The Equestrian Vagabond

MOUNTED RIBBON GAMES

The Equestrian Vagabond — Tue, 07 Oct 2008 19:39:22 GMT

Tuesday October 7 2008

I watched Mounted Games (similar to Gymkhana) in the Horse of the Year Show in New Zealand last year - what FUN!!!

I think you'd do a bit better with ponies than our bigger and not-quite-so-nimble endurance horses, so Connie and I invented our own Mounted Ribbon Games as Connie and I pulled the ride ribbons from the Hart Creek loop.

The rules were, if you can pull a ribbon off a bush without getting off your horse, you can clip it in your horse's mane. If you drop it, or have to get off to get the ribbon, then no hanging it in the mane. The horse with the most ribbons in their mane wins.

It got a bit more challenging as, on the trail climbing out of Hart Creek, the bushes got smaller and smaller, and so the ribbons got harder and harder to reach.

Now Mac is a great ranch horse: i.e. he knows how to stand still. So standing still while I leaned off his side to pluck a low ribbon was no problem. It took a little convincing at first for Finneas to stand still for Connie.

After a while he was getting the hang of it, and stood like a statue even when Connie had to reach for a ribbon almost on the ground. She was able to get the ribbon... but then she got stuck hanging off Finny's side and couldn't get back on! So she had to bail. No pinning it in his mane.

She tried another one almost on the ground, and got the ribbon, but when she tried to shove herself back in the saddle - grabbing onto Finny's breastcollar, which caused him to throw his head up which helped shove her back in the saddle - she dropped the ribbon. So no ribbon in his mane.

Here (on the black horse) Connie demonstrates the almost-right-way to retrieve a ribbon. (Except for the falling off - or bailing - part.)

Here (on the white horse) I demonstrate the proper way to retrieve a ribbon. Although, if you'll notice, my ribbon was a few inches higher, and my horse was shorter or my arms longer than Connie's.

By now, our bags were getting full (most of the ribbons didn't have clothespins, and were just tied on the bushes), so we just started clipping any and all ribbons on clothespins in their manes, because the horses just looked cool.

At the end of the trail on the plateau, we had a couple of paper plates to pick up; the horses wore them too.

Next year when we put ribbons out, we'll put points on the ribbons. 1 point for an easy ribbon, 3 points for a ribbon you have to lean out of your saddle for, and 5 points for a ribbon near the ground.

Maybe Steph could add this as a new riding competition option, in addition to the 50 mile rides, the 25 mile rides, and the Trail Rides...

HORSEPLAY

The Equestrian Vagabond — Tue, 07 Oct 2008 19:12:39 GMT

Tuesday October 7 2008

Jose was all revved up this beautiful morning, and he couldn't get anybody to play with him.

So he entertained himself.

Raced in and out of the hay pen, down by the girls in their back pen, up toward the mountains, back into the hay pen, around and around the other 6 geldings who either kept eating hay or looked at him like he was nuts. Around and around he went, tail up in the air, sprinting like a madman.

He kicked at Stormy as he went by, then stopped to paw, slam the earth, kick up dust, and he was off again.

Happy horse.

LAWN MOWER

The Equestrian Vagabond — Tue, 07 Oct 2008 08:19:15 GMT

Monday October 6 2008

If it's not one thing, it's another.

I was riding Stormy, until the last time he got shoes, and he went lame again with his navicular. His front feet were finally getting better, then he came up so lame behind that he was on three legs (he pulled a butt muscle, probably sprinting in from up the canyon). He finally got over that, and just as I was about to throw a saddle on him, he got a rather wicked bite on his back, where the saddle goes.

So I just keep waiting to ride him again.

For now he can't be the Local Macro Mailman, the Building Inspector, the Oreana Bookmobile, the Trails Assessor, or the Dog Walker.

Instead he found a new chore that doesn't take a saddle.

The lawn mower ran out of gas, so Stormy took over the mowing job.

TIPPING THE SCALES

The Equestrian Vagabond — Sun, 05 Oct 2008 21:20:54 GMT

Sunday October 5 2008

Is my horse fat, or not?

Look at him from the back, and I don't think so.

Look at him from the side, and he's one gooooooooooooood lookin horse.

Look at him from the front... ... well, let's just not look at him from the front.

It's all beside the point anyway, fat, not fat, Stormy's a whole lotta horse to love, and I love my horse a lot.

FLIP-FLOP (BY QUICKIE)

The Equestrian Vagabond — Fri, 03 Oct 2008 18:59:34 GMT

Friday October 3 2008

So, there I was, getting all fat and lazy this summer, when I got recruited to go back to endurance work. I wasn't real excited about that, but when Steph came up with the idea to breed me and Princess to that Creampuff stallion "Stoner" or somesuch next door, Princess was instantly in love, but me? Noooooooosiree I said! The humans thought they'd entice me and I'd come around by leaving me in the pen with the big stud (so he thought of himself) but after a few squeals and pretty well-aimed kicks, the humans gave up. Even after leaving me there for a few days I was totally uninterested. I wasn't having anything to do with that. I had my only baby Dudley a few years ago, and he broke the mold. I'd rather go back to the endurance trails than have another baby!

Well. They were serious about the endurance riding again. M kept taking me out, and making me work, up the washes and up the hills, working up big sweats, slowly slimming down my big belly I'd been working so hard to maintain.

And then, here came fall, and the humans became all busy with this and that, cleaning up, moving things around, driving off on the 4-wheeler with flying ribbons, and then one day a horse trailer pulled in, and another, and another, and well, I knew what was up with that. The 5-day endurance ride was about to start, and I was going to have to do an endurance ride!

I did a 25-mile ride one day, and I was thinking, well, this isn't that bad, but then two days later I got put in a 50-miler, and boy was I cranky by the second loop! By the third and last loop I was back into my rhythm and I rather enjoyed myself, but man - 50 milers again? I'd much rather be fat and lazy than have to work at endurance again.

In fact... that Cremello stud Stony next door really doesn't look all that bad. A few days after the ride, I decided he was pretty darn hot, as a matter of fact. And so, the humans took me next door to stay with him a few days.

He's my new boyfriend. See how good we look together? I think having another Dudley isn't such a bad idea.

Check back with me next September.

2008 OWYHEE CANYONLANDS DAY 5 - PICKETT CREEK CANYON

The Equestrian Vagabond — Tue, 07 Oct 2008 19:14:44 GMT

Sunday September 28 2008

It was another ride day for me, and another ride for Quickie - 50 miles, gasp! Loop 1 started with a short but steep climb up onto the northern flats, and I left the starting line a wee bit early, leading Quickie up on foot, laying hoofprints along a new trail I'd flagged a few days earlier. Halfway up the hill, where the trail became obvious, I peeled off my jacket (warm from the climb) and waited for all the 14 other 50-mile riders to follow so I could point the way. I climbed aboard Quickie and followed the last two in the golden sunrise, and I had the great pleasure of spending most of the day with Jacinta Denton and her gorgeous gelding Krasniy Kumeer.

The perennially-hilarious Jennifer LeBlanc was in our company for half of the first 19-mile loop, out on the northwest side of Pickett Creek, to the base of the Owyhee mountains, past "Booby Rock" (a tamer name than what we normally use), where Jennifer took a picture of 4 of us, across Pickett Creek, and back toward home on the southeast side of the creek. Going out we used a new trail I'd never been on, or even seen - an old canal that was probably dug in the 1800's and that provided some nice footing.

On the flats approaching Pickett Creek Canyon, Steve Bradley had set up to take pictures. We spaced out for photos. Quickie had been fairly agreeable heading out on the trail, but the closer we got to home, the feistier she got. All of Jacinta's photos had been at the trot on Kumeer, and she wanted a cantering picture, so she nudged him to a higher gear in front of us. Quickie thought she was being left behind, so Steve almost got a picture of me getting bucked off Quickie. I hung on, but it was a bit of a wild ride the last two miles back into camp. I wasn't so sure I'd get Quickie to leave camp two more times today!

