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Donut's Story

Whatever happened to that neurological chow mix?

2013 Mustang Memorial

At the beginning of October, Liz put me in touch with a woman named Sally. Those who read Liz's blog (and I think everyone should, seriously) know that Liz rode Sally's mare, Gracie, in this year's Ride Between The Rivers.

What you probably don't know is that I know Gracie! I met Gracie at Foxcatcher in 2010. Daryl was riding her and she was running around the starting line backwards, trying to kick the other horses. Then she passed Ozzy and decided, for some reason, that she didn't hate him. Daryl laughed and said, "I guess we're riding with you." We proceeded to ride the first 32 miles of the 50 together before Ozzy got pulled. Gracie went on to have a very successful year with Daryl and I saw her at countless rides in the years after that. She even completed top ten at the Vermont Moonlight 100.

Rump rugs on for the cold start.

Sally was looking for someone to ride her horse, Diesel, in the Mustang Memorial 50, and she wanted to know if I would be interested. I replied, telling her that I am always interested in doing endurance rides.I have missed the sport terribly and this year basically wiped me off the trail entirely.

Sally called me the next day and we spent a long time chatting. It turns out that we have a lot in common, and agree on a lot of different things. It also turns out that Sally is quite the person to network with. She has more horses than she can physically ride, and she likes to keep them all competing at the FEI level, so it's important they get their miles and their completions in. I told Sally up front that I broke my leg in February and hadn't done a 50 since, and she told me that she would put me on her list of potential riders for the Mustang.

A short time later, Sally messaged me to confirm that she'd picked me to ride Diesel, and to ask for my AERC information, etc.

At the Devil, we all got to chatting about the upcoming ride, and Sandy brought up a very valid point. "Dom," she asked me as we sat around the campfire that night, "Are you ready to do a fast fifty?"
"Sure!" I laughed it off. But as the night wore on, I started to second guess myself. Was I really ready to do a fast fifty? I didn't think the distance would be a problem, but holding a 10mph average might be an issue, what with my freshly healed leg and my out of shape body. Little did I know...

Great volunteers at this ride!

The day of the ride drew closer and we got everything finalized. At the last moment, Julio ate our air mattress and the weather forecast predicted a cold snap the night before the ride. Thankfully, Carolyn very generously let us borrow her Pathfinder to sleep in.

We arrived in camp that Friday afternoon and quickly found Sally's rig and horses. I introduced myself to Diesel, her nine year old gray Arabian gelding (my first bonafide G.A.G.) then located John, Sally's husband/crew.

After sorting through the mountains of registration paperwork, I got my ride packet and number. Coincidentally, I got #533, the same as the last time I completed the Mustang (Ozzy's last fifty!) I guess that number is good luck.

As soon as we were signed in, Sally and I took the horses out for a quick pre-ride. We figured it would make sense for me to at least sit on the horse before taking him for 50 miles at the FEI* level! Sally and I rode for about four miles, walking, trotting, and getting to know each other. We discussed our goals for the next day... to do a nice easy fifty, take care of the horses, and get A's all across the board.

Tracy ponies her 9yo daughter for
the start of her first 50.

"Just so you know," Sally told me, "I took a look at the competition, and we probably have two of the fastest horses here. We could probably go one-two if we wanted to, but I don't think we want to go that fast. I would like to Top Ten, but it's not that important..."
I could hear Mike's voice in my head, Mmmmhmmm...

Diesel, as promised, was a perfectly lovely horse. He's very well trained and very sane. He knows all his cues and is just sensible and hard to frazzle. He's soft, supple, and has nice gaits. He also has a nice, solid build and a strong back. I loved everything about him. When Sally told me he's for sale, I figured, "Yeah, and he's probably $10k," but it turns out he's only $6000, a steal. I had to clamp my hands over my ears and sing, "Lalalalala."

Sally and I found that we had a ton of things in common; from our views on horse rescue to horrific riding accidents that ended in horses stepping on our faces and breaking our jaws. We were laughing and smiling just a few minutes into the pre-ride, and both of us were excited to ride fifty miles together.

We made our way back to camp as the sun was setting and took the horses over to vet in. Diesel aced the pre-ride exam with A's across the board. I even trotted him out myself, and he looked great. Gracie passed her vetting as well, and we got them set up for the night before heading down for dinner and the ride briefing.

The gun club we were camped at was completely packed. There were 63 riders entered in the fifty alone. A few things had changed for this year's Mustang. The biggest difference, of course, was that this would be an FEI ride. As a result, they were running a 75 miler for the first time in the ride's history. At the same time, we were in a new venue, across the highway from where the ride is usually held, with new trails to experience. Of course, they would still consist of sand and pine trees, but we were promised there would be less dirt bike moguls than usual, among other things.

Heading out for second loop.

That night, Mike and I took a long walk before bed, strolling hand in hand across the moonlit fields. I voiced my concerns about letting Sally down or not being able to complete the distance, and Mike was as supportive and reassuring as ever.

It was downright frigid that night. All the water buckets froze and the blanketed horses had frost in their manes when we awoke. Mike and I stayed warm despite the weather though. We slept under his sub-zero sleeping bag, cuddled close together for warmth. I slept as well as I always sleep before a ride, and awoke promptly when my alarm went off before dawn.

Mike and I had coffee and some form of breakfast before I headed back to the trailer to tack up for a 7:30am start. It was still cold as we got the horses ready, and I waited until the last moment to ditch my Carhartt jacket. We clipped rump rugs to our saddles, and got the horses walking and trotting well before the start.

I was relieved to be riding in my own saddle, which had fit Diesel surprisingly well, and equally grateful that Sally didn't care that I opted out of the running martingale she usually uses on the mild-mannered gelding.

I forgot how much I miss the excitement of an endurance ride start, but I was grinning from ear to ear as all the horses milled around, waiting for the starting line to open. When 7:30 finally rolled around, we were about mid-pack, but we started picking off horses right away, moving further and further toward the front of the group.

