Twelve Days of Christmas

On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me…

Twelve Pasture Pro Posts (closer to 2,000)

Eleven loads of gravel (we’re still spreading it, volunteers welcome)

Ten rolls of duct tape (even a roll in blue)

Nine apple horse treats (okay, they were peppermint, but that didn’t fit)

Eight shinning light bulbs (no more flashlight stall mucking)

Seven black bridal racks

Six swinging stall gates

Five rolls of ElectroBriad

Four bags of feed

Three big bales

Two muck buckets

And the horses home with me!

Merry Christmas!  It’s hard to believe that just last year, all I wanted for Christmas was a Christmas tree to make our house feel more like a home and less like we were camping.  I actually ended up with three trees.  An electronic sparkly tree from a dear friend, a cedar tree sprout decorated in a pot with kill orders from my mom, and a beautiful tree in the bedroom (because that was the only finished room at the time) from my husband.  It was a wonderful Christmas and it’s been a terrific and productive year since.

When you’re part of the daily grind, it’s hard to step back and see how far you’ve come.  That’s true whether you’re building a farm from scratch, training a horse, or tackling a big project at work.  Plus, this is a stressful time of year.  There are bills to pay, subscriptions and memberships to renew, and of course presents to find and purchase.  We find ourselves hustling and bustling with no direction.  With our heads in our shopping carts and calendars, we lose sight of the reason for the season.  So, instead of a Fresh Perspective this holiday season, let’s all take a long look back.  Look back through you day and all you got done.  Look back through the year at the highs and lows.  Then look way back to the first Christmas and remember it’s not what we do, but what’s been done for us.   

                                                          Merry Christmas!

Applied Physics: Newton's 2nd Law of Motion

The relationship between an object’s mass, its acceleration and the applied force is force equals mass times acceleration.

Physics is definitely not my subject, but the horses seem bound and determine to further my education, even if we’re going about it in reverse order.  We learned about Newton’s 3^rd law back in May.  (Read it Here)  This week’s lesson, Newton’s 2^nd Law of Motion.

I find the Second Law of Motion a little more complicated.  After all, it involves math.  That’s probably why Nutmeg needed to illustrate it not once, but twice this week.  For the first time since moving the horses home, I got to ride in my future arena, aka “the grass patch.”  Early in the year, I mowed the grass in approximately the location and dimensions of the grand prix jumping arena we will someday install (ha).  Admiral tested it out first with a very easy walk/trot day.  The ground was still a little wet and we were occasionally tearing up the grass, so we played it safe.  We’re also both embarrassingly out of shape so that helped dictate our regimen as well.  Fitness and activity levels aside, we determined the grass patch will make a fine arena and it was great to be riding in circles at home.

Nutmeg was thrilled with the footing the following day and that’s where Newton’s 2^nd Law comes into play.  The relationship between an object’s mass (Nutmeg’s mass = a lot, her weight is 1280 lbs.), its acceleration (halt=0 mph, walk = 4.5 mph, trot = 12 to 15 mph, canter = 20-25, buck = who knows… but you get the idea) and the applied force is force equals mass times acceleration.  So, we’ve got the mass of a very big horse times the acceleration of a very big horse who hasn’t been out on good footing in ages.  Let me tell you, the force is great, so great, the ground was flashing before my eyes and I was praying I stayed in the saddle.  The really great thing about force is that it can be applied in any direction, forward, backward, up, down, diagonal.  Nutmeg made sure I remembered that concept as well with a series of rodeo bronc bucks that rivaled her younger days.  I guess the two trips to the chiropractor have her feeling young and frisky.

Lesson two for Newton’s 2^nd Law came a few nights later.  We spent a large portion of the day preparing for the impending rain.  We hauled and spread gravel on my path up to the pasture to prevent the mud slip-in-slide adventures of the last rain fall.  Then we dug out under the pasture gate and filled in with gravel.  Yes, I’m seriously spoiled by my husband.  That night, as I was bringing the horses and pony inside, Newton’s 2^nd Law got some practical application.  In the very dark, dark a hoof collided with my ankle bone.  The force at which it impacted was great, but I wasn’t sure who to blame.  Remembering Nutmeg’s lesson earlier in the week I did a little math.  A large amount of force would be the product of either large mass and little acceleration or little mass and fast acceleration.  Admiral was ruled out because he wasn’t close enough to inflict damage.  Vaughn weighs all of 500 lbs when wet.  We were walking.  Acceleration was nil.  Big foot’s to blame.  Big surprise.

So, lesson noted.  Physics is very much an applied science.  Sometimes it’s applied to your rear; sometimes to your ankle and sometimes it allows you to soar over cross country fences.  I guess Newton’s 2^nd Law of Motion isn’t all bad.  That’s your Fresh Perspective on Newton’s 2^nd Law. 

Live Now!

Through work, I was recently exposed to the book The Rules of Life by Richard Templar.  I love rules, just ask my husband, so I knew immediately that this book was going on my reading list.  I’m not finished yet.  In fact, I’ve hardly started.  Okay, truth be told, I haven’t even bought it yet.   (Hint, Hint for Christmas) Just the titles of the chapters have me enthralled though since I keep seeing their applications to horseback riding.

