Saturday was the first day of hunting season, so Lynn and I stayed clear of any real trail riding and kept to the meadow area on Hennessey. We played with cows and looked for bears (we found lots of scat!). We rode down a dirt road until we could go no further without trespassing on people's driveways. Coming back, Brady found his comfortable trot and we moved right along. Occasionally we went into a bit of a canter and he would have easily stretched into an all-out-run. He blew spit all over me as he tossed his head in his unhappiness at having the reins so short. We felt good together and finally I slowed him and down and we went back for Ziggy and Lynn who were doing their own thing.
We picked apples and hung out in the meadow until the loose horses came running to where we were. Lynn tried to shoo them away, but they were hungry for apples. They did not cause any ruckus and we were able to cross over to the creek. Ziggy looked smoother than ever going up the embankment and when it was our turn, Brady jumped up it.
We encountered a bee that would not leave us alone and Brady panicked a little. However, we did not have a rodeo--we just kept moving ahead. Although it followed us for quite a way, it did not sting him. Coming out, we ran up the little hills that lead to the top field and both of us felt good at the end of the ride.
If wet blankets make good horses, check out the foamy sweat Brady worked up! (Pictures soon.)
Back at the house Star had obviously run most of the time were gone. He and Indy were not happy at being left home. Lynn is planning another ride (after hunting probably) on the branch of Trinity Summit's Pacific Crest Trail. I'll ride Star for that one since it would be too much for Brademan. When you coming over, Alisa?
Monday, September 21, 2009
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Just Beachy
Saturday, Lynn and I rounded up Star, Brady, and Ziggy to go to town for their flu shots. Ziggy chose to turn around again in the trailer so he rode backwards to the vet's. In the parking lot at the vet's, I managed to get horse slobber, and I don't know what all, in my hair and on my sweater as I walked Star and Brady around. But for once, I did not win the dirtiest shirt contest--Lynn ended up with horse poop smeared all the way across her shirt, on her hands, and just about everywhere.
Ziggy threw a fit when he was tied to the trailer after getting his shots. Star, Brady, and I stayed near him so he could see us, but he pulled back so hard, he pulled himself down onto his back legs and took some hide off. He left hair and shoe skid marks on the pavement--scaring me into screeching for Lynn for help. I hate when one of them hurts themselves, even when they are being stupid.
We loaded them up and headed for Clam Beach. Lynn wasn't too sure about this venture since Star has never seen the ocean, heard the waves, or dealt with sand like that--not to mention it was only the second time I was to ride him. Moreover, Ziggy was going to have to ponied.
When I took Brady and Star over to the hitching rails, there was a woman and a couple of horses waiting for the rest of their party to arrive. Hanging over one of the rails was a guy with near-waist length dreadlocks. He asked the woman how tall her horse was and after she replied, he informed her he wanted a 16-hand horse (her were too small for a guy like him). He liked them tall. Casually, she said it was farther to the ground the taller the horse. He said confidently he had no intention of falling off his dream tall horse. She dryly replied, "No one usually plans on it." I hid my smile in Brady's mane and she went back to her book. He must have gotten the hint and he sort of sauntered away.
We saddled up and then I put Star in a hole and smugly went to get on, but as I stepped up to put my foot in the stirrup, he started off. I barely had my toe in, but jumped and lay across him to get my other foot in. He kept moving and almost ran me into a tall sign that I hadn't noticed during my graceful attempt to mount (in front of a small audience of course!) Lynn rode Brady and he and Ziggy did really well together. Ziggy followed with no problems--oh except of course when he lay down in the sand and rolled! We were right in the middle of a bunch of campsites, no less. Star had his feet just going too, so I kept his head up because I'm sure he thought it looked like a good idea, too.
We had a few problems, and probably looked a little silly, trying to find a good way to get over to the ocean. The obvious way was through an inlet of water; however, neither of us felt good about going through water we couldn't see the bottom of and it was sandy to boot. Lynn has been in quick sand before and neither of us was in a hurry to experience it. We tried several different trails, but did not get through on any of them.