Sally turned on her GPS and announced, "We're going to trot for the first half hour to let them warm up. Then we'll canter."
I told her, "You tell me how fast you want me to go and I'll do it."

The first loop was 20 miles, and I was looking forward to getting the biggest chunk of the ride out of the way. I was secretly worried that I wouldn't be able to make it much past the first loop. After the initial half hour trot, we spent almost the entire 20 miles cantering. I found that Diesel had a gorgeous, easy to ride canter. I also learned that he is very sure-footed and good at taking care of his feet. As the day wore on, I managed him less and less and trusted him more and more.

Before long, we were riding in the Top Ten. At that point, the front runners were pretty closely clustered together and we alternated riding company; sometimes passing horses, other times letting horses pass us. Gracie and Diesel rode beautifully together, matching pace and taking turns in front. I did find that our horses seemed to be faster than those around us, and we had a much easier time leading a group than following one. We averaged about 10mph for the first loop. At one point, we were letting the horses go down a long, wide stretch of trail and Sally clocked us at 19mph, much faster than we wanted to be going so early in the day.

About two hours after we left camp, we came back to the first hold. Both horses were still raring to go, and I felt surprisingly good. I had a slight rub starting on the inside of my right knee, but I was pleased to find that my leg wasn't bothering me at all. I did have a slight case of sea-legs when I first dismounted, but it faded fast and I was able to trot Diesel for this vetting too. Both horses pulsed down right away and vetted clean (all A's for Diesel again) and we got them set up with their food and electrolytes. At that point, we were sitting toward the tail end of the top ten.

While the horses ate, Mike made sure I took care of myself. Bananas are my heroes at endurance rides, and I eagerly devoured one while guzzling some Gatorade. Mmmm... At that point, I was still feeling fresh, but I was aware that the day would only get tougher, and I made myself eat and drink anyway.

Forty-five minutes later, we were heading back out on trail for the second, 18 mile loop. Our goal was to go slightly faster for the second loop, and we left camp at a canter. Once again, we cantered pretty much the whole loop, only slowing when we hit the few moguls that were unavoidable at this ride. About halfway through the loop, both Diesel and Gracie finally started to drink. We also dismounted to give the horses LyteNow.

On the second loop, Diesel proved to me that he's a natural-born endurance horse. Not only did he move out easily and happily, but he swapped leads almost automatically ever mile or so, and took great care of himself in terms of drinking and grabbing mouthfuls of hay at the 'pit stops' on trail.

This time, Sally and I averaged about 12mph, finishing the second loop in less than an hour and a half. I was glad I hadn't bothered with my helmet cam or point and shoot. I didn't have time to think about anything but riding.

By the second hold, I was getting pretty tired. My shoulder was bothering me and I had rubbed my right knee completely raw. I wasn't sure if it was the stirrup leather or my chaps that chaffed, but something wasn't working. To my dismay, we did not have any kind of band-aid to cover it up with, and it promised to get worse during the last loop. The good news was that I had Mike to trot my horse for me and my leg still wasn't bothering me.

Once again, the horses vetted cleanly. Unfortunately, Diesel didn't pulse down as quickly as Gracie and there was a four minute gap between our out times. Sally told me that she would only leave at her out time if she had other horses to go with. Gracie doesn't like to go out alone, and resorts to the running backwards thing I referred to above.

At this hold, Mike and John had burgers ready for us, and I ate most of one of those as well as another banana (and more Gatorade). Mike tried to get me to eat more, but I just couldn't do it.

When the time came to head out on our third and final 12 mile loop, Sally found a group of riders that were going out at the same time she was. With some final words of wisdom, she was off, leaving Diesel and me walking around camp, counting down the seconds until we could head out after them. I had a brief sinking feeling as I wondered if I could coax another twelve miles out of Diesel by myself.

Four minutes may not seem like a long time, but a horse can cover a lot of distance in that time at the canter. By the time Diesel and I were allowed out, there was almost a two mile gap between us and the horses in front of us. I caught a quick glimpse of them across the fields before they disappeared into the treeline across the street.

The last loop wound up being intense.

At first, Diesel wasn't convinced that we really needed to be going back on trail. As far as he was concerned, all the other horses were back at camp, and I, practically a stranger, was trying to convince him to go back out in the Pine Barrens alone. Despite his obvious hesitation at going out solo, Diesel obediently picked up a canter when I asked.

About a mile and a half from camp, we stopped at a big puddle, where Diesel guzzled water to quench his growing thirst. I had managed to spot the riders directly in front of us as they rounded a corner in the distance. Diesel didn't know it, but we were slowly closing the gap between us and Sally & Gracie. It was time to see how much heart this horse had.

I legged Diesel up to a trot, then a canter, before finally pushing him into a gallop. His ground eating stride made easy work of the sandy trail, and I knew we were gaining. Still, we were forty miles into his second fifty, and we had been setting a fast pace all day. He was starting to slow down, and I was worried that, without another horse for company, he would fade on me before the finish. I wove my fingers into Diesel's mane and whispered, "Go, Diesel, GO!"  And go he did...

Next thing I knew, we were coming up on a familiar gray mare butt with a red ribbon in the tail. Sally looked over her shoulder to see who was coming up behind her, and her face lit up. "It's my rider! Awesome job!" Up until that point, she'd been sitting comfortably in fifth place. She told me after the ride that she probably would have finished there had I not come along. Gracie doesn't like to lead, and she flat out refuses to pass most horses. It would have been rude to let the group carry her to the finish line, only to beat them at the last minute, so Sally would have settled for end of that pack.

"How are you feeling?" Sally called, as I cantered up beside her.
"I'm tired, but I think I've got a few more miles left," I panted.
"Good. Then it's time to go!" She called ahead to the riders in front of us, "Do you mind if we pass?"

