was looking at horse tracks. Damn!

I ran into the house and changed shoes and headed to the barn. The gate to the corral was closed, which was a good sign, but there wasn't a horse to meet me, which was unusual. I walked toward the barn, praying they were huddled inside, but it was quiet. I turned on the light to find the barn empty.

Case and I jumped back in the Durango. After the last escape, I keep a couple halters and leads in the back. We followed the tracks out of the drive and across the gravel road. They appeared to have gone into the cornfield or the alfalfa field – it was hard to see in the dark and with the corn stubble and alfalfa, it was anyone's guess. John started driving the perimeter of the corn field and me, the alfalfa field. John called and had picked up their tracks in the cornfield, so I headed that direction, too. In the meantime, I called the sheriff to see if anyone reported seeing any horses. "No," he said. And told me he would make note of it in case anyone called.

It was so dark. John went north; I went west until I came to a fence line. As I followed it around, I saw what appeared to be a figure in the middle of the field. Yes, there they were. I didn't want to spook them and have them run toward the road & ultimately toward the highway, so I tried to stay in front of them. I stopped a distance away and started to talk to them through the window, calling them by name. Initially, they trotted away and we followed, keeping a safe distance. I then got out and walked toward them, continuing to talk to them. I reached Blue first and attempted to slip on the halter.

When I put halter and leads in the trunk of the Durango, I grabbed older ones that I didn't use much. Crap. I must not have checked for size because no way, no how was this one going on Blue's big head. Ginger had worked her way up and she can be skittish about being caught, but I had to get one of the herd bosses, Blue or Ginger, to get the rest to follow. Luckily, Ginger waited while I put my arm over her neck and slipped the halter on.

We started to make our way back across the field; I was leading Ginger, the herd following and Case behind the herd in the Durango, the headlights helping me to see a little better. The snow and ice on the ground helped, too, but the field was rough. It wasn't easy going. Then, something spooked the herd. They started to rush past me. It took a moment for me to realize what I was hearing with the sound of the ice and the cornstalks and I didn't have time to react. Ginger pulled from my grasp. When I tried to pull her in, I slipped on the ice and went down hard on my back. I heard horse hooves near me and then they were gone.

I slowly got up and looked for my shoe – somehow it had slipped off in the struggle. Man, did I hurt. I heard every vertebra in my neck pop upwards and felt the familiar tinge of pain in the tailbone, an old injury that had finally stopped hurting last spring. I slowly got up, caught my breath and Case pulled up next to me in the Durango and I got in. The horses had run into the night toward the road. I called John and gave him the new destination and prayed they went to the next field and not toward the highway. I was relieved to find them in the cornfield across the road.

I told John that Ginger still had a halter and lead on; I grabbed the other one and started walking toward them. I had Butter's attention and she met me halfway. I easily slipped the halter on her and John caught up with Ginger. The other horses fell in behind and we started the slow procession back to the corral.

I never worry too much when they are in the corral. It is pretty secure with the high panels interlocked and then each wrapped with wire. But, evidently not secure enough for a panicked draft horse. We surmise she was scratching her hind end on the panels and her tail became tangled in the wire. She must have freaked and in her struggle to free herself, brought down the panel. We found a big strand of her tail hair hanging on the panel.

As much as I damn the snow and ice, in this case, it was in my favor. Had I not seen the tracks, I wouldn't have realized the horses were out until daylight today. They probably would have stayed in that cornfield but you never know. I'm glad I didn't have to find out.

Time Out!

Windy had to take the horsy equivalent of a time out today: visit The Round Pen. I keep a diary of sorts of my rides and about a year ago I had posted this: "Windy was wired, so didn't take her out on the road." Today was much of the same, and I can't say I didn't see it coming. She's been a bit disrespectful lately and I've been a push-over. Today it started with her choosing not to stand still while I saddled, not to stand still when I mounted, and scooting under me like the devil had her tail more than once before we even got to the end of the driveway. I had had enough already! I dismounted and we took the walk of shame to the round pen and I promptly put her to work.

After about 20 minutes, she stood like a soldier while I mounted once again and rode over to the arena for some circles and other riding exercises. Then we ended the day with the ride I had hoped for, albeit a bit shorter than planned. I found today's GPS tracks quite interesting as I had the GPS hooked to the saddle horn. The red smudges to the left of the red "balloon" is the round pen & the big red smudge to the southeast of the red balloon is the arena.

