Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Monday, October 29, 2012
Aurorapedia Update
When I posted Aurorapedia on my Facebook, I was definitely not expecting to get a private message from one of my old sailing buddies, but that's exactly who got in touch with me.
Brian and I sailed together back in my Sunfish days, but we haven't seen each other in eight years or so. I remember him as the DJ with the Honda Element and I laugh about the time we got caught out on the lake in a sudden, massive thunderstorm. There was only one tiny dock nearby and there were about 40 boats. So we tied one boat to the dock and tied all the other boats to each other in a line that spanned halfway across the water. Then we all jumped from boat to boat to safety. Brian and I tethered our boats together, then hid in a gazebo while the storm blew past. I remember him daring me to climb a flag pole with my ball chain necklace on.
When he expressed interest, I replied with details and added, "I didn't know you knew anything about horses!"
As it turns out, Brian's girlfriend is a dressage rider who is doing horse rescue on the side. I stalked her out on Facebook and she seemed like a good rider with a good head on her shoulders. She was in DC, but would be returning later that night. I answered a ton of questions for Brian and told him to be in touch.
That night, after Haunted, I got in touch with Christy. We exchanged backgrounds and I laughed because, "I don't work in horse rescue any more, but here I am, on the phone with a stranger at midnight about a horse in need." Christy and I seem to have a lot of the same thoughts on a lot of important things, and the more I talked to her, the more I liked her.
I put Christy in touch with Sue, the groom, and told her to keep me posted. In the mean time, I started fundraising for the mare. The donations rolled in over night (thank you, everyone!) and thanks to a very generous donation from FoalStory, we made almost enough to buy the mare outright. Mike and I have decided to cover the difference out of pocket.
Christy went to see the mare yesterday. She found out that she had a fractured cannon bone a few years ago, but has been sound since. Christy really took an instant liking to the mare (I knew she would) and has decided to take her. The donations are going toward her purchase and fall shots.
Because of Frankenstorm over here, we're having a bit of a transport issue. We're playing it by ear, but if shit really hits the fan, Aurorapedia will come to stay with me for a few days. I plan to keep everyone posted on what happens with this girl, but for now it looks like her story will have a happy ending!
Brian and I sailed together back in my Sunfish days, but we haven't seen each other in eight years or so. I remember him as the DJ with the Honda Element and I laugh about the time we got caught out on the lake in a sudden, massive thunderstorm. There was only one tiny dock nearby and there were about 40 boats. So we tied one boat to the dock and tied all the other boats to each other in a line that spanned halfway across the water. Then we all jumped from boat to boat to safety. Brian and I tethered our boats together, then hid in a gazebo while the storm blew past. I remember him daring me to climb a flag pole with my ball chain necklace on.
When he expressed interest, I replied with details and added, "I didn't know you knew anything about horses!"
As it turns out, Brian's girlfriend is a dressage rider who is doing horse rescue on the side. I stalked her out on Facebook and she seemed like a good rider with a good head on her shoulders. She was in DC, but would be returning later that night. I answered a ton of questions for Brian and told him to be in touch.
That night, after Haunted, I got in touch with Christy. We exchanged backgrounds and I laughed because, "I don't work in horse rescue any more, but here I am, on the phone with a stranger at midnight about a horse in need." Christy and I seem to have a lot of the same thoughts on a lot of important things, and the more I talked to her, the more I liked her.
I put Christy in touch with Sue, the groom, and told her to keep me posted. In the mean time, I started fundraising for the mare. The donations rolled in over night (thank you, everyone!) and thanks to a very generous donation from FoalStory, we made almost enough to buy the mare outright. Mike and I have decided to cover the difference out of pocket.
Christy went to see the mare yesterday. She found out that she had a fractured cannon bone a few years ago, but has been sound since. Christy really took an instant liking to the mare (I knew she would) and has decided to take her. The donations are going toward her purchase and fall shots.
Because of Frankenstorm over here, we're having a bit of a transport issue. We're playing it by ear, but if shit really hits the fan, Aurorapedia will come to stay with me for a few days. I plan to keep everyone posted on what happens with this girl, but for now it looks like her story will have a happy ending!
Friday, October 26, 2012
Jazz's Stay at Cattail Farms
So I announced that Jazz moved in back in September. Then I never blogged about her. I think it's about time I updated everyone on what's been going on with the mare.
Her redeeming quality has always been that she has had a lot of training over the years and you can get her to do a lot of cool stuff, even if she doesn't exactly flow. When I ride her regularly, we do all sorts of fun things like half passes and canter pirouettes. In the last month, we've been playing around with a good bit of passage. What she lacks in animation and flashy movement, she makes up for in effort under saddle. The mare definitely knows how to try.
In the entire time that I've known Jazz, I have known her to be a well-mannered horse on the ground. If anything, she was a bit boring at home. When she settled in and adapted to life in our great big pastures seemingly over night, I just assumed we'd have a month of making progress in leaps and bounds under saddle. The six weeks would fly by and she'd go home, much improved.
It turns out that Jazz has been masking her true personality very well for several years. She is in fact not a calm, well-adjusted, or friendly horse. As we've discovered over the last six weeks, she's actually very insecure. The problem is that Jazz has lived at the same barn, in her owner's back yard, for over a decade now. Her routine has been the same for ten years. She hasn't been turned out with more than one horse in all that time, and since Dreamy's passing earlier this year, she has been alone. She has lived in the same pasture with the same run in shed; been caught by the same two people; groomed, bathed, and tacked up in the same one spot; and ridden in the same single arena, all the while sheltered from the world by a thick cluster of trees. In that environment, she was comfortable and secure. As far as she was concerned, that was the entire world and she knew it well. None of her behavior in the last few weeks has been her fault. She is a sheltered child being exposed to the reality of the wide world for the first time... at the age of 17.
None of this would really matter if she was going home at the end of the month to her familiar surroundings. Sure, there would be a period of re-adjustment, but after that life would resume as usual. Unfortunately for Jazz, and probably for her owner, she is going to a new boarding barn on November 1st. There she will have to adapt to yet another set of horses, people, and surroundings. And so I've spent an alarming amount of time in the last month teaching Jazz to build her own confidence and learn to be an actual, normal horse. It hasn't been easy.
A few days after Jazz moved in, I felt bad for her (she still hadn't really figured out the minis) and put CP out with her for company. Just two days later, she had taught the pony not to be caught and I couldn't get a hold of either one of them. CP, the world's purest definition of a pocket pony, was suddenly avoiding me in the field. I did some thinking, decided I wanted Jazz to have access to more grass anyway, and did a whole herd movement. Art has a tendency to get a bit study sometimes and Ozzy is flat out terrified of mares, even to this day, so I put the two of them with CP and the minis in the front field. I turned Jazz out behind the indoor with JR and Rue. JR's personality is that of an old Scottish gentleman. He wants his beer and a nap and that's about it. He's a calming influence on everyone and just cannot be bothered to give a damn. Rue is a total sweetheart and low man on the totem pole.
Big mistake.
The mare being there totally screwed up my herd dynamic and every single one of the boys (except Ozzy) got all worked up. Their personalities changed entirely and Rue was being flat out aggressive, trying to defend his new girlfriend. The problem is two-fold. There's the fact that Jazz has a domineering personality and is a bit high strung, sure, but there's also the fact that this is the first time a mare has stayed at Cattail Farms. Art and Rue haven't seen a mare in three years. JR hasn't seen one since at least March. Neither has CP.
I quickly realized that this mixed herd thing wasn't going to work and I went back to the original arrangement of the boys behind the indoor and the mare out front with the minis. I should have known better. When I was barn manager, I always kept the mare and gelding herds separate. This whole experience just reinforced my idea that when Mike and I get a place, the geldings will be on one side of the property and the mares will be on the other. Ideally, the driveway, barn, house, and maybe a pond and wooded area will separate them.
But the damage had already been done. Now the boys know that there's a girl on the property, and Jazz knows where the other horses live. They spent the first several days after I separated them running fence lines, screaming for each other, and staring longingly back and forth across the driveway. It was irritating and worrisome, all at once.
Meanwhile, Jazz's behavior on the ground was completely unacceptable. She was hard to catch, but I dealt with that. Once I had her in the cross ties, however, she would dance around nervously and neigh constantly and loudly. If I made her hold still, she'd paw and throw her head. Once or twice, she even lifted her front end off the ground. Bad mare!!! You're 17 years old and should know better! She'd work up a sweat before I'd even get on her, but when I'd bathe her at the end of the ride, she'd freak out about the hose, flinching every time the water hit her and running backwards every time the hose moved. The cool, calm, collected, and slightly boring horse I'd known was gone, replaced by your stereotypical 'chestnut dumb-blood mare'.
One night it was dark and raining and I rode Jazz in the indoor. Mike had come to take pictures for me, but that never happened. That night, Jazz's behavior crossed the line from insecure and annoying to flat out dangerous. I got on her in the indoor and she could hear the boys outside. As soon as my leg was over her back, she took to spinning and threatening, and then reared. I had run out of options and resorted to what I like to call a 'Come to Jesus Moment'. I got loud and demanding and, at one point, backed the mare clear across the indoor. Every time her attention came off of me, I got loud and threatening. Any time she exhibited a dangerous behavior, I reprimanded her. It only took a few minutes and it seemed to be our break through moment. We went on to have a decent ride. It wasn't beautiful, but she ignored the other horses, got on her big girl panties, and gave me her undivided attention.
That night, I emailed her owner. I started the email with, "I don't want to alarm you or make this sound worse than it is, but I also don't want you to be blind sided when you move Jazz to SREC and she's not the quiet mare you knew at home..."
I went on to explain the various bad behaviors that Jazz had displayed, then went into detail about how her insecurities were playing a part in this. I didn't want to sound accusing and say, "You sheltered and spoiled your horse and now she's a fearful brat," but I also wanted her to realize the importance of giving this horse structure, especially in the upcoming weeks.
I didn't downplay the severity of Jazz's actions, but I did offer comfort by explaining how SREC may be different. For starters, the owner won't be the one handling her most of the time, so the mare's issues will be the staff's problem. Additionally, the herd at SREC is mixed and has been for a long time, so hormones won't have so much to do with how things go. With other horses acting like it's no big deal around her, Jazz will probably settle down much faster. Finally, the lay out of a big boarding facility is probably very different from what I'm working with. There is probably a lot more space between the riding rings and the pastures, for example.
The email wrapped up with some pro-active solutions. I was up front and told her that the dressage would have to go on the back burner until Jazz behaved herself on the ground. I was worried that the words wouldn't be well received, but Jazz's owner seemed to be very understanding. She expressed her concern and disappointment in the mare, then told me not to put myself or my horses in danger. She agreed that respect for humans and good ground manners had to be of utmost importance. She wrapped up by saying she had complete faith in me and hoped that the rest of Jazz's stay would help with her attitude.
Since that point, we have seen a big turn around, and with a week left at my barn, Jazz seems to have finally accepted her role.
Now, when I call her in the pasture, she actually comes to me. The other day she actually cantered up when I whistled, something I never thought I'd see her do. On Monday, when I drove out to work with her, she actually met me at the gate at the end of the barn, like CP used to do. The days of being uncatchable are behind us. In fact, I can even blanket her out in the field without haltering her.
I still tack her up on the crossties in a stall instead of in the aisle, but now it's because she has a tendency to make a mess *ahem* while being saddled, not because of her ground manners. She still occasionally lifts a foot when I girth her, but she has stopped pawing, dancing, and screaming. In fact, she actually seems to enjoy being groomed and the process is now pleasant instead of stressful.
One Friday things really seemed to come together. C came by for her weekly ride on JR. I called and Jazz came trotting up to meet me. I put her in the cross ties and she stood like a lady while I brushed her and tacked her up. Then I left her standing while I went out to get JR. The sound of sweet silence!! When I brought JR in, he whinnied once and Jazz responded, but then they went back to being quiet and polite. C arrived and took the pony away and Jazz just stood there like nothing had happened. We went on to ride and when we were done, the mare ground tied while I bathed her. Now that's more like it!
We have, thankfully, also made progress in terms of riding. Aside from the usual dressage stuff, Jazz's owner wanted the horse to get some trail experience. There is a pretty extensive system of trails at SREC and she wants to be able to take advantage of it when the time comes. Unfortunately, Jazz has done very, very little riding outside the ring in her 17 years on the planet.
I started her out with Christine and JR and she did pretty well. She's a little spooky and unsure of herself, but she slowly started to figure out how to think for herself. I have been able to take her on a handful of trail rides by herself and, while I wouldn't recommend that her owner try her solo just yet, she has done pretty well. She does balk and refuse to move forward sometimes and she needs to learn a more appropriate spook, but she has been all around the fields and through the woods without another horse to hold her hand.
Thankfully, Mike was able to come out and get some photos of me riding the big, chestnut mare. Mostly I like the background best. Haha. Of course Jazz decided to go into heat on that exact day, but we worked through it.
Over the last week or so, Jazz has turned back into her pleasant old self. She is agreeable if somewhat aloof. Our rides have been uneventful and straightforward and she acts more like 17 years than 17 months. She seems happy to see me now and the shenanigans have mostly ceased There is still some hormonal tension in the air, but there's not a lot I can do about that. It figures that she's leaving just as she gets acclimated. I just hope it takes her less time to adjust at SREC than it did here.
Her redeeming quality has always been that she has had a lot of training over the years and you can get her to do a lot of cool stuff, even if she doesn't exactly flow. When I ride her regularly, we do all sorts of fun things like half passes and canter pirouettes. In the last month, we've been playing around with a good bit of passage. What she lacks in animation and flashy movement, she makes up for in effort under saddle. The mare definitely knows how to try.
In the entire time that I've known Jazz, I have known her to be a well-mannered horse on the ground. If anything, she was a bit boring at home. When she settled in and adapted to life in our great big pastures seemingly over night, I just assumed we'd have a month of making progress in leaps and bounds under saddle. The six weeks would fly by and she'd go home, much improved.
It turns out that Jazz has been masking her true personality very well for several years. She is in fact not a calm, well-adjusted, or friendly horse. As we've discovered over the last six weeks, she's actually very insecure. The problem is that Jazz has lived at the same barn, in her owner's back yard, for over a decade now. Her routine has been the same for ten years. She hasn't been turned out with more than one horse in all that time, and since Dreamy's passing earlier this year, she has been alone. She has lived in the same pasture with the same run in shed; been caught by the same two people; groomed, bathed, and tacked up in the same one spot; and ridden in the same single arena, all the while sheltered from the world by a thick cluster of trees. In that environment, she was comfortable and secure. As far as she was concerned, that was the entire world and she knew it well. None of her behavior in the last few weeks has been her fault. She is a sheltered child being exposed to the reality of the wide world for the first time... at the age of 17.None of this would really matter if she was going home at the end of the month to her familiar surroundings. Sure, there would be a period of re-adjustment, but after that life would resume as usual. Unfortunately for Jazz, and probably for her owner, she is going to a new boarding barn on November 1st. There she will have to adapt to yet another set of horses, people, and surroundings. And so I've spent an alarming amount of time in the last month teaching Jazz to build her own confidence and learn to be an actual, normal horse. It hasn't been easy.