At this point, we were going blazing fast. Diesel had already galloped the first several miles of the last loop, and it looked like we were going to gallop the rest, too. We started to catch up to some of the 30 milers, and even some fifties who were a loop behind us.

A short time later, we passed a friend of Sally's, who recognized the twin grays. "O my god! Are you guys in FIRST?!?!" the friend shrieked. Until that point, we weren't sure. "You guys better go, go, go!!!"

This is when Sally looked at me and said, "Here's where we stand: We've got a group of really good riders right behind us, but we have the faster horses. Ride with all you've got, take care of Diesel, and do NOT look back." I merely nodded.

As we passed through the local campground for the last time, the scout for the US team was standing near a check point. He nodded a greeting to Sally, who is sort of a regular in this sport, then did a double take at me. Then, with a not so subtle furrowing of his brow, he started to flip through his clipboard, trying to figure out who the heck I was. Not grasping who he was, I naively called out my ride number. Sally chuckled. As we rounded the next corner, she told me, "That's not why he was looking at you."

Before I knew it, we were coming up on the final stretch. By then, my legs were too tired for me to ride in two-point, and we were going too fast to sit well. I was alternating positions, trying to protect my raw knee, focusing on keeping the horse between myself and the ground, and just hoping nothing went wrong.

Diesel looks awesome. My knee hurts.

As we burst through the last tree line, Sally shouted, "O my! Is that Mike?"

I managed to glance right, just in time to see Mike sprinting at full speed through the plowed field toward the finish line, eight foot stride, camera in one hand, trying to get the photo.

We had been told that the official finish line would be across the street from camp. We also told the men that we would do the last loop in about an hour. Forty-five minutes in, Mike walked across the street and realized that the finish line was on the far side of the corn field. He had been walking across the field and trying to figure out which way the trail went. Just as he spotted the trail head, two gray horses and a familiar pink helmet burst through the trees at a dead run.

I am amazed because he managed to get the photos anyway.

Ahead, I saw the finish line, two stakes driven into the ground and wrapped in pink ribbon. Diesel, a former racehorse, saw the finish line too. Just when I thought we couldn't go any faster, he kicked it into another gear. I dropped my heels, grabbed some mane, and cheered to Diesel as we sprinted for the finish line.

"Can I ask you for a huge favor?" Sally called.
"Anything at all!"
"Can you let me cross the line first?"
"Of course! It's the least I can do."

At the last moment, I almost crossed first by accident. Gracie spooked at something in the woods and jumped sideways. I had to slam on the brakes, and poor Diesel was pretty confused, but Gracie crossed first by a hair.

The US team scout asked, "Did I just see you a few miles back at the check point by the campground?"
"I'm the only one with a pink helmet," I beamed.

We praised the horses, high-fived each other, and rode at a leisurely trot back to camp, where people seemed startled to see fifty milers finishing already.

I greeted Mike with a smile and a kiss and asked, "Are you proud of your girlfriend now?"
"I'm very proud," he replied with a smirk, "But not at all surprised."

I finally looked at my watch and realized that Diesel and I had done the last twelve miles in 51 minutes. That's an average speed of over 14mph! Blazing! Our total ride time was only 4h13m, which is incredibly fast, even in the near-ideal conditions.

I will say that Diesel was a little tired at the end of it. He had put in an incredible last loop. I couldn't have asked for horse with more try. Still, he got A's almost all the way across the board.

By then, I was pretty much finished. My knee was bleeding openly and my legs shook as I led Diesel to the final vetting. Daryl, who had gotten pulled after the mare he was riding took a tumble on trail and pulled her shoulder, was kind enough to trot Diesel out for me, but they got a B on impulsion. Thankfully, Diesel was sound and all his other parameters were awesome.

We had completed! And we had done it in style, successfully passing many of the best US riders in the region, as well as half the Canadian team! I couldn't have asked for a better comeback ride. Apparently I am capable of doing a very fast 50!

Of course, Sally and I stood the horses for BC. I knew Diesel wasn't going to get it. He was pretty sluggish by then. I will say that I had a blast riding at that kind of a pace, with that kind of competitive attitude, but I'm not sure I would have run one of my own horses that hard. Gracie fared better than Diesel. She has lots of 50's under her belt, and had recently completed a 75 mile ride. Nonetheless, neither one of us got BC. Instead, it went to Dave's horse, who had finished right behind us.

Still, I was thrilled with how Diesel had finished. He was still eating and drinking up a storm, and he seemed completely recovered by the following afternoon. On top of that, he checked off another item on his list of qualifications for his FEI Novice Horse status. He has to complete three 50's within a certain time frame. One of them is allowed to be at open speed (under five hours), so he got that checked off too!

Sally seemed delighted, which is all I was hoping for. "You're hired!!" she laughed happily as we wandered back to the trailer. We'll probably wait until winter is behind us, but we're planning to do a lot more riding together. Her farm is only two hours or so from where we'll be living, so it's not a terrible drive. We all know I'm willing to travel! I think Sally is going to be an awesome connection to have (thank you, Liz!) and I'm very excited.

Sally and John got packed up shortly thereafter to make their long drive home, leaving Mike and me to hang out in camp for a little while longer. In that time, I gathered my completion award and my Top Ten prize. Then I caught up with some familiar faces, namely Char, the woman I rode 1st and 2nd with in the Western Maine 30 back in the day...

Mike also got to learn the true meaning of crew from someone who had overheard me being snippy with him at a particularly frustrating part of the second hold.

Can't
Remember
Everything
Woman

Coming in for the first hold.

That evening, we dropped the Pathfinder off at Carolyn's, unpacked our stuff, and went home to unwind.