Maybe the next time I am struggling with deviant kids, I should take them to the round pen with a dressage whip.

(Did I say that out loud?) J

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Kathleen, of Kathleen's Wild Ride, is still in Hastings. She has a ride to North Platte tomorrow, but no place to lay over or a ride out of North Platte. If you can help her, visit her Facebook page.

Jurassic Park

Lions and tigers and…. dinosaurs? Oh, my! We came across this bag of bones on the trail yesterday and I swore it was a raptor from Jurassic Park! But no, just a dead deer lying in the middle of the trail. The horses weren't real keen about going around it. A lot of snorting and some big ears before they finally concluded it was harmless.

We stole another day from winter yesterday. Highs were in the low fifties and surprisingly, no wind. I met Robyn and Sam at Camp Moses. My heart sank a bit when I went to register at the visitor's center and the sign said "Horse Trails Closed Today" implying wet trails. We hadn't had any rain or snow lately, so I was surprised. I called the park manager and said he was worried that there could be ice under the leaves. Since I know the trails so well, he agreed to let us go ahead and ride at our own risk and just asked that we stay away from the steep trails. I was so thankful he agreed to let us ride there. Not that we wouldn't have found somewhere else we could go to ride, but we wanted to ride Camp Moses.

Before we rode out, we had plugged in a crock pot at the campsite. After about a 3-1/2 hour ride, we came back to the trail head for a mini-feast. Who would have thought we would be sitting at a picnic table, outside in Nebraska on November 27^th? It just doesn't get any better than this. The weather today calls for more temps in the fifties, but the wind has returned, so it won't be that pleasant.

Riding My Trail

We are experiencing another week of mild temperatures, so I took Monday off to ride. Well, originally I took it off because the kids were out of school, but turns out they had plans that didn't include their mom, so I had a free afternoon. Hmmm. Clean house or ride? Clean house or ride? Such a tough decision! I loaded up Windy shortly after lunch and headed over to Valparaiso to ride the Oak Creek Trail.

A former railroad bed, the Oak Creek Trail was converted by our NRD to a 12-mile hiking and biking trail. In early 2000, the Nebraska Horse Trails Committee was given the blessing by the NRD to clear the land running parallel to the limestone trail for an equestrian trail. John and I were new to horses and to trail riding and this was a good opportunity for us to meet other horse riders, so we joined the mission. Ten years later, I still consider those who lead the cause, Rich and Kathy, Mike, Mary and Dwight, Pattianne and Jamie and Vickie, very good friends and we have remained active with the NHTC.

There are so many places along that trail that hold special memories. There is a sign along the first mile that never fails to spook Blue. Hang on tight if you are loping him! And there is the huge cottonwood tree. Although the picture above is blurry, I am glad I saved it. I am not sure if I am in awe more over the enormity of that tree or at how small Case was at that time!

It was not only a group activity but a family project. The kids got in there and helped move logs and branches. They would tire after awhile and go exploring. There is one trail I call "Dead Deer Trail" because that is what they found. They also found rail road spikes, deer sheds and other treasures along the way.

About midway to Loma, we call it the Long Mile; that portion of the trail runs diagonally between the two county roads. And it is the prettiest section of the trail and my favorite. In the spring and summer, the leaves form a canopy above us and in the fall, you experience their brilliant colors before they fall along the trail.

My favorite trail leads up to the "dreaded culvert." When clearing the trail, we didn't think anything of continuing the trail up and over the right hand side of the culvert shown above. However, it is the area of most concern on the Friday Before Mother's Day Ride, so I always flag it so the riders know it is coming and can detour around it if they feel it is necessary.

After about six miles, the trail goes through a dirt road town called Loma. To those who are movie buffs, the Patrick Swayze movie To Wong Foo Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar was filmed in Loma in the mid 1990's. In the movie, the town was called Snyderville and you can still see evidence on one of the old buildings in Loma. The trail continues on another 4 or so miles into the town of Brainard. That stretch is pretty open, winding through cornfields and soybean fields.

Clearing the trail was a labor of love; the trees, the bridges, the views.... the memories. I never tire of riding it. I know it as well as I know the pastures and gravel roads around our place. I am always overwelmed with pride as I meander along the paths that we made and feel a sense of ownership toward it. Riding the trail alone this day, just me and my horse, it was a coming-home sort of feeling. It will always be "my trail."

