No hail for hammer

This pic was taken from the same spot as the top pic in my last post--two days later when it was not getting ready to hail. Way more to see huh? It is a pretty high point.
This is what baby Hammer looks like on day 3 of hard riding. He got better and better every single day. There was nothing he could have done better.
I never had to worry about him worrying the reins when he was tied for a break, because he was too tired!


Isn's he darling? I never thought I would be able to say this, but this one even tops Radar on his first hard trail ride. Someone will have a handy little horse when he gets a new home---any takers? You won't be able to throw anything at him on the trail that he will not take in stride. He will hop logs, climb out of steep ravines--he will drop his little butt and shimmy down the side of a cliff like he has done it a million times--and when he slipped in one, he burn the hide off his fetlocks and still has not even told me about it. He is a stoic sort, and I sure did not expect that from him. He thinks he is big--and thereby able to climb out of creeks like the other horses, even when the edge is almost over his head. And then by God, he does it, even if he has to crawl on his knees to get up it. I could not be more shocked by him, I swear.

The area is much prettier when the sun is shining, isn't it?
Hammer went up and down this washed out climbing spot---I admit that on the way down, I shut my eyes, laid back and let him go--hoping he could handle the weight shifts and be sure footed about it. He did it better than the other horses, and I do not think he considered for a second not doing it. Going back up, he just dug down and got after it, and the only side effect was my lost hornbags who could not handle the angle
There seem to be a lot of pics of roads here, and we rarely even ride on a fire road. This year's rain has worn out some of our regular paths, so that they are just rutted gravel--far more slickery than the rougher terrain we are used to.
This was a rare moment when Hawk was not torturing Jodi by rubbing his head on her to scratch. He is a scratchy dude. They got along fine--she liked him. As she said, he is a bit of an asshole, but he rides nice so she liked him. He comes across as such a thug and I do not know why, as he really is not--and he is so brave, I swear he holds his breath and just throws himself into any new challenge. I do not think he has any fear about anything either.

Here, he was asking Head if he could maybe have a drink of beer. I do not know how he made out on that deal. I suppose if Hawk really wanted it, he would have knocked Head off his perch and taken it.

Linda has a long horse--it makes it easier to get phone reception in the wilderness. Even out there, there is always something demanding attention back home--so thank goodness The Dirty Cowboy knows how to hook her up with a high point to take a phone call.



Radar rode only on Monday, and that is when we realized that he and Hammer have to share a headstall for their bitty heads. I was not about to give it up, so Barry had to make do with a closer fit. Not very close at all, actually--about a half inch too long, and the buckles on the throat latch thing were missing. Because we are fancy, Barry tied it in a knot under Radar's jaw--which of course would not stay. There was no curb chain either--so this poor feller was in a bit of a snit about his ill-fitting equipment. He and Barry do not get along like Radar and I do, so they argued for a while, until they reached a truce. And now I have an excuse to shop some more!

Look how far down on his head that browband is--pathetic, huh? He is still awfully pretty, but I guess we might as well admit that he will always wear a yearling halter and have to have his headstalls adapted to fit his pea head. I guess there are worse problems.

We had a great weekend, and there are more pics to go through, but if I waited to post until I was recovered, it would never happen.

I love these weekends with Headleys and Jodi, and various other people that come along-- they rejuvenate me. I am lucky to have friends like this to spend time with, and lucky to have a constant supply of home grown babies that make me happy to be around, and ride. What more could anyone ask for?

Hail for Hammer

This was the scene of the high point of our trail ride today--right before all hell broke loose. We had a lot of hangups getting ourselves to the campground today, but finally got here three hours later than anticipated. We hurried as fast as we could to saddle up and get out, since our friends had been waiting forever.

We should have know something would go berserk, as we had driven through off and on monsoons all morning to get here--but it had only sprinkled here.

Hammer got off the trailer a little shaky and a lot scared, but we did not have time to indulge that. He was immediately hooked to a picket line for his first time, so we could unload the trailer, etc. He did GREAT. Honestly, that was what worried me the most--picket lines are something we take for granted, but we are bound to eventually have a young colt that takes exception. Somehow, by the grace of God--today was not that day. Anyone who placed money on that deal---you will collect from me, because I sure did not see it going that easily.


Anyway, we went to the scene of the most infamous trailriding crime of my time--the place where Haida Girl hauled balls years ago, leaving me stranded miles from camp, on a bluff high above the Shawnee. We arrived, and I am not exaggerating, the second we got off our horses, I took this photo.