The following day was my birthday and everything hurt. I could barely function, and it was a reminder that 50 miles is, in fact, nothing to sneeze at. All of my muscles were stiff and tender, and I couldn't move much faster than a shuffle. When Mike asked what I wanted to do for the day, I answered honestly, "I want to sit on the couch and move as little as possible." The good news is that everything hurt except my bum leg. I guess I'm getting my strength back after all!

I had a few battle scars, mostly from blocking tree branches. One was a huge bruise on my left elbow (with matching scratches on the other side). Then there was my knee... which was basically rubbed to tatters. I'm not sure what I did it on, but I have to figure it out and address it because I can't go through that again...

All in all it was one of the best rides of my life. I had a total blast and I basically didn't stop smiling the whole time. I pushed my physical limits and it felt fantastic. I had missed endurance riding so so much, and I'd say this was a good way to get back into it. Diesel is an incredible horse and Sally really does right by her animals. It's so good to meet someone so like-minded and generous. I couldn't have asked for a better birthday present.

WW: Ozzy and Cee Cee

Arrow Helmet Cam

Kristin just sent me this video! We missed our lesson this week because the weather was miserable, but she takes her homework very seriously and always makes progress between sessions. We've been working on a wide variety of obstacles with Arrow; from cavaletti, to the pinwheel exercise, to dragging logs through a slalom of barrels. I am very proud of both Kristin and Arrow. I wish all my students had Kristin's work ethic and dedication. Arrow is a very lucky horse.

Mustang Results

It's official!

[re]Introducing: Gunner

I have so much catching up to do when it comes to my current client list. My schedule is 100% full (which makes it impossible to blog regularly) and I need to dedicate an entire entry to the newest developments, but this one comes with photos so he gets his own entry!

I got a call a couple weeks ago from a woman with a driving horse. She needed some help getting her horse to be safe to drive away from home. 

As the conversation went on, it turned out that I knew this horse! Two owners ago, Tinstar's Gunner belonged to Jen. In fact, she got him right before I stopped boarding with her, and I knew him as a two year old. He is six now, and I hadn't really thought about him at all in recent memory. Small world!

I explained to Gunner's owner, Teresa, that, while I know how to drive, most of my driving experience has been at the track, and almost all of it has been in two wheeled carts with quick release harnesses. She assured me that this wouldn't be a problem and that I had come highly recommended. She could handle all the directly driving-related things (tacking up, hitching the cart, etc.) and just needed me to address Gunner's spookiness away from home. In fact, this could be a great learning experience for me in terms of real driving.

Gunner now lives at a beautiful farm in Pennsylvania. It's only about twenty minutes from the house (and ten minutes from the barn), and it's a scenic drive. The farm itself has beautiful, rolling pastures, a great old barn, and a big outdoor arena and round pen. The back of the property opens up onto miles of trail.

Gunner back when I boarded with Jen.

Last week, I went down to meet Teresa, and see Gunner for the first time in four years. I had seen photos of Gunner in his driving gear at Jen's office, and I had heard that he had grown to be a big guy, but I was still surprised to see how tall and solid he had become. A once-gangling two year old turned into a nice-looking, mature horse. He seems happy and well-adjusted, and is obviously getting the very best care. He has retained his awesome rock-solid feet, and happily drives around barefoot. Bonus points!

That day, Teresa took me for a lovely drive around the back of the property so I could see where Gunner is in his training, and so we could talk about what she needs. 

I got a run down of his history over the last four years. Jen sold Gunner to a woman named Barbara. Barbara really wanted a riding horse and Gunner's gaits weren't a great match for what she wanted to do. Teresa, who has had a hip replacement and doesn't do much riding any more, decided to buy him. He was originally supposed to be her daughter's horse, but her daughter is off in college and doesn't ride much either. Instead, Gunner got to start his career as a driving horse.

Teresa didn't know much about driving at the time, so she hired a professional to train Gunner to drive. He had already been started at Jen's, and knew about being harnessed and pulling a cart, but that was about the extent of it. The trainer took Gunner for full training and returned him well-broke to drive. Then Teresa took lessons with the trainer to learn about driving. Since then, Teresa has done a lot of driving with Gunner on her own.

I have to say that I'm very impressed with the training that Gunner already has. Teresa is at the barn by herself most of the time, so he stands politely to be harnessed and bridled, then parks indefinitely while Teresa fetches the cart and hooks him up. 

He has been trained using verbal commands, and he definitely knows them. All upward transitions are prefaced with 'Gunner' and all downward transitions are prefaced with 'and'. For example, "Gunner walk. Gunner trot. And walk. And whoa." 

Teresa says that the hardest part about training him was convincing him to trot instead of pacing, but he has that down now too. She claims that the only time he paces is when he's tense or nervous. 

Much like he would have been if he was a riding horse, Gunner has been taught to carry himself in a frame. He stretches down into the contact and engages his hind end to really pull properly. He knows how to follow the outside rein and is really very supple already. He is a naturally lazy horse so he tends to go around at a plug if he can get away with it.

The drive that morning was really quite enjoyable. Gunner was on his very best behavior, and Teresa told me that that's how he is at home. The problem is when he leaves the property or experiences something new. Apparently, he just gets very up and, with how big he is, that makes him nearly impossible to handle. We both agreed that it's a matter of miles and exposure, but Teresa is not in a place to do that with him. 

Photo by MaryBeth Baur-Baker .

We also agreed that the way to approach this is not simply to ship him off the property, hook him up, and then drive until he gets over it. Driving wrecks are extremely dangerous and need to be avoided at all costs. The cart needs to be out of the picture until the issue is well and truly resolved. Instead, the plan is to stretch Gunner's comfort zone at home, then start riding him away from home until he gets the miles he needs. Only once that is established will we reintroduce the cart.

This morning I went back for my first ride with Gunner. Gunner is broke to ride and has carried a saddle and rider on multiple occasions, but nobody has sat on him in six months. Still, he's a standardbred and I wasn't that worried about it. I met Teresa at the barn, where she tacked Gunner up and led him to the outdoor ring.