A few days after Jazz moved in, I felt bad for her (she still hadn't really figured out the minis) and put CP out with her for company. Just two days later, she had taught the pony not to be caught and I couldn't get a hold of either one of them. CP, the world's purest definition of a pocket pony, was suddenly avoiding me in the field. I did some thinking, decided I wanted Jazz to have access to more grass anyway, and did a whole herd movement. Art has a tendency to get a bit study sometimes and Ozzy is flat out terrified of mares, even to this day, so I put the two of them with CP and the minis in the front field. I turned Jazz out behind the indoor with JR and Rue. JR's personality is that of an old Scottish gentleman. He wants his beer and a nap and that's about it. He's a calming influence on everyone and just cannot be bothered to give a damn. Rue is a total sweetheart and low man on the totem pole.
Big mistake.
The mare being there totally screwed up my herd dynamic and every single one of the boys (except Ozzy) got all worked up. Their personalities changed entirely and Rue was being flat out aggressive, trying to defend his new girlfriend. The problem is two-fold. There's the fact that Jazz has a domineering personality and is a bit high strung, sure, but there's also the fact that this is the first time a mare has stayed at Cattail Farms. Art and Rue haven't seen a mare in three years. JR hasn't seen one since at least March. Neither has CP.I quickly realized that this mixed herd thing wasn't going to work and I went back to the original arrangement of the boys behind the indoor and the mare out front with the minis. I should have known better. When I was barn manager, I always kept the mare and gelding herds separate. This whole experience just reinforced my idea that when Mike and I get a place, the geldings will be on one side of the property and the mares will be on the other. Ideally, the driveway, barn, house, and maybe a pond and wooded area will separate them.
But the damage had already been done. Now the boys know that there's a girl on the property, and Jazz knows where the other horses live. They spent the first several days after I separated them running fence lines, screaming for each other, and staring longingly back and forth across the driveway. It was irritating and worrisome, all at once.
Meanwhile, Jazz's behavior on the ground was completely unacceptable. She was hard to catch, but I dealt with that. Once I had her in the cross ties, however, she would dance around nervously and neigh constantly and loudly. If I made her hold still, she'd paw and throw her head. Once or twice, she even lifted her front end off the ground. Bad mare!!! You're 17 years old and should know better! She'd work up a sweat before I'd even get on her, but when I'd bathe her at the end of the ride, she'd freak out about the hose, flinching every time the water hit her and running backwards every time the hose moved. The cool, calm, collected, and slightly boring horse I'd known was gone, replaced by your stereotypical 'chestnut dumb-blood mare'.
One night it was dark and raining and I rode Jazz in the indoor. Mike had come to take pictures for me, but that never happened. That night, Jazz's behavior crossed the line from insecure and annoying to flat out dangerous. I got on her in the indoor and she could hear the boys outside. As soon as my leg was over her back, she took to spinning and threatening, and then reared. I had run out of options and resorted to what I like to call a 'Come to Jesus Moment'. I got loud and demanding and, at one point, backed the mare clear across the indoor. Every time her attention came off of me, I got loud and threatening. Any time she exhibited a dangerous behavior, I reprimanded her. It only took a few minutes and it seemed to be our break through moment. We went on to have a decent ride. It wasn't beautiful, but she ignored the other horses, got on her big girl panties, and gave me her undivided attention.That night, I emailed her owner. I started the email with, "I don't want to alarm you or make this sound worse than it is, but I also don't want you to be blind sided when you move Jazz to SREC and she's not the quiet mare you knew at home..."
I went on to explain the various bad behaviors that Jazz had displayed, then went into detail about how her insecurities were playing a part in this. I didn't want to sound accusing and say, "You sheltered and spoiled your horse and now she's a fearful brat," but I also wanted her to realize the importance of giving this horse structure, especially in the upcoming weeks.
I didn't downplay the severity of Jazz's actions, but I did offer comfort by explaining how SREC may be different. For starters, the owner won't be the one handling her most of the time, so the mare's issues will be the staff's problem. Additionally, the herd at SREC is mixed and has been for a long time, so hormones won't have so much to do with how things go. With other horses acting like it's no big deal around her, Jazz will probably settle down much faster. Finally, the lay out of a big boarding facility is probably very different from what I'm working with. There is probably a lot more space between the riding rings and the pastures, for example.
The email wrapped up with some pro-active solutions. I was up front and told her that the dressage would have to go on the back burner until Jazz behaved herself on the ground. I was worried that the words wouldn't be well received, but Jazz's owner seemed to be very understanding. She expressed her concern and disappointment in the mare, then told me not to put myself or my horses in danger. She agreed that respect for humans and good ground manners had to be of utmost importance. She wrapped up by saying she had complete faith in me and hoped that the rest of Jazz's stay would help with her attitude.Since that point, we have seen a big turn around, and with a week left at my barn, Jazz seems to have finally accepted her role.
Now, when I call her in the pasture, she actually comes to me. The other day she actually cantered up when I whistled, something I never thought I'd see her do. On Monday, when I drove out to work with her, she actually met me at the gate at the end of the barn, like CP used to do. The days of being uncatchable are behind us. In fact, I can even blanket her out in the field without haltering her.
I still tack her up on the crossties in a stall instead of in the aisle, but now it's because she has a tendency to make a mess *ahem* while being saddled, not because of her ground manners. She still occasionally lifts a foot when I girth her, but she has stopped pawing, dancing, and screaming. In fact, she actually seems to enjoy being groomed and the process is now pleasant instead of stressful.
One Friday things really seemed to come together. C came by for her weekly ride on JR. I called and Jazz came trotting up to meet me. I put her in the cross ties and she stood like a lady while I brushed her and tacked her up. Then I left her standing while I went out to get JR. The sound of sweet silence!! When I brought JR in, he whinnied once and Jazz responded, but then they went back to being quiet and polite. C arrived and took the pony away and Jazz just stood there like nothing had happened. We went on to ride and when we were done, the mare ground tied while I bathed her. Now that's more like it!
I started her out with Christine and JR and she did pretty well. She's a little spooky and unsure of herself, but she slowly started to figure out how to think for herself. I have been able to take her on a handful of trail rides by herself and, while I wouldn't recommend that her owner try her solo just yet, she has done pretty well. She does balk and refuse to move forward sometimes and she needs to learn a more appropriate spook, but she has been all around the fields and through the woods without another horse to hold her hand.
Thankfully, Mike was able to come out and get some photos of me riding the big, chestnut mare. Mostly I like the background best. Haha. Of course Jazz decided to go into heat on that exact day, but we worked through it.
Over the last week or so, Jazz has turned back into her pleasant old self. She is agreeable if somewhat aloof. Our rides have been uneventful and straightforward and she acts more like 17 years than 17 months. She seems happy to see me now and the shenanigans have mostly ceased There is still some hormonal tension in the air, but there's not a lot I can do about that. It figures that she's leaving just as she gets acclimated. I just hope it takes her less time to adjust at SREC than it did here.
Aurorapedia: Urgent
The grooms called me this morning. Aurorapedia's owner has had enough. If she's not gone by the first, he's Amishing her. He thinks he can get $700 for her.
I have been scrambling like a mad person all morning trying to crunch numbers. I could support a third horse through the winter, but I can't afford to do that AND pay for her, or at least, not without ripping my hair out. I was thinking of taking her on as a sale horse, but I have horses being offered to me for free left and right.I think it's bullshit, but being a standardbred makes her less marketable. Going into the winter is not the ideal time for this sort of thing and I can't jeopardize the well being of my other horses to save this one. If she was free, I'd probably take her and figure it out. If she was a gelding, I'd probably offer the guy $500 and see what happened.
A friend of mine from my sailing days surprised me by messaging me to inform me that his girlfriend may be interested in the horse. I'm waiting to hear back from them. With this storm about to hit us, they probably won't be able to take her for a few days after the first, but I can offer a layover at my farm if need be. The girlfriend is a riding instructor who does rescue on the side. I'm finding out if she's 501c3 or not.
I know that this sort of thing happens all the time. You can't save them all. On the first, there are probably a hundred horses from that farm that will go to the Amish. It just sucks that I met, rode, and liked this one in particular....
Edit: A few people have offered to raise funds to pull Aurorapedia to my farm. I am by no means begging for money and money will be refunded if the horse is not saved. Additional funds will be used to feed her and pay her upkeep until she is placed. If you feel inclined to give, great. If not, that's fine too.
I have been scrambling like a mad person all morning trying to crunch numbers. I could support a third horse through the winter, but I can't afford to do that AND pay for her, or at least, not without ripping my hair out. I was thinking of taking her on as a sale horse, but I have horses being offered to me for free left and right.I think it's bullshit, but being a standardbred makes her less marketable. Going into the winter is not the ideal time for this sort of thing and I can't jeopardize the well being of my other horses to save this one. If she was free, I'd probably take her and figure it out. If she was a gelding, I'd probably offer the guy $500 and see what happened.
A friend of mine from my sailing days surprised me by messaging me to inform me that his girlfriend may be interested in the horse. I'm waiting to hear back from them. With this storm about to hit us, they probably won't be able to take her for a few days after the first, but I can offer a layover at my farm if need be. The girlfriend is a riding instructor who does rescue on the side. I'm finding out if she's 501c3 or not.
I know that this sort of thing happens all the time. You can't save them all. On the first, there are probably a hundred horses from that farm that will go to the Amish. It just sucks that I met, rode, and liked this one in particular....
Edit: A few people have offered to raise funds to pull Aurorapedia to my farm. I am by no means begging for money and money will be refunded if the horse is not saved. Additional funds will be used to feed her and pay her upkeep until she is placed. If you feel inclined to give, great. If not, that's fine too.
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
Sunday, October 21, 2012
Rovie the Bolter
I was minding my own business, blogging and checking Facebook, when my phone rang with a number I didn't recognize.
"Hello?"
"Hi, is this Dom?"
"Yes it is."
"Hi, my name is Lauren. I got your phone number from Sandy. She says you're really good with crazy off track thoroughbreds..."
*heavy sigh* "I am..." I reluctantly admitted.
"O good. I have a crazy off track thoroughbred and I really love him so it would be great if we could get the crazy out of him."
And so I wound up hearing about Royal Vision, aka Rovi. This time last year, Rovi was still racing. Looking back, his owner says that she should have given him more time off before starting him as a riding horse, but you can't change the past. You can only move forward.
Originally, Rovi was bought as a potential husband horse. He was easy to handle and very, very quiet. So much so that they're now wondering if he was initially drugged.
As it turns out, Rovi is a smart horse with a lot of talent and good looks to boot. He has made amazing progress in the ring. His owner schools him regularly in dressage and he is jumping up to three feet consistently.
However, Rovi has one major downfall. Outside of the ring, he has developed a nasty bolting habit. He grabs the bit in his teeth and takes off. Nobody has been able to prevent him from bolting and once he's in a gallop, there's no stopping him. His owner has come off of him a few times and he has hurt a few people along the way.
Lauren is a very capable rider and she wants a well rounded horse. She is very understanding of the fact that retraining a racehorse is a process and won't happen over night. She has been working hard and taking her time, and she has other horses that she can ride in the meantime, including a four year old OTTB who she takes on hunter paces. She is also realistic and knows when it's time to ask for help.
I called Sandy when I was done setting up an appointment, just to see how bad this horse really was. Sandy's thoughts on the matter were, "I'm glad she called you. Rovi is nuts and Lauren definitely needs your help. Good luck with him. Let me know how it goes, and be sure to get pictures."
Uh oh.
I asked what happens if someone tries to hold Rovi back and I was told that he just sort of ricochets back and forth like a pin ball.
"I wouldn't be surprised if he was the type to go up and over, though," Sandy warned me.
I opted to wear my crash vest just in case.
On Thursday evening, I went up for my evaluation ride. Lauren and her dogs met me at the barn. She was pleasant and welcoming and I could tell right away that she's a well-informed horse owner. Then I met Rovi. I'm not a sucker for thoroughbreds, but I can see why she wants to keep this horse. He's tall, dark, and well put together, with a handsome face and intelligent eye. At the very least, he's a good looking horse. He's also bigger than I expected him to be.
We chatted about goals and methods, my history, her history, and Rovi's background while she tacked him up. She told me that she usually rides him in a standing martingale and I told her I would prefer to ride without one.
"It's your call," she said, removing the tie down, "but I will warn you that there have been a few times that he's hit the end of it. I don't know that he wouldn't rear."
"If he rears, I'll handle it," I told her, trying not to sound dismissive. "I'd rather he be able to get his head up than he feel restrained, and I'll need to be able to give him full range of motion for some of this."
I led Rovi up the hill to the riding area while Lauren ran inside to get a camera (you know, just in case). The riding ring is a large, flat paddock at the top of the hill, and Rovi seemed more than comfortable there. I hopped on him from the ground and gave him a minute to walk around. Then I installed my 'parking brake' while explaining the concept to Lauren and theorizing about how our ride would go.
A few minutes later I declared that I was ready to head out on the trail, where the bolting action occurs.
Lauren looked surprised. "Are you sure you don't want to ride him in here some more? Maybe walk, trot, and canter him around a bit?"
I politely declined. "You don't have a problem riding him in here," I reasoned. "Let's tackle the actual issue. I don't want to waste your time. I want to see what he does and why."
She agreed and we headed out the back gate in the pasture. I asked a series of questions about Rovi's MO, trying to gauge what kind of ride I was in for. So far, the horse seemed alert, but relaxed. He was giving me no indication that he might do anything naughty. That in and of itself was a bit alarming. Horses who misbehave because they're spooky are usually easy to fix. Horses who act out for other reasons are a little trickier to figure out and resolve.
As it turns out, Rovi had accidentally figured out that bolting was a good way to scare the humans. It had become a habit. In fact, it was so much of a habit, that Lauren could tell me exactly what spot he was most likely to do it in. She agreed to walk me out to the location and give me a heads up on when to expect the worst.
What I didn't realize is that Rovi's preferred bolting spot was pretty much the worst case scenario. For some reason, I was expecting the issue to be in a big open field or in a particular stretch of wooded trail. In fact, it was a grassy lane between a corn field and a relatively busy road. Worse, the grass sloped down to the road. Lauren warned me that Rovi had in fact bolted right onto the pavement in the past. Of course, the surface of the road was the slickest type of asphalt they make, and this adventure wouldn't be complete without a hairpin turn at one end of the corn field and a blind, wooded, down hill section at the other.
I gulped when I saw what I would be working with. The behavior of the horse was no longer my main concern. The lay of the land was.
Unfortunately, this is the only way to get to the trails from Lauren's barn, and if Rovi's going to stay and be a well-rounded horse, he needs to get over it. The only way to tackle this issue is head on. That didn't make it any less intimidating. The owner wasn't kidding when she said this was a dangerous situation.