Take, for example, Rule (chapter) 19.  “Don’t Dwell on the Past.”  Sure, we’ve heard that before, but have you ever applied it to your riding?  Admiral is a spooky boy.  If he’s nervous he spooks.  Board, he spooks.  If he is fit he spooks; feeling lazy he spooks.  You get the idea.  And, his spooks aren’t just a splay legged stop either.  Generally, he drops and does a one-eighty that puts many reining horses to shame.  It’s definitely “un-seat-eling” even if you’re ready for it.  With this in mind, I find myself dwelling on the last trip around the arena, preparing for the spook at the white roll top or the bushy tree.  The problem is, I’m not actually riding the horse under me.  I’m riding the horse that was under me two minutes or thirty seconds ago.  The only way to be an effective rider is to ride in the here and now.  Feel what’s under you.  Influence what you are riding now.

There’s more to Rule 19.  Templar writes, “ Whatever the past was, it’s gone.  There is nothing you can do to change anything that has gone before, and so you must turn your attention to the here and now…Live here.  Live now.  Live in this moment.”  I struggle with this.  I’d never really thought of it as a detriment to my riding that I compare horses to each other.  I was lucky enough to have two really awesome mares when I was younger.  They are the measuring stick I hold every other horse against and that’s not fair.  It’s also not fun.  What made those horses so great was the journey I made with them.  It wasn’t the end accomplishments, it was the time spent in and out of the saddle.  By comparing my current horses and by always striving to get back to where I left off, I’m robbing myself of the journey. 

Rule 20 fits right in as well.  “Don’t Live in the Future.”  Basically the message is, if you’re constantly driving for the future, you’re never satisfied, EVER.  The future never gets here.  It’s a message that is twofold.  If you’re a dreamer like I am, your thoughts are always on the next big thing.  You want to make things better, be a little richer, jump a little bigger, show a little more often, have a nicer home/barn.  Whatever the dream is, it consumes us.  Our current situation, horse, job, house, whatever, is compared to the dream.  Templar writes, “The key is to appreciate what we’ve got right now and yet still dream and plan.  That way we’ll be a little happier now than if we were constantly looking to the future, where happiness apparently lies.”  Remember, the future never gets here.  You better learn to be happy in the present if you ever hope to be happy.

The other part of “Don’t Live in the Future” deals with worry.  If you’re dwelling on the future, good or bad, you’re robbing yourself of the moment you are living.  Horses are great at creating worry.  We worry about possible lameness, about the right kind of feed, about finding a good vet and farrier, about them being too cold or too hot.  We also worry about the spook waiting for us on our next ride or stride for that matter.  We count the days, weeks, months, or if you’re lucky years, since our last fall and worry about how much the next one will hurt.  We’re only getting older after all.  I hate to admit it, but we worry about what others will think as well.  Templar writes, “Every time we worry about something in the future, we rob ourselves of living in the moment.  We lose a day that could have been spent enjoying life.  The bad things we worry about may never happen, but the days we spend worrying about them can never be returned to us.”  Sounds like pretty good advice to me.

Whether you’re striving to improve your riding or just trying to find a bit of contentment in life, try this perspective.  Live in the moment.  Learn from your past, plan for the future, but live right now.  Appreciate where you are.  Soak in the sights, smells, and sounds.  Enjoy the journey.  Clear your mind of clutter.  Focus on now, it’s pretty amazing.

Home is Where the Heart Is?

Sure, it’s cliché, but don’t blog post titles generally fall into that category?  That aside, I believe there are more “H’s” than just Heart that make up a Home.

In 2010, I got married.  Home was suddenly not where I grew up, but where my husband was.  For several months that meant “home” was a camping trailer parked in our future house.  It made for interesting challenges like cooking meals in either a microwave or on the stove top, doing dishes with the garden hose and surviving a Missouri fall with no heat.  As newly-weds we made it work and celebrated having each other.  For those few months, the camper was home.

While we were living in the camper we were building on our house.  It defiantly hadn’t taken on the characteristics of a home yet.  We put in drywall, painted like crazy, laid flooring, and finally got heat.  We gave up the camper and moved into the far from finished house, celebrating each other, real walls and heat.  With a bed on the floor, we were home.

After ba-hum-bugging all things Christmas, my husband surprised me with Christmas lights and a Christmas tree.  Some might see it as a silly gesture or a waste of cash, but to me it brought hope.  We might be roughing it, still waiting for a kitchen sink, and working our butts off, but we had each other, walls and a roof over our heads.  We had heat to keep us warm and could look forward to a future full of family gatherings and holiday celebrations.  It really felt like home, construction dust and all.

I’ll be the first to admit that as things progress on the house, it gets harder and harder to keep pressing forward.  So what if the trim isn’t done and the closet still needs shelves.  We’re happy.  There’s a house to return to each night, a husband waiting, heat to keep the whistling wind at bay and hope for the future.  We’re really enjoying life.  It makes it that much harder to keep building and working.  We’d love to just stand back and say, “Look at how far we’ve come,” but we’re not done yet.  Even though we're happy, no one else would see it as a home.

In case you missed me proclaiming the news from the roof top (walk-way) via facebook, the horses got to come home on Thanksgiving.  A year, almost to the day, after we moved into the house, the horses got to join us.  I get to kiss three furry muzzles goodnight and I’m greeted by whickers in the morning.  Sure, for now it means early mornings, scooping poop by flashlight, and absolutely no life, but they are here, a goal I’ve had for years.  The horses are home.