Loop 2, at 14 miles, was up along the Rim Trail again, though this time, Steph added a short half-mile detour through the Pickett Canyon Narrows. She had debated about it for a while, but decided the very rocky path would be worth the terrific canyon scenery. Red rock walls rose above us as we entered the narrow mouth, and we walked right up the middle of the rocky creek (a bit of water up here), ducking under overgrown vines (fortunately not poison oak, as I found out first hand clearing the trail!), and finally coming out past the cliffs through the sagebrush, and up and over a little pass that dumped us back onto the regular Merri's trail that led out of the canyon and up onto the flats.

We did the Rim Trail to the north this time - doing trails backwards here in the high desert make them look like completely new trails at times - but with some of the same company, Nance and Jazzbo, Tom and Frank. It was getting warm, and Quickie already has a winter coat started (does this mean it's going to be another early, cold, and long winter again?), so we took advantage of all the plentiful water troughs and dunking buckets (delivered and kept filled by neighbors Carol and Rick) out there, Quickie drinking and me sponging her.

We were joined by Chris Yost - on his backup horse Meadow Manasseh, as his 4-day horse Turbo BLY was sore this morning from a stone bruise. Kara Yost was also done after 4 days, her horse being sore from scratches. Chris had been near the front of the pack this morning, but he and Naomi Preston had taken a detour along the wrong trail this morning, and had done some extra miles. It sounds easy, following ribbons, especially if the trail is well marked... but what is easy is spacing out, losing your concentration for a short time. As Tom said, "It takes only one ribbon!" and you're going the wrong way.

Quickie got even feistier heading home on this loop, as we were in a group of 4 or 5 riders, and Quickie was in back. No chance of me taking any more pictures now, and instead a good chance of Quickie getting mad enough to buck me off - and I had no carrots to bribe her with!

But we made it into camp with me still on top of the saddle, and after our vet check and 50 minute hold, Quickie and I waited for Jacinta to go out on our last 10 mile loop. Nance and Tom had gone out ahead of us, so it was just Jacinta and I, and Quickie once again didn't seem to mind going back out on the trail with Kumeer. We trotted along the rim above Bates Creek Road, and were caught by Paul Wells, on his 5th day of riding 2 different horses. His wife Laurie was very disappointed she couldn't make it to this ride. Something about girlfriends having scheduled a vacation this week. Don't friends and family members know by now to schedule vacations and weddings and babies around the endurance ride calendar?

We crossed Bates Creek Road, worked our way back up onto the flats, and headed in the direction of the purple-blue Owhyee Mountains, trotting fast and steadily, following clouds of dust that whirled up into the air and that must have been seen for miles around. "You couldn't be an outlaw here!" Jacinta commented. Quickie was in a better mood on this loop - she probably knew it was her last one, and she had just Kumeer for company, not a herd to stir her up.

I never forget to be amazed at these endurance horses I ride. Mile after mile, they go, and go, and keep going. Quickie was not at her fittest, but we flew along in her big half-Orlov trot, pounding along the trail, for miles without easing up.

Another thing that amazes me about endurance riding is how the horses make everybody feel - young and old people, sick and healthy and injured people - it's just good for the body and soul. "You know," Jacinta said. "I look in the mirror, and see that I'm old. But when I'm out riding a horse, I feel just like I did 30 years ago." Riding an endurance horse challenges your body and mind, and lets you share the amazing ability of a horse that will willingly (most of the time) go 15, or 25, or 50, or 100 miles down a trail, year after year, (this is Quickie's 11th season of endurance riding) on trails that you'd never bother to go out and see on foot.

And when we got to the top of the Pickett Creek Canyon, once again I got off Quickie and led her down the hill, and stayed off of her and walked her on in to camp, because she'd done enough today, and I knew I'd be fighting to hold her back on the way in!

Many personal and equinal milestones were reached at this year's Owyhee Canyonlands ride. Cindy Bradley, who's been plagued with health problems for at least the last year that have prevented her from riding, rode her first 50 since then on day 1, and rode and completed again on days 3 and 5. As Steph said, "She's back!"

18-year-old Frank, with Tom aboard, reached his 4000 mile mark, and with the look of him, he could easily and happily go another 4000.

Barbara Holmes, who with her husband Grant came down from Canada, made it a tradition of riding Rhett on her birthday (and after very recent knee surgery), having a great time and finishing second on the LD today.

Five riders completed all five days of the LDs, and four riders completed all 5 days of 50's. For the second year in a row, Naomi Preston and Karlady were the overall 5-day winners, and they took home the overall Best Conditioned prize also.

And of course, most importantly, the Raven completed another 155 miles.

2008 OWYHEE CANYONLANDS DAY 4 - HART CREEK CANYON

The Equestrian Vagabond — Thu, 02 Oct 2008 16:33:52 GMT

Saturday September 27 2008

Ride manager Steph had originally planned to ride her favorite horse Rhett the first 3 days of the ride... but she soon realized that would be tough, even with Regina Rose helping day-manage the ride. But this weekend there would be plenty of volunteers, and Regina had everything under control, so not only did Steph get to ride, but I got to ride again too!

And it was one of the prettiest days of the 5 days - if one can really be chosen over the other - the 17-mile loop 1 for both the 55-milers and 30-milers led to and through Hart Creek, right up to the base of the Hart Creek Canyon notch, with a climb above it onto a steep and thin ridge; the last loop for both distances followed the Hart Creek Rim Trail - a beautiful view looking down on the morning's trail.

Today I rode Rushcreek Mac and Connie rode Jose, and in the cool morning we zipped along the trails, over hills, through washes, weaving through sagebrush and big yellow rabbit brush to dry Hart Creek. We walked through the rocky creek, below the cottonwoods and willows with just a touch of yellow in their leaves, and the quailbush just beginning to turn maroon. There was one little spot of water when we crossed the creek at the Oreana Savannah (a hidden cabin), and Mac chose this spot to pee, right when the other horses were drinking. Argh!

"ARGH!" said everybody whose horses were drinking just downstream. But what could I do? You don't want to stop a horse in - pardon the pun - midstream, so, Mac just finished his business and we moved on. I of course never heard the end of that all day, "Hey Merri, did you let your horse pee in this water trough, too?" Argh!

Mac and Jose were both working hard enough this morning that Connie and I both dismounted to lead them up the stiff climb onto the ridge. By the time we reached the top, 4 of us were huffing and puffing, and we were quite hot in the cool air. Whew! That was my Dog Walk again for the day. Great views of the lowlands behind us and horses coming up the ridge, and the Owyhee Mountain range in front of us.

Back in camp, both horses passed their vet check and settled into their hay and alfalfa snacks. It's good for them to eat hay before they dive into their grain. After 15 minutes I mixed some grain up; Mac buried his nose in his bucket, and Jose turned his nose UP at his. What? Jose not wanting grain? Something was wrong! I noticed he was breathing fast, and he had a somewhat glazed glint in his eye... uh oh... you get that feeling of somebody punching you in the stomach because you know something is WRONG. And then I heard a weird noise - a gurgling, coming from his throat - Jose was choking! Connie and I immediately took him to the vets; Robert Washington, who said he'd never seen or heard a choke quite like this, worked on massaging his esophagus. The worst thing you can do is put water down their throat; it's best to let the horse work it out on his own if he can. Gene Nance asked if we'd been feeding him leafy alfalfa - yes we had; he said sometimes the dry leaves get all balled up and can get stuck, so it's better to wet them before they are consumed. (You can bet that we were over-diligent in tearing off the leaves of alfalfa and soaking it before feeding any of it the rest of the ride.)

After several minutes of Robert massaging, and Jose gurgling and trying to swallow, finally he gave a big sigh, licked his lips, and his eyes didn't look so glazed. Connie took him to the grass, where he wasn't real interested in eating but a few bites, but eventually, after Mac and I went back out on the trail, Jose went back to eating normally, with Connie keeping a close eye on him. Poor Jose! He'd never had any problems at a ride, and it was kind of rattling to watch him choke and to worry about him.