"So basically you get to the end of the corn field and turn toward home, and any moment after that he's liable to bolt," Lauren informed me. I nodded and rode toward the problem spot.
All the way out across the trails, I practiced the parking brake I'd introduced in the ring. Rovi is a smart horse and seemed to get the concept right away. We even got to test it in a less-than-relaxed situation when a herd of deer trampled through the brush next to us, and startled Rovi pretty badly. He jumped sideways, but didn't take off. This clearly wasn't going to be a spooking issue.
As we rode down the grassy stretch away from home, I could feel the tension building. Rovi flexed all his muscles, arched his neck, and jigged, prancing sideways and tossing his head. I stopped him and made him wait. A few repetitions in, he finally relaxed and I let him move out to a trot, figuring I'd reward his good behavior with what he wants most. But when I asked Rovi to move out, he threw a big buck and jigged sideways again.
"Sorry, bub, but you just lost your trotting privileges," I patted him.
The biggest issue with this particular stretch of trail is that it rendered my parking brake pretty much obsolete. The beauty of that exercise is that it takes the horse's forward motion and diverts it into a spin, which is easier to control and sit out, until the horse stops moving. Unfortunately, spinning on a slippery slope beside traffic was not going to be even remotely safe.
Still, I couldn't have Rovi grabbing the bit in his teeth and making a run for it without steering or brakes. I can stay on a galloping horse all day, but it doesn't help either of us to get hit by a truck or fall on slick pavement. I could feel that if I let this horse bolt, I probably wouldn't be able to stop him. It would be a great before video, but I might not be alive at the end of it. This was going to turn into a preventative thing. The goal was not to let Rovi take off in the first place.
Instead of bending Rovi around in a circle, like I usually do, I started to work on suppling his neck while moving on a straight line. Then I worked on making him stand calmly facing away from home. His mind was obviously going a million miles a minute and I could hear him thinking, "Turn around. This is where we turn around. Just let me turn around!! Run, run, run, run, run..." The first time I asked him to stand still, he backed up and threw his head and threatened to rear. The more times I repeated the exercise, the faster he held still, and the longer he held it.
Eventually, I got to the end of the field, took a deep breath, and turned Rovi around. Instantly, he went tense. He didn't bolt, but it wasn't for lack of wanting to. I started to suspect that he really just wanted to rush home. The racehorse training was telling him to run, but the dressage training was telling him to wait for a cue to do so. He was basically waiting for the starting bell. Only, in his mind, every little thing in the world around us was the starting bell.
"Car! That must mean run. Your leg brushed me. That must mean run. CORN JUST RUSTLED. That DEFINITELY means run!!!"
As soon as Rovi thought about taking off, I turned him around and made him face away from home. He was pissed and backed up, threatening to rear. When he finally gave up and relaxed, I turned him back toward home. I'd found an effective way to stop him from taking off. After all, it's pretty hard to bolt backwards, and he had no interest in galloping further away from the barn.
After a few repeats, Rovi started to get really frustrated. I obviously wasn't gong to let him have his way, and he just plain couldn't stand it. He seemed to realize that bolting wasn't going to happen, so he started to pull all sorts of other tricks out of his bag. He jigged, he threw his head, he locked his neck and moved sideways into the road. Every time he acted up, I turned him away from home and waited. When he started to move into the road, I did the counter intuitive thing and bent him toward the street instead of turning him away from it. His dressage kicked in and he leg yielded back onto the grass. Lauren looked impressed.
It was a long, exhausting ride back up the corn field, but Rovi didn't manage to get away from me. I finally had enough of a handle on the situation to be able to explain to Lauren what I was doing.
As he backed towards home, I told her, "Backing up and threatening me is obviously not ideal, but it's not an outright dangerous behavior. He has shown us that he has a dangerous habit and that is the priority. After we resolve that, we can work on all the smaller bad things, but until he stops thinking about taking off on me, I don't really care if he jigs or moves sideways, or backs up." She nodded in agreement.
There were a few times when Rovi backed me into the street, and I finally crossed the road with him to where the ground was flatter and there was more space. The scariest moment in our ride was when I heard a fleet of sport bikes revving in the distance. The telltale whine of the engines grew closer and I was really afraid they would come whipping around the corner, unaware of me or the horse I was on. Thankfully, the whine died down. They had taken a different road. Phew! There was also the BMW that came flying down the road with no intentions of stopping, but Lauren put an end to that by walking right into the road and stopping him herself. I was glad she was there.
When we got to the end of the cornfield closest to home, Rovi was still pretty worked up. He had stopped trying to bolt, but he was still very antsy to get home. I parked him on a flat patch of grass and waited. We hung out there, ignoring him, until he finally relaxed and took a deep breath. Then, and only then, I let the reins slide and crossed the street, back to Lauren's property.
We ended on a good note and Rovi walked quietly the rest of the way home. It was time to give Lauren my evaluation of her horse.
"So I think you have a very nice horse with a lot of potential who, obviously, has a very bad bolting habit. And I do think it's as bad as you told me it was. You are clearly the type of person who has a clue, and from what I gather, you are a good rider. I don't think you're over reacting, and I do think I would have been in big trouble if it wasn't for a couple things today. I don't think I could have stopped him if he managed to take off on me and I don't think I could have prevented him from doing it if it wasn't for the ring work you've done with him. If you hadn't prepared me as well as you did, we would have had a major problem. The unfortunate thing is that where he persistently bolts is pretty much the worst possible place he could pick.
"I do think I can help you and him and resolve this issue. I think the key to fixing this habit is to be preventative about it until he doesn't think of doing it any more. My plan for a horse like this would be to do exactly what we did today as many times as it takes for it to be a non issue. Just walk to the end of the cornfield and walk back until he doesn't think about bolting any more. Then, and only then, we'd do the same at the trot, and then the canter. Once I can ride him at whatever gait I pick without an issue, I'd put you on him and coach you on how to ride him through all this.
"What I think you need is basically a body on his back that can prevent him from bolting until the bolt is no longer on his mind. That body appears to be me. My homework to you would be to keep doing what you've been doing because the ring work you're doing with him gives me the tools I need to effectively prevent the bolt."
Lauren asked me if I'd be comfortable riding him without a ground person and I told her no. I do want someone there to potentially call 911 if I hit the ground, and to catch the loose horse if it comes to that.
When we reached the barn and I dismounted, I told Lauren to feel Rovi. The only thing we did was walk for about 45 minutes, but the horse was hot and damp. He's physically fit and raring to go, but not being allowed to run for home had mentally exhausted him and he was puffing. I mentioned to Lauren that the horse is 8, but you have to treat him like he came off the track as a three year old, not a seven year old. He basically has the brain of a three and a half year old at this point, and baby steps are important. He may be capable of jumping three feet and showing in the dressage ring, but his brain still has some catching up to do.
At the barn, I met Lauren's husband, who seemed thoroughly impressed that I had ridden the infamous Rovi out in the open and through his notorious problem spot and not only hadn't died, but hadn't let him take off on me either. I'm going back on a weekly basis until further notice. Here's hoping I never have to experience that bolt!
"Hello?"
"Hi, is this Dom?"
"Yes it is."
"Hi, my name is Lauren. I got your phone number from Sandy. She says you're really good with crazy off track thoroughbreds..."
*heavy sigh* "I am..." I reluctantly admitted.
"O good. I have a crazy off track thoroughbred and I really love him so it would be great if we could get the crazy out of him."
And so I wound up hearing about Royal Vision, aka Rovi. This time last year, Rovi was still racing. Looking back, his owner says that she should have given him more time off before starting him as a riding horse, but you can't change the past. You can only move forward.
Originally, Rovi was bought as a potential husband horse. He was easy to handle and very, very quiet. So much so that they're now wondering if he was initially drugged.
As it turns out, Rovi is a smart horse with a lot of talent and good looks to boot. He has made amazing progress in the ring. His owner schools him regularly in dressage and he is jumping up to three feet consistently.
However, Rovi has one major downfall. Outside of the ring, he has developed a nasty bolting habit. He grabs the bit in his teeth and takes off. Nobody has been able to prevent him from bolting and once he's in a gallop, there's no stopping him. His owner has come off of him a few times and he has hurt a few people along the way.
Lauren is a very capable rider and she wants a well rounded horse. She is very understanding of the fact that retraining a racehorse is a process and won't happen over night. She has been working hard and taking her time, and she has other horses that she can ride in the meantime, including a four year old OTTB who she takes on hunter paces. She is also realistic and knows when it's time to ask for help.
 |
| Heading out into the open with Rovi. |
Uh oh.
I asked what happens if someone tries to hold Rovi back and I was told that he just sort of ricochets back and forth like a pin ball.
"I wouldn't be surprised if he was the type to go up and over, though," Sandy warned me.
I opted to wear my crash vest just in case.
On Thursday evening, I went up for my evaluation ride. Lauren and her dogs met me at the barn. She was pleasant and welcoming and I could tell right away that she's a well-informed horse owner. Then I met Rovi. I'm not a sucker for thoroughbreds, but I can see why she wants to keep this horse. He's tall, dark, and well put together, with a handsome face and intelligent eye. At the very least, he's a good looking horse. He's also bigger than I expected him to be.
We chatted about goals and methods, my history, her history, and Rovi's background while she tacked him up. She told me that she usually rides him in a standing martingale and I told her I would prefer to ride without one.
"It's your call," she said, removing the tie down, "but I will warn you that there have been a few times that he's hit the end of it. I don't know that he wouldn't rear."
"If he rears, I'll handle it," I told her, trying not to sound dismissive. "I'd rather he be able to get his head up than he feel restrained, and I'll need to be able to give him full range of motion for some of this."
I led Rovi up the hill to the riding area while Lauren ran inside to get a camera (you know, just in case). The riding ring is a large, flat paddock at the top of the hill, and Rovi seemed more than comfortable there. I hopped on him from the ground and gave him a minute to walk around. Then I installed my 'parking brake' while explaining the concept to Lauren and theorizing about how our ride would go.
A few minutes later I declared that I was ready to head out on the trail, where the bolting action occurs.
Lauren looked surprised. "Are you sure you don't want to ride him in here some more? Maybe walk, trot, and canter him around a bit?"
 |
| Explaining as I go. |
She agreed and we headed out the back gate in the pasture. I asked a series of questions about Rovi's MO, trying to gauge what kind of ride I was in for. So far, the horse seemed alert, but relaxed. He was giving me no indication that he might do anything naughty. That in and of itself was a bit alarming. Horses who misbehave because they're spooky are usually easy to fix. Horses who act out for other reasons are a little trickier to figure out and resolve.
As it turns out, Rovi had accidentally figured out that bolting was a good way to scare the humans. It had become a habit. In fact, it was so much of a habit, that Lauren could tell me exactly what spot he was most likely to do it in. She agreed to walk me out to the location and give me a heads up on when to expect the worst.
What I didn't realize is that Rovi's preferred bolting spot was pretty much the worst case scenario. For some reason, I was expecting the issue to be in a big open field or in a particular stretch of wooded trail. In fact, it was a grassy lane between a corn field and a relatively busy road. Worse, the grass sloped down to the road. Lauren warned me that Rovi had in fact bolted right onto the pavement in the past. Of course, the surface of the road was the slickest type of asphalt they make, and this adventure wouldn't be complete without a hairpin turn at one end of the corn field and a blind, wooded, down hill section at the other.
I gulped when I saw what I would be working with. The behavior of the horse was no longer my main concern. The lay of the land was.
Unfortunately, this is the only way to get to the trails from Lauren's barn, and if Rovi's going to stay and be a well-rounded horse, he needs to get over it. The only way to tackle this issue is head on. That didn't make it any less intimidating. The owner wasn't kidding when she said this was a dangerous situation.
"So basically you get to the end of the corn field and turn toward home, and any moment after that he's liable to bolt," Lauren informed me. I nodded and rode toward the problem spot.
All the way out across the trails, I practiced the parking brake I'd introduced in the ring. Rovi is a smart horse and seemed to get the concept right away. We even got to test it in a less-than-relaxed situation when a herd of deer trampled through the brush next to us, and startled Rovi pretty badly. He jumped sideways, but didn't take off. This clearly wasn't going to be a spooking issue.
As we rode down the grassy stretch away from home, I could feel the tension building. Rovi flexed all his muscles, arched his neck, and jigged, prancing sideways and tossing his head. I stopped him and made him wait. A few repetitions in, he finally relaxed and I let him move out to a trot, figuring I'd reward his good behavior with what he wants most. But when I asked Rovi to move out, he threw a big buck and jigged sideways again.
"Sorry, bub, but you just lost your trotting privileges," I patted him.
 |
| Rovi's handsome head, stolen from FB. |
Still, I couldn't have Rovi grabbing the bit in his teeth and making a run for it without steering or brakes. I can stay on a galloping horse all day, but it doesn't help either of us to get hit by a truck or fall on slick pavement. I could feel that if I let this horse bolt, I probably wouldn't be able to stop him. It would be a great before video, but I might not be alive at the end of it. This was going to turn into a preventative thing. The goal was not to let Rovi take off in the first place.
Instead of bending Rovi around in a circle, like I usually do, I started to work on suppling his neck while moving on a straight line. Then I worked on making him stand calmly facing away from home. His mind was obviously going a million miles a minute and I could hear him thinking, "Turn around. This is where we turn around. Just let me turn around!! Run, run, run, run, run..." The first time I asked him to stand still, he backed up and threw his head and threatened to rear. The more times I repeated the exercise, the faster he held still, and the longer he held it.
Eventually, I got to the end of the field, took a deep breath, and turned Rovi around. Instantly, he went tense. He didn't bolt, but it wasn't for lack of wanting to. I started to suspect that he really just wanted to rush home. The racehorse training was telling him to run, but the dressage training was telling him to wait for a cue to do so. He was basically waiting for the starting bell. Only, in his mind, every little thing in the world around us was the starting bell.
"Car! That must mean run. Your leg brushed me. That must mean run. CORN JUST RUSTLED. That DEFINITELY means run!!!"
As soon as Rovi thought about taking off, I turned him around and made him face away from home. He was pissed and backed up, threatening to rear. When he finally gave up and relaxed, I turned him back toward home. I'd found an effective way to stop him from taking off. After all, it's pretty hard to bolt backwards, and he had no interest in galloping further away from the barn.
After a few repeats, Rovi started to get really frustrated. I obviously wasn't gong to let him have his way, and he just plain couldn't stand it. He seemed to realize that bolting wasn't going to happen, so he started to pull all sorts of other tricks out of his bag. He jigged, he threw his head, he locked his neck and moved sideways into the road. Every time he acted up, I turned him away from home and waited. When he started to move into the road, I did the counter intuitive thing and bent him toward the street instead of turning him away from it. His dressage kicked in and he leg yielded back onto the grass. Lauren looked impressed.