There were tents pitched all around and as usual there was a little breeze. Star was listening and looking at everything and Lynn reminded me to pay close attention to him. Can you imagine how fast he and I could have gotten into trouble if someone would have zip, zipped his or her way noisily out of one of those moving green monsters? Or if a gust of wind filled it up and it snapped and moved wildly? Thankfully, we did fine together.
We finally started down the Hammond Trail, staying off the pavement and on the shoulders as much as possible. We easily crossed a bridge and continued to try to find a path over the dunes to the ocean itself. Unfortunately, we met a man who said it was miles before we could crossover easily, so not wanting to ride on a paved trail, we turned around and made the decision not to ride any longer--we had only wanted to keep them moving after their shots anyway. As we made our way down the highway, I saw that we actually had been almost to a place we could have crossed over. Oh well--riding on the beach just wasn't to be.
Ziggy threw a fit when he was tied to the trailer after getting his shots. Star, Brady, and I stayed near him so he could see us, but he pulled back so hard, he pulled himself down onto his back legs and took some hide off. He left hair and shoe skid marks on the pavement--scaring me into screeching for Lynn for help. I hate when one of them hurts themselves, even when they are being stupid.
We loaded them up and headed for Clam Beach. Lynn wasn't too sure about this venture since Star has never seen the ocean, heard the waves, or dealt with sand like that--not to mention it was only the second time I was to ride him. Moreover, Ziggy was going to have to ponied.
When I took Brady and Star over to the hitching rails, there was a woman and a couple of horses waiting for the rest of their party to arrive. Hanging over one of the rails was a guy with near-waist length dreadlocks. He asked the woman how tall her horse was and after she replied, he informed her he wanted a 16-hand horse (her were too small for a guy like him). He liked them tall. Casually, she said it was farther to the ground the taller the horse. He said confidently he had no intention of falling off his dream tall horse. She dryly replied, "No one usually plans on it." I hid my smile in Brady's mane and she went back to her book. He must have gotten the hint and he sort of sauntered away.
We saddled up and then I put Star in a hole and smugly went to get on, but as I stepped up to put my foot in the stirrup, he started off. I barely had my toe in, but jumped and lay across him to get my other foot in. He kept moving and almost ran me into a tall sign that I hadn't noticed during my graceful attempt to mount (in front of a small audience of course!) Lynn rode Brady and he and Ziggy did really well together. Ziggy followed with no problems--oh except of course when he lay down in the sand and rolled! We were right in the middle of a bunch of campsites, no less. Star had his feet just going too, so I kept his head up because I'm sure he thought it looked like a good idea, too.
We had a few problems, and probably looked a little silly, trying to find a good way to get over to the ocean. The obvious way was through an inlet of water; however, neither of us felt good about going through water we couldn't see the bottom of and it was sandy to boot. Lynn has been in quick sand before and neither of us was in a hurry to experience it. We tried several different trails, but did not get through on any of them.
There were tents pitched all around and as usual there was a little breeze. Star was listening and looking at everything and Lynn reminded me to pay close attention to him. Can you imagine how fast he and I could have gotten into trouble if someone would have zip, zipped his or her way noisily out of one of those moving green monsters? Or if a gust of wind filled it up and it snapped and moved wildly? Thankfully, we did fine together.
We finally started down the Hammond Trail, staying off the pavement and on the shoulders as much as possible. We easily crossed a bridge and continued to try to find a path over the dunes to the ocean itself. Unfortunately, we met a man who said it was miles before we could crossover easily, so not wanting to ride on a paved trail, we turned around and made the decision not to ride any longer--we had only wanted to keep them moving after their shots anyway. As we made our way down the highway, I saw that we actually had been almost to a place we could have crossed over. Oh well--riding on the beach just wasn't to be.