Sometimes Mac can be a big chicken if he goes out by himself, and it was easier just to put him behind company. On loop 2 it was my luck to latch onto good company in Frank and ("his publicist") Tom Noll, and Shahcolate Chip and his rider Jeff Stuart. There he was, the high-headed spirited Frank, working on his approximately two thousandth Owyhee mile, dragging Tom along with his reins double wrapped around Tom's hands (yikes!). "I started him on Adequan shots a while back, and they took 5 years off his life. Maybe I shouldn't have done that!" We decided if Frank wrote a book, it would start out like this: "All I ever heard out of Tom's mouth was, 'Slow down!' " The title of every chapter would be, "Idiot!" Have you seen the made-in-southern-Idaho movie Napoleon Dynamite? Frank, we imagined, uses the same tone of voice calling his rider "Idiot!" when he wants to go out front, and when he wants to go faster, the opposite of what Tom wants. We imagined that Frank uses this word quite often.

We moved right along on the 22-mile loop, across the highway to day 2's Vet Check, where we had no hold, but we stopped to partake of the water and hay still out there. It was in the low 80's today, and I let Mac fly toward home behind Jeff's big-striding horse and Frank (well, sometimes Tom used us for a speedbump for Frank, who was mightily insulted by that). I wanted to see what Mac was made of, how fit he really was, because his pulse rate had always been down to 60 or below as soon as we arrived at the vet checks in his previous rides. But it was hot today, and we were moving pretty fast for being only Mac's 3rd 50-mile ride. Back in camp for the second vet check, it took him 10 minutes to come down to the 60 bpm criteria. He hung at 70 for a while, then at 64. It took sponging with cool water, and standing in the shade to finally get him down to 60. Frank was a little slow coming down also, as were several others at this time of the warm day, one of the pulse takers said.

Mac trotted out well, and ate heartily during the 50 minute hold, but I was going to slow down on the last 16 mile loop, even if it meant I had to take ol' Spookums out by himself. But Tom wanted to slow down also (he did not consult with Frank), since he was aiming to complete all 5 days of 50's on Frank, and though Jeff's horse was fresher, he stuck with us. In the middle of the loop, when Mac was really dogging it, I told them to go on, but Jeff said, "We've been the Three Musketeers for this long, we may as well stick together!" As we were going out on our last loop on the canyon road, we saw the leaders coming in to the finish on the trail through the sagebrush off to our left. Canadian Jan Marsh on Morning Line (they also won Day 1) was in front, followed by, 50 yards back, Steph and Rhett. "I'm not going to catch her!" Steph yelled at us when we hollered at her. Rhett was tossing his head as he darted through the sagebrush, looking a bit miffed that he wasn't first back home. Following a few minutes behind them were 9-year-old Barrak Blakely and his mom Gabriella; Barrak was riding Alias, the same horse he'd been pulled on for a bruised foot on Day 1. Happily, they completed, Barrak finishing third. He was the only junior rider at the Owyhee Canyonlands!

Eventually moving up onto the Rim Trail, apparently we just missed a big fat rattlesnake, seen by Karen Steenhof who'd just passed us. We were caught by Lynne White, Chris and Kara Yost, and Nance Worman. Nance and the Yosts were working on their 4th day of 50's on their horses; Nance and Jazzbo had taken a tumble during Day 2 and Jazzbo had skinned his knees and his nose, but Jazzbo, tough little bugger he is, was still motoring right along.

Mac was acting so weary I insisted they all go on ahead, and only Tom Noll stayed with us. But wouldn't you know, turning for home, Mac found his second wind - more like a first wind, and I almost couldn't find the brakes! Yea - I know what he's made of now! We got to the top of Pickett Creek Canyon, and I got off to lead Mac down, and I decided to stay off and walk in, because I knew there would be no holding Frank back, and I didn't want to fight with Mac's brakes on the way in either, so, I took another Dog Walk (minus the dogs, who were probably busy mooching food off ridecampers) back home into camp.

Mac, former Rushcreek Ranch Cow-Horse, successfully completed his 3rd 50-mile ride; and had we slowed down just a bit, we would have come in with Tamara and Aaruba, who also successfully completed their 55 mile ride, Aaruba's second one.

Tom, Nance, Chris and Kara Yost, Kim Black, and Naomi Preston all completed their 4th day in a row on their 50-mile horses.

Besides the 28 horses on the 55-mile ride (25 completed), and the 18 horses (all completed) on the 30-mile ride, there were two trail riders who came to spend the weekend and ride. One was Phil Carroll and his Tennessee Walking Horse, Timer (Go Gaiters!). I'd met Phil at the Pink Flamingo ride in July, and again at the Old Selam ride in August. I'd been talking up the Owyhee trails, and Phil and his wife Margaret were able to come this weekend. Phil and his friend chose to ride the Hart Creek Trail - excellent choice! - and from the story Timer wrote, it appears they all enjoyed it.

Dr Peterson gave another InfoLecture, this one on the importance of warming up your horse in the mornings from the physiological perspective; I never had any class in college where the 'professor' had such rapt 'students'. Dr Peterson then segued into one of his terrific Cowboy Poems about the wilderness. If he doesn't watch out, we'll be bringing him here principally for the Education and Entertainment duties, with a little vetting thrown in on the side.

2008 OWYHEE CANYONLANDS DAY 3 - SINKER CANYON

The Equestrian Vagabond — Thu, 02 Oct 2008 07:59:17 GMT

Friday September 26 2008

Another day on the trail! This time it was the 30 mile ride through Sinker Creek Canyon. And it was on 18-year-old Quickie. Quickie is not too excited about anything but eating any more, but, since she didn't want to get pregnant this summer, she went back to work. (I bet now she was rethinking spurning the advances of that gorgeous Cremello stallion, LJ Owyhee Moonstone next door.) Today Quickie and I escorted Suri on his first 25 mile ride with Connie aboard.

Now, while ride manager Steph Teeter did rake miles and miles, and miles, of trails (did anybody notice?), Sinker Creek was R-O-C-K-Y. Pure rock, in fact. Which you pretty much had to take at walking speed, which was a good thing, because it was so scenic.

Two-track roads and cross-desert trails over BLM land led us to where the out-vet check would be at about 5 miles from camp. We stopped for a good drink and leisurely munch of hay that was already set out, and as we continued on over the flats toward Sinker Creek, the first 50-milers (who'd started an hour before the LD) were already cantering back towards us and the vet check from their 20 mile loop through Sinker Canyon. We moseyed our way to Sinker - it was an educational day for Suri - and when we got to the top of the hill leading down, Quickie stopped. I couldn't get her to move again - she was waiting for me to get off and lead her down. So I did.

Sinker Canyon was just getting its first whiff of fall, the cottonwoods and willows just starting to turn with a little color. Our rocky trail wound back and forth through the flowing creek, through tunnels of overgrown willows, some that we had to duck under; and the tall red cliff walls kept us in the shade and cool air. Halfway through the canyon we passed some ruins of an old cabin, and a little further on we came across some cattle. Cattle aren't normally scary, but when they start making rustling noises in the brush behind you, and then you start hearing non-cow hooves on rocks, and splashes, and then human voices where they shouldn't be, things in the overgrown canyon do become rather spooky.

And it wasn't Suri, the green horse who spooked while leading in front, but the old hand Quickie following behind who was scared. It could have been a cougar back there, after all... Quickie wanted to take the lead and get the heck out of the canyon. So Suri let the old lady move to the front, and he protected her from cougar attacks from behind, and we made our way along the creek-bed out of the canyon, following an old road carved into the shale cliffside up onto the flats.

John Teeter riding an ATV followed behind the last riders (just behind us) closing some of the gates we'd passed through, and he noticed a mysterious pool of blood beside one of them. A rather substantial pool... but no sign of humans or horses in distress, no tangled gates or wires, no torn up or scuffed ground... just a mystery. No complaining by anybody back at camp later in the day, either.

Coming into the vet check, the riders behind us caught up with us, and then the heated race for Turtle was on. Who could go slowest? The vet check crew was about ready to pack up and leave by the time we got there, and in fact they did pack up during our 50 minute hold, and they followed us down the road toward home with all the gear when we left.