It was a long, exhausting ride back up the corn field, but Rovi didn't manage to get away from me. I finally had enough of a handle on the situation to be able to explain to Lauren what I was doing.
 |
| Lauren and Rovi in the indoor. |
There were a few times when Rovi backed me into the street, and I finally crossed the road with him to where the ground was flatter and there was more space. The scariest moment in our ride was when I heard a fleet of sport bikes revving in the distance. The telltale whine of the engines grew closer and I was really afraid they would come whipping around the corner, unaware of me or the horse I was on. Thankfully, the whine died down. They had taken a different road. Phew! There was also the BMW that came flying down the road with no intentions of stopping, but Lauren put an end to that by walking right into the road and stopping him herself. I was glad she was there.
When we got to the end of the cornfield closest to home, Rovi was still pretty worked up. He had stopped trying to bolt, but he was still very antsy to get home. I parked him on a flat patch of grass and waited. We hung out there, ignoring him, until he finally relaxed and took a deep breath. Then, and only then, I let the reins slide and crossed the street, back to Lauren's property.
We ended on a good note and Rovi walked quietly the rest of the way home. It was time to give Lauren my evaluation of her horse.
"So I think you have a very nice horse with a lot of potential who, obviously, has a very bad bolting habit. And I do think it's as bad as you told me it was. You are clearly the type of person who has a clue, and from what I gather, you are a good rider. I don't think you're over reacting, and I do think I would have been in big trouble if it wasn't for a couple things today. I don't think I could have stopped him if he managed to take off on me and I don't think I could have prevented him from doing it if it wasn't for the ring work you've done with him. If you hadn't prepared me as well as you did, we would have had a major problem. The unfortunate thing is that where he persistently bolts is pretty much the worst possible place he could pick.
"I do think I can help you and him and resolve this issue. I think the key to fixing this habit is to be preventative about it until he doesn't think of doing it any more. My plan for a horse like this would be to do exactly what we did today as many times as it takes for it to be a non issue. Just walk to the end of the cornfield and walk back until he doesn't think about bolting any more. Then, and only then, we'd do the same at the trot, and then the canter. Once I can ride him at whatever gait I pick without an issue, I'd put you on him and coach you on how to ride him through all this.
"What I think you need is basically a body on his back that can prevent him from bolting until the bolt is no longer on his mind. That body appears to be me. My homework to you would be to keep doing what you've been doing because the ring work you're doing with him gives me the tools I need to effectively prevent the bolt."
Lauren asked me if I'd be comfortable riding him without a ground person and I told her no. I do want someone there to potentially call 911 if I hit the ground, and to catch the loose horse if it comes to that.
When we reached the barn and I dismounted, I told Lauren to feel Rovi. The only thing we did was walk for about 45 minutes, but the horse was hot and damp. He's physically fit and raring to go, but not being allowed to run for home had mentally exhausted him and he was puffing. I mentioned to Lauren that the horse is 8, but you have to treat him like he came off the track as a three year old, not a seven year old. He basically has the brain of a three and a half year old at this point, and baby steps are important. He may be capable of jumping three feet and showing in the dressage ring, but his brain still has some catching up to do.
At the barn, I met Lauren's husband, who seemed thoroughly impressed that I had ridden the infamous Rovi out in the open and through his notorious problem spot and not only hadn't died, but hadn't let him take off on me either. I'm going back on a weekly basis until further notice. Here's hoping I never have to experience that bolt!
Saturday, October 20, 2012
How I Trailer Load
People frequently ask me how I teach horses to trailer load. That's a loaded question. (Get it? Haha.) I do recommend that anyone with a problematic trailer loader hires a professional. Trailer loading is hard to teach and feel is very important for the process. When done improperly, it can be dangerous and can teach the horse a slew of bad habits that can take a lifetime to undo. With that disclaimer aside, I am happy to explain my method.
The first thing you have to understand if you are going to tackle this with a horse is that horses learn from the release of pressure. Above all else, horses want us to leave them alone. This is why our aids work so well. You kick to make a horse move forward. When the horse moves forward, you stop kicking. You pull the reins to make a horse stop. When the horse stops, you release the reins. The idea with pressure-release training is that you can gradually decrease the amount of pressure it takes to get the horse to produce the desired result. For example, you go from kicking your horse and clucking to simply squeezing your legs or simply clucking. Same thing with the whoa. You start by pulling back on the reins, leaning back, and saying 'whoa'. Eventually you can just squeeze your hands a little bit and the horse stops. After that you can stop the horse just by shifting your weight or saying 'whoa'.
The key to all of this is releasing at the correct moment. The second the horse does the right thing, the release must be immediate. If you wait too long, you've missed your chance and the horse hasn't learned anything. This is how horses get hard mouths or dead sides. People use too much pressure for too long and the horse learns to ignore anything less than that. The point at which you release is the point at which the horse learns the cue. That sort of thing takes feel and practice and is why I make the big bucks doing this (and why simply reading this entry and watching this video probably won't be the insta-fix some people are hoping for).
The next thing you have to consider with trailer loading is that the horse isn't going to understand what the trailer is or why he has to go in it. The horse doesn't think, "I like to trail ride. If I get in this box, we'll get to go trail riding. Mom is pulling on my head so she must want me to go in the box." All of that is way too abstract for a horse's brain. I like to make things much, much simpler than that. When I trailer load a horse, I'm not thinking 'get in the trailer'. I'm thinking 'step forward'. 'Forward' is a much simpler concept for a horse to get than 'get in the box and go somewhere'.
The final thing about my method is that I like to teach all horses to not just load, but to self load. Sure, it's an impressive trick to pull out of your sleeve, and it's great for impressing people at shows. It's also the lazy man's way out because it means less work and less walking for the human. There's the fact that it's safer, too. You don't end up crammed between a horse and a divider or a horse and a chest bar or, heaven forbid, a horse and another horse. But none of that is why I teach them all to self load. The reason I teach them to self load is because it gives the owner a back up plan. If your horse normally self loads and there's a glitch and he doesn't want to go in by himself, you can back it down a notch and lead him in like a normal horse. If your horse just loads like a normal horse because that's 'good enough' and there's a glitch, what other options do you have???
To recap: this means I need a forward cue that the horse understands and respects and it has to be a cue that I can give the horse while either standing in front of him or standing next to him. Pulling on the horse's head is not very effective. You are never going to out-pull a thousand pound animal. You are also not going to pull a horse forward while standing next to him.
As with everything else, I like to make the right answer easy and the wrong answer annoying. I don't ever try to be scary or forceful or painful. Just annoying.
So what is an annoying forward cue that I can give the horse regardless of where I'm standing? It's so simple that many of my clients facepalm over not having thought of it themselves. I simply tap the horse on the shoulder with a dressage whip until he does the right thing and moves forward. I start this cue by directing the horse's head forward with the halter and lead rope while tapping him on the shoulder. When he moves forward, I immediately stop tapping. I start by teaching this cue nowhere near the trailer so I'm not overwhelming the horse with too much stimulation. If you have a horse who is truly wigged out by trailers, I'd start by doing it somewhere out of sight of the trailer. If your horse is just stubborn or green to trailers, but not fearful, you can do it just behind the trailer.
After a bit, the cue turns into me tapping the horse on the shoulder without pulling on his head at all. The idea is that he moves forward for the cue, not because I'm pulling him. Once that's established, we do it with me standing on the ramp (or in the case of a step up, in the trailer).
There is a process to fading out the whip part of the equation. Every time I apply the cue, I start simply by clucking. When the horse doesn't move forward, I point the whip at his shoulder. When he still doesn't move forward, I tap him lightly. The pressure of the tap increases until the horse gives me some indication that the whip is annoying him. Some horses are very sensitive and just a tickle will do. Other horses, like the one in the video below, need a little more pressure.
As soon as the horse moves forward, I release all pressure. This means no tapping, no pointing the whip, and NO CLUCKING. People are tempted to keep tapping the horse as he moves forward, thinking it'll keep the momentum up and sort of rocket the horse the rest of the way into the trailer. All that does is desensitize the horse to the tapping or the clucking or the waving.
Additionally, the greater the effort on the horse's part, the longer I allow them to 'reset'. So if a horse stops moving backwards, I'll pause for a second, but if the horse takes three giant steps up the ramp, I'll leave him alone for a while longer.
From there, it's a process of rinse and repeat. So long as the horse is giving the wrong answer (backing up, turning sideways, rearing, kicking out, whatever) I keep tapping with steady, annoying pressure. I don't escalate. I don't get mad. I don't try to pull the horse forward. I wait until he runs out of options and accidentally does the right thing... straightens out, sniffs the trailer, shifts his weight forward, or takes a step. So long as the horse is making an effort, I leave him alone. The whole process is low work for me and low stress for the horse.
I let it take as long as it needs to take. The horse can back out of that trailer as many times as he needs to in order to get comfortable. The worst mistake you can make is to slam that ramp closed the second the horse is all the way in and ship him away. That screams, "HAHA! Gotcha! It's a TRAP!!!" and horses really don't like that. If you take the time to make sure the horse is happy in the trailer the first time, he's much more likely to get back in without a fuss after that. I'd rather spend three hours playing the in and out game to have the horse take less than five minutes to load after that, then spend ten minutes the first time and create weeks, months, or years of issues after that.
Generally speaking, the horses who haven't been traumatized get it pretty quickly. They put one foot on, then back off, then put two feet on, then back off, then put three feet on, then back off, then get halfway in, then back off, then get in, then get off, then get in and stay there.
I do believe in using cookies for food motivated horses, but ONLY as a reward, not a bribe. The degree of reward depends on the horse. The constant factor is that the horse has to do more than he has on previous efforts to get the treat. So if he puts a foot on for the first time, he can have a cookie, sure, but the next time he doesn't get a cookie until he puts two feet on, etc. With most horses, I provide a food reward when they're all the way in the trailer.
Once the horse is comfortable loading by following me into the trailer without the use of the whip, I re-do the entire process while standing next to the horse and sending him forward. Again, it's a rinse and repeat process until the horse gets on board by himself. The more you repeat this with consistency, the less cue you need. Eventually, all you have to do is point the horse at the trailer and cluck. Some of my trailer loading clients now have horses who will literally trot onto a trailer if you line them up straight and send them forward.
But enough rambling. Let's have a demonstration. This is a video that Tor took of me working with Cola last weekend. I want to emphasize that Cola was not a problem loader. He is simply green to trailers. This was our first session and the video is taken at pretty much real time. Tor stopped the camera periodically to make smaller clips, so we're missing a few seconds here or there, but the whole process took about ten minutes. The video is not perfect. The ramp on the trailer is old and slippery and there are a few times when Cola loses his grip. My advice would be to get the ramp re-done. Herbie also makes a very naughty appearance at the beginning of the video. She is trying to help, and we stop working with the horse long enough to leash her.
So there you have it. My trailer loading method. And for those of you who haven't seen it, here's a video of a horse who had a few sessions with me, and his 16 year old owner who I coached on my method.
The first thing you have to understand if you are going to tackle this with a horse is that horses learn from the release of pressure. Above all else, horses want us to leave them alone. This is why our aids work so well. You kick to make a horse move forward. When the horse moves forward, you stop kicking. You pull the reins to make a horse stop. When the horse stops, you release the reins. The idea with pressure-release training is that you can gradually decrease the amount of pressure it takes to get the horse to produce the desired result. For example, you go from kicking your horse and clucking to simply squeezing your legs or simply clucking. Same thing with the whoa. You start by pulling back on the reins, leaning back, and saying 'whoa'. Eventually you can just squeeze your hands a little bit and the horse stops. After that you can stop the horse just by shifting your weight or saying 'whoa'.
The key to all of this is releasing at the correct moment. The second the horse does the right thing, the release must be immediate. If you wait too long, you've missed your chance and the horse hasn't learned anything. This is how horses get hard mouths or dead sides. People use too much pressure for too long and the horse learns to ignore anything less than that. The point at which you release is the point at which the horse learns the cue. That sort of thing takes feel and practice and is why I make the big bucks doing this (and why simply reading this entry and watching this video probably won't be the insta-fix some people are hoping for).
The next thing you have to consider with trailer loading is that the horse isn't going to understand what the trailer is or why he has to go in it. The horse doesn't think, "I like to trail ride. If I get in this box, we'll get to go trail riding. Mom is pulling on my head so she must want me to go in the box." All of that is way too abstract for a horse's brain. I like to make things much, much simpler than that. When I trailer load a horse, I'm not thinking 'get in the trailer'. I'm thinking 'step forward'. 'Forward' is a much simpler concept for a horse to get than 'get in the box and go somewhere'.
The final thing about my method is that I like to teach all horses to not just load, but to self load. Sure, it's an impressive trick to pull out of your sleeve, and it's great for impressing people at shows. It's also the lazy man's way out because it means less work and less walking for the human. There's the fact that it's safer, too. You don't end up crammed between a horse and a divider or a horse and a chest bar or, heaven forbid, a horse and another horse. But none of that is why I teach them all to self load. The reason I teach them to self load is because it gives the owner a back up plan. If your horse normally self loads and there's a glitch and he doesn't want to go in by himself, you can back it down a notch and lead him in like a normal horse. If your horse just loads like a normal horse because that's 'good enough' and there's a glitch, what other options do you have???
To recap: this means I need a forward cue that the horse understands and respects and it has to be a cue that I can give the horse while either standing in front of him or standing next to him. Pulling on the horse's head is not very effective. You are never going to out-pull a thousand pound animal. You are also not going to pull a horse forward while standing next to him.
As with everything else, I like to make the right answer easy and the wrong answer annoying. I don't ever try to be scary or forceful or painful. Just annoying.
So what is an annoying forward cue that I can give the horse regardless of where I'm standing? It's so simple that many of my clients facepalm over not having thought of it themselves. I simply tap the horse on the shoulder with a dressage whip until he does the right thing and moves forward. I start this cue by directing the horse's head forward with the halter and lead rope while tapping him on the shoulder. When he moves forward, I immediately stop tapping. I start by teaching this cue nowhere near the trailer so I'm not overwhelming the horse with too much stimulation. If you have a horse who is truly wigged out by trailers, I'd start by doing it somewhere out of sight of the trailer. If your horse is just stubborn or green to trailers, but not fearful, you can do it just behind the trailer.
After a bit, the cue turns into me tapping the horse on the shoulder without pulling on his head at all. The idea is that he moves forward for the cue, not because I'm pulling him. Once that's established, we do it with me standing on the ramp (or in the case of a step up, in the trailer).
There is a process to fading out the whip part of the equation. Every time I apply the cue, I start simply by clucking. When the horse doesn't move forward, I point the whip at his shoulder. When he still doesn't move forward, I tap him lightly. The pressure of the tap increases until the horse gives me some indication that the whip is annoying him. Some horses are very sensitive and just a tickle will do. Other horses, like the one in the video below, need a little more pressure.
As soon as the horse moves forward, I release all pressure. This means no tapping, no pointing the whip, and NO CLUCKING. People are tempted to keep tapping the horse as he moves forward, thinking it'll keep the momentum up and sort of rocket the horse the rest of the way into the trailer. All that does is desensitize the horse to the tapping or the clucking or the waving.