A husband, a house, heat, hope, happiness and horses.  Sounds like a home to me, but the final piece fell into place Thanksgiving.  Hospitality.  We had the privilege of having both sets of parents, some grandparents, siblings, and aunts over for Thanksgiving.  With a table full of twelve, a kitchen full of smells, and a barn full of horses our house was christened as our home.  For once people came to us, instead of us traveling to them.  Our family came to our home. 

So, Home isn’t just where the Heart is.  Or is it?  Home has many components and they vary from person to person.  Some want a place they can decorate.  Some want a place to have kids.  Some look forward to being able to dance in their underwear and some just want a place to feel secure.  Whatever it is that makes your home, remember if you look deep enough you’ll find your heart as well.  That’s my Fresh Perspective on Home.  Enjoy yours this Holiday Season.

Goose Bumps

Buuurrrr.  Fall temperatures finally got here after teasing us with amazingly warm weather for the past few months.   I’m suddenly adding extra layers and blanketing the dog before she goes outside.  I’m also in a near constant state of goose bumps, but they don’t derive solely from the colder weather.

About this time last year we moved into the house from the camper.  The floors weren’t done.  The sinks didn’t work.  Heck, we didn’t even have counters, but there was heat and that was a lot to be thankful for.  Now the floors are done, the sinks are in, most of the trim is up and we’re getting ready to host our first Thanksgiving.  I’ve never been much of a hostess.  In fact, right now I’m trying to decide where to stash the random construction supplies instead of making seating cards or folding napkins (or sweeping…).  I refuse to stress out.  It won’t be a Hallmark card, but our families will be together.  The light fixtures might be covered in drywall dust, but the warm glow will come from our hearts.  We have much to be thankful for so, rough edges aside, I’ve got goosebumps anticipating the festivities.

The horses are also scheduled to come home this week.  We hoped to bring them up over the weekend, but like anything dealing with construction or horses, the schedule gets shifted.  The list of “Must do’s” is getting smaller.  The list of “Melinda would really like done” is getting longer, but we should have one paddock and three stalls habitable before Thanksgiving.  It’s not going to be the perfect homecoming I always envisioned with sparkling stalls and landscaped walk ways, but we've worked hard to make a horse friendly home.  To borrow the cliche, the dark always comes before the dawn. The thought of good-night muzzle nudges counters the dread of four o’clock mornings in the frigid winter without lights and gives me happy (mostly) goose bumps.

Work at the radio station gets a little lot crazy this time of year.  The holiday open houses, the Christmas advertisements, the special holiday programs, Christmas greetings, and Christmas carols all make life interesting.  But they also bring a special anticipation, an air of excitement, and of course, little pimples of skin all over my body. 

My husband and I are getting ready to spend our second Christmas as husband and wife.  We get to decorate the tree, make cookies, and spread the cheer as man and wife and that gives me goose bumps.

So this Thanksgiving week, each time your skin does its best to mimic the Thanksgiving bird of choice, try to come up with something that gives you good goosebumps and have a fresh perspective on the changing weather and the skin prickling it produces. 

Back Seat Driving

With one horse down for the count, I’ve had a little time to ponder.  My conclusion is far from a peer reviewed, scientifically proven thesis, but I’ll lay it out there anyway.  Ready?  My conclusion: Back Seat Driving is the bomb!

Husbands and wives are cringing, but hear me out.  It all started with a problem.  A friend’s talented little horse was jumping like a champ with his front end, and doing who knows what with his rear.  Routinely his antics left me close to tears, laughing as his rider clung on for dear life.  Apparently, I’m not the most sympathetic comrade.  Humor aside, it was time to figure out what was going on or give up on this case. 

I never “give-up” and rarely concede, so instead of karaoke in the car, I started mulling over the pieces of the puzzle.

It took me longer than I care to admit to decipher that the little guy was jumping by pushing off his front legs instead of rocking back on his haunches.  He’d canter up to a fence, stab his front feet in the ground and then pop over in a bit of a surprise.  While occasionally cute and routinely humorous, it was neither correct nor efficient. 

A horse jumps from their hind legs.  Think about their anatomy.  The front legs are built for swinging forward propulsion, but the real power is in the spring like hind end.  You probably can’t bounce very well on your finger tips (even if you were super strong), but standing on the balls of your feet, you can bounce and even jump quite well.  Horse’s carry 60% of their weight on their front legs naturally, then we add a rider.  It works pretty well if you’re just cruising down the trail or around the arena, but if you need to lift the front end much, something has to change.

Most horses out in a field will naturally change their balance from front to back and back to the front again as the need arises and if you watch a horse jump well (really jump, not just canter over something), you’ll see them lift their forehand and spring from their back legs.  This is an exaggeration, but you’ll see what I mean.

Did you notice how little weight the horse had on its front legs right before the last jump.  Watch it again.  The front legs do nearly nothing.  They basically are just waiting for the hind legs to thrust them up into the air.  So, what does this mean?  We’ve got to think about the back seat.

I’ve had it drilled into my head, “Ride from back to front, leg to hand.”  Sure, I’ve got it.  You’ve got to have “go” before you can have direction or set the tempo.  But it means more than that.  We need to ride the hind legs, not the front.  That’s hard!  After all, we’re sitting much closer to the front end.  Most of us were taught to “steer” like we drive a car, turn the wheel and the front tires or front legs will go in the direction you want.  But what about the back seat?  Sure, it’s going to come along because it’s attached, but if you’ve driven a trailer or ridden a crooked horse, you know the hind doesn’t always follow the front precisely. 