Friday, September 11, 2009
Labor Day at Alisa's
Friday finally arrived and Lynn and I raced to her house to load up and head out. When I drove in the driveway, I saw she had gotten there before me, so I drove up behind the barn to park the Pilot. I began to load my suitcase and boots into the trailer's tack area. I must have made two or three trips--still no Lynn. Finally I started walking down to the house. She came out and headed up the hill toward me to grab the halters.
We easily caught Brady and Ziggy; Star threw a fit and ran around stirring everyone else up--he wanted to go, too. Lee, Lynn's husband, came out of the house and started in on me, "How'd you open my garage?"
I looked at him askance, "I didn't open your garage."
"Yes, you did! How'd you do it?" he demanded. "Did you get in my truck?"
I stopped to look at him and think--which truck did he mean? The logging truck? How silly! Then it dawned on me, I had tried to put my water bottle in the cup holder in the pickup, but it wouldn't sit right because the garage door opener was in it. Suddenly, the lightbulb went on over my head. "Yep, I did open your garage," I said and we both laughed.
Lynn's side of the story was that they were arguing in the house that someone had opened the garage, but no one was there. Lee was adamant that someone had opened it, but Lynn thought he was crazy. He kept saying, "There's someone here--I see legs!" It was a funny way to start our trip.
After visiting with Alisa until late Friday night, we got up the next morning and went to Buck's Lake for an easy, somewhat level ride. It was a beautiful day (as evidenced by the slideshow). We had a little bit of excitement when the trail sort of ended in a bunch of bushes at the creek draining into the lake. Of course we are bushwacking women, so we got off and lead our faithful steeds through the rocky creek and up the other side. I got a little wet stepping in the shallow water, but nothing uncomfortable. We rode out to a point that seemed a little less than halfway around the lake and headed back.
There were some very narrow areas with the soft dirt of the trail almost slipping away. Brady and Odie had no qualms and simply stayed to the high side like good trail horses should. Lynn walked Ziggy since he came by his name honestly and she felt safer showing him how to do it first. We went down to the lake so Ziggy could drink and then they could eat the good grass growing along side.
We met some nice women and had some laughs at the antics of their dogs. Then we headed for home. We put the horses up and headed out, horse slobber and all, to watch some team roping at the fair grounds. It was a nice day all the way around.
The next day, we drove across the highway to a side road that Alisa's friend told her was a good riding area. It wasn't too steep for Brademan and we just cruised right along. It was obvious he was feeling good by the spring in his step. We rode a loop that brought us back too soon to for us to end the day; so we followed "The Man from Snowy River" also known as "Lynn from Burnt Ranch" as she made her own trail.
We found a great trail, but it ended on the highway. However, we also saw a great old car and met a nice man who lived nearby and told us about a pond no one else knows about. We broke a new trail back and promised ourselves to look for the pond next time.
In two days of trail riding there was only one time where we had to take a sharp intake of breath: Alisa and I watched as Ziggy attempted to climb a creek bank and then went a little vertical. It would not have been a good place for Lynn (or Ziggy) to end up on their backs. Thankfully, Ziggy seems to be a thinker, maybe a slow one, but a thinker nevertheless. He realized he could not go the way he wanted as his knees buckled under him on the slippery rocks, but he did not panic. He took a moment and reassessed. Then he stood up and went the way Lynn had tried to get him to go in the first place. Alisa and I (and probably Lynn) let out our air and we went on our merry way.
When we got home, Gordy, Alisa's husband, accused us of being "old" when he pulled up beside the horsetrailer. "What?!" we all exclaimed.
"You used to ride until 5:00, now you're back by 2:30-3:00," he said.
"We have old horses and young horses who can't do as much," Lynn told him.
"Yea, right. Blame it on the horses," were his last words as he drove off.
We had a group head-shaking moment at his tail lights and then we went in and took showers, ate half a butterscotch pie for lunch, and then drove around Quincy. What a horse owner's heaven. Lots of green fields with little streams running through them. Big barns dotted the landscape and horses of every breed and color stood eating in different fields. It was a beautiful, late summer day.