Stealing Time

It has been a perfect October in Nebraska. If we were asked what October should be, this is it. Clear, sunny skies and mild temperatures; a perfect harvest from what I hear the farmers say. Oh, we had a few days that were windier than anyone liked, but when you are stuck at work, that’s not a bad thing. The weekends have been kind to us. Every day we get like this is stealing time from winter. And after last year, that bit of thievery is just what we need.

Last weekend, I trailered out a couple times. The first day I took Blue. Oh, my! I think he has put on one hundred pounds since I was riding him in August. He must be getting ready for winter. He was a good boy and Kathy, Julie and I had a nice time on our geldings. The trees lent themselves to some great photo ops, and no, that’s not a dead tree, but some sort of deciduous pine. It sheds its leaves in the winter unlike most other pine trees. I love Kathy’s laugh in this picture. It’s reminiscent of the entire day; lots of smiles, laughter and friendship. Julie and I rode again a few days later. Another eight miles down and back on the Rescue Road.

This past Friday, I met Mary and Sheila at Two Rivers. Sheila was anxious to try out her new English saddle. So in keeping with the theme of the day, I saddled up Windy in my black dressage saddle. None of us remembered to throw in cameras, but did get a crappy cell phone picture. I could spend a lot of time critiquing my riding form from this one picture. Ultimately, I hope it was just a bad shot and I really don’t ride as bad as I look just posing for a picture. We rode for a few hours through the public sections of the park; the wildlife area closed through January for hunting. Despite the lack of leather between myself and my horse, I managed to stay on top.

As much as I wanted to trailer out yesterday, there were more chores to do around here. We had no time to prepare for winter last year, so we have to take a little time now. Last weekend we worked on cleaning the corrals and getting the fences ready when we finally have to bring them in from the pasture. Yesterday we loaded the truck with debris to take to the dump. When John and Case went in to watch the Husker game, I stayed outside for some horse time.

I pulled Butter from the pasture. She has only been ridden on a couple of occasions since we went to Wyoming in July, so she was due. The bad thing about Butter is she is terribly buddy sour. I hoped for a short ride in the pasture, but after I let her run off some steam in the round pen, I thought better of that. Instead, I saddled Ginger and ponied Butter. It went pretty well and I even managed to ride out a pretty big spook by both horses when we flushed up some deer in a neighboring treeline. It's funny how fast your mind works. I truly thought I was a goner and was hoping for a soft landing. I was very glad I wasn’t riding in the English saddle for that little incident.

Case and I went to town last night and saw the movie Secretariat. I had read a lot of online reviews; most saying it was a good movie but that astute horse people could find flaws. I decided not to look for any and to enjoy the movie for what it was and I did.

We Finished!

I awoke again without the alarm. As I climbed out of the bunk, Windy nickered. With this new trailer, she ties real close to the door to the living quarters and knows when I'm moving around. I tossed her some hay and started my coffee. Trot out was at 7:00 AM. Shari and I wanted to have a little time prior to that to warm our horses up. It was still dark as we rode away from our trailers.

I was pleased to find I still had a lot of horse under me. Windy was moving quickly and without effort down the trail. Before long we came to the first obstacle. There was a line, so we assumed this one would be a bit more difficult. She snacked as we waiting our turn.

Once in front of the judges, we were asked to back our horse between two trees and once there, sidepass to the left to exit. How many times have we practiced backing through trees? Believe it or not, lots. It is one of those CTR obstacles you hear about, so it is one of those things we try for fun when pleasure riding.

I lined Windy up in front of the trees. Before I could cue her, she reached above us and took a mouthful of leaves from the tree. I decided to show patience to the horsemanship judge. I let her tear the leaves off the branch and begin to chew and then cued her for a back. She jerked her head out of my hands and reached up for a second bite. She was getting pissy! There was some name calling going on in my mind, but rather than voice my dissatisfaction, I moved her out from under that branch, repositioned her and asked again. She went a little light in the front before her hind-end kicked in and she backed. I cued her to sidepass and she must have done that okay because my scorecard had a "good" following the sidepass, but we lost a point for the back. (Big sigh.)