When I’m driving a trailer, I pay more attention to where the trailer is than I do to the truck (maybe not the best plan, but it has yet to get me in trouble).  Wouldn’t it be great if I could start riding horses that way?  It’s a radical change.  You no longer post with the outside front leg, but with the inside hind.  You no longer turn with your reins, but with your seat and legs.  You know longer make a downward transition by slowing down the front end, but by riding the hind legs (I know, I know, Carlie, you’ve been telling me this for years!)  Sure, that awesome lifting feeling at the withers is nice, but it’s the power from the hind legs stepping farther under that’s more important and it’s from the power of the hind legs that you get the lifting in front.  Finally, the take-off point at a jump is not where your horse’s front legs get to the jump, but how, when and where their butt gets there.  Try counting your strides by the pushing off of the hind legs instead of when the front legs land or the flight stage of the canter.  It will blow your mind. 

So there it is, my fresh perspective on riding.  Hide Sight is 20/20.  Back seat driving is the bomb, but you’ll probably need a good friend/helper to get there.

Autumn Ambivalence Be Gone!

We’re back!!!  I counted it up in my record book.  It’s been 94 days since I was able to ride both Admiral and Nutmeg.  The ironic part, I really didn’t want to go to the barn last night.

We have had an amazing run of nice weather this fall.  80’s and sunshine every day for weeks on end.  While other parts of the country have been suffering from droughts or monsoons, we’ve been soaking up the incredible weather, knowing that sooner rather than later, winter would arrive.  Well, it showed up on Monday.  Rain and 50.  We’re expecting the first freeze tonight with temperatures in the 40’s for the rest of the week.  Naturally, when I want nothing more than to cuddle up with a blanket and a cup of tomato soup, both horses are finally ready to go back to work.

One thing or another went wrong this summer.  Admiral rolled on a boulder rock pebble and was out with an impressive bump on his back for months.  Nutmeg threw a shoe, then threw a fit the day her shoe was back on, leading to a month of stiff sore muscles and liniment rubs.  Friends got married, fencing started and stopped about ten times, stalls needed to be built and money ran out.  Riding just wasn’t at the top of the priority list. 

I never thought I could survive without my equine therapists, but I was actually getting used to coming home to my husband every night and skipping the five hour venture to the barn and back.  Sure, when it was sunny and warm I looked longingly out the window and dreamed, but the nasty rain did nothing to entice me to the barn.  Even the thought of getting to finally use Nutmeg’s new dressage bridle (a birthday present in August) had lost its luster.  Autumn ambivalence had set in, full force.

But I had to go to the barn.  Really, I had to go to the barn.  The poor ponies’ blankets were in the back of my car, laundered and smelling fresh less like manure, and they needed them ASAP.  Plus, I promised a friend I’d drop her new round of Smart Paks off while she was on vacation.  With less than adequate clothing, to the barn I went.

Thank goodness for indoor arenas!  That is one thing I will definitely miss when the horses come home.  I didn’t die of hypothermia.  I didn’t have to cut my ride time short due to the dwindling light.  And, I got to ride BOTH horses!!!  They were both sound, they were both happy to see me, and they were both fairly well behaved.  I dropped off the blankets and headed home with a feeling of contentment I haven’t had in a while.  You can’t really put it in words.  Let’s just say, I’m glad I went to the barn after all.  It may not be what I want to do at the time, but riding always helps and leaves me with a fresh perspective.

A Happily Ever Nightmare

It’s every horse owner’s greatest fear.  During your morning check you discover your horse is missing.  No fence down, no gates open, just a missing horse.  All the thoughts that race through your head are bad, just to varying degrees.  It’s a nightmare.

For a horse owner in Mid-Missouri Saturday morning, the nightmare became a reality.  Their palomino gelding was missing.  His heard-mates were unconcerned, but he was definitely gone.  They spent two hours combing the pasture and turned up nothing.  So they called their local radio station.  I took the call.

“I was wondering if you could get something on the air for me?”

We get these calls all the time and, if I can say so myself, we have a pretty good system for dealing with them.  “I’ve got something for sale,” gets pointed to the Swap Shop program or a Sales Rep.  “My dog or cat is missing (we’ve even had a bird),” we take their information and put it on the daily Pet Patrol.  Birthday wishes, Community events, and meeting cancellations, there is a time and a place for that information every day.  But what do you do when someone tells you there 1200 lb. animal is loose somewhere near town?

My heart stopped and simultaneously went out to the couple.  Decision time.  A horse is not your average missing pet.  It’s a safety hazard.  “Of course I’ll get it on the air for you.  Can you tell me a bit more…”

So the horse’s description and last know location went out to all our Saturday morning listeners.  I gave the information twice in a twenty minute time period.  The phone rang again.

“We found him!  Well, they found him.  They’ve got him in the arena up at the fairgrounds.  Thank you so much!”

That palomino gelding had traveled over five miles and crossed a US Highway.  Thankfully there was a big event taking place at the fairgrounds over the weekend and someone recognized the horse from the description they heard on the radio.  I received a third call from the owners later in the morning, thanking me again and blessing the effectiveness of broadcast radio.

It was a wonderful end to a horrific circumstance.  Thank goodness for quick thinking people,  thank goodness for watchful neighbors and yee-haw for local radio with real people on the other side of the mic 24/7.   Next time you turn on Pandora or Satellite radio, remember “radio” is more than entertainment, it’s a service to the community.  How’s that for a Fresh Perspective.