Additionally, the greater the effort on the horse's part, the longer I allow them to 'reset'. So if a horse stops moving backwards, I'll pause for a second, but if the horse takes three giant steps up the ramp, I'll leave him alone for a while longer.
From there, it's a process of rinse and repeat. So long as the horse is giving the wrong answer (backing up, turning sideways, rearing, kicking out, whatever) I keep tapping with steady, annoying pressure. I don't escalate. I don't get mad. I don't try to pull the horse forward. I wait until he runs out of options and accidentally does the right thing... straightens out, sniffs the trailer, shifts his weight forward, or takes a step. So long as the horse is making an effort, I leave him alone. The whole process is low work for me and low stress for the horse.
I let it take as long as it needs to take. The horse can back out of that trailer as many times as he needs to in order to get comfortable. The worst mistake you can make is to slam that ramp closed the second the horse is all the way in and ship him away. That screams, "HAHA! Gotcha! It's a TRAP!!!" and horses really don't like that. If you take the time to make sure the horse is happy in the trailer the first time, he's much more likely to get back in without a fuss after that. I'd rather spend three hours playing the in and out game to have the horse take less than five minutes to load after that, then spend ten minutes the first time and create weeks, months, or years of issues after that.
Generally speaking, the horses who haven't been traumatized get it pretty quickly. They put one foot on, then back off, then put two feet on, then back off, then put three feet on, then back off, then get halfway in, then back off, then get in, then get off, then get in and stay there.
I do believe in using cookies for food motivated horses, but ONLY as a reward, not a bribe. The degree of reward depends on the horse. The constant factor is that the horse has to do more than he has on previous efforts to get the treat. So if he puts a foot on for the first time, he can have a cookie, sure, but the next time he doesn't get a cookie until he puts two feet on, etc. With most horses, I provide a food reward when they're all the way in the trailer.
Once the horse is comfortable loading by following me into the trailer without the use of the whip, I re-do the entire process while standing next to the horse and sending him forward. Again, it's a rinse and repeat process until the horse gets on board by himself. The more you repeat this with consistency, the less cue you need. Eventually, all you have to do is point the horse at the trailer and cluck. Some of my trailer loading clients now have horses who will literally trot onto a trailer if you line them up straight and send them forward.
But enough rambling. Let's have a demonstration. This is a video that Tor took of me working with Cola last weekend. I want to emphasize that Cola was not a problem loader. He is simply green to trailers. This was our first session and the video is taken at pretty much real time. Tor stopped the camera periodically to make smaller clips, so we're missing a few seconds here or there, but the whole process took about ten minutes. The video is not perfect. The ramp on the trailer is old and slippery and there are a few times when Cola loses his grip. My advice would be to get the ramp re-done. Herbie also makes a very naughty appearance at the beginning of the video. She is trying to help, and we stop working with the horse long enough to leash her.
So there you have it. My trailer loading method. And for those of you who haven't seen it, here's a video of a horse who had a few sessions with me, and his 16 year old owner who I coached on my method.
5 Miles with Dallas and Clarence
My 'problem' horse pair has really made a turn around. I missed a few sessions with them because of the rain too, but this week we got back in the saddle and hit the trails in earnest. We did five miles in just under an hour and the boys were fantastic.
We decided to cross the main road and explore over behind Emily's farm. There I discovered even more trails that I haven't had a chance to ride yet. I really think the Amwell Valley is never-ending. We trotted narrow paths in the woods and cantered open stretches in fields. Along the way we met barking dogs, harvesting equipment, and lots and lots of deer. My helmet cam battery died somewhere along the way, but I was still able to get video of Dallas conquering a tricky drop into a water crossing he'd never seen before. You'd think he'd been trail riding for years.
The ride was leisurely and uneventful and both boys did really well. As usual, I've put still frames under the cut.
We decided to cross the main road and explore over behind Emily's farm. There I discovered even more trails that I haven't had a chance to ride yet. I really think the Amwell Valley is never-ending. We trotted narrow paths in the woods and cantered open stretches in fields. Along the way we met barking dogs, harvesting equipment, and lots and lots of deer. My helmet cam battery died somewhere along the way, but I was still able to get video of Dallas conquering a tricky drop into a water crossing he'd never seen before. You'd think he'd been trail riding for years.
The ride was leisurely and uneventful and both boys did really well. As usual, I've put still frames under the cut.
Annabelle
On Wednesday afternoon I managed to put aside some time to have some horsey fun time. Christine was kind enough to invite me out to ride her friend's Belgian mare, Annabelle.
Annabelle was a PMU baby whose owners got her as a companion for their other Belgian mare. The other Belgian has since passed away. Annabelle was taught to ground drive, but was never hitched. She was also broke to ride, and that seems to be where her true talent lies. This mare, who has basically been under saddle for a year, walks, trots, and canters reliably and has even been started over small jumps. She was originally placed on trial as a lesson horse for a big name NJ lesson barn, but she proved to be a little too much horse for dead beginners. She's a good girl, but her head alone probably weighs more than your standard rider and she does tend to be a little looky. Annabelle's owners are looking to place her in the right riding home. They are not in any hurry to see her go, but they don't want to see her go to waste either.
I had heard a good bit about Annabelle before I went to meet her, and I was extremely excited to get to try her out. I used to ride a Belgian mare named Sandy when I was working at the harness track. I used to take her galloping after the racehorses were put away for the day. We made the ground shake and she provided a safe haven from my teenage woes. I haven't ridden a full blooded Belgian since. I have a massive soft spot for the breed. As it happens, they are Mike's favorite breed of horse. Our secret hope is to get a Belgian gelding for him sometime in the future.
The drive out to see Annabelle was a gorgeous one. It's a part of NJ that I haven't been to, even though it's only half an hour from the house. Along the way I discovered gorgeous views, rolling countryside, and even a covered bridge!
Apparently I really over estimated how long it would take me to get to Annabelle from Lilly's farm so I got there super early, even though I knowingly took the long way. I located the farm and decided to explore some back roads and take some pictures. After making a lap around the neighborhood, I figured I'd try my luck pulling down the driveway. I'm friendly, I figured. I'll just introduce myself and see where it goes. Worst case, I'll sit in my car for a while.
As I pulled down the driveway, I was waved over by a grinning woman in barn clothes. I rolled my window down and she exclaimed, "You must be Dom! And that must be Herbie!"
"I am, and she is!"
"I'm Carla! Go ahead and park down by the barn. You can let Herbie loose if you'd like."
I did just that. Carla and her husband were about the nicest people you could ever hope to meet and we talked about all kinds of things while we waited for Christine to arrive.
Apparently SRF's reputation precedes them and she had had all sorts of terrible experiences with them. We exchanged nightmare stories, which is how I found out that Carla knows Carolyn.
"Do you know Carolyn?" she asked me, when the subject of volunteers came up.
"Do I know her! That's where I board my horses. I also work for her part time in her clinic..."
Small world strikes again.
While we were chatting, Carla and I walked out to the pasture to get Annabelle. The farm seemed to go on forever behind the big barn and I was greeted by a herd of curious Arabians of various colors and ages. It turns out I also know the endurance rider who boards there.
I also got to meet Gracie and Lacey, a former Camelot rescue and her donkey companion. It turns out the mare is in her mid to late thirties. Every winter, she gets very stiff and achy, and Carla announced earlier this year that this winter would be the end of Gracie. That plan was shot to pieces with the addition of the donkey. Gracie immediately claimed Lacey as her own. The two are now inseparable and the mare is so happy that they can't bear to put her down so they're playing it by ear. It's the stuff of fairy tales.
Just as Carla was tacking up, Christine pulled in the driveway. It was great to see her. It has been way too long since we got to hang out... not since that disastrous hike at Cheesequake last winter. We caught up on all the latest news and Christine hopped on Annabelle to show me what she was all about. The mare may not be quiet enough for a lesson program, but she certainly had no trouble being good in the big, open front field that we were riding in. Christine showed off her walk, trot, canter, gallop, and excellent brakes, then hopped her over some cross rails and cavaletti before dismounting and handing me the reins.
I was pleased that I can still ground mount draft horses, and the second my butt hit the saddle, I was squealing with joy. Annabelle is so much fun to ride! I was worried that I wouldn't be able to get her moving forward and was prepared to take the whip from Christine. It turns out I had nothing to worry about and after a few trot circles, the mare and I were tearing around the field at a ground shaking canter. Of course I couldn't resist the urge to hop her over some baby jumps myself. She was extremely honest and comfy to jump.
"This thing needs to be a fox hunter," I declared.
"The truck and trailer are hooked up. You can take her home today," Carla half-joked from the driveway.
It's too bad I really don't need another horse because she is LOVELY.
Poor Annabelle had really worked up a sweat by the time we were done with her, but she cooled off in no time.
In the mean time, Herbie had met Carla's dogs, Muddy and Taco. Muddy was a big, white shepherd and Herbie would not stop tormenting him. She wasn't dumb enough to start anything with Taco, the Jack Russell though. That dog would have kicked her butt.
Once Annabelle was hosed off and turned out, Christine humored me by letting me take a billion photos of the whole herd. We stood on opposite ends of the pasture, sending the horses back and forth. Herbie ran between us while avoiding any actual contact with the horses. A good time was had by all.
At the end of the day, I thanked Christine and Carla for having me out and grinned from ear to ear all the way home. I've decided that I need a draft horse to call my own in the future. Meanwhile, I know a really cool Belgian mare looking for a home.
Annabelle was a PMU baby whose owners got her as a companion for their other Belgian mare. The other Belgian has since passed away. Annabelle was taught to ground drive, but was never hitched. She was also broke to ride, and that seems to be where her true talent lies. This mare, who has basically been under saddle for a year, walks, trots, and canters reliably and has even been started over small jumps. She was originally placed on trial as a lesson horse for a big name NJ lesson barn, but she proved to be a little too much horse for dead beginners. She's a good girl, but her head alone probably weighs more than your standard rider and she does tend to be a little looky. Annabelle's owners are looking to place her in the right riding home. They are not in any hurry to see her go, but they don't want to see her go to waste either.I had heard a good bit about Annabelle before I went to meet her, and I was extremely excited to get to try her out. I used to ride a Belgian mare named Sandy when I was working at the harness track. I used to take her galloping after the racehorses were put away for the day. We made the ground shake and she provided a safe haven from my teenage woes. I haven't ridden a full blooded Belgian since. I have a massive soft spot for the breed. As it happens, they are Mike's favorite breed of horse. Our secret hope is to get a Belgian gelding for him sometime in the future.
The drive out to see Annabelle was a gorgeous one. It's a part of NJ that I haven't been to, even though it's only half an hour from the house. Along the way I discovered gorgeous views, rolling countryside, and even a covered bridge!Apparently I really over estimated how long it would take me to get to Annabelle from Lilly's farm so I got there super early, even though I knowingly took the long way. I located the farm and decided to explore some back roads and take some pictures. After making a lap around the neighborhood, I figured I'd try my luck pulling down the driveway. I'm friendly, I figured. I'll just introduce myself and see where it goes. Worst case, I'll sit in my car for a while.
As I pulled down the driveway, I was waved over by a grinning woman in barn clothes. I rolled my window down and she exclaimed, "You must be Dom! And that must be Herbie!"
"I am, and she is!"
"I'm Carla! Go ahead and park down by the barn. You can let Herbie loose if you'd like."
I did just that. Carla and her husband were about the nicest people you could ever hope to meet and we talked about all kinds of things while we waited for Christine to arrive.
Apparently SRF's reputation precedes them and she had had all sorts of terrible experiences with them. We exchanged nightmare stories, which is how I found out that Carla knows Carolyn.
"Do you know Carolyn?" she asked me, when the subject of volunteers came up.
"Do I know her! That's where I board my horses. I also work for her part time in her clinic..."
Small world strikes again.
While we were chatting, Carla and I walked out to the pasture to get Annabelle. The farm seemed to go on forever behind the big barn and I was greeted by a herd of curious Arabians of various colors and ages. It turns out I also know the endurance rider who boards there.
I also got to meet Gracie and Lacey, a former Camelot rescue and her donkey companion. It turns out the mare is in her mid to late thirties. Every winter, she gets very stiff and achy, and Carla announced earlier this year that this winter would be the end of Gracie. That plan was shot to pieces with the addition of the donkey. Gracie immediately claimed Lacey as her own. The two are now inseparable and the mare is so happy that they can't bear to put her down so they're playing it by ear. It's the stuff of fairy tales.Just as Carla was tacking up, Christine pulled in the driveway. It was great to see her. It has been way too long since we got to hang out... not since that disastrous hike at Cheesequake last winter. We caught up on all the latest news and Christine hopped on Annabelle to show me what she was all about. The mare may not be quiet enough for a lesson program, but she certainly had no trouble being good in the big, open front field that we were riding in. Christine showed off her walk, trot, canter, gallop, and excellent brakes, then hopped her over some cross rails and cavaletti before dismounting and handing me the reins.
I was pleased that I can still ground mount draft horses, and the second my butt hit the saddle, I was squealing with joy. Annabelle is so much fun to ride! I was worried that I wouldn't be able to get her moving forward and was prepared to take the whip from Christine. It turns out I had nothing to worry about and after a few trot circles, the mare and I were tearing around the field at a ground shaking canter. Of course I couldn't resist the urge to hop her over some baby jumps myself. She was extremely honest and comfy to jump."This thing needs to be a fox hunter," I declared.
"The truck and trailer are hooked up. You can take her home today," Carla half-joked from the driveway.
It's too bad I really don't need another horse because she is LOVELY.
Poor Annabelle had really worked up a sweat by the time we were done with her, but she cooled off in no time.
In the mean time, Herbie had met Carla's dogs, Muddy and Taco. Muddy was a big, white shepherd and Herbie would not stop tormenting him. She wasn't dumb enough to start anything with Taco, the Jack Russell though. That dog would have kicked her butt.Once Annabelle was hosed off and turned out, Christine humored me by letting me take a billion photos of the whole herd. We stood on opposite ends of the pasture, sending the horses back and forth. Herbie ran between us while avoiding any actual contact with the horses. A good time was had by all.
At the end of the day, I thanked Christine and Carla for having me out and grinned from ear to ear all the way home. I've decided that I need a draft horse to call my own in the future. Meanwhile, I know a really cool Belgian mare looking for a home.
Friday, October 19, 2012
Lilly the Trail Horse
Hunting season is just around the corner and the Amwell Valley gets a head start on everyone else. Right now the trails are only open to horseback riding from 10am-3pm. This means that if I don't get to F's house by 2pm, I can't take anyone off the property. That combined with the fact that it's been raining pretty much every Tuesday and Wednesday for the last several weeks means that I haven't done anything with Lilly in quite some time. This week, the weather and my schedule finally cooperated and I went over to take the big, gray mare for a trail ride. I was a bit worried about what her attitude would be and whether I'd be dealing with learning loss. I took some extra precautions and walked her down the stretch of road to the neighbor's before getting on her.