It was the scariest possible day out there. It was bitterly cold and the wind was blowing full force, dropping the temperature to well below freezing. Everything was moving. Everything was making noise. Gunner was jumpy right from the very start. In a way, it was a good thing, because I got to see what his spooks are all about and what makes him tick when he's scared.

Gunner was a total gentleman for mounting, which really came as no surprise. I circled him around one end of the arena, testing out his brakes and steering. As I expected, he was very responsive to verbal cues, and overly sensitive to my leg. He was being a good boy, but he was definitely perplexed by the fact that I was sitting astride instead of in a cart. He was also very good about pushing forward into the bridle and softening into a contact. He steers like a cart horse (shoulders first), but he's nice and bendy and a pretty straight forward ride, despite the rust.

He is also every bit as spooky about unfamiliar things as Teresa claims. The first time we tried to ride toward the far end of the arena, the big metal tower in the back field clanged ominously. Gunner nearly jumped out of his skin. His spook consists of spinning away from the scary thing and trying to head for home. He doesn't bolt, but he does jump sideways and forward pretty violently with his head straight in the air. I can see how it would be a major problem in harness. 

Part of the problem is that Gunner wears blinders for driving. When the blinders come off, he can suddenly see everything and it's all very scary. The problem with using blinders as a safety precaution is that there are things that he will see even in the blinders. I had the chance to address this issue when Teresa offered to put a pair of ear plugs on Gunner halfway through our lesson today. 

I explained that I don't like to avoid an issue with a horse. Instead, I like to confront it, head on. If we just put blinders and ear plugs on the horse all the time, then when something truly scary happens, he won't know how to cope and he'll revert to shying away from it and potentially running home. If, however, we condition him on the correct way to respond to scary stimuli, then he'll be prepared in the event that something scary happens, and we can use the blinder and/or ear plugs as a way to reduce the number of stimuli in general. Ideally, I'd love to see her driving Gunner in an open bridle, but that's a long way into the future. I like to give my horses the opportunity to see, investigate, and understand the things that scare them, but it takes some convincing to get other people to do the same. With that said, Teresa seems very open to doing it my way and is very big on doing things slowly and properly, without short cuts.

Photo Teresa sent me.

As for today's lesson... We just did a lot of walk, walk, walking. I circled to the right, gradually getting closer to the scary end of the arena. As we went, Gunner got less jumpy and learned to trust me to take care of him instead of trying to get himself to safety. We repeated the exercise in both directions. On the last lap, the wind really picked up just as we got close to the noisy tower. Gunner slowed to a halt, ears pricked, and stared at the tower while I patted his neck and told him, "And stand." After a few moments of trying to figure out where the sound was coming from, Gunner moved forward again. He gave the tower one more sidelong glance, then turned his attention to me. We walked calmly past the scary end of the arena with Gunner softly coming into a frame. As we turned away from the tower, he sighed deeply and stretched down. 

Teresa seemed happy with our first ride, and we called it quits there. The next step is to get him walking and trotting quietly around the arena without spooking. Once he does that, I'll start tackling some of the property he's familiar with. When he is acclimated to being ridden again, Teresa will bring him to my farm for his first 'off site' lessons, and we'll take it from there.

I am very excited to be working with Gunner. He's a smart, willing, and kind horse. He is still young and relatively green to the world, but I think he'll turn out to be awesome once he gets some real life experiences. Plus, I'll probably learn a good bit in the process!

Mustang Memorial Preview

Yesterday was the Mustang Memorial 30/50/75 (an FEI*/FEI** ride). I was invited to come ride a horse named Diesel. It was my first 50 since I broke my leg. We booked it all day long and tied for first place (out of 63 riders) with a ride time of 4h13m. I had the time of my life and my leg feels just fine! Happy birthday to me! Details to follow.

Puppies and Such, A Feel-Good Entry

I am so far behind on blogging that most of these dogs have been adopted already, but I thought I'd share anyway.

Ok, so he's not a dog, but I actually managed to get a photo of Romeo. He's the kitten I 'confiscated' from Dana a few years ago. He grew up and wound up staying at the farm. He was pretty much feral until he wandered over to the neighbor's and got trapped as part of a TNR project. Since he was already neutered, he wound up being held at Animal Control for a few days (his microchip helped us find him!) When he came back, he suddenly had a shift in attitude. He's still wary of strangers, but now Mike, Carolyn, and I can all handle and snuggle and pet him.  

Hennessy is already adopted. 

This is my Chee-hwah-hwah's Chee-hwee-hwee. She is much bigger and more mobile now. Her name is Rainey.

Ellie, also adopted.

Donut, our neurological chow mix, actually got adopted this week too! I'll have all the details in a separate post.

Yes, that is a Skye terrier! This guy showed up at a neighboring Animal Control after someone returned to their parked car to find that he had been abandoned inside! AC brought him over to be euthanized a month later. They had him labeled as a Cairn Terrier (not even close!)  He was reportedly extremely cage aggressive and they feared he was not adoptable. When Monty, as we dubbed him, arrived, it turned out he wasn't aggressive at all. He was just scared, and noisy about it. He also had a severe flea allergy that left his hindquarters inflamed and extremely painful. You'd be defensive too! A few days later, we had a complete and total lap dog who wanted nothing more than to be petted and held. We networked with some Skye Terrier Rescues, namely one in California. In the end, Monty found a home with a Skye Terrier-loving woman in Florida, and we arranged transport with a kind-hearted volunteer. Since then, we have heard that Monty has settled well and is the joy of her life.

Last, but certainly not least, Billy. When Erin came down to ride JR, she fell in love with this Roman-nosed, stubby-legged guy. Next thing I knew (and with zero enabling from me... ok, maybe a little enabling...) she had filled out an application, gotten approved, and was on her way down to pick the little guy up. He is going to be completely spoiled rotten and I'll get to see him as he grows up. Last I checked, he's now going by Bilbo Waggins.