A Little Blessing, Please!

Before we begin, a quick disclaimer.  This is intended to be a humorous anecdote and a bit of stress relief for me.  Please do not take offense at the content.

It’s been a frustrating month.  I’m still driving two hours any time I want to visit the horses, which isn’t so bad when you actually get to ride, however, I’ve struck out three times in a row and it stinks. 

In early August, Admiral developed a large bump on his back.  Our best guess is that he rolled on a rock.  I never claimed he was the smartest horse in the pasture.  Under most circumstances, my first line of treatment with swellings on horses is to let them be for a bit and keep an eye on things.  Well, the bump that was originally about the size of my hand, has slowly been shrinking, an encouraging sign.  Admiral, however, still takes offence when you poke and prod on it and until yesterday, riding was out of the question.   With a cut-out pad and the saddle a bit further back than normal, we were able to walk, trot, and do a tiny bit of canter.  Being back in the saddle is a wonderful feeling!  It was hard not to push and only do the tiniest bit of work, but just a little work-out caused the bump to grow the slightest amount, so keeping it light was a good plan.  Thankfully, Admiral hasn’t lost much cardiovascular fitness (he’s in better shape than me), but he has lost quite a bit of carrying muscle, so we’re going to be spending the winter rebuilding – story of our lives.

I’ve been out of the saddle for a month because apparently, Nutmeg really doesn’t want to try out her super awesome new dressage bridle.  After her brief vacation following the Heritage Horse Trials, she threw a shoe.  Her way of saying, “More vacation please!”  We’re trying to build fence and stalls at home, so a brief hiatus wasn’t going to leave me board out of my mind.  We didn’t make an emergency farrier call.  He’d be back in a week or so anyway.  Well, in that week, the weather turned to fall – absolute perfect riding weather and I really started to get the itch.  Plus, another show opportunity was dangled in front of me and I still hadn’t tested out the new bridle.  Definitely time to get back in the saddle.  Nutmeg of course had other plans.  The same day she got her shoe fixed, she through a temper-tantrum, ending in some seriously sore muscles throughout her neck, back and front legs.  I’ve seen a lot of sore horses, like after pulling themselves and their riders up and down slick Missouri river bluffs for a day, but I’ve never seen a horse that sore.  Needless to say, no riding in the new bridle, no prepping for the show, just a highly disappointed me, worried about Miss Nutmeg and Mr. Admiral.

Fittingly, October 3^rd is World Animal Day and St. Peter Church offers free blessings for animals to mark the commemoration of Saint Francis of Assisi – the patron saint of animals.  You can email a photo of your animal and they’ll bless it for you.  Sign me up!  Where’s the camera?  Both ponies are going to get a blessing!  Check out the link.  http://www.horsetalk.co.nz/news/2011/09/195.shtml

    

Will I actually send them in?  Probably not.  In all honestly, we’re already very blessed.  I’ve got two personable and talented horses to ride or just snuggle with if that’s how the chips fall.  I’ve got a husband, who realizing I was a bit down, packed me up and sent me off for a day of tack shopping with a great friend.  I’ve got an owner who will bend over backwards to take good care of the ponies when they’re not feeling top-notch.  I’ve got friends who have a knack for getting me out to the barn, even when I’m skeptical about riding.  We’re blessed already and I seriously doubt sprinkling some holy water on a picture will change our luck.

Thankfully, things are looking up.  I spent an unfortunate amount of money tack shopping, but really did keep myself to the essentials.  Admiral is back in light work and a happy camper.  After a couple days of rest and some liniment massages, Nutmeg is feeling less sore and the final pieces of our fencing came in two weeks early.  Happy Dance!  It’s always a roller coaster ride, but I’ll keep trying to keep my perspective fresh and forward, letting the hills and valleys come as they may.

A Lesson in Faith

If you read either of my “Packing” blogs, you know I’m a bit obsessive about being prepared when traveling with horses.  Actually, I’m a bit obsessive about being prepared period.  So, when I heard there was a group of five riders traveling from Iowa to Mississippi by horseback, my head began to reel with the logistics.  I figured they could probably teach me a thing or two about packing.  Turns out they had a lot to teach, but packing wasn’t the point.

The group is on what they have dubbed, “The Freedom Trail Ride.”  They are riding from Decatur City, Iowa to Vicksburg, Mississippi, about an 800 mile trek.  The horses won’t step foot on a trailer the whole way there. 

Their mission is two-fold.  They are raising awareness and funds for a four day camp for handicapped kids called Horses 4 Handicapped.  The camp allows handicapped kids to come ride and enjoy horses at absolutely no cost and runs entirely on volunteers and donations.  It takes place annually in April.  They are also escorting a Vietnam Vet home after 42 years.  When he returned from Vietnam, the town basically kicked him out, now he’s hoping to be welcomed home.  The horses and the wagon with the names of his platoon on the side, will make-up his homecoming parade.

I meant to stop by the fairgrounds where they were camping for five, ten, maybe fifteen minutes.  I was there for over an hour and wished I could have stayed longer.  You expect interesting stories from travelers, but this group has a special passion and an incredible spirit.  Their stories were a real eye-opener.

If I was going to travel more than ten miles by horseback, I’d have a map with predetermined stopping points, places to water, places to get food, and most importantly places to spend the night.  Heck, I try to plan out my seven mile canoe trip like that and there aren’t any animals depending on my planning then.  I asked them about their itinerary. 

