How do we miss what is right in front of us?

I often wonder this, but rarely as much as I did this morning, when we finally got it together enough to take Madison on her trailride I had been promising her all week and kept having to put off. We all went, and rode behind the farm--there are about 250 extra acres back there that we never take advantage of--which is just stupid. We decided to check it out, since the hunting outfit had cut trails, and we only have until the end of this month to use them (at their request). I sure wish we had been back there more often, as it is so pretty--and we just ignore it.

Probably the reason Barry was willing to go was that he got a new saddle last nite. It is really plain, but really well made, I love how it feels. Barry was excited to get it on Target, who he is really clicking with and enjoys riding a lot.

Target pulled a screwball stunt before we mounted up (first exposure to a rear cinch, which resulted in him wigging out on the lunge, slipping on dewy grass and wiping slap out in the front yard), so I was a nervous wreck about this, and to ride behind our farm without going through our pastures (never a great idea with young horses), we have to ride a couple of hundred yards in the road. Why country people do not understand that it is not cool to zoom by at 60 mph, or think it is okay to speed up just as they reach us, I have no idea. But they don't.

Anyway, the above shot is taken on the farm road bordering our fence line, which leads back to the back part of the farm where we were going to ride--the houses across the street are the cul de sac across the street which often shows up in my photos.

This next one is taken from the same spot, but the other direction--you can see Gypsy and Aries in the pasture, behind Madison. Unbeknownst to them, they were experiencing their last hours with their babies--we weaned them when we got back.

This is the cattle pass under the railroad tracks, where Playmate used to escape and end up out in the damn wilderness. I was always sure she was dead, laying in the tall grass somewhere, and I would race around in the Gator and be sure I was getting ready to drive right over her--but nope, she found an escape, and tore down the gates on both ends so she could use it. Those old ladies can be tricky. Not as tricky as me though, as I eventually busted her out.

This is to the east of our farm, high up on a bluff overlooking the Little Muddy River. There are all kinds of artifacts in this area--broken pieces of pottery, arrowheads, etc--the man who sold us our property said it was called Indian Ridge. By who, I do not know.


This is the larger of the two ponds back there. Both of them presented Radar with some serious stress--as we approached, big frogs would plop around in there. I thought poor Rad was going to come out of his skin--he was a spooky monkey all day, completely unlike him. I don't know why he was like that, but it was a little unsettling. If he cracked a dead branch, he wigged--if he bent one over and it wacked him, he wigged--you name it, he was just wound way too tight today. He actually acted like he was a baby 3 year old, for the first time ever. I realize that he IS a baby three year old, he just never acts like one.

He was not the only wackaloon though--Twister gave Madison her first real buck and he meant it. I am pretty sure that we got into some ground bees or something as Target was fine, then there was a good amount of time before Twister hit that spot, and just as he quit, Radar got set off. Fun times. I was so proud of Madison though, to do so well with her first one--she never grabbed the horn, she did not holler like a little girl like I do when that happens, and it did not ruin her ride. He pulled another stunt later, which flat pissed her off, and I was so proud of her for working through it--I know she was scared, but she would not admit it. I also knew full well that he was being a pecker head for the fun of it and not because he hurt--which is good news to me.
This is an example of the paths the hunting outfit put in--most are not like this of course, as most either edge a bean field or are through woods, but there were some areas like this. It made for a very pleasant ride, to work through the squirriliness most of us were having.

This is what 70% of that land looks like--it is in beans right now. This year, things were planted in a different pattern than they normally are--so had it been up to us to find a clear path to ride, we would have been in a world of hurt, I think--all our paths are covered up.
The hunting outfit cut trees and brush in a completely different pattern than we have ever ridden, so it was kind of interesting to see parts we had never seen before.

Isn't this a cool tree? It is all twisty. I swear I did nothing to this photo, it is just so thickly wooded in some parts of the property that there is not much color--just Radar's ears and some leaves.

As always when we ride back there, I wonder why I do not do it every day. Most people would love to have this at their fingertips and we do not even use it--it is silly. We may be able to get out after work a day or two this week, but then we have to get out til hunting season is over---but it will be there all winter and from now on--we have to take advantage of it. We rode two solid hours with no breaks and did not backtrack except in the rare occasion where we hit too steep of a cliff to traverse, or the brush got too thick.