We leisurely made our way along the 5 miles back to camp along the wash we went out on this morning, and even with me getting off Quickie to walk her in the last mile-and-a-half over the hard-packed road, I was still only 5th from last. Well, Quickie would have been quite insulted by the Turtle award!

Back at basecamp after the ride, I finally met Tamara of In the Night Farm, having just arrived with her horse Aaruba for tomorrow's 50 mile ride - their second 50 after a horrific near-fatal colic by Aaruba last October. Tamara and I had been following each other's blogs for a while, and in fact were both at the Old Selam ride in August, but just hadn't met yet.

Then there was my Nevada endurance riding pal, Krysta, who'd come from Reno with her mom and one horse, and room for two in the trailer - she was coming to look at DIEGO! My sweet stinker Diego - actually Kevin in Arizona's horse, but Diego loves me bestest and mostest - might be getting a new owner! And nobody better than Krysta, whose main horse Sinatra has been diagnosed with cancer : ( . It was good to see Krysta again, and if Diego must leave, I'd be happy to see him hop in Krysta's van. I think they are a match made in heaven.

The pool of blood mystery was solved when Vicki Green picked up her completion award for 12th place in the 30 at the awards dinner: she had been closing one of the gates, when the cheater bar slipped and smacked her in the nose and broke it. (Typical of crazy endurance riders, she still didn't complain, and would end up riding the two last days.)

All 29 horses finished the 30 mile ride, and 22 of 24 finished the 50 mile ride. One of the pulls was neighbor Carol on our riding buddy August. He stepped on a rock just wrong - after the rocky canyon, not in it - and ended up with a big stone bruise.

This was the first time Steph recalls there being more entries in the LD than the 50 mile ride. In fact, some people came to the Canyonlands just to ride in all the LDs... and this was the first time Steph offered 5 days of the shorter distance. For many LD riders it was a stress relief - you didn't have to worry about trying to get your horse through 5 days of 50's. You're out on the trail for 3 to 4 hours, and then you have the rest of the day to relax and visit, and enjoy the Owyhee Scenic Spa at the Teeter Rancho.

2008 OWYHEE CANYONLANDS DAY 2 - WILDHORSE BUTTE

The Equestrian Vagabond — Wed, 01 Oct 2008 15:38:12 GMT

Thursday September 25 2008

While the ride down to the Snake River petroglyphs was left out this year, riders still got a chance to ride along the Snake River , along the old Oregon Trail, and around the base of Wild Horse Butte, 300 feet high and almost a mile in diameter.

And I was one of them!

Connie rode Rushcreek Mac, and I rode my pal Jose Viola, (with Raven in Bag), on the 55-mile ride, and we picked up Helen Bonner on the way out of camp under cloudy skies with an orange strip of sunrise slicing the eastern horizon. Same ol' trails I've done at least 4 times now... up onto the north flats, across the highway, through part of the 485,000-acre Snake River Birds of Prey National Conservation Area, through a deep wash that gets so narrow you can touch the sides as you canter along if you dare to let go of the reins, on a big loop around Fossil Butte, into the vet check at 18 miles, back out on a big 38 mile loop to the Snake River and back to the vet check, and 12 miles back into camp.

And they never get old. Every time I ride the trails out here, even around the house, I'll see something I never noticed before - a pile of boulders, the angle of a wash, a fold in the hills that suddenly looks unusual, a different game trail I haven't tried yet. Different lighting - different times of the day or the year - add yet another element to the trails and the Owyhee mountains on the horizon. And it always makes me think of the pioneers in the 1800's that traversed the area when they had to blaze their own trails - especially when I'm hot and dusty and tired... and I know I have a hot shower and cold Dr Pepper awaiting me back at the house.

A thin cloud cover kept the day 5-7 degrees cooler than a baking sun would have, and the bugs weren't so bad along the ever-scenic Snake this time. We were cruising along with our horses - Jose wanted to go faster faster faster! - and Mac was pushing a bit to keep up with Jose - but we'd started out at the back of the pack (somebody couldn't get ready to leave the starting line on time), and we stayed there. Everybody seemed to be cruising about the same speed and staying in their same positions.

Now, a word about the out vet checks here. Riders leave their gear bags in a pile in the morning, where the volunteers (namely neighbors Linda and Mike) load them into the horse trailer, drive to the out vet check, and unload the bags. Some riders pack efficiently - a little food for the rider and horse - in a bag that is small and light. Connie and I packed a bag that was very big and extraordinarily heavy. So heavy, that I had to have help from Mike carrying it to where Connie and I set up. "What've you got in there, a body?" Well - it was lots of treats for us humans (Connie doesn't ride anywhere without a Goodie Bag, and this one was full, and of course we had to have a few Starbucks coffee drinks, and lots of frozen water bottles) and horses (lots of beet pulp - wet and therefore heavy, and some dry grain, and carrot treaties). We hadn't even put any blankets in, or hay, like we normally would! We had to make sure that we and our horses wouldn't go hungry, no matter what the weather or trail conditions. Mac discovered all the goodies in Connie's human Goodie Bag and was nosing around in it trying to help himself, while dripping wet beet pulp all over us.

The trails were mostly soft (and just starting to get a bit dried out and dusty), the company and conversations good, and the ride really was coming to an end quickly; too soon, we were zipping along the last plateau top towards home. We had to pass a shortcut turnoff to our house that Jose and Mac both knew well, but we didn't have any trouble keeping the boys cruising past it, to the downhill trail (Merri's Trail) at the end of our Pickett Creek Canyon. There, when we stopped to get off to walk down the hill, Connie found Mac had thrown a front shoe.

We just walked the whole two miles on foot back into camp - it felt good to stretch the leg muscles after much steady, fast trotting. Actually, it only felt good once I could walk with my bad kneecap... which worked itself out after a half mile or so. Jose's a fast walker, so I had a good workout keeping up with him. That was my daily dog walk... only the dogs weren't with me (and boy, did they need their daily walks, as they were ballooning out from all the food they were begging at the ride dinners!) And we did it - another 50 miles of trail for me and my great pal Jose.

29 of 30 horses finished the 55 mile ride, and all 21 riders finished the 30-miler. Evidently many of them were gaited horses again, as evidenced by the many "Go Gaiters!" cheers during the awards. Apparently they also kidnapped Steph (she went to their trailer on the pretext of looking for somebody or something) and they plied her with a (?) shot of tequila, so she had a good time conducting the ride meeting.

The well-fed, jocular and sometimes rowdy group of endurance riders and families were quiet as church mice as Dr Michael Peterson gave one of his very popular informational lectures, this one on the mechanics of feeding beet pulp to endurance horses.

Highlight of the day had to be the completion of the 30-mile ride by Skyla Stewart and her 27-year-old - that's TWENTY-SEVEN years old - horse AW Habod. He had a great time - as you can see from the story Habod himself wrote.

Then there was Jacinta Denton, who won the 25 on her lovely gelding Krasniy Kumeer. She was so excited receiving her award - "I've never won anything in my life!"

2008 OWYHEE CANYONLANDS DAY 1 - CASTLE CREEK

The Equestrian Vagabond — Wed, 01 Oct 2008 15:38:00 GMT

Wednesday September 24 2008

Day 1 was the traditional loop southeast out to Castle Creek Canyon and back for the 50 milers, and a shorter loop in the same direction for the 25 milers. I spent the day helping at the out vet check for the 25 milers. Neighbors Linda and Mike set up with horse trailer, hay, gear bags, hot dogs, and water near an old homestead, and were then joined by rider-but-not-riding-today Neil, Dr Robert Washington and me. We passed our waiting time by exploring the buildings that were still standing. One was occupied by a screech owl, who almost stole Dr Robert Washington's tiny dog off his leash, and who fluffed up to look as big as a great horned owl by the time a few of us peeked in and bothered him. It's probably the busiest he'd ever seen his quiet little spot in the desert.

Excitement on today's trail included a quite deep beaver pond on Castle Creek that riders had to wade through (or jump - hold on!). Steph had warned riders of it at the previous night's ride meeting, saying it was up to her hips when she went through it. "Were you on foot or on your horse!?" Then there was the rogue rattlesnake or two that more than one horse was surprised by and jumped over.