Julio Locks My Car (and other assorted dog updates)

The other week, I spent more time than usual with the dogs. I spent a lot of time at the Horse Park with them, letting them run themselves ragged on the cross country course.

Julio kisses Herbie at the Horse Park.

That Wednesday, Bryce had new windows put in the house. The company he used was not dog-friendly and I had to spend the whole day out of the house with the dogs in tow. It just so happened that I only had one lesson that day, so we had a lot of down time.

We managed to get to the shiny, brand new dog park down the street before everyone came along with their labs, corgis, and golden retrievers. For a long laundry list of reasons, I don't ever take my dogs to dog parks, but we took advantage of the empty space for a good hour before anyone else showed up. We played fetch, jumped over obstacles, and sniff sniff sniffed absolutely everything.

I spent that afternoon hiking Baldpate Mountain with the dogs. It was a pretty dreary day, and aside from one determined mountain biker, we had the whole park to ourselves. One of my favorite things about being self-employed is that I get to enjoy a lot of popular places while the majority of the public is at work. We took the power line trail. It's one of the steeper trails in the park, and also one of the most secluded, even on busy weekends. I let the dogs off leash and they ran back and forth, checking in with me, playing with each other, and running until they couldn't run any more. They both slept like rocks that night. My only regret was not having my camera with me. The fall colors were at their peak, and the dogs looked great against the foliage.

Of course, the funniest story from that week wasn't nearly as enjoyable. On one of the days that I took the dogs to the Horse Park, Erin met me there so we could catch up while the dogs played. At the end of our romp, Erin and I walked back to our cars. I threw the dogs in the back seat while we said our goodbyes.

In the time it took me to walk around to the other side of the car, Julio jumped in the front seat, landing squarely on my key fob. I heard an ominous click, and knew it was too late. Julio had locked himself and Herbie in my car.

My spare keys were at home, but Mike was at work and Bryce wouldn't be home for another 20 minutes. We live half an hour from the Horse Park and that seemed like an eternity to wait. Thankfully, Erin had AAA and we were able to call to have someone come unlock me.

"We've notified a tech. They'll be there in an hour to an hour and a half."
"My dogs are in the car..."
"He'll be there in twenty minutes."
"My... baby?... is in the car...?"

The tech made good time, didn't ask any questions, and quickly unlocked my car without much ado. Julio was trying to help the tech by grabbing his tool every time it entered the car, and Herbie was staring at him like, "Just use the handle, you moron."

Moral of the story: start wearing clothes with pockets!

Jersey Devil 25 Mile CTR

Last weekend, Ozzy and I went down to the Pine Barrens for the Jersey Devil, opting to ride in Saturday's 25 miles CTR. It was the first time I've entered him in any kind of competition since he got hurt at Foxcatcher in 2011. I had accepted long ago that our 50 mile days are behind us, and didn't hold out much hope for LD's either. We've been doing some hunter paces here and there, and I had toyed around with the idea of doing some local CDR's next year. After our 25 mile drag ride in Maryland, however, I started to hope that Ozzy might still have some competitive miles left. Sandy talked me into signing up for the Devil, and also twisted my arm into not riding pass fail and into wearing a costume during the ride. It turned out to be quite a weekend.

At the last minute, our shipping arrangements got pretty complicated. Originally, Sandy and I were supposed to take Ozzy and Ember down together, but the week before the ride, Ember brewed a giant abscess and was too lame to ride, let alone compete. Sherry's horse, Scutch, is also out of commission with a suspensory tear.

In the end, Sandy borrowed Melissa's horse, Emu (French Fyr) and Sherry borrowed Dodie's mare, Daisy. At the same time, a young girl named Chelsea, who boards a mere six miles from my barn posted to the NJ trail riding Facebook group asking for shipping for her horse, Clay, an older National Show Horse who had been rescued from the Amish. So we had four riders from two states, four horses from two states (but not the same towns), and a three horse trailer. Confused yet?

Sherry took the three horse from her house in PA and drove through the entire state of NJ to pick up Emu, Clay, and Ozzy. Kevin, who was also competing that weekend, saved the day by driving by Dodie's to get Daisy. Sherry and I drove down together. Sandy, Mike, and Chelsea joined us later, each in a separate vehicle. But we got everyone there, settled, and paired with their horses. More importantly, we got everyone dropped off at their respective farms at the end of the weekend. Phew!

Ozzy was delighted to see me when I went to fetch him from the pasture. By now, I think he's realized that I only come to get him when we're doing something fun. He was talking at me and prancing as he came to meet me at the gate. Good boy! We did have to do a little shuffling with the horses in the trailer since Ozzy can't ride in the last slot of the slant-load.

The ride down was brief and uneventful. Sherry and I caught up on the latest news, exchanged stories, and laughed hysterically at the poodle sticking its head out of the sun roof in the car in front of us. I knew where we were going from rides in the past and from hiking with Mike and Herbie the other winter.

We arrived and got parked at the back of camp. We only had half the property this year because a haunted hay ride was running next door. I was grateful for the relative privacy of our location, but I was a bit concerned about the sand pit, and we had to unload the horses before we could pull the rig into the spot.

As soon as Ozzy unloaded, he looked around, peed, walked a few steps, and dropped to roll in the glorious sand. I think he missed the Pine Barrens. Emu, who lives where it's muddy, rolled repeatedly as well.

Mike wasn't far behind us, with the dogs in tow. Herbie was also delighted to be back in ride camp, and Julio was in for his first every ride experience. Between the group of us, we got the horses settled in, the pens set up, and everybody fed and watered. I paid  my entry fees, showed proof of rabies for everyone, etc.

Sherry and Daisy.