Shortly after the "thigh master" hill, we had to stop for a pulse and respiration check (P & R). Once dismounted, volunteers come to your horse and record their vitals. You then wait ten minutes and the horse is rechecked. It is that recheck number that you want to be in the acceptable range. Only once throughout the weekend was I concerned and it worked out okay. This time we had just climbed the highest bluff in the park and I hoped she would recover easily from it and was thrilled when she did.

We continued on to the horsemanship judge. He asked me if I had a knife in my saddle bag and if I did, to cut his twine. I did. He then asked if I had a hoof pick on me. Yesterday I did. Today I did not. I have twenty two hoof picks in the trailer and not a one on my horse. He didn't ask to see it, but I cannot tell a lie… I lost a point there.

As we closed in on the fifth hour, we rode into camp and across the finish line. We went through the same routine as the day before; grooming and presenting our horses to the judge. Windy checked out once more all zeros and a three. I was ecstatic over having such a wonderful two days on my good mare and having her come in fit and sound made it even better. We took care of each other.

The score cards would be handed out after the awards ceremony and I was anxious to see it. I had one honeycrisp apple left and told Shari if I get a higher score than my horse, I get the apple and if Windy's score is higher, the apple is hers. In our three previous rides, Windy has scored higher than I did, so I figured if I didn't come in at 6^th place, I didn't place. I was shocked when they announced that I had placed 4^th. Now fourth may not be a big deal to all of you, but it is as good as being the winner in my book. I never did sports in school except the required tests. To think that I rode my horse for 11 hours and did it well enough to place, was over the top for me. If I never place again, I'll die happy with my fourth place honor. My friend, Shari, took 2nd place in her class.

After the horsemanship awards, they started through the classes once again to announce the horse placings. When Windy hadn't placed in 6^th, 5^th or even 4^th, like me, I figured her temper tantrum when trying to eat leaves during the obstacle had taken her out of the game. I would get the apple. When they announced the 2nd place horse was Windy, I about died. As a parent, we want for our kids so much – it's a given that we want for them more than ourselves. And the feeling I had for my horse at that point was not unlike that I have with my children; such pride. She did it. No, she didn't win. But she got SECOND PLACE! You'd think she had won the Kentucky Derby. I couldn't have been happier. The honeycrisp apple was hers.

The First Day Out

I was awake before the alarm went off and could hear the campground was coming to life. While taboo when camping while pleasure riding, generators started buzzing to provide lighting, coffee and other necessary comforts. My trailer is pretty self-contained and most everything I need runs off battery or propane. With that said, I started my propane burner to brew some coffee and threw Windy a few flakes of hay while I started to get dressed.

While at Cowgirl Weekend we had heaters going, this weekend was very mild. I had slept with the windows cracked in the trailer and put on regular breeches rather than fleece. I dressed in layers, slipping on a tank top, a long sleeved shirt and a sweat shirt to keep the morning chill away. I pulled out snacks for my saddle bag: a Special K bar and a couple Oven Ham Sammies I made special for the occasion as they pack very well in my pommel bag.

After saddling Windy and meeting up with Shari, we rode over to where the riders were being timed out. Diane, another Horsetales friend, met us on her Rocky Mountain mare and would ride out with us. Before long, our numbers were called and off we went with Diane in the lead. Windy felt great, albeit pushing it a little more than I would have liked, trying to close the gap between Diane and me. It was obvious the gaited horse was moving faster than my quarter horse and Diane disappeared down the trail. A couple other riders on gaited horses passed us, and before long, it was just Shari and I, followed by the safety riders.

We did a lot of trotting early that morning and were still struggling to beat the clock. And before long, we found ourselves at the first judged obstacle. It was simple, really. Ride your horse up the hill to the judge. Stop your horse and count to five and continue on down the trail. I rode up and whoa'd Windy. I counted. One, two, three, four…. And she tossed her head. Dang! So much for standing quietly. See? These easy obstacles aren't that easy after all! We were later asked to back uphill. Windy showed some resistance, but got the job done.

Later in the morning a couple other women joined us. One woman, Mary, was a seasoned CTR rider on a first time horse while Kelli was a first time CTR rider on a first time horse. Both horses were Arabians and both tucked in quietly behind us, sticking with the pace of our horses.