38 of 40 riders finished the 50, and all 14 riders finished the 25 miler. Jan Marsh from Canada won the 50 miler in a speedy 4 hours and 29 minutes.

Today's horses and riders represented a good spectrum of the endurance riding pie: the fleet four-footed included Arabians and mustangs and gaited horses and mules. The intrepid riders included the youngest rider - Barrak Blakely, 9 years old and riding with his parents (unfortunately his horse was pulled on the 50 for lameness), and oldest rider - 67 years young Jacinta Denton.

Milestone of the day's ride was Karen Bumgarner, who with today's completion reached her 20,000 mile mark. Today she rode her horse Thunder - yes, the one who dumped her on a training ride last November and ran off and went missing for 6 days and had many worried endurance riders out looking for him. He is looking like a seasoned endurance horse now.

For those of you who don't quite grasp the distance of riding horses for 20,000 miles, that would be like riding from Oreana to Los Angeles to Orlando to New York and back to Oreana. Twice. With a side trip thrown in from Oreana to Anchorage. And back. Plus a ride into Boise. And back.

She received a fitting special award... a little Pokey horse (of Gumby and Pokey fame), and I'll bet she has many more thousands left in her stirrups.

2008 OWYHEE CANYONLANDS 5-DAY RIDE

The Equestrian Vagabond — Tue, 30 Sep 2008 13:44:04 GMT

Tuesday September 23 2008

Another fall arrives and with it, another renewal of the Owyhee Canyonlands 5-day ride in the high desert of southern Idaho, and another gathering of a great fun group of endurance and trail riding friends, and a diverse group of horses (and 2 mules).

It's starting to get a bit harder to justify driving anywhere to endurance rides nowadays, but they came anyway: from Canada, Oregon, Washington, Nevada, Utah, and California - many of them took two days to get here - and of course Idaho. Attendance was down a bit, but the enthusiasm was high. There was the regular jovial Northwest group that comes year after year, and there were some newcomers, some of them part of a big group of Gaiters - riders on gaited riding horses, Tennessee Walkers and Paso Finos.

Not only was the unusual gait of those horses evident (they pace instead of trot, a sort of rolling motion interesting for the vets to watch 'trotting out'), but the presence of the riding group was conspicuous by the rousing cheers every night at the awards dinners: "Go Gaiters!"

There were the usual appreciated Owyhee amenities: nightly dinners by Blue Canoe Catering (Debra and Al), flush toilets, and hot showers. A good group of vets - Gene Nance, Robert Washington, and Michael Peterson - were here again, and the regular riders knew that at least one or two of those dinner nights would probably have an educational lecture by Dr Peterson, and, if we were really lucky, one of his famed Cowboy Poems.

The weather was just about perfect - mid 40's in the mornings, and high 70's to low 80's during the day. And if you were lucky enough to ride on Days 1 and 2, your trails were perfect - we had a good dumping of rain on the Sunday before the ride (the first time it's rained since oh, about 1942), which packed down the horrendous dust we've had all summer. The trails were pretty dusty by Day 5, but really, that's part of riding anyway, so there wasn't much complaining, just extra Ahhs and Ohhhs after the evening's hot showers.

The trails were mostly over BLM land, altitude around 3200', through picturesque canyons and washes and on flats and scenic ridges; crossing streams and following old trails through fiercely blooming yellow rabbit brush (conducive to sneezing). Starting times for the rides were a leisurely 8 AM for the 50's and 9 AM for the 30's

If you happened to not be tired enough every night to pass out, you could hear the resident great horned owls and screech owls hooting... but after the first day of riding, even the horses were sleeping soundly through the night.

THAT'S ALOTTA BULL

The Equestrian Vagabond — Mon, 22 Sep 2008 09:13:25 GMT

Monday September 22 2008

It happened again - another of Rohl's bulls hanging out up our Pickett Creek Canyon. (You think it has anything to do with us leaving the gate wide open up there?)

THIS time, I stayed off all equines, cowhorses or no, and Steph stayed off all equines and took the 4-wheeler to help Rohl and his cowhorse and cowdogs.

When they'd brought the bull down to house, I heard Rohl say, "He's a jumper," so I hung by my dead-lame horse in his pen to keep him quiet. I didn't want the bull jumping in the pen with my horse although I'm not sure exactly what I would have done if he did. "Go away bull! Shoo!" At least this bull was smaller than the last one, but he was still a BULL.

Instead the bull jumped/fell over a fence into our yard and Rohl followed him out the driveway. The bull then went through a tape fence into the grass pasture where Rohl finally got a rope on him. His horse and dogs held him till two more cowboys pulled up in a second trailer. "Where you guys been, on a hay ride?"

They jumped out, quickly unloaded their cowhorses and left the trailer open for the bull. Rohl's saddle was about to slip over his horse's neck from holding the bull, and he had to let go just as Cowboy #2 got his rope on him.

While a small crowd of endurance riders gathered to watch, Rohl got the end of his rope back, Cowboy #3 helped run both the ropes through the front of the trailer; and Rohl and Cowboy #2 pulled from the front while Cowboy #3 encouraged the bull from behind by pulling on his tail and trying to shove him forward. He finally hopped in.

Cowboys #2 and #3 loaded their horses in the compartments behind the bull; Rohl loaded up his steaming horse in his trailer and they headed off down the road.

We really ought to shut that gate up the canyon, so we don't get any more bulls here at the Spa, especially with the endurance ride starting in 2 days... but I don't think the gate works anyway.

TROIKA

The Equestrian Vagabond — Sat, 20 Sep 2008 13:55:09 GMT

Wednesday September 17 2008

Wow - I had the best ride ever today on Quickie, with Carol and August. Quickie usually doesn't have too much enthusiasm going out - especially if we're on our own, so I'm still rewarding (bribing) her, with carrots in my pack. (August has also figured out where the carrots are - he reaches over while we're walking or trotting alongside and tries to unzip the pouch they are in.)

Today we headed out a new wash I'd never been in (henceforth known as August Wash), and Quickie willingly enough kept up with August as we wound several miles down this wash, slightly downhill all the way, to the highway.

There we took a carrot break, and went along the highway till we hit a road for the return trip. When Quickie - half Arabian, half Orlov trotter - somewhat reluctantly heads out on the trail, she Arabian-trots. When she's headed home and she's into it, the Orlov comes out.

The Orlov breed was developed in Russia in the late 1700's when Count Alexei Orlov crossed Danish warmblood mares on Arabian stallions. They're popular in Russia and Scandinavia now for harness racing, and many are used around the world in driving sports. They're described as "sure-footed, endurable, robust, strong, tough," with "impressive trotting action" - all of which fits Quickie to a T, mostly on the way home.

Quickie's sire was Nature's Ballet, aka "Blue," who was owned the latter half of his life by Lari Shea (see her full story on Nature's Ballet). Blue was a son of Natourschik ("Nature Lover"), a 17-hand Orlov stallion donated as a thank you gift to an American by the Russian Premier, Nikita Khrushchev, in 1959.

Two other Orlov stallions were donated to complete a "Troika", or hitch of three stallions pulling a carriage, where the center horse trots, and the two outside horses canter with their heads and necks bent exaggeratedly to the outside - see this amazing picture. Natourschik was the center horse in his Troika, which toured around the US for a while.

Lari got Nature's Ballet - Blue - when he was 14. Over his endurance career, Blue completed Tevis 5 times in 5 attempts, and completed 2000 miles of the 3000 mile Great American Horse Race in 1976 (New York to California in 100 days).

Steph bought Nature's Quicksilver - Quickie, and Nature's Kruschev - Krusty, (both by Blue) from Lari Shea, as a 5 and 4-year-old. Krusty was a huge black gelding - 16 hands and (recently) 1250 lbs; he had a trot as fast as Quickie, and he competed in the 1999 Pan Americans in Canada (finished 9th), the 2000 World Endurance Championship in France 2000, and the World Cup in Dubai in 2001.

Quickie, now 18, has a bit of an attitude, (the carrots go a long way in convincing her she wants to still work), and she'd never ever have participated in a threesome pulling a carriage, had anybody been foolish enough to try. But she can fly at the trot when she wants to.