We made the decision to vet in on Friday night instead of waiting for the Saturday morning rush. I had begged Sandy into jogging Ozzy in for me. I still haven't done any running since my accident, and I wasn't about to tackle running, sand, and trot circles at the same time.

Vetting in that night was by far the most frustrating part of the weekend. The vet was new and this was his first CTR. That, however, wasn't the problem. The problem was that the lay judge was chatting up a storm, not really paying attention, and spending more time bossing people around than actually doing her job. I've had problems in the past, but I try to keep my head down because the CTR world can be pretty political.

By the time we got over to hands on, we had been standing in line for about an hour and a half (there were not that many horses to vet). Ozzy was completely amped up and raring to do his trot out. Sandy and I had stood together the entire time. She got vetted and asked to jog. Then the lay judge took the horse behind me instead of Ozzy! By the time that horse was done, we had run out of daylight. Ozzy had stood in line for an hour and a half instead of eating and walking around. He was ready to explode (and so was I, but in a different way). Now I was going to have to come back at dawn and do the trot out, despite the fact that we wouldn't be starting until 10am or so. I was boiling over as we marched back to our campsite in the dark. I had some pretty nasty comments to leave on my ride evaluation.

That night, Mike and I slept in the Yukon while the girls crashed in the bunk house. The temperatures dropped into the 20's, the coldest it's been so far this fall. I blanketed Ozzy since he was confined to a small space and the wind was blowing pretty bitterly. I am happy to report that I slept pretty well and stayed very warm that night. I had two down blankets, Julio on one side, Mike on the other, and Herbie across my feet. Unfortunately, the dogs pulled the blankets partly off of Mike and he had a draft from the door. He was pretty frozen by the morning, an unusual occurrence for him. In fact, he claims it's the coldest he's ever felt in his life. Poor guy. How does he get wrangled into these things?

I got up just before sunrise, fed Ozzy his breakfast, and went down to finish our vetting. Sandy was a good sport and trotted Ozzy for me. By now, Ozzy knew we were competing and he was totally psyched. He had possibly the worst trot out of his life. He paced, cantered, and reared while doing his best wild mustang stallion impression. Thankfully, he was polite about being a jerk and did so well out of Sandy's personal space. We were all laughing as he came back across the line. The judge was less amused. Sandy informed me that this might work in our favor. It's better to have a bad trot out at the beginning and a good trot out at the end than the reverse. He wasn't likely to lose points on his final trot out unless he was lame! (This is why I'd like to stick to endurance, btw.)

We went to the ride meeting, calculated our start times, donned our pinnies, and ate breakfast.

Then it was back to the trailer to get the horses tacked up (and the costumes put together). Upon Sandy's request, we went as the cast from the Madagascar movies. I was Alex. Ozzy was Marty. Sandy was one of the penguins. Emu was Melman. Sherry was the skinniest Gloria ever, and Daisy got to carry the rest of the characters, including King Julian, around on her cantle. I thought it was pretty hilarious, and that Ozzy made a fantastic zebra. I even wrapped his tail in zebra print vet wrap (and asked him to pretty please not buck because of it). I had a pretty sad excuse for a lion costume. I made it for under $20, including the world's ugliest sweat suit, and it scared the daylights out of my dogs. The best part was that it was cold enough for our decorative rump rugs to actually serve a purpose, hooray!

Before long, we were mounted up and heading for the starting line. Ozzy, despite his earlier antics, was on his best behavior, and I rode along at a lively walk on a loose rein. Our starting time was 10:13. Ideal ride time was 4h20m to 4h50m, including a half hour hold. I did the math in my head, and glanced at my watch.

Sherry, Sandy, and I rode together, but I spent most of the first loop a good distance in front of them to keep Ozzy settled. I didn't want him swapping gaits back and forth to go behind the other horses, and I didn't want him chasing to keep up. We'd trot until I lost sight of the girls, then walk until they caught back up. It made for a nice 6 mph average, and kept Ozzy from wearing himself out, especially in the deep sand.

And then I came off my horse less than five miles in. Whoops! We were going at a pretty good clip down a long, straight stretch of trail, when Ozzy spooked at a big log on our left. He did the stop dead, teleport left, and spin all at the same time. I lost my left stirrup and didn't have enough rein or neck to help catch myself. I did try to push myself back into the saddle, but I was on my bad leg and decided it would hurt less to take a tumble than it would to try to stay on.

Good zebra.

All the miles and miles of soft, sandy trail and he had to dump me on the hard-packed road. *sigh* I had a bruised butt, but no other injuries. I'm actually glad to get it out of the way. I've been dreading having a fall since I got hurt. It's good to fall off an have it be no big deal. I'm hoping that will be the last mental block from February.

Ozzy trotted back up the way we came, where Sandy and Sherry caught him. Sherry told me that she didn't quite put together what was going on at first. She described it as, "OMG! What just jumped out of the bushes at Ozzy? Is that a lion?! O, it's Dom..."

I re-mounted my horse and carried on. Thankfully, the other 22 miles were far less eventful.

The trails this year were gorgeous. We got to see a lot of water, and a variety of sand and pine tress (I joke, but there really are different landscapes if you pay attention down there). I even had a pretty good idea of where we were the entire time. I guess all those Pine rides are finally paying off.

After the first 15 miles, we had a half hour hold. Mike, who hadn't gotten roped into volunteering for a change, had set up our hold stuff and was standing by to help us as needed. I electrolyted Ozzy and he ate and drank well, dozing in between bites of food.

Ozzy vetted well, with good gut sounds and no sign of his arrhythmia. His P&R was 64/36 at 10 minutes. I also finally sucked it up and trotted my own horse. He did significantly better than he had at the vet-in. We had no soreness, no lameness, and no reason not to continue.

Sandy wasn't so lucky. Emu looked slightly off, and she decided to RO, especially since he's not her horse. It was the responsible decision, but we were sad to see her pull.