About two thirds of the way into the ride, we reached an intersection in the trail. The ribbons showed the trail going off to the left, so we went left. Before we got a hundred feet, someone riding up behind us yelled to us, "You are going the wrong way!" We stopped. We looked at our map. We looked at the ribbons. It's possible the ribbons are there for tomorrow's ride. The map is confusing. But Shari said the rider who warned us is not one who makes mistakes. We changed our course and were back on the right track. That wrong trail would have taken us 1.3 miles out of our way and over the dreaded hill known as the "thigh master."

We finished the ride just under six hours, traveling over 21 miles. Once back at camp, we had an hour to get our horse ready to show again to the judge. I mixed Windy up some wetted mash to keep her hydrated, freshened her water bucket and tossed her a flake of hay. As she ate, I filled a bucket with soapy water and starting with her legs, began to clean her up. I removed the saddle and gently sponged her back and neck. I brushed out her tail and braided her mane. My trail horse was now show quality and ready to present to the judge. She checked out with 5 zeros and a 3+. Close enough to perfect for me.

At the ride meeting that night, they told us to be ready to trot out for the judge at 7:00 AM or first light. Since we were starting a little earlier, I returned to the trailer to prepare for the next day. I packed the snacks into my pommel bag and put full water bottles on my saddle. I laid out the clothes I was going to wear the following day. Windy would occasionally stop eating and look up to see what I was doing, most likely to see if I would share any snacks. I put a light weight blanket on her and shut out the lights before 10:00. I fell asleep shortly after I hit the pillow.

(To be continued)

My Ride

I left for the Indian Cave Competitive Trail Ride last Friday morning. Doing a quick inventory of what I packed, I realized too late that I had forgotten my laptop and had too many miles behind me to warrant going back. I so wanted to post each night about the ride. It's now several days later and I find myself struggling to start this post. It's so much easier when it is fresh in my mind.

There were about forty riders competing. Since they place the first 6 in each class, I was hoping there would be at least 7 in my class. I like to have something to work for and not just a "gimme." There ended up being around 9 or 10 in my class; I'm not 100% as it kept changing right up until ride time.

Shari and I had a brief ride on Friday afternoon. The weather was spectacular and the fall colors inviting. We only climbed a few of the many hills along these trails, testing what kind of horse we had under us but not wanting to push them before the actual competition. Windy felt relaxed and ready; a good place to be. Back at camp, we groomed our horses to get them ready to present to the judge.

When showing to the judge at a CTR, I always have to make the difficult decision if I show with a whip or not. I can get much prettier lunging circles out of Windy when I use a carriage whip or carrot stick, but it is awkward for me to carry. I decided to pass on the whip. She stood nicely for the vet judge and when I circled her, she presented herself willingly, although her transitions from left to right were awful. Fortunately the horsemanship judge did not hold that against me. Her baseline was set at 5 zeros and a 3. The zeros represent her metabolic scores, (gut sounds, hydration, capillary refill, etc.) I was told at zeros they are where they should be. On a scale of 1 to 5, her willingness and attitude was a 3. If that number stayed the same or went up to a 4 or a 5 at the next vet presentation, that would be good. We just didn't want that number to go down.

At the ride meeting that night, we learned we would be riding 21.6 miles the first day. I believe minimum ride time was 5:25 hours with a 5:55 mid-point (don't quote me, I am running off memory here). There would be no lunch break. This concerned us for a few reasons and none had to do with our own stomachs. Mainly, it is October in Nebraska. The temps have been in the 60 – 70's and the horses now have their winter coats. The weekend temperatures were predicted to be in the mid to upper 80's, unseasonably warm. We felt the heat on our newly coated horses, in addition to the long hills on the trail, would be adding a lot of added stress to the horses and they could certainly use some down time mid ride, but in the end, it didn't matter. The horses did remarkably well, despite these conditions.

Shari and I strategized that night about our ride. We would start at the back of the pack. Trot the flats in the early morning so as the day got warmer, we wouldn't need to push them as much. Whichever horse leads out the best, would lead; we would switch as needed. The pace of our horses, Wiley and Windy, were pretty well matched. If another rider joined up with us, we would not change the pace of our ride to that horse.

The ride would begin at 7:30 AM the following morning.

(To be continued….)

Ready to Roll

The above picture was taken at the Indian Cave Competitive Trail Ride in 2004. (The child and husband are not mine, but my riding buddies for the day). It was the first CTR I entered and I didn't do another one until 2009. The horse I was riding in this picture wasn't mine either. Well, technically, she is John's. The gelding I was riding at this time in my life had a sore back from a previous trip, so I rode Ginger instead. It did not go well.