Thanks Alisa for your great hospitality--I can hardly wait until the next ride. I know I say it everytime, but "every day ahorseback is a good day!"
We easily caught Brady and Ziggy; Star threw a fit and ran around stirring everyone else up--he wanted to go, too. Lee, Lynn's husband, came out of the house and started in on me, "How'd you open my garage?"
I looked at him askance, "I didn't open your garage."
"Yes, you did! How'd you do it?" he demanded. "Did you get in my truck?"
I stopped to look at him and think--which truck did he mean? The logging truck? How silly! Then it dawned on me, I had tried to put my water bottle in the cup holder in the pickup, but it wouldn't sit right because the garage door opener was in it. Suddenly, the lightbulb went on over my head. "Yep, I did open your garage," I said and we both laughed.
Lynn's side of the story was that they were arguing in the house that someone had opened the garage, but no one was there. Lee was adamant that someone had opened it, but Lynn thought he was crazy. He kept saying, "There's someone here--I see legs!" It was a funny way to start our trip.
After visiting with Alisa until late Friday night, we got up the next morning and went to Buck's Lake for an easy, somewhat level ride. It was a beautiful day (as evidenced by the slideshow). We had a little bit of excitement when the trail sort of ended in a bunch of bushes at the creek draining into the lake. Of course we are bushwacking women, so we got off and lead our faithful steeds through the rocky creek and up the other side. I got a little wet stepping in the shallow water, but nothing uncomfortable. We rode out to a point that seemed a little less than halfway around the lake and headed back.
There were some very narrow areas with the soft dirt of the trail almost slipping away. Brady and Odie had no qualms and simply stayed to the high side like good trail horses should. Lynn walked Ziggy since he came by his name honestly and she felt safer showing him how to do it first. We went down to the lake so Ziggy could drink and then they could eat the good grass growing along side.
We met some nice women and had some laughs at the antics of their dogs. Then we headed for home. We put the horses up and headed out, horse slobber and all, to watch some team roping at the fair grounds. It was a nice day all the way around.
The next day, we drove across the highway to a side road that Alisa's friend told her was a good riding area. It wasn't too steep for Brademan and we just cruised right along. It was obvious he was feeling good by the spring in his step. We rode a loop that brought us back too soon to for us to end the day; so we followed "The Man from Snowy River" also known as "Lynn from Burnt Ranch" as she made her own trail.
We found a great trail, but it ended on the highway. However, we also saw a great old car and met a nice man who lived nearby and told us about a pond no one else knows about. We broke a new trail back and promised ourselves to look for the pond next time.
In two days of trail riding there was only one time where we had to take a sharp intake of breath: Alisa and I watched as Ziggy attempted to climb a creek bank and then went a little vertical. It would not have been a good place for Lynn (or Ziggy) to end up on their backs. Thankfully, Ziggy seems to be a thinker, maybe a slow one, but a thinker nevertheless. He realized he could not go the way he wanted as his knees buckled under him on the slippery rocks, but he did not panic. He took a moment and reassessed. Then he stood up and went the way Lynn had tried to get him to go in the first place. Alisa and I (and probably Lynn) let out our air and we went on our merry way.
When we got home, Gordy, Alisa's husband, accused us of being "old" when he pulled up beside the horsetrailer. "What?!" we all exclaimed.
"You used to ride until 5:00, now you're back by 2:30-3:00," he said.
"We have old horses and young horses who can't do as much," Lynn told him.
"Yea, right. Blame it on the horses," were his last words as he drove off.
We had a group head-shaking moment at his tail lights and then we went in and took showers, ate half a butterscotch pie for lunch, and then drove around Quincy. What a horse owner's heaven. Lots of green fields with little streams running through them. Big barns dotted the landscape and horses of every breed and color stood eating in different fields. It was a beautiful, late summer day.
Thanks Alisa for your great hospitality--I can hardly wait until the next ride. I know I say it everytime, but "every day ahorseback is a good day!"
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