And we flew on the way home today. And we were maybe only going 3/4 speed, a big ground devouring trot, (maybe 15-16 mph?) but she kept it up, mile after mile. Carol and August were at a hand-gallop to keep up with us. When Quickie needed a breather, she'd slow down to a walk for a short stretch, then on her own she kicked back into high gear. Even at half-speed, I was just amazed. I let her choose her own speed - she didn't have to work hard, and she could have walked if she wanted, or she could have gone at an easier, moderate trot, but she didn't want.

She was probably marveling at her own great trot, and I know she was having fun, too.

WANNA BE A COWGIRL

The Equestrian Vagabond — Mon, 15 Sep 2008 06:56:59 GMT

Friday September 12 2008

Wanna Be a Cowgirl

Local rancher Rohl came out this morning with a horse and trailer to round up and pick up a bull of his who'd found his way down from the Owyhee mountains onto our upper 200 acres and had been hanging out a few days.

Steph and I thought we'd help him out, so she saddled up her fast endurance horse Rhett, and I saddled up the ol' ranch horse-turned-endurance horse Rushcreek Mac (Cowhorse being his first line of haywinning and all) and we set off up the canyon with Rohl on Rusty and Rohl's 3 cowdogs.

Well - I thought Mac could trot, and I knew Rhett could move fast, but Rusty the cowhorse on a mission had a business trot that any endurance horse would covet. Rusty's cowhorse shuffle left us cantering in his dust just to catch up with him. As we left the house, Rohl had made some joke about his old horse and old cowdogs and his old self riding and keeping up with some younger women, but after the first 5 acres were covered, it was easy to see who could outpace whom when it came down to Bull.

We were going to drive him back down to the house where Rohl had pulled his trailer into our lower paddock. We'd run him into a pen, and Rohl would load him up. Easy, right? Especially with 2 real ranch horses on the job.

We spotted the bull halfway up the canyon, and rode past him far enough, then turned and headed straight for him. The bull turned to face us, then took off like a jackrabbit alongside the creek, bulling his way through the tall sagebrush, and Rusty was off like a shot behind him, and Mac and I were off like a richocheting bullet in a metal tube after him. I don't have any idea what Steph was doing, because I was just trying to hang on. The faster we went - and it was getting faster and faster - the more excited Mac got, about yanking the reins out of my hands, and throwing his head straight up in the air (and therefore not watching the rough ground we were covering).

Rusty must have been floating above the ground because he kept putting more distance between us, while Mac was dodging this way and that through the sagebrush, over downed logs, leaping like a gazelle 3 feet in the air over one sage (okay, it couldn't have been 3 feet, but it sure felt like it). I quit trying to guide Mac because this was going much too fast, and I just threw the reins at him and hung on. I thought I'd be taking pictures of the whole thing - HA! In fact, I wasn't completely sure I'd be able to stay on for this wild ride.

The bull dove into the middle of the dry creek - very rocky - difficult footing, overgrown at places, and Rusty without any hesitation plunged right after him. Steph behind me said "I'm getting out of the creek!" while I was already pointing Mac out.

Steph headed to the right bank, Mac and I took the left, and we stayed a bit behind the commotion down there. You know, we were going to help keep the bull moving forward and not let him leap out and over the cliffs of the creek (about 20 feet high) and double back on us. Okay, in truth, there was no way in hell I would have tried bushwacking with Mac after them through the thick willows and downed branches and walls of tumbleweeds and logs and tripping rocks and monsters and god-knows-what-else that that were down there.

As it was, it was pretty excitingly alarming up top, because the bull below us was making a ginormously scary racket crashing through the brush in the creek; the 3 snarling barking frenzied cowdogs were attacking the bull; Rohl was yelling at the dogs to stop; and Rusty was just bulling his way along right after the whole thing.

Mac and I couldn't see any live creatures, but the brush and willows were swaying back and forth like a green threshing maelstrom machine, (think Children of the Corn), and it sounded like things were getting eaten in a body-ripping sort of procedure. Beneath me, Mac the Cowhorse was either soooooo excited about finally getting back to his beloved cows, or he was thinking, "Bee-Geeez-Us! Horses and cows and dogs never got ripped apart and eaten in Nebraska!" because he was - well, absolutely freaking out. I had to keep both hands on the steering wheel, and hope I wasn't going to get tossed down into the Bull Ring below.

Despite the predicament I was in - not knowing if I was going to get dumped off my horse (then laughed at - "She can ride a hundred miles but she can't stay on a COWHORSE when a COW is around!"), I think I still had it easier than Steph on Rhett, who, across the creek, was REALLY freaking out. Rhett is NOT a cowhorse, does not WANT to be a cowhorse, and probably thinks cows should not even exist on the planet. Rhett and Steph were spinning and galloping back and forth and climbing in the air - well, from what I could see on my glimpses of them anyway, as I had to keep my eyes on my own quandary. Mac was cantering in place, throwing his head down, throwing it up and back into my lap (I was really afraid I'd get smacked in the face again), snorting, trying to wheel - I wasn't quite sure what he was going to do.

Finally, the dogs laid off the bull, the bull chose to come out of the creek and continue moving down-canyon, and I was able to let Mac move forward instead of up and down. He was still terribly excited, but fortunately he was still somewhat controllable. Rohl stayed on the bull's tail, and Mac and I hung back and to the side in case he might have doubled back... though I'm sure Rohl and his dogs would have had it under control.

Steph crossed the creek and caught up with me and my dancing horse, and I think she said one word, something like - "#*+&%@^!!" and that's all she had to say for explanation, because that about summed it up for me too! Rhett's eyes were big as pie plates and he and Mac snorted back and forth like elephants - "SNOORRRTT (Did you see that BULL!?)" "SNOORRRTT (Did you SEE that bull!?)" "SNOORRRTT (Did YOU see that Bull!?)"

The bull made his way to and through the gate like he knew what he was doing, and on down to the pens at the house. He might have just stayed there waiting for John to open a gate into a pen - but then our cow-senseless dogs ran out thinking they'd help (Quincy came out to play!). The bull tried to make a break for the creek; I moved to join Rohl to keep the bull from the creek, when - uh oh, somehow it fell to ME to keep this BIG 1900-lb bull from breaking past us, along a fence to the creek. Heck I didn't know if Mac would face him down, but unthinkingly (no time to think!) I sent Mac right at the fence, and at the last second I about chickened out because the bull sure wasn't stopping.

I'm sure Mac knew what he was doing and wasn't afeared o' no bull, and he was much calmer now, so I think this was something he used to do a lot of, and he was wondering what the heck I was doing up there on his back. We turned the bull and stood there - while Rohl had to cut him off from going across the creek at another spot - then we held him there a minute and let him settle down before driving him around the corner, where he went right on in the waiting pen.

As Rohl backed his trailer up and drove the bull right in, we tied our horses up (Rusty was already calmly hanging out under the barn roof - I think he was snoozing). Mac stood tied like he'd had everything under control the whole time, and Rhett danced back and forth around the hitching post, his eyes bugged out and veins standing out like flood-stage rivers on his skin.

I'd done a wee bit of cattle herding before, so I thought I knew what today's bull drive would be all about; and I thought I was riding a real cowhorse, but either Mac had forgotten all about his cowhorse days, or they rushed back to him too fast, or I just didn't know how to ride a cowhorse after all.

I better stick to endurance - I don't wanna be a Cowgirl anymore.

I PLEDGE ALLEGIANCE

The Equestrian Vagabond — Thu, 11 Sep 2008 16:49:12 GMT

Thursday September 11 2008

...to the Carrot...

There's absolutely nothing wrong with using carrots for bribes, or rewards, or just plain treaties, you just ask any horse around here.

Finny and Jose get them to learn to bow.

Diego gets them because he's just cute, and Stormy gets them because he's soooooooo good lookin.

Dudley gets them because he gets a reward for being penned up so he doesn't eat so much.

Mac and August get them out on rides because they are great treaties.