“Head down 65 ‘till we cross the Mississippi.” 

That’s the extent of it.  They ride as far as they can, then stop for the night.  They left Decatur City with an expectation to camp alongside the highway.  It hasn’t happened yet.  Each and every night, someone has offered them a place to stay.  What’s more, they’ve got a trailer with hay, feed, and other supplies that they leave behind each morning.  Every night, someone offers to drive one of them back twenty or so miles so they can pick the truck and trailer up and bring it along.  They’ve had people go out of their way to water their horses, cook them meals, offer them showers and more.  I’ll admit, my faith in humanity is not that good and I told them as much.  Their response, (I paraphrase)

“It’s not just faith in humanity; it’s faith in something bigger.  It’s faith in God.  You’ve got to know he’s watching out for us.”

That hit me like a two-by-four.  Well duh!  You can plan and make lists and write itineraries until you’re pens all run out of ink and something will still go wrong, or at least not according to plan.  They wake up each morning with a fresh perspective and no preconceived notions about what the day will hold.  They’ve got the faith to get them to the next stopping point, and the next, and the next.  They’re not worried about when, where, and what they’ll eat.  They are focused on the goal and enjoying the journey to get there.  Sounds a lot like life to me.  We know the end goal.  We’ve just got to keep taking the steps to get there. 

They had one more lesson for me too.  I thought I’d offer them a really nice place to stay.  A place designed to cater to horses.  It was just two miles off of 65 Hwy.  They appreciated the offer I’m sure, but they didn’t want to travel the extra four miles.  What’s four miles when you’re traveling 800?!?  Well, its four miles when you’re not working toward that end goal.  Its four miles when you aren’t making progress.  I’m sure stalls for the horses and beds for the humans was a huge temptation, but they weren’t going to stray from the trail.  It’s onward, onward, with no detours.

It was an odd feeling to watch them head down the road again. I was filled with anticipation for them and all they will encounter along the way.  I tried not to worry about the narrow shoulders and increasingly tuff terrain and weather they would be facing, and I was left with a feeling gratitude and loss.  In a little over an hour they taught me some important lessons.  What other fresh perspectives could they have shared if I stayed for two or three hours or saddled up and joined them?  

This is the video story I put together for work.  I do have the best job!

Heritage Horse Trails Novice XC 2011

In case you missed it...
               a walk around the Novice course at Heritage with Kat (the dog) leading

The horse eating bush monster.

Yet another, bushy monster.

4&5.  Five is the identical jump in the distance.

Up the Bank

Down the Bank and to the feeder.

A nice place to sit and rest.

Two stride combination.

This was the B to 12 A

Homeward Bound

Hedge Apples & Horse Apples: A Weekend at Heritage

There are so many things floating around in my head after our weekend at Heritage, but the most important is that we had a great time and ended the weekend sound and happy.  Our final score kind of stunk (my worst score ever at a recognized event), but it was still a weekend I feel very good about.  We improved in several areas and took baby steps forward instead of leaps back, but let’s begin at the beginning.

We survived the trip to Heritage Horse Park, nestled in the hustle and bustle of Olathe, KS.  No flat tires for me to struggle with on my own alongside five lanes of traffic.  *Big sigh of Relief*  Nutmeg was quite pleased with the location.  There were hedge apples everywhere.  All weekend long our walks consisted of dodging from one hedge apple to the next.  She was less pleased with her stall accommodations, but behaved herself well enough.  I quite enjoyed our front row stall with a great view and pleasant shade.  We were right across the drive from the secretary and just down the drive from the water and the manure pile.  It’s the little things in life.

We had a brief, but pleasant hack Friday afternoon before I headed out to scout out the cross country course.  I’m always amazed at how much bigger the jumps look when you’re walking around on foot.  The first fence struck me as quite the question.  It was beautiful, but with a big bush on either side and white stone underneath, it was, in my opinion an opposing first fence.  I wasn’t the least bit worried, because I was riding the wonder horse Nutmeg, a.k.a. – Braveheart or I don’t care what stuff looks like.  From there the course seemed to be a straight forward, pleasant ride.  They were still completing the new water complex and the hoses were trickling water in from several points.  I was slightly concerned that some horses would find the transition from the new black dirt to the new white gravel a bit disconcerting, but again, I wasn’t worried.  Nutmeg really doesn’t care what’s under her feet.  Back at the barn, Nutmeg slept through the braiding process and then it was off to bed for me.

My dear husband managed to arrive Saturday morning just in time to be the “Stud Man.”  He truly is my right hand at events and while I used to do everything myself quite happily, I cringed at the thought of trying to get through an event without his help.  Our dressage warm-up began well, but when we switched locations I got a bit tense and we lost our focus.  In true Nutmeg style, we marched right by the blue pop-up tent for the dressage judges.  The tree line, however, proved to be slightly disconcerting.  We put in a mediocre test.  I didn’t ride my figures precisely and everything was just a bit sloppy.  The upside was our canter work really has improved.  It’s still not great, but I didn’t feel I was riding a gal-lumping runaway elephant.  We also had a nearly square halt at the end, much improved from our stop, spraddle and swing sideways from earlier in the year.

Cross Country came quicker than I’m used to, but thankfully before it got terribly hot.  Warm-up was straight forward and we left the start-box in fine form.  Then the horse eating bushy tombstone monster fence loomed up into Nutmeg’s sight line.  The conversation went something like this. (Yes, I talk to my horses and pretend they talk back). 