I had no intention of doing a Competitive Trail Ride this year; for no other reason than scheduling conflicts. After McCain decided not to play football this fall, I found my Friday nights had opened up. It will be another year before Case will suit up for Friday night lights, so I decided to try to make up for lost riding time. This weather has been perfect and I have been horse camping the last two weekends.

On my drive home from Cowgirl Weekend, I reflected on the ride. I didn't think we got to ride our kind of ride; if anything, the bar was lowered. I started thinking about riding the Indian Cave CTR. Windy doesn't have near the time on her this year as last year, but relative to a lot of horses, she has enough miles and is in good enough shape to handle it. I started watching the forecast because the last place I want to be is at Indian Cave if it rains or (God-forbid), snows early again this year. And just to make sure I had all my ducks in a row, I had my vet pull Coggins.

One week out and it looked like the weather was going to hold. I sent in my entry. I woke up at 5:00 AM this morning and remembered I didn't get my Coggins papers in the mail. And totally forgot about health papers. My vet lives just down the road, so I wasn't worried so much about him having time to see her as I was about the Coggins results not being here. Usually they come in a matter of a few days. I called the vet and he had received the bill for the lab, but no papers. So I followed up and had the lab scan and email me the results so the health papers could be completed. The originals arrived in the vet's mail this afternoon. Whew! I can't believe I forgot to follow up and it was this close to ride time.

I tackled my least favorite horse chore this afternoon; bathing Windy. I love to groom her, but hate the bath itself. As she dried, I sat down on a bucket next to her and started the monotonous task of scraping botfly eggs off her legs. I then sprayed her legs with Show Sheen, braided her mane & tail and put her in the round pen for the night. I put Butter in to keep her company. The round pen is full of grass; she'll stay clean for the most part. When John got home, I had him clean up her front hooves a bit. She looks show ready!

I'll head out tomorrow morning, set up camp and ride the trails a bit before checking in for the ride. The CTR begins Saturday morning. My goal is to have a good ride and to have fun. And hope my horse doesn't embarrass me or me embarrass her!

Scratch the Itch

I'm about 100 ride hours behind where I was this time last year. But after riding over 35 miles this past weekend, I found my mare is still in excellent condition. I had a lot of horse to hold back as we walked through miles of pastures at what seemed at times to be just a steady crawl. I was itching to pick up the pace a bit; ride the horse under me. I had a lot of horse left at the end of each day. And my own body ached from inactivity.

Tick tock. The hours pass and the days on the calendar are flying by. Winter is coming. I want more ride time and a faster pace. I'm considering doing a competitive trail ride again. I went out tonight to do my eight mile loop. Now that I have a plan, I'm sensitive to Windy's every move. Did she take a wrong step? Is she off? Does she feel different because I am so out of ride shape that I can't even post the trot or stay in a two-point position?

She may be ready. More importantly, am I?

.

Turkey Creek – The Extreme

Although not officially autumn yet, this time of year doesn't need a title; it is my favorite time to ride. I love everything about September; the warm days, sweatshirt weather in the evening and the red sumac. I love that the horses' coats are changing again and the winter growth makes their colors so vibrant again and so soft. And in case you are wondering why I love fall so much when I know what follows… well, I'm in complete denial about that: Live for the day.

This time of year is why I save my vacation days. When my boss got my "out of office" notice when he sent me an email, he replied, "Everything okay?" I reminded him it's time to ride and he authorized it. And while I was at it, I reminded him that this coming week is the beginning of Cowgirl Weekend and I'll be gone again!

Kathy and I made plans last month already to go to the Platte River Riders North's final ride at Turkey Creek near Newcastle this past Wednesday, contingent upon my trailer being fixed. It was, so we were going. We watched the weather on Tuesday and it didn't look promising, but come Wednesday morning, there was just a 40% chance of afternoon showers and clear that evening. That wasn't enough to worry us and we started out later that afternoon for the 2 hour drive north. And par for the course, about 3 miles from Turkey Creek, a black cloud from hell fell over us with such heavy rains and hail, it forced us to pull over. It didn't last long, but the roads were saturated.