This was at about 3 pm. Brightest part of the day, on one of the highest points in the Shawnee. If you could see this on a regular day, you would see hills and bluffs for maybe 50 miles--but this storm was a doozy. We started out hiding in the trees and commenting on how easy it was to avoid the raindrops. That did not last long. Before we knew it, it was hailing and blowing and raining so hard, I was soaked through to my drawers within minutes. And it showed no sign of letting up.

We had no choice but to head back to camp in that mess--we were freezing and the rain was coming down so hard that previously hard packed trails had water running down them the wrong way. We made it back in about 45 minutes--but they were a long 45 minutes!

I could not have been more proud of Hammer. He hesitated at nothing. Mud? No issue. Logs? If they were below belly level, he never even hesitated. He did not need to be up anyone's butt, he was content to be left behind by hundreds of yards, he did not blindly follow the horse in front of him ( a pet peeve of mine)--he was just outstanding. My little scaredy cat acted like a seasoned pro. I felt as safe as if I had been on one of the oldsters who have done it a hundred times. On top of all that, he was as happy as I have ever seen a young one faced with all these challenges the first time.

Right now, I am outside the trailer at a picnic table--watching him on the picket line--which is also okay with him. He did not even have the initial trouble all babies have when trying to eat from a mobile hay bag--he figured that bad boy out with the first bite. Right now, it is strung across his back--about twice as scary as the rope that he got wonky last week after his bath that caused him to attack the barn wall, and yet he is not even bothered by it. I could not be more proud of him, I swear it.

I am psyched about tomorrow--if riding in a hail storm does not phase him, I feel a whole lot more secure in him than I had ever anticipated I would at this stage of the game. I am so psyched for tomorrow. Hopefully, there will be no more hail. The charm of that has passed.

Scenes from an almost perfect day

Finally, I got back to doing what I love--riding horses. I am so busy that this quite often gets put off to some other day--and then does not happen. But TODAY-- I went trail riding with Randy, Linda and my mom, about an hour away from here. Sure some things went wrong (flat tire on trailer, potentially stolen tractor when I got home, etc)....but the rest of the day was awesome.
Mom rode Gyro, probably for the first time. Gy is always a treat in every way so mom had lots of fun. The weather was perfect--about 70 degrees. In August, for Pete's sake.
Radar and I had a great time--every time I get on him, I am reminded how much I love this horse. I mean really love him. I am not selling him. So there Barry (please don't be mad, I just cannot do it). I love him.
Due to all the hangups getting there, I arrived sans-beer. I know--almost unheard of right? But a safe move when one is going to meet Head. He always is stocked. He can hook a girl up. The only thing to make a day horseback better is a cold beer at the rest points, so it is good that he is reliable in this way. But when Head busted out these little bitty beers, I cracked up. He had a selection of regular size beers and beers for midgets or children, and you could not know which one you were getting when you stuck your arm in the saddle bags. It was like some bizarre game of spin the bottle, I swear.
And you know he is a real horseman, just by this scene back at the trailer. A real horseman never takes his spurs off--he just changes boots instead.

When we got home, I discovered some unfortunate things- my head almost spun plumb off my shoulders and I had the beginnings of a full-blown come apart. The details of that may or may not come later. I did not want to skimp on Hammer boot camp due to fury though, so we got him out and went through the motions of his refresher course of saddling and stirrup flopping. He was so good tonight that we decided to push our luck, and ended up having a great ride. Hammer was the same horse I brought home from the trainer three weeks ago and not that raving lunatic that I dealt with last week. We played around in the hay field for a while, until Madison got bored with me. She set up a bunch of obstacles for me--cavaletti, scary diesel cans and wadded up tarp stuff--anything she could think of that happened to be laying around (and that can be just about anything in my world). Nothing put Hammer off--even kittens jumping out at him at Mach 2--he was a rock star. We played til dark, then gave him the night off.

It is amazing how that turned my world around. I was so proud of us. It was the perfect way to end the day.

Hard parts

Some times, life is just hard. This weekend was kind of hard.

I still don't feel good. I do not feel bad--just not GOOD. I am still tired, and I am coughing like crazy. I cannot get to sleep at nite, and I feel like a zombie the rest of the time. This has to end soon, surely.

So I cannot do much. I feel bad that I am just laying here all the time, it is driving Barry crazy. He got home early on Friday, and of course, I was asleep, which I always am lately.

I managed to get out of bed long enough to go to the movies Friday nite--we saw something I cannot remember right now. It was cute, whatever it was. Then we went to dinner, where I ordered Chili I could not eat for some reason, and went to Wal Mart and then to doctor the baby's leg, etc. I was so worn out after all that, but I could not fall asleep until 5am.