Nutmeg: La-la-la.  Gullump, gullump.  La-la-la-what the heck is that!?!  That cannot be the jump you’re pointing me at.

Me: Yes, that’s the jump.

Nutmeg (in her best valley girl impression): Oh no it isn’t.  That…is a monster.

Me: So, you’re going to be scared, huh. (at this point I probably should have started using my stick)

Nutmeg: Yep.  Nutmeg does not like that.  No go!

Me: Shucks.  You stinker.  *Kur-pop* (the whip smacking her).  Yeah, that’s never happened before, but it will again if you don’t jump.  Now go.

Nutmeg: BUT I DON’T WANT TO!

Me: To bad.  *pop*

And over we went, although not with many style points.  Nutmeg wasn’t too thrilled with the coop around the corner either, but I was ready for battle by then and over we went.  Number three also got her attention and she got one last encouraging smack.  Then we were in our rhythm and ready to go.  I was very pleased with the way she handled the terrain (not a strong suit) and rebalanced.  She was brilliantly honest down the bank and over the following jump.  I had slipped my reins down the bank and hadn’t quite re-gathered them, but over she went.  Shortly there-after I realized our earlier refusal had put us behind time by quite a bit so we picked up the pace.  It was a good question for her.  We were headed down a gradual hill with a combination at the bottom.  Time to test that newly found rebalancing skill.  It wasn’t poster perfect, but better than I had feared and we jumped through in the prescribed two strides.  Then she pulled another new stunt.  She shied at an old jump in the tall grass.  Thankfully years of fox hunting on an Arab has given me a pretty sticky seat, so it wasn’t the end of the world. 

On to the water.  She was a little looky over the first roll-top, but I was zeroed in on the water.  She was zeroed-in, but it wasn’t on the water.  We got to the spot where black met white and began an entertaining crab walk around the edge and into the decorative grass.  Apparently that made things all better and in we went.  Nutmeg actually really likes the water so I took a moment to praise her and let her enjoy herself.  About then I realized I was now way behind time, so recess was over and on we went.  We picked the pace up just a touch over the next two jumps.  Then two jumps from home my watch started beeping.  We were late.  At that point it really didn’t matter much since we had added at least 20 and possibly 40 points to our not so hot dressage score, but it was a great excuse to try another experiment, jumping with a bit more pace.  And so we did.  We kicked it up a notch for the second from home, rebalanced for the final stone wall, then let ‘er rip.  Nutmeg is the first horse I’ve evented that “let ‘er rip” means leg-on as opposed to just loosening the death grip a bit.  I honestly wasn’t sure what I’d get, but was pleasantly surprised.  I always knew she could cover ground, but boy that was fun!  We were uphill and powerful and the best part was even though we were headed straight for the barns, when it was time to slow down, she happily obliged.  So we didn’t have a foot perfect trip, but we both returned to the barn happy and confident.

After a relaxing afternoon picnic and some further hedge apple chasing, we left Nutmeg behind her fan and set off to explorer the stadium course for tomorrow.  Stadium is on the grass on a decent side hill, so I was slightly concerned about our ability to negotiate the course well.  Looking at the course did nothing to ease my concerns.  It was very twisty with some serious balance and turning questions.  I was not anticipating a pretty outcome. 

Sunday morning they changed the course a bit, making the most difficult questions much more do-able.  If I had been sitting in 1^st place on my old horse, I would have been ticked, but with a fresh perspective and a less maneuverable animal I was jumping up and down with glee.  Nutmeg was feeling a bit tired which translates to less than cooperative, but in we went.  We picked up our canter and she turned off her listening.  I was once again gullumping around on the back of a non-responsive elephant.  Sure we were going to die if I did not regain some form of control, I started growling at her, which actually worked.  We put things back together and actually finished with some nice jumps.  Growling aside, it was a much better course with better rhythm and distances than at Longview.

We’ve got a lot of work to do, but then even if you end up on top at the end of the weekend, you’ve still got work to do.  It’s always onward and forward, an endless journey toward perfection, or at least toward the next challenge.  I could have done a lot of things differently, but I’m glad I made the choices I did.  We had a great time and learned some valuable lessons.  Now if I could only solve the mystery of the suddenly spooky horse.  Maybe there’s something in the hedge apples after-all…

A Packing We Shall Go, Part 2 – The Pony Club Boxes

Pony Club taught me a lot.  However, Pony Club did nothing to counter-act my tendency toward hoarding.  At a Pony Club Rally (show), kids are judged not just on their riding performance, but on their horse management skills as well.  Part of good horse management is having what you need and knowing how to use it, so Pony Club requires each team of kids to have an assortment of items that may prove handy.  It’s a long list containing everything from bug spray to an antibacterial/antimicrobial/antiseptic scrub.  Pony Club takes a lot of grief over these lists from both the kids who can’t fathom why they’d need a one lb. roll of 12” absorbent cotton and from the parents who fund the extensive list of items.  As for myself and my weird obsession with rule following, I loved “The List” and at one point could rattle off every item on it.  Now, in addition to the items required by Pony Club for so many years, I have my own “List” of items that live in my trailer.