As we reached the turn-off for Turkey Creek Ranch, I was a bit apprehensive as the 4WD has been out on the truck since the Wyoming debacle and I knew it would be hairy getting in there without it. I apologized in advance for the ride I was going to give the horses going in and then I gunned it. We went down a short hill, took a sharp turn left and then another sharp turn right and up a steeper hill. With the petal to the metal, we made it!

Turkey Creek Ranch is nestled in the bluffs on the Nebraska side of the Missouri River. The trails weave through the trees offering some climbs to the top for awesome views of the river and into the neighboring states of South Dakota and Iowa. The rain didn't dampen our spirits and it had been dry enough that the group thought that although the surface of the trails may be wet, the base should be good. Okay, that is what we told ourselves. We tend to lie to ourselves when we want to ride. The proprietor, Brenda Wortman, did not choose to ride with us. Something we all took note of later over the campfire.

Tammy "Sam" Alexander & Apache

We started down a muddy trail weaving through the trees with a mild ascent up the nearest bluff. I was maybe 3 or 4 horses back and could see horses in front of me struggle with their footing, so I would move Windy to the grassy part of the trail. She was more interested in the long grass than where she was walking and once at the top, the views, as always, are to die for.

Windy & I

After taking some pictures, we moved on along the ridge of the bluff. Every once in a while, I would glance behind me and see the other eighteen or so other riders following the trail. No one seemed to have any issues with the footing.

Doats & Eric

It was along this time that we evidently missed the turn we were to take and started to go down a hill. It was a little steep and a little slicker, but we got our footing again at the switchback. When the group got to the bottom, there was only two ways out and both of them took us back up to the trail we were just on. I rode ahead with two other people to check out the second trail to save us going back the same way. It looked good and before long, we all made it to the top again.

Off to the right was another mowed trail. We assumed this was the one Brenda had told us to take originally and we had missed. It was grassy with a slight decline; it didn't look at all as ominous as we would later reflect upon. Doats and Eric started to lead, Sam was behind them and I followed Sam. Kathy was right behind me.

I'm told that when Doats has a concern, we should listen because as a seasoned rider, she rarely complains. We heard her say "Oh, hell" and she slipped out of view about the time I saw Sam's horse, Apache, begin to slide. I thought he was going to fall to his hip. Windy went off to the right of Apache and when we were at their side; she hit the same greasy spot as he did and started to slide. I grabbed Sam's arm momentarily as if she would save me from where I was going. In a movie, we would have grasped hands until we could no longer hang on. But on the side of this bluff, I grabbed my reins again as I slid past her. I hear Kathy yelling at the others behind us, "Go back, Go back". I'm not sure if she really said "Save yourself!" or if that was embellished at the campfire, but we were all thinking that.

Windy got really big. In my mind, I envisioned her sitting on her butt with her hind legs sliding under her and her front legs between her hind legs trying to keep us from losing control and falling backwards. I remember looking up at her long neck and it seemed too close to me; almost parallel to my body. I think my feet were close to touching the ground, maybe even dragging, but I didn't look. My camera was around my neck. I wish I had the mind to hit "record", but at this point, I was "saving myself." We were going down (the hill that is) and it would be up to Windy to get me there safely. I had no control anymore.

I don't know how far we slid like that; maybe 20 feet? And it wasn't straight down, but there was no place for the horses to get traction so we kept on sliding. The horses just dropped to their hindquarters and let their engines take over. As we reached the bottom and solid footing, I hugged Windy around the neck and then turned to see Sam reach the bottom safely, too. Kathy was still chattering and sounded a bit panicked. She wasn't sure if her horse, Zuni, was falling or had it under control, so Sam and I assured her that Zuni was doing fine and she should let him finish the descent. A rider behind Kathy dismounted as his horse was about to slide into Zuni and that felt like the thing he should do to get control of his horse.

After the six of us were safely down, did we all start talking at once? The adrenalin was flowing, I know that! We weren't sure whether to high-five or drop to our knees and pray! I think we did a little of both. It seemed so dark down here in the trees. Like we lost what little sunlight we had going down the trail of hell. We all agreed to stay below and we started to work our way through the trees and back toward the trail head.

The riders who "saved themselves" had their own stories to tell which included a loose horse and more slipping and sliding. Around the campfire later that night, we all exchanged our "where were you" stories and the tales grew taller, no doubt. But let me tell you this, I never loved my little mare more. My heart was in my throat as I surrendered control to her. And she never let me down – literally or figuratively.