I needn't have worried. Lilly actually seemed excited to see me and thrilled to be going back out on the trails. I think she has finally learned what her new job is, and she seems to love it. She went from being herd bound, barn sour, and nervous to being bold, curious, and adventurous. Best of all, I caught our whole ride on helmet cam.
We rode further than we've gone in the past, covering about three miles of trail, which doesn't seem like much, but was a pretty big deal for a horse who hadn't been off the property in four years and got a late start in her riding career (not to mention who was going solo the whole time).
But perhaps my proudest moment was our creek crossing. Remember that the first time I tried to get Lilly across water, she reared, ripped the reins from my hands, and ran home without me. Our experience this week was quite different.
The views out there were stunning and I was delighted with Lilly's attitude the whole time. It felt less like a training ride and more like a leisurely afternoon hack. Her owner is delighted with her progress and it was nice to have the video to prove it. Lilly is really starting to get in tune with subtle body cues like weight shift and neck reining. We now have a very consistent canter, which no longer features the occasional buck, and she is starting to really get the difference between the trot and gaiting. I am able to get both from her on a regular basis, a sure sign that she's really starting to relax.
Here's a video of our ride. It's definitely fall here in NJ and I'm delighted with the video quality on my new camera. For those of you without video viewing capabilities, I've stuck some still frames under the cut.
Thursday, October 18, 2012
AVTA Fall Hunter Pace
Someone recently asked me why I never post Ozzy updates any more. I replied that he's been sitting around in a field, not doing anything terribly exciting, which is true. Ozzy has been doing very well. He's sound and happy, and if you stop by the farm around 6pm on any given night, you'll find him running laps around the pasture while the other horses ignore him. I joke that he's been keeping himself in shape, just in case.
Last Thursday I took him out for a half hour hack around the farm. I hadn't done anything but groom him and give him cookies in about three weeks, but he was good nonetheless. Later that day, Jen mentioned that she was doing the hunter pace on Sunday and talked me into bringing Ozzy. I had the pace marked on my calendar, but hadn't been holding my breath on finding a horse to go with. On Friday, Christine came down for her weekly ride on JR. I took Ozzy and the two of us did a four mile ride off the farm. Ozzy was sassy, but mostly good. He had Saturday off and I went to the hunter pace hoping that I wouldn't have my hands too full.
In the mean time, I had talked Tor into coming down to join us. She and Cola have never done a hunter pace, but she's been wanting to for quite a while and she does plenty of trail riding with him at home. She talked her barn owner into letting her borrow the truck and trailer and found a friend who was willing to come play the part of crew and co-pilot. The friend, Jason, also brought a dog for Herbie to torment.
I went up to see Tor on Saturday to work on Cola's trailer loading. He wasn't bad about it. It was just a new concept to him and he was very green about the trailer in general. Tor was kind enough to video tape the session from start to finish and I had him self loading in record time. I'm hoping to get my hands on the video in the near future for educational purposes.
On Sunday Mike joined me on my morning trip to the barn. Ozzy was happy to see me and seemed to know that something fun was up. I put him in his lime green gear just as Jen pulled up the driveway with the trailer. Ozzy loaded into the step up with no issue and we were on the road in no time.
The pace was being run out of a farm that I used to ride through all the time when I boarded Ozzy in the Amwell Valley. I was excited to ride in some of my old favorite places, and especially excited to be doing it with Ozzy. Don't get me wrong. I love riding a variety of horses, but there's something about being out there with my guy that gets my blood pumping.
We parked on this scary slope and I was grateful the ground had dried pretty nicely. My little Poof demonstrated some awesome off road capabilities for a two wheel drive vehicle. Mike looked skeptical. Tor and Jen's friend, Susan, pulled in one right after the other and Tor parked alongside us.
We unloaded the horses together and I tied Ozzy next to Cola. Tor and I have been joking for years that Ozzy and Cola are not allowed to get together because all hell would break loose. Cola is basically Ozzy in a thoroughbred body and I can only imagine the shenanigans they would get into. Cola was too busy taking in the new surroundings to pay Ozzy any attention, and Ozzy, for his part, was just worried that this strange new horse would kick him and was standing as far away from Cola as possible. The horses seemed pretty indifferent to each other and I was a bit disappointed that they weren't instant BFF's.
Before long, we were tacked up, signed in, mounted, and ready to go. We signed up as the Under 18's again, something which seemed to make just us laugh. O well.
I had been worried that Ozzy would be hot and hard to handle, but he blew me out of the water with his attitude. As soon as I got on him, his ears went into Happy Mode and he seemed to say, "Yup.I remember this. This is my job."
He was awesome all day. He moved right along, conquering everything I put in his path, from water crossings to small jumps to crazy ditches that fox hunters charge through like they're no big deal. I have missed really riding this horse. He's goofy with some hilarious in between gaits, but he has such an engine on him. He is a serious power house, even when he's completely out of conditioning. Speaking of which, I guess those laps around the pasture really paid off because Ozzy surprised me with his fitness. I think he could do an LD tomorrow. We cantered and galloped almost the entire course and Ozzy got pretty lathered, but never quit or asked to slow down.
It was a gorgeous ride and I, once again, got to see parts of the trail system that were new to me. Sadly, my helmet cam died about a third of the way into the ride so I missed some of the killer views and tricky trail crossings, but I still got enough video to bore you guys to tears. I was grinning from ear to ear and laughing the whole time and the weather was absolutely perfect.
With that said, it certainly wasn't an easy ride. There was one section in particular that had my eyebrows up in my hairline. There was a steep, slick descent into a ravine with some rocks and water at the bottom, followed immediately by a large, vertical up-bank, which you sort of had to leap up from the down hill position. Of course, the whole thing was overgrown by tall weeds and scrub brush. And that wasn't the hard option either! The other option was to jump a four foot coop. No thanks! Ozzy and Cola did it just fine, but what really impressed me was the group of fearless pony club kids who charged right through there single file like it was no big thing. I miss being fearless like that!
We did hit a few snags along the way.
The first few water crossings were really an issue for Cola. He has gone through plenty of creeks and puddles, but doing it far away from home in a strange situation was pushing it for him. He didn't do anything bad, just sort of planted his feet and refused to move. All your typical horse bribing tricks (following other horses, being left alone, etc.) didn't work and I don't tell Tor what to do with her horse. She has made a ton of progress with him and they make a great team. If it wasn't for her, that horse's future would have been pretty bleak. We wanted to make it a learning experience for Cola, but we also didn't want to lose too much time on the water crossings, so Tor got off and led him through the first few times. By the end of the ride, he was a water crossing pro.
Cola was also very sassy. He did some pretend bucking and frisking and even earned some comments from the women on the quarter horses, who were very impressed with Tor's riding.
Ozzy's big issue for the day was this short stretch of road that we had to walk on. Ozzy was on his very best behavior, plodding along on a loose rein. The road surface was that slippery spray-on tar that sort of shifts under pressure. I guess Ozzy's bad conformation did him an injustice and his feet suddenly splayed out from under him. He hit the pavement like Bambi on ice and looked over his shoulder at me, startled, before he carefully got back up. It was like he was saying, "Do you still have your stirrups? You do? Ok. I'm getting up now."
"Well, he was sound," I muttered. He was stiff for a few steps after that, but walked it off without any lasting effects or road rash. Poor guy! I can only imagine how bad it would have been if he'd had shoes on. Eek!
We had an absolute blast out there. Jen was riding with Susan and Alissa so we were free to go at our own pace. We galloped the open stretches, went of course to jump some logs, and hung out in the water letting the horses play. We spent a good portion riding with two very nice women and their quarter horses, who seemed to be trail pace machines! We made really good time and if it hadn't been for those first few water crosssings, I'm willing to bet we would have placed.
As for Ozzy and Cola, they actually seemed to really hit it off. Ozzy played the part of big brother very well and Cola was playful and tolerant of Ozzy in ways that most horses aren't. By the end of the ride, they'd decided they were soul mates. Ozzy stopped at one of the check points and gave Cola a shoulder rub. At the next big water crossing, Cola returned the favor by splashing Ozzy with mouthfuls of creek water.
When we tied them at the trailer at the end of the day, they shared alfalfa cube mush out of one bucket. Tor had just said, "Who do you think will knock the water bucket over first?" when there was a telltale splash from behind the trailer. We came around the corner to both of them staring at us with their innocent ears on, like, "What water bucket? I have no idea what you're talking about."
When we got to the finish line, Mike and Jason met us with sandwiches, chips, and drinks for everyone and we spent some time picnicking in the grass before we went home.
Tor offered to give me a ride back and both horses self-loaded into her bumper pull like they'd trailered together all their lives. We unloaded them both at home and hosed them off before turning them out in the outdoor to play together. They frolicked like colts, showing off all their best moves and playing like the best of friends. It was sad to see Cola go, especially since he doesn't have anyone to play with at home. Our hope is to some day get them living together. I think it would make everyone very happy.
Last Thursday I took him out for a half hour hack around the farm. I hadn't done anything but groom him and give him cookies in about three weeks, but he was good nonetheless. Later that day, Jen mentioned that she was doing the hunter pace on Sunday and talked me into bringing Ozzy. I had the pace marked on my calendar, but hadn't been holding my breath on finding a horse to go with. On Friday, Christine came down for her weekly ride on JR. I took Ozzy and the two of us did a four mile ride off the farm. Ozzy was sassy, but mostly good. He had Saturday off and I went to the hunter pace hoping that I wouldn't have my hands too full.
In the mean time, I had talked Tor into coming down to join us. She and Cola have never done a hunter pace, but she's been wanting to for quite a while and she does plenty of trail riding with him at home. She talked her barn owner into letting her borrow the truck and trailer and found a friend who was willing to come play the part of crew and co-pilot. The friend, Jason, also brought a dog for Herbie to torment.
I went up to see Tor on Saturday to work on Cola's trailer loading. He wasn't bad about it. It was just a new concept to him and he was very green about the trailer in general. Tor was kind enough to video tape the session from start to finish and I had him self loading in record time. I'm hoping to get my hands on the video in the near future for educational purposes.
On Sunday Mike joined me on my morning trip to the barn. Ozzy was happy to see me and seemed to know that something fun was up. I put him in his lime green gear just as Jen pulled up the driveway with the trailer. Ozzy loaded into the step up with no issue and we were on the road in no time.
The pace was being run out of a farm that I used to ride through all the time when I boarded Ozzy in the Amwell Valley. I was excited to ride in some of my old favorite places, and especially excited to be doing it with Ozzy. Don't get me wrong. I love riding a variety of horses, but there's something about being out there with my guy that gets my blood pumping.
We parked on this scary slope and I was grateful the ground had dried pretty nicely. My little Poof demonstrated some awesome off road capabilities for a two wheel drive vehicle. Mike looked skeptical. Tor and Jen's friend, Susan, pulled in one right after the other and Tor parked alongside us.
We unloaded the horses together and I tied Ozzy next to Cola. Tor and I have been joking for years that Ozzy and Cola are not allowed to get together because all hell would break loose. Cola is basically Ozzy in a thoroughbred body and I can only imagine the shenanigans they would get into. Cola was too busy taking in the new surroundings to pay Ozzy any attention, and Ozzy, for his part, was just worried that this strange new horse would kick him and was standing as far away from Cola as possible. The horses seemed pretty indifferent to each other and I was a bit disappointed that they weren't instant BFF's.
Before long, we were tacked up, signed in, mounted, and ready to go. We signed up as the Under 18's again, something which seemed to make just us laugh. O well.
He was awesome all day. He moved right along, conquering everything I put in his path, from water crossings to small jumps to crazy ditches that fox hunters charge through like they're no big deal. I have missed really riding this horse. He's goofy with some hilarious in between gaits, but he has such an engine on him. He is a serious power house, even when he's completely out of conditioning. Speaking of which, I guess those laps around the pasture really paid off because Ozzy surprised me with his fitness. I think he could do an LD tomorrow. We cantered and galloped almost the entire course and Ozzy got pretty lathered, but never quit or asked to slow down.
Hopping baby jumps with the boys.
It was a gorgeous ride and I, once again, got to see parts of the trail system that were new to me. Sadly, my helmet cam died about a third of the way into the ride so I missed some of the killer views and tricky trail crossings, but I still got enough video to bore you guys to tears. I was grinning from ear to ear and laughing the whole time and the weather was absolutely perfect.
With that said, it certainly wasn't an easy ride. There was one section in particular that had my eyebrows up in my hairline. There was a steep, slick descent into a ravine with some rocks and water at the bottom, followed immediately by a large, vertical up-bank, which you sort of had to leap up from the down hill position. Of course, the whole thing was overgrown by tall weeds and scrub brush. And that wasn't the hard option either! The other option was to jump a four foot coop. No thanks! Ozzy and Cola did it just fine, but what really impressed me was the group of fearless pony club kids who charged right through there single file like it was no big thing. I miss being fearless like that!
We did hit a few snags along the way.
The first few water crossings were really an issue for Cola. He has gone through plenty of creeks and puddles, but doing it far away from home in a strange situation was pushing it for him. He didn't do anything bad, just sort of planted his feet and refused to move. All your typical horse bribing tricks (following other horses, being left alone, etc.) didn't work and I don't tell Tor what to do with her horse. She has made a ton of progress with him and they make a great team. If it wasn't for her, that horse's future would have been pretty bleak. We wanted to make it a learning experience for Cola, but we also didn't want to lose too much time on the water crossings, so Tor got off and led him through the first few times. By the end of the ride, he was a water crossing pro.
Puddle of doom!
The first creek crossing.
Cola was also very sassy. He did some pretend bucking and frisking and even earned some comments from the women on the quarter horses, who were very impressed with Tor's riding.
Ozzy's big issue for the day was this short stretch of road that we had to walk on. Ozzy was on his very best behavior, plodding along on a loose rein. The road surface was that slippery spray-on tar that sort of shifts under pressure. I guess Ozzy's bad conformation did him an injustice and his feet suddenly splayed out from under him. He hit the pavement like Bambi on ice and looked over his shoulder at me, startled, before he carefully got back up. It was like he was saying, "Do you still have your stirrups? You do? Ok. I'm getting up now."
"Well, he was sound," I muttered. He was stiff for a few steps after that, but walked it off without any lasting effects or road rash. Poor guy! I can only imagine how bad it would have been if he'd had shoes on. Eek!
We had an absolute blast out there. Jen was riding with Susan and Alissa so we were free to go at our own pace. We galloped the open stretches, went of course to jump some logs, and hung out in the water letting the horses play. We spent a good portion riding with two very nice women and their quarter horses, who seemed to be trail pace machines! We made really good time and if it hadn't been for those first few water crosssings, I'm willing to bet we would have placed.
Susan, on the badly behaved black horse, told Jen that Ozzy looked nuts and she wouldn't ride him.