I had come in a few minutes before Sherry, but decided to wait for her out time so we could ride together. We did the last ten miles with Ozzy and Daisy trotting side by side. They were actually pretty well matched. We made good time, and mostly walked the last three miles or so. Ozzy still had plenty of energy to go, but we were going to beat our minimum time if we went any faster.

I think my favorite part of the ride was when we rode up to a big puddle across the trail. There was a little sign put up by ride management with an arrow pointing down. The sign simply read, "Water."
"O, is that what that is? I never would have guessed!" About 50 feet down the trail was another, equally big puddle. This one was not labeled. "Better be careful... this might be lava or something!"

Before I knew it, Sherry and I were riding down the power lines back to camp. We waited our required 20 minutes for final P&R. Ozzy was at 48/14, which is phenomenal for him!!!

It only took me six and a half years to get him one of these...

Then we did our final trot. He trotted out beautifully with good impulsion and willingness, but we don't ever practice in-hand circles, so we lost all that when it came time to circle. It's all handler error (and I was pretty much dying by the time I got done running in the deep sand). He paced a bit on his circles and was a little sluggish following me back, but the good news is that there was absolutely no sign of lameness. Good man!

It wasn't long before we were back at the vet for final hands-on. Ozzy had some back soreness on the right side, by the cantle. I wasn't having any leg pain so I suspect it's actually a saddle fit issue now. I had meant to put him back in the foam riser pad for the Devil, but I left it in Sandy's trailer after our Hangover Ride, and it never made it to ride camp. I really hope this isn't the start of a saddle fit battle. I've done multiple 50's with him in the Wintec, and he's never been even remotely sore in it. Then again, his body shape has changed significantly in that time (and I suspect he's a good candidate for swayback).

The awards ceremony was shortly after the final hands-on. I was thrilled to get our completion. Ozzy had officially made a comeback and it was all I could have hoped for.

Then I got my score card and was pleasantly surprised. We lost a point on P&R (required parameters were 44/12), and we lost two points on the back soreness. Ozzy also had some fill in his legs by the end of the ride (he has wind puffs all the time, and stocks up from standing in one spot for too long, so I'm not at all surprised) so we lost 2.5 points there as well.

And of course, we got butchered on the trot out, and lost another 2.5 points (intermittent pacing is frowned upon). Thankfully, we didn't get any lameness, toe dragging, muscle soreness, or lack of coordination. A look around revealed that everyone had gotten knocked pretty severely for their trot outs. At the risk of sounding like someone who is always making excuses, I think having the trot outs in deep sand in the middle of the parking area probably didn't benefit anybody. Sherry lost 4.5 points on her trot out, and I thought Daisy looked pretty good, if slightly slow/lazy.

So our final score was 92/100! I was delighted. Apparently, I have a CTR horse after all. Maybe I'll give the sport a fair shot after all. This also gives me hope that Ozzy might have some LD miles left in AERC still, but let's not get ahead of ourselves...

That night, we made a small bonfire and sat around drinking and having a good time. The dogs were delighted with all the attention (and snacks) they were getting, and we were up late laughing and joking. The highlight, of course, was Sandy trying to break a log only to have the log win. Julio looked very concerned as she lay flat on her back in the sand, her head lamp shining like a lonely beacon into the night sky, but the rest of us were too busy laughing to help her.

The following morning, Mike and I got to sleep in a bit. This time, Mike had wrapped himself in his subzero sleeping bag, and shoved the dogs over to my side of the truck. We both stayed toasty. With Chelsea riding another 10 miles on Clay, we were in no hurry to get home.

Herbie and Julio were basically having the best weekend of their lives. At home, people frequently cross the street to avoid my two 'scary' dogs, but at a CTR, they were surrounded by animal lovers and people who aren't afraid of big dogs. They got loved and petted and fed and complimented. They even won over the affections of some teen girls from a local intervention program, who were initially scared of them. Before long, they were getting face kisses and butt wiggles galore! It's hard to say no to that.

After getting Ozzy taken care of and camp basically wrapped up, Mike and I took the dogs for a walk to the neighboring sand pit in the woods, where we played a rousing and exhausting game of fetch. Julio is starting to catch up to Herbie in speed and fitness, and I don't think he'd ever played in sand before that weekend. Both dogs were completely delighted.

I spent the afternoon volunteering for P&R while Mike and the dogs relaxed. There, I got to meet a giant mule named Billy John. It wasn't long before I realized that he looked familiar because I knew him! It was the mule who was competing in dressage at DVHA when I had CP there last summer! Apparently, Billy does it all, including driving. This was his first CTR!

Once Kevin was done for the weekend, we sent Daisy on her way. Then, once Chelsea completed, we got the other horses loaded up and were on our merry way. I was the first stop of the afternoon and had Ozzy put away and Dancer fed before dark. I thanked Sherry profusely for picking us up, but let her go ASAP since she still had a long drive ahead of her.

From there I went home to wash the sand and grime off of myself, then sat back to edit photos and video.

It feels so good to compete successfully with Ozzy again. I never thought I'd see the day!

As usual, I've got a better feel for what works and what doesn't. The LyteNow really does the trick for Ozzy. It gets him drinking when I need it and keeps his heart under control (I could actually see it kicking in on the heart monitor at one point). I need to invest in saddle bags (I've been doing it long enough, don't you think?) The endurance stirrups fix my right knee issue completely (and my leg seems to be getting stronger with every ride). I am a little concerned with this new back soreness issue, but I'm hoping being more vigilant about swapping diagonals, and putting him back in the 'miracle pad' will resolve that. More than anything, I'm just glad to see him stay sound and stay peppy. I'm glad Sandy and Sherry talked me into giving it a try.

I actually remembered to charge and bring my helmet cam. I tried to get our four and a half hour ride down to under ten minutes, but I haven't bothered to fix the sound. Feel free to fast forward.