Top Left Hand Drawer – Spares and Repairs (thus dubbed by my mother, although her’s is filled with items that can be used to fix things and mine is filled with things to replace broken or lost items).  Spare lead rope – check (although it’s always the more expensive halter that breaks), pair of stirrup leathers and irons – check (although I’ve never needed them on my saddle, the day will come.  A stirrup leather can also double as a belt if you’re desperate).  Extra billet guards – yep, now if I’d just put them on my saddle.  Lots and lots of spare rubber bands for peacock stirrups.  Fresh stirrup pads – for showing only, then the old discolored ones go back in.  I’d like to add a spare tire, but it just won’t fit.  Keeping a spare for your horse (i.e. set of your horse’s old horse shoes) is however, very do-able and a great idea.

Middle Left Hand Drawer – Horse First Aid

The most essential items in this kit are a stethoscope, thermometer with thong, clip and petroleum jelly and Schreiners (it’s an herbal wound care spray – awesome!).  Other really good items, alcohol (wound cleaning – not drinking, although occasionally that’s called for too), 4” sterile gauze squares,  2” roll of gauze, Vet wrap, bandage scissors (you can’t have too many), 1” roll of medical tape, Bute, electrolytes, and liniment.  I also like to keep “eye goo” handy.  In my world, “eye goo” constitutes a non-steroidal triple antibiotic in a little bitty tube with a long snout so you can get it in their eye.  The non-steroidal part is really important because you do not want to put steroids in an eye that might be scratched. Other people have suggested splinting material, Banamine, and other such items, but I figure if it’s that bad, I’m calling the vet.  With what I’ve got I’ll be able to piece something together until they get to us.  Speaking of piecing things together, drawer number three…

Bottom Left Hand Drawer – Bandaging

Okay, so my bandaging supplies actually take up more than one drawer.  In drawer number three you’ll find four mid-sized puffy leg quilts and four stretchy wraps, but there is a whole other box full of wrapping goodies.  It’s up in the gooseneck because I don’t use it very often, but it is a treasure chest of wrapping goddess goodness.  It’s got sheet cotton and cheese cloth so I can make my own wraps, saran wrap for sweat wraps, flannels, a large spider wrap and additional material, should I need to make a smaller one.  There is a roll of elasticon, some more vet wrap, an ace bandage or two and paper bags.  Plus the bandage box contains handy extras like more tape, more bandage scissors, and safety pins – the great big ones.  If it can be wrapped, we can wrap it!

Top Right Hand Drawer – Utility Kit 

This is the most robbed drawer and the drawer that I have to double check the most often.  It’s also probably the most used drawer and the least organized.  The Pony Club Utility Kit includes a hammer, nails, screwdriver (I got one of those nifty ones with multiple heads stored inside), pliers, scissors (yes more scissors), knife, leather punch, thumbtacks (for which I have no use, but some people use them to hang up schedules, I use a dry erase board), duct tape (if you only carry one thing besides your horse in the trailer, duct tape is the thing to carry) and two pony club pins.  As for the Pony Club pins, I obviously don’t need those anymore, but they are a good reminder to pack extras of small things that are easily misplaced or lost…like contacts, writing utensils and medical arm bands.  I’ve added an extension cord or two, double ended snaps (for hanging buckets if you forget your cool bucket hangers), and hay string – a great big ball of hay string.  I also keep my flashlight and fire extinguisher in the utility box.  It keeps the fire extinguisher from rolling around and I always know where to feel around for the flashlight in the dark.  I used to be very bad at remembering bungi cords for the fan, so there’s some in that drawer just in case.  Finally, some more duct tape.  No kidding, I think I have three rolls in there.  You can never have enough.

Middle Drawer on Right - Tack Cleaning

This one is totally up for debate.  Seems like everyone has their favorite items, toothpaste, Lexol, you name it.  My tack cleaning kit is actually a kit within a kit.  In the drawer you’ll find a cleaning hook and a drying basket, though I rarely get them out.  You’ll also find two old gallon ice cream buckets with a lid.  These are the heart of the tack cleaning kit.  I can soak bits and stirrups in one and fill the other with my wash water.  In the mean time, they hold my Castile soap, Never Dull, a baggie of dishwashing detergent, shoe polish and an assortment of sponges and rags.  I used to carry a small bottle of oil, but it kept leaking, so now I keep my oiling supplies at home.  Who’s really going to oil their tack at a show anyway???  When I get to the show, I can easily grab just the ice cream buckets and toss them in my trunk so my tack cleaning can be more portable.

Bottom Right Drawer – Human First Aid

I’m not sure I’ve ever used anything from the human first aid kit at a horse show.  I have however robbed it on several occasions working around the barn.  Putting a nail through your finger with an air-nailer calls for at least a band-aid.  Besides band-aids, there is triple antibiotic cream, rubber gloves, sunscreen and bug spray.  To me, the rubber gloves are pointless, I’d rather touch blood and guts than put them on, but for the safety/health conscious they are available.  I’ve also tossed in some more ace wraps and a couple of those instant ice packs, plus my favorite human first aid item – new skin patches.  I don’t know what they are actually called, but they breathe like skin, yet keep water and other irritants out.  They are terrific on rubs and blisters and were a life saver when I spread-eagled an oxar and took all the skin off my back.  Of course they weren’t in the kit then.  We had to make a special trip to the store.  Now they are a permanent fixture.

That’s probably way more than you ever wanted to know about the black drawers in my trailer that double as steps to the gooseneck.  The moral of the long winded list, while duct tape and hay string will fix most things, if you want to travel with your horses with confidence and not beg and borrow when things don’t go as planned, you’re going to need a lot of stuff!