It's nice to ride with a horse that can keep up with Ozzy. It was Tor's first real gallop on Cola.
As for Ozzy and Cola, they actually seemed to really hit it off. Ozzy played the part of big brother very well and Cola was playful and tolerant of Ozzy in ways that most horses aren't. By the end of the ride, they'd decided they were soul mates. Ozzy stopped at one of the check points and gave Cola a shoulder rub. At the next big water crossing, Cola returned the favor by splashing Ozzy with mouthfuls of creek water.
Hour and a half ride in five minutes.
When we tied them at the trailer at the end of the day, they shared alfalfa cube mush out of one bucket. Tor had just said, "Who do you think will knock the water bucket over first?" when there was a telltale splash from behind the trailer. We came around the corner to both of them staring at us with their innocent ears on, like, "What water bucket? I have no idea what you're talking about."
When we got to the finish line, Mike and Jason met us with sandwiches, chips, and drinks for everyone and we spent some time picnicking in the grass before we went home.
Tor offered to give me a ride back and both horses self-loaded into her bumper pull like they'd trailered together all their lives. We unloaded them both at home and hosed them off before turning them out in the outdoor to play together. They frolicked like colts, showing off all their best moves and playing like the best of friends. It was sad to see Cola go, especially since he doesn't have anyone to play with at home. Our hope is to some day get them living together. I think it would make everyone very happy.
Monday, October 15, 2012
Chesapeake Fall 80
When I did the Chesapeake Spring CTR with Spot, Mike volunteered to be one of the in-timers. He did a really good job and, shock surprise, everybody loved him. Cate asked me to bring him back in the fall to volunteer again. Mike told Cate that if she got me a horse to ride, he'd be happy to time again. A week and a half or so before the Chesapeake Fall CTR, Cate messaged me on Facebook to ask what I was doing that weekend and whether I'd be interested in riding Poe in the three-day 80. We had promised and I'd never done an 80 before so I agreed.
I was a bit saddened that we wouldn't be doing the full blown 100 (I know Poe completed the OD 100 in June so a three-day should be no problem). I found out later that the one thing Cate needed for Poe to earn his Versatility title was a three day 80.
The week before the ride, I came down with some sort of awful flu-like thing. My head was pounding, my chest was congested, and I experienced waves of nausea and fever. By Thursday night, I had gotten over the worst of it, but I was still coughing up a storm and I couldn't breathe. I was also pretty body sore. Seems like the perfect time to ride 80 miles on the world's least comfortable horse.
Mike managed to actually get a day off of work that Friday, the first day of the ride, but we both had jammed schedules on Thursday that took us late into the evening. We didn't leave our house until 9pm to make the trek down to Fair Hill, Maryland.
I thought to myself as we pulled out of the driveway, "I'm surprised Cate hasn't called or texted to see when we're coming down." On a whim, I let her know that we were on our way. Turns out it's a good thing I did! Cate had been fretting after all, but she had misplaced my phone number so she couldn't get in touch with me. I found out that she had been flat out panic stricken and was desperately trying to find someone who could ride in my place if I didn't show up. I guess she doesn't know me well enough to realize that when I say I'll be there, I'll be there.
Mike and I had borrowed the Yukon for the trip so that we'd have a comfortable place to sleep. We laid the back seats down and layered the floor with mountains of blankets. Not only was it going to be our first time camping in the Yukon; it was going to be Herbie's first ever ride weekend. When Mike pulled up the driveway in the strange car, she muttered under her breath, but when Herbie realized who it was, she was overwhelmed with excitement and got a bad case of the wiggles. The second we opened the back door and told her to 'up up', her eyes got saucer-wide and her face said, "REALLY?!?!" for about half a second before she leaped on board. She spent the whole ride down looking like she was on top of the world in her 'hotel on wheels'.
The drive down went off without a hitch and we arrived at base camp in record time, but it was still late and dark when we got there. Everyone else had already gone to sleep in preparation for an early start the following morning. Mike and I walked Herbie around and located Poe in his usual stall before climbing back into the truck to catch some sleep. Herbie blew us away with her adaptability. She just sort of looked around before practically shrugging, as if to say, "O. We live in the truck now? Ok," and curling up to go to sleep.
I slept like a rock that night and was completely well rested by the time Cate walked up and knocked on our window at 5:30am. I had missed the ride briefing the night before, but I got the gist of what I was doing. I would be riding with an elderly couple, Joanna and Bill, whom I had met casually in the past. We would ride thirty miles on the first and second days, then the last twenty on the third day. The trails were marked with ribbon and all holds were back at base camp. I would be responsible for determining the pace at which we rode, and I had to remind myself that this is CTR, not endurance.
I will say that the ride itself was rather enjoyable. The trails were lovely and I got to see parts of Fair Hill that I hadn't ridden before, which is a real rarity for me by this point. The weather was phenomenal and the views were beautiful. I told Bill and Joanna that I like to make a ride enjoyable for everyone involved. They wound up being great company and the three of us rode together in harmony, with Poe and me leading most of the way. We saw deer and foxes and hawks, and circled around properties with all sorts of livestock and historic buildings. Poe, despite his owner's flaws, is a very nice horse and he loves his job. His whole attitude is about moving along down the trail. Poe is a brilliant horse.
We rode back into base camp after the first loop, feeling fresh and energetic. Mike greeted me with a kiss over his clipboard and asked, "Did you see your dog?"
"No, why?" I had a moment of concern before I spotted her. She was tied to a telephone pole by the timing tent, fast asleep on her side in the sunshine.
Herbie was on her absolute best behavior for the entire weekend. She sat quietly on her leash during the day, mostly napping. She didn't bark once the whole time we were down there, even when other dogs pulled and barked and when horses acted up. Of course she made a great impression on everyone and made a ton of new friends. I know Herbie is a good dog, but taking her to rides is one of those things I should have done with her starting when she was a puppy. Instead, I waited until she was almost two years old. She handled it just fine all the same, which just goes to show how well adapted she is. I don't mean to sound arrogant, but she was better behaved than a lot of dogs who are at these rides all the time! It was worth it to Herbie, too, because she got scraps of food and ear scratches from lots of people all weekend. She also got to make friends with several other dogs, including a lab puppy and a fully grown Great Dane.
At one point, a guy came up to me and said, "She is such a nice dog. That is the calmest pit bull I have ever met."
I really wanted to reply, "She's really not, though. She's just restrained," but I just smiled and thanked him.
The second loop went equally smoothly. It was Friday and school was still in session. We ran across many groups of young children out by the nature center. They were very well behaved and lined up single file the second their teachers instructed them too. Unfortunately, the teachers also told them to be very quiet. It was a nice thought, but there's nothing freakier to a horse than a slew of tiny, wide-eyed predators standing in long, silent lines. I asked the children to speak up so the horses would know they were human, and they erupted into cheers of, "Hi horsey!!!" Poe, Bill's Rocky mountain mare, Spice Girl, and Joanna's Arabian mare, Breeze, all relaxed instantly.
Unlike the first loop, which was mostly rolling hills, the second loop was very technical. There was a lot of single track, a lot of switch backs, and a lot of slippery hills. We had to take it a lot slower than we had on the first loop. Thankfully, we'd gone through the first loop pretty quickly so we had no problem making good time, but it sort of shot my original plan... to take it easy for the last few miles and get our pulses down before the hold... to pieces. I made a note to myself to really move out on the second day.
The temperatures had risen and I was sweating by the end of the day, but the miles flew by and before I knew it, the first day of the ride was behind me. Poe vetted clean and I got him put away for the night before finally taking a second to grab some food for myself. I was a bit disappointed in myself. I was feeling pretty sore and worn out and ready for a nap. Even after a one day fifty, I'm usually raring to go. I guess that flu was really taking its toll on me.
I spent most of the afternoon sitting in the timer tent with Mike while he worked. Emily was there with Chotori, competing in the 100. When I offered to help her at her hold, several people gasped. Someone muttered, "That's Emily. You don't offer to help Emily! She's very independent. You wouldn't want to offend her."
"Would it help if I said I know her personally and we ride together all the time?" Sheesh!
Emily's take on the whole thing is, "Hold my horse while I go pee? Yes please!"
Seriously. I feel like I missed the memo about all the politics of CTR.
That afternoon, Mike and I went out for a drive to relax and grab some food. We stopped at the same hole-in-the-wall restaurant/bar that we ate at in the spring with Wendy. We had had a very good experience then and were looking forward to enjoying their seafood chowder. After all, Maryland is definitely the place to get good seafood!
Sadly, they had changed the recipe since the last time we were there and when we first got our bowls, we couldn't tell if the soup just had a funky flavor or if it had gone bad. We weren't planning on saying anything, but you really can't take chances with seafood and we didn't want to put anyone else at risk, so Mike very politely told the manager that the soup had an odd flavor to it. She immediately stormed into the back of the restaurant, yelling, "That's it! Who made the soup?!?!" Mike shrank back and we wondered if we'd gotten someone fired. Suddenly, everyone in the restaurant was paying special attention to us, making sure all our needs were met, and that the rest of our meal was nothing short of perfect. Mike and I don't like being the center of attention like that, but it was very sweet of them to make such an effort, and the rest of our meal really was very good.
We made it back to camp shortly after that and I spent most of my evening hand walking Poe. Because the horses at this ride are stalled, not penned, his legs were extremely stocked up. I thought Ozzy's legs got bad in a stall, but he's really got nothing on Poe. Hand walking seemed to help a bit, but he was still stiff and swollen at the end of the night.
While we were out behind the grounds, I chatted with the handful of people that I knew at the ride. Cherry, Boston Kate's adopter, was there crewing for her daughter and (new) husband, Mike, both of whom were riding very nice Arabians. I knew Harley already, but it was only my second time meeting Mike's mare, Truly.
Mike and I finished up our night by taking Herbie for a long walk behind ride camp. We took her off leash and played fetch with her until she was ready to drop. She was thrilled to be let loose and we had a great time just walking the trails at sunset and watching her wear herself out. It was good for me to work out some of my sore muscles too.
That night we went to bed early so we could be up before dawn the following day.
I was up at 5am that Saturday for day two of the 80. I spent a long time hand walking Poe before the morning vet check. Even after the swelling in his legs went down significantly, they were still pretty puffy. Thankfully, they didn't seem to be affecting his gait and he warmed up smoothly. I had switched him to the hackamore as we prepared to repeat the loops from the day before.
The second day of riding was relatively uneventful. We ran into some people walking their dogs and I was impressed with the number of people who had great recalls on their off leash canines. We saw a much less considerate church group at a camping area. They were making a ton of noise and got the horses pretty worked up when we went by. It was much warmer on the second day and the miles seemed to drag a bit.
At one point, Poe nearly dumped me at a water crossing. He was getting a drink and I was taking a chance to sponge him and get his temperature down a bit. I dropped my sponge in the water and he turned his head to look at it, ears pricked and nostrils flared. After staring at it for several seconds, he decided it was in fact going to kill him and spun violently around, attempting to bolt out of the water. I reined him in, reprimanded him, and continued sponging. Horses!
That night Mike and I stuck around camp to eat, but we went out to pick up some beers before bed. After we took care of Poe and walked Herbie, we retreated to the Yukon, which we had parked down by the tree line, far away from everyone else. A huge storm rolled in just as the sun was setting and we had a great time sitting in the back of the truck, drinking beers and listening to the rain pounding on the roof. It was by far the best part of the weekend.
Before I knew it, Sunday morning had dawned, clear and cool. I felt surprisingly refreshed and I was excited to get the last twenty miles of the ride under my belt. Poe was feeling peppy too. I almost put a bit back on him to play it safe. Breeze had had a slight issue at the vet check at the end of the second day, but she vetted clean in the morning so the three of us headed out on trail together. I was glad for the company.
The last twenty miles consisted of two ten mile loops that sort of did a figure eight back through base camp. At the half way point, we would simply trot up the driveway, circle around a cone past the vets, and trot back out on trail. There would be no final hold.
Bill, Joanna, and I were on fire that day. We had really found our rhythm and the horses were feeding off of each other. The first ten miles flew by and I got a lot of compliments on how good Poe looked as we breezed through camp, stopping long enough for me to cram some electrolytes down his throat before taking off to catch Spice Girl and Breeze. Thankfully, the most technical parts of the trail had been cut out that day and we were making good time as we approached the final stretch of our 80 mile adventure.
And then, in the last five miles, things fell apart.
About three miles out from the finish line we came to a four way intersection in the trail and followed the markers to the right, toward a big field. Suddenly, Poe stopped moving and started violently thrashing his head and neck, something I'd never seen him do before. I looked down and it took a second for my brain to fully register what was going on. A swarm of bees was completely covering the left side of Poe's neck and shoulders.
I had just enough time to think, "The next fifteen seconds of my life is really going to suck," before they started to sting us. By this point I was kicking Poe as hard as I could and yelling at him to, "CANTER, POE! CANTER!!!" but he wouldn't move. He was getting attacked and I couldn't swat him or do anything to help. Then I started getting stung too. I got stung several times on my back and shoulders, a couple times on my legs, and twice on the back of my hands, through my gloves. Then they started to sting my face before getting into my helmet. Bees were tangled in my hair and I was on fire from getting stung. I was this close to flinging my helmet into the bushes and getting disqualified.
Finally, Poe broke out of his panic and took off. I had just enough time to hear Bill hit the ground behind me, but I couldn't stop. I had to get my own horse to safety.
It turns out a bunch of hunting dogs had stirred the bees up and the 100 milers got them even more pissed when they went through. The 100's managed to get through with just a handful of stings on the horses' legs.
The hunters responsible for the dogs were sitting right around the corner, and as I went by at a mad dash, one of them said, smugly, "Those bees'll getcha."
I'm gonna fucking getcha! My horse isn't gonna kick you. I am!
As I tore up the hill, I was yelping with every sting. I'm not sure if it was from the pain of getting stung or from the horror of realizing that at any moment all these bees could sting me at once.
The hundreds heard me coming and stopped to make sure I was ok.
"Did the bees get you?" Jim asked.
"Yeah, I'm getting stung right now," I squeaked.
"You're not allergic, are you?" someone else chimed in.
"No. I'd be in big trouble if I was..."
And then the bees caught up and I started getting stung again. The whole group of us took off again together and it was several fields before we were safe. I pulled Poe up and waited for Joanna and Bill to catch up. I apologized for leaving them. Bill was covered in mud and skid marks, but when I asked him if he was ok, he smiled and said, "She just very gently deposited me on the ground. I'm alright."
Coming up the hill after the bees was probably the closest I've ever come to crying at a competition. I was just like, "I have the flu, and I have cramps, and I'm getting stung by bees, and I just wanna go hooooome!!!" ;_;
It made that ride where Ozzy broke out of camp then dumped me and dragged me up the side of the mountain before we rode 50 miles in the rain look like fun.
I did find some humor in the situation though. When I texted Mike that I got my period, he texted back, "Oh no." When I texted him that Poe and I got attacked by a whole hive of bees, he texted back, "Oh no!!!"