Quickie gets them out on solo rides because she diiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiislikes going out on solo rides, so I use them to reward, some might say bribe, her along. I'll say "Whoa" to her after a hard stretch, she'll stop, and turn her head back and wait for a carrot. Sometimes she'll stop on her own and turn her head back for a carrot. Today, for example, was a 3-carrot ride.

It gets her down the trail and keeps her from depositing me along the way.

OWYHEE TRAILS

The Equestrian Vagabond — Mon, 08 Sep 2008 17:11:05 GMT

Monday September 7 2008

Pikes Peak, one of the best-known 14,000' peaks in Colorado (but only the 30th highest), was around a looooooooong time before it got named after Zebulon Pike, who first tried to climb it in 1806. Of course, that's not counting any Indians, who likely climbed it long before then, and ignoring the fact that the Ute Indians already had a fine name for it, Tavakiev (Sun Mountain).

What's it take to get at least a trail around here in Owyhee named after ME? Well, all it took was going and raking it for an endurance ride. My trail is at the end of Pickett Creek Canyon (see above). You'll be coming down it on two of the days on the Owyhee Canyonlands (and notice the absence of rocks when you do!)

I've taken to naming a lot of the trails around here. Makes it easier than, "Let's take that trail over that way..." "Which one?" "You know, the one down there where the trails fork..." "Which trail fork?" "Well the one after that little hill..." "Which hill?" "Well, the one before the draw..." "Which draw?"

There are: the Training Wash (basic uphill sand wash for getting out of shape horses started back), Brown's Creek loop (in the Brown's Creek drainage), the Tevis Trail (20 yards of a steep narrow trail that leads out of here), the Rim Trail (our most scenic trail, on which we only take people we really like and who will really appreciate it), Hart Creek (the other really scenic trail we only take people we like on, or people who can sit in the saddle a long time, or people who don't get nervous on knife edge ridges - though really, it's not that bad), Blond Cow Wash (a blonde cow was in it once), Dog Trail (which goes above Linda's house), No-Dog Trail (to avoid the dogs from Linda's house on Dog Trail), Tamara's Hill (the first hill Tamara conquered here on horseback), the Badlands Loop (hills that look like the Badlands in South Dakota), the Bilbo Baggins loop (I rode Billy, a cute little hobbit-like horse on this trail), the Frodo Baggins wash (a secret branch off the Bilbo Baggins loop that we hope no motorcycles ever discover!), the Candelabra Gate (which is one way to get to the Bilbo Baggins loop), and so on.

So now, when I say "Let's do the 3 Cheese Layer ride," everybody knows it means to go out the Tevis trail, take the Training Wash up, cross over and take Spring Ranch Road Wash down, take a left at the Water Tank Crossing, and at Four Corners turn left up Blonde Cow Wash till you get up on Steph's Ridge and head home via the Training Wash crossing and Tevis.

They might not show up on any Topozone or Google maps, but at least everybody around here knows the trails I'm talking about. But we'll give you maps at the Owyhee Canyonlands endurance ride, so you don't have to memorize all my trail names before you ride.

TAKIN' ONE FOR THE OWYHEE TEAM

The Equestrian Vagabond — Sun, 07 Sep 2008 14:09:19 GMT

Sunday September 6 2008

It's September already, which means fall (MY FAVORITE TIME OF YEAR!) is coming, as is the 5-day Owyhee Canyonlands Pioneer endurance ride September 24-28. Time to start getting ready.

John's constructing something, which looks to me like it could possibly be a Teeter Bar and Saloon; Steph made the maps for the 260 miles. And she's out raking. I believe that it is entirely possible that one year, the entire 260 miles of the Owyhee Canyonlands ride will be rock-free, setting a new high standard for ride managers and organizers the world 'round.

Today I took the 2 fastest dogs, a saw, and brush cutters, and raced the 4-wheeler down to the end of our canyon and started clearing a passage through Pickett Creek Canyon. It will just be a short piece on one of the days - very rocky, but it's SO scenic, that Steph just had to include this little portion.

I may be really sorry I volunteered to do this job. While the dogs were staying the heck out of my way, I was sawing branches and tree trunks and dragging them out of the creek, and clipping branches and vines - clingy insistent gnarly vines - vines with 3 leaves, when a long-buried phrase started ringing in my head, "Leaves of 3, let them be." Uh oh. Could these be poison ivy? Poison oak? Surely not! Although... I have seen poison oak up this canyon before...

Well - too late now, somebody's gotta do it, and I've already got it all over my arms - and wrapped around my legs, and - eek! Now on my face. Dang! Nothing to do but keep ripping the vines out, so horses and riders won't get them all over themselves when they come through.

I brushed up to the turn up out of the canyon, flushing a long-eared owl on the way : ).

The dogs and I headed back to the house, where I hosed myself off good with cold water, hoping it wasn't really poison oak or ivy I'd gotten into.

Don't worry, OCP riders, I've got your back. The canyon passage will be clear of questionable vines for you when you get here so you can concentrate on the scenery!

So how long does it take before poison ivy or oak starts to itch?

HOW'S THEM APPLES

The Equestrian Vagabond — Sat, 06 Sep 2008 17:41:56 GMT

Saturday September 6 2008

Yesterday evening, Stormy was hanging off by himself, grazing under some cottonwood trees by the creek. I was on the way out on a walk with the dogs and stopped to pet him, and saw he was chewing and sort of foaming at the mouth - what the - !?

Rather frantically, I grabbed his head and looked at his mouth - and he spits out a small red apple. Apple - who put an apple here!? And such a small apple? I looked up, and there above me - an apple tree full of little red apples. What? I've never seen that before!

I asked Steph and John later if they knew we had an apple tree right out there. "Apple tree?"

I walk near that group of trees every day - although maybe this was the first time the tree produced apples. First time, anyway, I've seen that the horses found the apple tree, too.

Anyway, I picked some from the branches I could reach, brought them in and tried them (quite tart!) and today I made Apple Crisp. Tastes sooooooooo good, especially with ice cream!

Stormy got the bowl of little apple cores : )

OWYHEE STEP RECOVERY PROGRAM

The Equestrian Vagabond — Thu, 04 Sep 2008 20:45:40 GMT

September 4 2008

I have a Problem.

I've tried and I've tried to cure myself of it, but it just doesn't work. I JUST CAN'T STOP IT.

Some of you know what I'm talking about.

It's leaving the water on when I'm filling up troughs. I've left rivers and floods in paddocks everywhere I've lived - Texas, California, Washington, Idaho. I often leave the water on for hours. Once (OK, maybe twice, or... more than that... ) I left it on overnight and flooded a pen - the horse was left standing in a tiny dry corner of the paddock - though at least much of the water eventually ran off into the creek and got re-used somewhere else - so it wasn't THAT big of a deal, right?

This Problem is not quite an addiction, but it still requires some kind of a Step Program to help me change my ways. At least I have admitted I am powerless over the Water Problem, (step one) and I cannot control my compulsion without help.

Steph THINKS she has the solution. She says, "Just STAND THERE while you're filling the trough!" But - stand there for 5 minutes waiting for a trough to fill? I CAN'T! I have feed to mix, horses to feed, horses to move around, fly bonnets to put on or take off, fly bonnets to find (after Mac pulls Jose's off), heads to rub, ears to scratch, ears to smear with Swat, smooches to pass out, hugs to share, buckets to pick up, hay to fetch and put out for Finny and the Great Orange Pumpkin who are STARVING and can't wait ONE MINUTE LONGER for a water trough to fill before they eat, gates to open and close, and on and on... see why I can't just stand there and waste five minutes? (And that's just one trough - there are at least 5 to keep filled. That would take 25 minutes!!)

I've tried what one magazine suggested (a national magazine - see, I am not the only person with this problem), leaving a hair band on the faucet, and when I turn on the water, I put the band around my wrist, to remind me to turn the water off; when I turn the water off, I replace the hair band on the faucet. Well, that doesn't work, because I end up - while walking off and doing other chores - pulling my hair back into a pony tail with the hair band that happens to be on my wrist, because it gets in my way, and I forget all about the real purpose of the hair band and the water I've left on.