Saturday was the weigh-in for the end of the competition--I am down 23. 5 pounds. That is pretty dang good. I so want to work out again, but I cannot keep from coughing so it is still out of the question. It has been 10 days and now I will basically have to start all over again.

Since I cannot really DO anything, we went to the movies again, then to Lowe's then to the farm. Barry replaced a skylight in the roof which was damaged by the last storm, and I doctored everyone who needs it.

That is when things took a turn for the worse. I should have known things were going too well.

Barry got Tango's wrap off even though we had wanted to leave it on a few days--but it had slid down and things did not look good poking out of the top of it. That part was the easy part. It was so cold out that the salve that goes on the wound was not smearing well, so I had to put it on a bandage, then wrap that with the quilt, then put the polo wrap on it. Tango was in no mood for this. She fought like a banshee--she pawed, she struck, she reared up--she did it repeatedly, and every time, the medicated bandage would fly off, and we would have to start all over. I cannot believe how strong she is. I also cannot believe I did not get my head split open, because I was not about to let go of her when she was acting like that. For my efforts, I feel like I have been hit by a car not. All of that fighting got the blood flowing in the wound, which is great for her but not so great for me. I had blood all over the place--in my hair, all over my arms, on my face, etc. Since I had not planned to be there, I had no jacket and it was below freezing--so I was wearing Barry's. He was complaining that I was going to get medicine on it, so I had taken it off, and was freezing my ass off as she threw me around the stall. And of course that made me cough.

Can you picture that? Freezing my butt off, with blood all over me like I had been in a slaughterhouse, coughing like a three pack a day smoker---and Barry and I sniping at each other for not making it easier.

Yeah that was a treat. You do what you gotta do though, and she needed her leg wrapped and by God, was going to get it.

After that, we were to have dinner with Headleys--we were to meet them near their house then ride with them to the restaurant in Indiana. Our instructions were to stop at a certain exit on the interstate and wait at the hog barn. That was a first--I have not ever started a Saturday nite like that before, I don't believe. Dinner was excellent though--I have not eaten like that in months.

Back to bed I went, until today, when I had to get up and do it all over again. We met Barry's brothers and mom and niece and nephew near St Louis for lunch, for Barry's mom's birthday. I mostly coughed during it all, so I am sure that they did not enjoy me that much, but it was nice to see them. All that running got the best of me, and I fell asleep on the way home, while I tried to listen to the Illinois basketball game. That must have cursed them as they got beat--which they rarely do at home, and was disappointing. Not so disappointing that I could stay awake though. I took a real nap for more than three hours after the game was over, and I am so exhausted that I did not even move.

I sure hope I can get through the work day tomorrow, I need to go to work. I am just so tired from it all. I have been awake from more than two hours now and I think I have hit my limit.

I need this week to go well. It is foaling time, and the foalcam is not working, and that makes me anxious. I feel so behind at work, but I know I am not really since I got the big honking project done in the few hours I was there last week. Somehow, I feel very stressed lately, like I am about to pop and I do not feel like anything good is liable to come of it. I also feel like I am shouldering everything by myself, and no matter how hard I try to keep things moving forward with a minimum of drama, I cannot do everything on my own, and it frustrates me that I have to.

I am sure that I will feel better when I can exercise, which I hope is soon. Barry might be here this week, and he joined the other gym with me--so now we are members all over town, and yet I still cannot exercise--so he can go to spinning class with me. I hope that will help him be a little more supportive of how hard I am trying, if he actually sees how hard I am working. He seems to be the only one that is not really cheering me on with all the exercise and diet, and I do not know why that is, but it makes me sad. That and his family did not notice at all, so that is probably hurting my feelings a little bit--and I do not know why it bothers me, since really they do not have any interest in me (except Zach, he does or at least acts like it) so it is not like it is unexpected.

Man, I do not know where that came from. I guess I am wrapped a little tighter than I realized, and I have not even started complaining about the major things that are weighing on my mind. No wonder I am sick, I am beating my self up all the time.

I am tired of this

Our Sunday escape

This is a completely gratuitous photo of Radar taken this afternoon at Sam Dale. I actually did mail in my Powershot camera for servicing, but since Barry was not there to rag me about taking my good camera on the trail, I did. Which is how I got this swell photo of my buddy Radar. Today was one of his best days ever--I enjoyed virtually every minute of our ride, he is really growing up.