Thankfully, we made it to the finish line in one piece and after our ordeal, Poe vetted clean. I poulticed his bee stings, which covered his face, neck, shoulders, and chest, with a few scattered spots on his flanks and hindquarters. Mike and I decided to stick around for awards and I was thrilled that Bill earned Grand Champion with Poe and myself coming in as Reserve. I was sad when Cate kept both the ribbon and the engraved leather halter, but she paid my entry fees so I'm really not going to complain.
I was thrilled when Emily and Chotori kicked ass and got Grand Champion in the 100. Well earned!!!
Mike also got a whole thank you speech from ride management for basically over hauling the timing to become the master timer for the weekend. Apparently he really held the ride together. That's my man :)
Pretty much as soon as the awards were over, Mike and I said our goodbyes and drove straight home. I have never been so glad to leave a ride. The good news is that 80 miles, even with the flue, cramps, and bee stings, wound up being well within my physical range and I really do think I could do a one day hundred if I trained for it.
So there you have it... my first 80!
 |
| Photo ©Feather Hill Photography |
The week before the ride, I came down with some sort of awful flu-like thing. My head was pounding, my chest was congested, and I experienced waves of nausea and fever. By Thursday night, I had gotten over the worst of it, but I was still coughing up a storm and I couldn't breathe. I was also pretty body sore. Seems like the perfect time to ride 80 miles on the world's least comfortable horse.
Mike managed to actually get a day off of work that Friday, the first day of the ride, but we both had jammed schedules on Thursday that took us late into the evening. We didn't leave our house until 9pm to make the trek down to Fair Hill, Maryland.
I thought to myself as we pulled out of the driveway, "I'm surprised Cate hasn't called or texted to see when we're coming down." On a whim, I let her know that we were on our way. Turns out it's a good thing I did! Cate had been fretting after all, but she had misplaced my phone number so she couldn't get in touch with me. I found out that she had been flat out panic stricken and was desperately trying to find someone who could ride in my place if I didn't show up. I guess she doesn't know me well enough to realize that when I say I'll be there, I'll be there.
Mike and I had borrowed the Yukon for the trip so that we'd have a comfortable place to sleep. We laid the back seats down and layered the floor with mountains of blankets. Not only was it going to be our first time camping in the Yukon; it was going to be Herbie's first ever ride weekend. When Mike pulled up the driveway in the strange car, she muttered under her breath, but when Herbie realized who it was, she was overwhelmed with excitement and got a bad case of the wiggles. The second we opened the back door and told her to 'up up', her eyes got saucer-wide and her face said, "REALLY?!?!" for about half a second before she leaped on board. She spent the whole ride down looking like she was on top of the world in her 'hotel on wheels'.
The drive down went off without a hitch and we arrived at base camp in record time, but it was still late and dark when we got there. Everyone else had already gone to sleep in preparation for an early start the following morning. Mike and I walked Herbie around and located Poe in his usual stall before climbing back into the truck to catch some sleep. Herbie blew us away with her adaptability. She just sort of looked around before practically shrugging, as if to say, "O. We live in the truck now? Ok," and curling up to go to sleep.I slept like a rock that night and was completely well rested by the time Cate walked up and knocked on our window at 5:30am. I had missed the ride briefing the night before, but I got the gist of what I was doing. I would be riding with an elderly couple, Joanna and Bill, whom I had met casually in the past. We would ride thirty miles on the first and second days, then the last twenty on the third day. The trails were marked with ribbon and all holds were back at base camp. I would be responsible for determining the pace at which we rode, and I had to remind myself that this is CTR, not endurance.
I will say that the ride itself was rather enjoyable. The trails were lovely and I got to see parts of Fair Hill that I hadn't ridden before, which is a real rarity for me by this point. The weather was phenomenal and the views were beautiful. I told Bill and Joanna that I like to make a ride enjoyable for everyone involved. They wound up being great company and the three of us rode together in harmony, with Poe and me leading most of the way. We saw deer and foxes and hawks, and circled around properties with all sorts of livestock and historic buildings. Poe, despite his owner's flaws, is a very nice horse and he loves his job. His whole attitude is about moving along down the trail. Poe is a brilliant horse.
We rode back into base camp after the first loop, feeling fresh and energetic. Mike greeted me with a kiss over his clipboard and asked, "Did you see your dog?""No, why?" I had a moment of concern before I spotted her. She was tied to a telephone pole by the timing tent, fast asleep on her side in the sunshine.
Herbie was on her absolute best behavior for the entire weekend. She sat quietly on her leash during the day, mostly napping. She didn't bark once the whole time we were down there, even when other dogs pulled and barked and when horses acted up. Of course she made a great impression on everyone and made a ton of new friends. I know Herbie is a good dog, but taking her to rides is one of those things I should have done with her starting when she was a puppy. Instead, I waited until she was almost two years old. She handled it just fine all the same, which just goes to show how well adapted she is. I don't mean to sound arrogant, but she was better behaved than a lot of dogs who are at these rides all the time! It was worth it to Herbie, too, because she got scraps of food and ear scratches from lots of people all weekend. She also got to make friends with several other dogs, including a lab puppy and a fully grown Great Dane.
At one point, a guy came up to me and said, "She is such a nice dog. That is the calmest pit bull I have ever met."
I really wanted to reply, "She's really not, though. She's just restrained," but I just smiled and thanked him.
The second loop went equally smoothly. It was Friday and school was still in session. We ran across many groups of young children out by the nature center. They were very well behaved and lined up single file the second their teachers instructed them too. Unfortunately, the teachers also told them to be very quiet. It was a nice thought, but there's nothing freakier to a horse than a slew of tiny, wide-eyed predators standing in long, silent lines. I asked the children to speak up so the horses would know they were human, and they erupted into cheers of, "Hi horsey!!!" Poe, Bill's Rocky mountain mare, Spice Girl, and Joanna's Arabian mare, Breeze, all relaxed instantly.Unlike the first loop, which was mostly rolling hills, the second loop was very technical. There was a lot of single track, a lot of switch backs, and a lot of slippery hills. We had to take it a lot slower than we had on the first loop. Thankfully, we'd gone through the first loop pretty quickly so we had no problem making good time, but it sort of shot my original plan... to take it easy for the last few miles and get our pulses down before the hold... to pieces. I made a note to myself to really move out on the second day.
The temperatures had risen and I was sweating by the end of the day, but the miles flew by and before I knew it, the first day of the ride was behind me. Poe vetted clean and I got him put away for the night before finally taking a second to grab some food for myself. I was a bit disappointed in myself. I was feeling pretty sore and worn out and ready for a nap. Even after a one day fifty, I'm usually raring to go. I guess that flu was really taking its toll on me.
I spent most of the afternoon sitting in the timer tent with Mike while he worked. Emily was there with Chotori, competing in the 100. When I offered to help her at her hold, several people gasped. Someone muttered, "That's Emily. You don't offer to help Emily! She's very independent. You wouldn't want to offend her."
"Would it help if I said I know her personally and we ride together all the time?" Sheesh!
Emily's take on the whole thing is, "Hold my horse while I go pee? Yes please!"
Seriously. I feel like I missed the memo about all the politics of CTR.
That afternoon, Mike and I went out for a drive to relax and grab some food. We stopped at the same hole-in-the-wall restaurant/bar that we ate at in the spring with Wendy. We had had a very good experience then and were looking forward to enjoying their seafood chowder. After all, Maryland is definitely the place to get good seafood!
Sadly, they had changed the recipe since the last time we were there and when we first got our bowls, we couldn't tell if the soup just had a funky flavor or if it had gone bad. We weren't planning on saying anything, but you really can't take chances with seafood and we didn't want to put anyone else at risk, so Mike very politely told the manager that the soup had an odd flavor to it. She immediately stormed into the back of the restaurant, yelling, "That's it! Who made the soup?!?!" Mike shrank back and we wondered if we'd gotten someone fired. Suddenly, everyone in the restaurant was paying special attention to us, making sure all our needs were met, and that the rest of our meal was nothing short of perfect. Mike and I don't like being the center of attention like that, but it was very sweet of them to make such an effort, and the rest of our meal really was very good.We made it back to camp shortly after that and I spent most of my evening hand walking Poe. Because the horses at this ride are stalled, not penned, his legs were extremely stocked up. I thought Ozzy's legs got bad in a stall, but he's really got nothing on Poe. Hand walking seemed to help a bit, but he was still stiff and swollen at the end of the night.
While we were out behind the grounds, I chatted with the handful of people that I knew at the ride. Cherry, Boston Kate's adopter, was there crewing for her daughter and (new) husband, Mike, both of whom were riding very nice Arabians. I knew Harley already, but it was only my second time meeting Mike's mare, Truly.
Mike and I finished up our night by taking Herbie for a long walk behind ride camp. We took her off leash and played fetch with her until she was ready to drop. She was thrilled to be let loose and we had a great time just walking the trails at sunset and watching her wear herself out. It was good for me to work out some of my sore muscles too.That night we went to bed early so we could be up before dawn the following day.
I was up at 5am that Saturday for day two of the 80. I spent a long time hand walking Poe before the morning vet check. Even after the swelling in his legs went down significantly, they were still pretty puffy. Thankfully, they didn't seem to be affecting his gait and he warmed up smoothly. I had switched him to the hackamore as we prepared to repeat the loops from the day before.
The second day of riding was relatively uneventful. We ran into some people walking their dogs and I was impressed with the number of people who had great recalls on their off leash canines. We saw a much less considerate church group at a camping area. They were making a ton of noise and got the horses pretty worked up when we went by. It was much warmer on the second day and the miles seemed to drag a bit.
At one point, Poe nearly dumped me at a water crossing. He was getting a drink and I was taking a chance to sponge him and get his temperature down a bit. I dropped my sponge in the water and he turned his head to look at it, ears pricked and nostrils flared. After staring at it for several seconds, he decided it was in fact going to kill him and spun violently around, attempting to bolt out of the water. I reined him in, reprimanded him, and continued sponging. Horses!
That night Mike and I stuck around camp to eat, but we went out to pick up some beers before bed. After we took care of Poe and walked Herbie, we retreated to the Yukon, which we had parked down by the tree line, far away from everyone else. A huge storm rolled in just as the sun was setting and we had a great time sitting in the back of the truck, drinking beers and listening to the rain pounding on the roof. It was by far the best part of the weekend.
Before I knew it, Sunday morning had dawned, clear and cool. I felt surprisingly refreshed and I was excited to get the last twenty miles of the ride under my belt. Poe was feeling peppy too. I almost put a bit back on him to play it safe. Breeze had had a slight issue at the vet check at the end of the second day, but she vetted clean in the morning so the three of us headed out on trail together. I was glad for the company.
The last twenty miles consisted of two ten mile loops that sort of did a figure eight back through base camp. At the half way point, we would simply trot up the driveway, circle around a cone past the vets, and trot back out on trail. There would be no final hold.
Bill, Joanna, and I were on fire that day. We had really found our rhythm and the horses were feeding off of each other. The first ten miles flew by and I got a lot of compliments on how good Poe looked as we breezed through camp, stopping long enough for me to cram some electrolytes down his throat before taking off to catch Spice Girl and Breeze. Thankfully, the most technical parts of the trail had been cut out that day and we were making good time as we approached the final stretch of our 80 mile adventure.And then, in the last five miles, things fell apart.
About three miles out from the finish line we came to a four way intersection in the trail and followed the markers to the right, toward a big field. Suddenly, Poe stopped moving and started violently thrashing his head and neck, something I'd never seen him do before. I looked down and it took a second for my brain to fully register what was going on. A swarm of bees was completely covering the left side of Poe's neck and shoulders.
I had just enough time to think, "The next fifteen seconds of my life is really going to suck," before they started to sting us. By this point I was kicking Poe as hard as I could and yelling at him to, "CANTER, POE! CANTER!!!" but he wouldn't move. He was getting attacked and I couldn't swat him or do anything to help. Then I started getting stung too. I got stung several times on my back and shoulders, a couple times on my legs, and twice on the back of my hands, through my gloves. Then they started to sting my face before getting into my helmet. Bees were tangled in my hair and I was on fire from getting stung. I was this close to flinging my helmet into the bushes and getting disqualified.
Finally, Poe broke out of his panic and took off. I had just enough time to hear Bill hit the ground behind me, but I couldn't stop. I had to get my own horse to safety.
It turns out a bunch of hunting dogs had stirred the bees up and the 100 milers got them even more pissed when they went through. The 100's managed to get through with just a handful of stings on the horses' legs.The hunters responsible for the dogs were sitting right around the corner, and as I went by at a mad dash, one of them said, smugly, "Those bees'll getcha."
I'm gonna fucking getcha! My horse isn't gonna kick you. I am!
As I tore up the hill, I was yelping with every sting. I'm not sure if it was from the pain of getting stung or from the horror of realizing that at any moment all these bees could sting me at once.
The hundreds heard me coming and stopped to make sure I was ok.
"Did the bees get you?" Jim asked.
"Yeah, I'm getting stung right now," I squeaked.
"You're not allergic, are you?" someone else chimed in.
"No. I'd be in big trouble if I was..."
And then the bees caught up and I started getting stung again. The whole group of us took off again together and it was several fields before we were safe. I pulled Poe up and waited for Joanna and Bill to catch up. I apologized for leaving them. Bill was covered in mud and skid marks, but when I asked him if he was ok, he smiled and said, "She just very gently deposited me on the ground. I'm alright."
Coming up the hill after the bees was probably the closest I've ever come to crying at a competition. I was just like, "I have the flu, and I have cramps, and I'm getting stung by bees, and I just wanna go hooooome!!!" ;_;It made that ride where Ozzy broke out of camp then dumped me and dragged me up the side of the mountain before we rode 50 miles in the rain look like fun.
I did find some humor in the situation though. When I texted Mike that I got my period, he texted back, "Oh no." When I texted him that Poe and I got attacked by a whole hive of bees, he texted back, "Oh no!!!"
Thankfully, we made it to the finish line in one piece and after our ordeal, Poe vetted clean. I poulticed his bee stings, which covered his face, neck, shoulders, and chest, with a few scattered spots on his flanks and hindquarters. Mike and I decided to stick around for awards and I was thrilled that Bill earned Grand Champion with Poe and myself coming in as Reserve. I was sad when Cate kept both the ribbon and the engraved leather halter, but she paid my entry fees so I'm really not going to complain.
I was thrilled when Emily and Chotori kicked ass and got Grand Champion in the 100. Well earned!!!Mike also got a whole thank you speech from ride management for basically over hauling the timing to become the master timer for the weekend. Apparently he really held the ride together. That's my man :)
Pretty much as soon as the awards were over, Mike and I said our goodbyes and drove straight home. I have never been so glad to leave a ride. The good news is that 80 miles, even with the flue, cramps, and bee stings, wound up being well within my physical range and I really do think I could do a one day hundred if I trained for it.
So there you have it... my first 80!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)