Even when I've tried standing there and watching the trough fill, then okay, it's done, Turn Off The Water, and I walk toward the water spigot - but have to go through a gate first - and immediately space out that I didn't actually shut the handle off and I go inside and hours later somebody finds the back pen flooded. Or, one time I actually waited (and fretted) there and watched the trough fill for 3 1/2 minutes (couldn't stand it any longer), and I actually turned off the switch - I clearly remember turning off the switch - and went in the house, and Steph found the front yard flooded hours later, because I'd TURNED OFF THE WRONG SWITCH.

See, even when I DO stand there to turn off the water, it just doesn't happen.

As for the recovery steps, the Sponsor thing is not happening for me. Steph, trying to be my advisor by suggesting I stand there and wait for the trough to fill - just doesn't work. I try to make amends for my errors, live a new life with a new code of water behavior - but it's really hopeless - hasn't happened my whole life and I don't see things improving.

John (who has also admitted to forgetting and leaving water on) suggested just putting the water on at a trickle into the troughs, since I'm not going to stand there and wait anyway, and since I'm going to run the trough over anyway. I said maybe I could remember to do that, so that when the water runs over for hours, it won't flood so bad. This is the second big Step in my Recovery - or should I maybe call it my Redirectional program - at least reduce the damage.

On the other hand, as a benefit, my Water Problem helps keep the dust down, albeit in a very localized area. Right? Maybe I don't need to reform.

Come to think of it, maybe I don't even have a problem.

OLD SELAM - DAY 2

The Equestrian Vagabond — Thu, 04 Sep 2008 07:34:40 GMT

Sunday August 31 2008

Back in 1862 Moses Splawn and George Grimes discovered gold in this area, starting the stampede to this part of the Boise Basin - and Grimes got the creek named after him that we are camped on and riding along. Two miles north of New Centerville, (the "town" we are camped outside of), was Centerville, a booming mining town in those days. All that's left now are a few pieces of lumber where there were once 3000 people and a hotel, stores, stables and saloons. An old stage road is nearby, linking to some other old ghost towns. Today, obvious evidence of the gold rush is remains of the extensive placer mining for miles along Grimes Creek. You can even clearly see the dredged up creek beds on Google Earth. What we didn't do back then to get at the riches in the earth - and what we still don't do now to do so. We rode along and crossed the torn up creek during much of today's ride.

Jose, who had been left at the trailer yesterday and probably logged 25 miles running in his pen, was so worried he'd be left behind today, that when I went in the pen this morning to put a halter on Rhett, he came up first and stuck his nose in the halter. "Don't worry Jose, you get to go today with Uncle Rhett!" We sent Mac home with Carol and Rick, so Mac wouldn't have to fret in his pen by himself while we were gone.

Today's trail had some hills but in general was flatter and easier - and just as nice, through Ponderosa pine forests on nice old logging roads. Steph and I fairly flew through the first 20 mile loop. Or, at least I thought we were flying, till we heard some steam-engine-sounding thing on hoofbeats bearing down on us (Jose heard him first, was trying to look over his shoulder). It was Dick Root on his huge handsome (some might debate me on that) half-mustang Rocky, zipping right by us with a huge trot. We followed after him around the next bend - but he was already gone, no horse, no dust, nothing!

We did come to one very steep slick uphill climb that Jose and Rhett clawed their way up; I was sure glad the rain that threatened last night (with thunder!) only lasted a few dust-spattering minutes, because this would have been heck to climb if it had been wet. The horses expended a lot of energy getting up this - luckily it was the only real hard steep hill of the day.

Back in camp we had a 45-minute hold before our next 15-mile loop, a repeat of yesterday's first loop. Rhett was getting tired now, yesterday's hills having taken much of the steam out of his engine, so our pace slowed down. Rhett would run out of gas going up the hills, and he could feel his hocks on the downhills, so we'd slow to a walk whenever Rhett felt like it. Jose wasn't really in trail attacking mode today, preferring instead to follow or go beside Rhett. Plus, I he likes to sight-see. If we're walking along, he'll stop on a little rise, and turn to gaze behind him, and around him. Not an Ohmigod-there's-a-cougar-back-there look, but a taking in of the scenery.

It was cooler today, with a bank of clouds headed our way, and the wind picking up - the cold front coming in. It looked briefly like we might get rained on, but the clouds bypassed us, and it stayed sunny and pleasantly cool the rest of the day.

Back in camp for another 45 minute hold, then back out on the trail for the last 15 mile loop, part of it a backwards repeat of today's first loop. As we were going out, here came Laurie Wells, finishing the 30, hobbling in on foot beside her horse, wearing a knee brace on her left leg. Sure, her knee hurt, but she won the 30! (And finished 2nd yesterday).

We communed with nature today, beyond riding through and appreciating the beautiful trees in the forest. Heading away from camp on the last loop, we disturbed two ospreys that were having little birdies for lunch. We stopped a few times on the trail for a treat - thimbleberries! Some of them were just ripe and ready to eat - bright red and sweet-tart and velvety. I gave one to Jose but he wasn't impressed. Jose found a nice red-tailed hawk tail feather - which I stopped to pick up for him - and not a quarter mile down the trail, he found a wing feather - which I also stopped to pick up for him. And we saw a coyote just off the trail (we tried to stretch our imagination into making him a wolf, but we couldn't) - could it have been the one that almost dumped Brian off his horse yesterday?

The last part of the last loop was very pleasant, and flat, but seemed to stretch out a long ways too... maybe because my knees were starting to hurt. Rather it's my kneecaps, where it feels like they've been busted with a hammer. It mostly comes on from riding a lot at the walk (they killed me when I led pack strings), and though we didn't walk excessively this weekend, nevertheless I did ride a hundred miles (almost), and there were a lot of downhills. It was the right knee that was becoming almost unbearable by the time we reached camp (but I bet you, if I'd have had 50 miles to go, it wouldn't have become intolerable till mile 49 1/2), and I had to ride Jose right up to Keith the vet, and rather slither off Jose, landing on my one (questionably) good leg.

As Laurie Wells sat in a comfortable lawn chair with her leg still resting in the brace, her husband Paul came up to help me. "I can trot him out for you!" just like he did for gimpy Laurie. Good thing, because I couldn't put any weight at all on my right leg for a few minutes. People were a bit concerned, but I said it would go away (it always does). I couldn't complain too much (I couldn't walk, that was all), because think of the how the horses were feeling the hills in their muscles and joints. Steph trotted Jose out for me, and he looked great, which was the important thing. I hobbled beside him back to the trailer, and after a half hour, my kneecap had returned to normal. The horses contentedly buried their heads up to their eyeballs in horse feed.

Tonight's human dinner, anther potluck, was smaller but still delicious. It was colder too, with the front and the wind, everybody coming dressed in layers. Cindy Bradley brought a potato dish that was to die for. Tom Noll insisted the name was "Funeral Potatoes," but "Cindy's Old Selam Taters" sounded so much better! Oscar, whose land we were camped on, dished out ice cream to go with a cake, and Cini Baumhoff had supplied various flavors of Dorothy's Fruit Syrups that her family makes and that are also to die for, especially the Razzleberry that I had to wrestle Liz Smallwood over. Luckily she was distracted by calling out the ride results so I got an extra helping. Lots of extra prizes were handed out above and beyond the completion awards (Tshirts yesterday, caps today, with the SWIT&DR logo).

Laurie Wells was cheered as she went up for her first place award in the LD, to cries of, "Next is a 50!" Laurie said "I know my girl can do it, I just don't think my knees can do it!" Oh, but we all know how we endurance riders love to ride through pain...

This ride was put on by the SWIT&DR club - Southwest Idaho Trail and Distance Riders - and there were many, many of them riding, or helping, or both. There were many additional volunteers including Sonny and Marilyn Hornbaker - Marilyn hobbling about on crutches after breaking her femur 5 weeks ago the evening before the Pink Flamingo ride, and ride photographer Steve Bradley and his wife Cindy.

It was a great collaborative effort to put on an excellent 2-day ride over historic gold rush trails in the Boise National Forest... and a good time was had by all.