You can see the lake more than usual, since so many of the leaves are down. The crunching under the horse's feet was really loud, and in places, the leaves were so deep that each step would kick them up in a swirl.
It was a gorgeous day, if a little cool. I rode in a t-shirt, but Headleys ended up putting on jackets. I think our comfortable afternoons are going to get short soon--the weather is changing so fast
I love old barns. I don't know what the attraction is, and I sure do not love MY old barns. But other people's old barns make me happy--even if they are falling down. There is something about them that makes me nostalgic--for what I have no idea

Madison rode Gyro today--I was going to ride her, but then I decided at the last minute that Madison could go with me and did not have time to come back and get Twister for her. I gave her Gy and I took Radar--that way we were both happy.
Madison had never ridden Gyro, do you think she liked it?

Days like today remind me how lucky we are. Being able to bring a broodmare out of the field after just weaning a baby, and know she will be solid for Madison is priceless. That reminds me why I insist on only using broodmares that ride and do it right--these are nice perks.

Look at those draft butts---in this world of stock horses, I almost never see a draft horse under saddle. I just do not think of them that way-I am used to seeing them work at the neighbor's, as we are surrounded by Amish who use them. It was cool to see them out on the trail.

and on that note, I am out--I am worn out, which is how I like to end a Sunday--but I have to be at the vet for preg checks at 7 am, so off to bed I go.

Seasons changing at Sam Dale

Finally, I am back on schedule with our Sunday afternoon rides at Sam Dale Lake. I have been out of town so much, I have not been in five weeks. We picked a great day for it-- about 75 degrees, although it was windy. Radar was his usual wonderful self, I love riding him more every single time. I have to remind myself not to ask too much of him since he is just a baby but he acts so solid that I forget how young he is. He seems to learn things so quickly and easily--like today, his shoes slipped on the asphalt. A month ago, he would have scrambled to get better footing, probably making things worse. Today, he just rode out the slide and moved along. He probably slipped four times, but I don't think there was another issue the rest of the day, and I know I was more concerned than he was. Nothing phases him.

The big event of the day was that Head rode a new horse. She came from a rescue organization that Linda works with pretty closely, and little is known about her, other than she is 7 and does not know much. And she GLOWS in the dark! Head is doing really well with her though, and she was pretty impressive today. She has been called Nellie (as is Whoa Nellie!) which I cannot stand so I am trying to think up good names that I will then pester them with so I don't have to think of that poor girl being called Nellie all the time. Linda rode Thumper, who is 22, and does not make many appearances, so that was kind of neat.

About 2/3 of the way through the ride, I saw what I was sure was a colt running straight at us on the trail. It never occurred to me to wonder why that was, I just accepted that it was happening. I swear it took me a couple of minutes to realize that it was not a colt, but a deer, and it was part of a pack. None of the horses seemed to think it was strange that we were being invaded by deer running straight at us, which was a nice change from some trips!

All in all, another great trip. I wish Barry had gone but he stayed home to finish fence, which I had about as much faith in as the Great Pumpkin showing up for dinner, but the damnedest thing happened----he FINISHED THE FENCE! At least the wire part which is what he has been working on since July (more off than on of course, but whatever) I am so proud of him. This is a huge weight off both of our minds. The top board still needs to be put on, but I think we have until spring to get that done, since they won't be leaning over the top to get grass on the other side until there is some.

And in case you think this day could not get any better--another crazy thing happened .After I got home from trailriding, about 6:15, we attempted to load Target to take him to the trainer. I was all ready to try Head's foolproof idea (and kind of looking forward to it, since I was still irritated at Target acting up earlier in the week)- and Target just got right in the trailer. Well not right in, but he was in within 3 minutes, and no one was pissed off about anything. Well maybe Radar was as he was still in there, and had to go on an extra road trip as a result, but what is another hour and a half in the trailer in the name of brotherhood?

Yesterday's ride

This is the tin whistle----a steel tunnel that runs under the railroad tracks where we rode yesterday. It is pitch black in there with scary shadows but neither Radar or Slygirl had much of a reaction at all, despite the echoes and shadows and wierd sounds. Jenna said that Radar was a little concerned when he scrambled up the hill and found himself facing this thing, but it must have been a small reaction as I was right behind him and never saw a thing from him

It was truly the most treacherous riding we have ever done, and I could not have asked for more from the two Slybabies than they gave. I would not have gotten more from the old pros like Twist or Play or Rock.

For once, I did not take a jillion pics, and because I was in the back of the trail to keep an eye on Jenna and Radar, all the photos I did take were from behind! For Jenna's first ride back after all the time off, she did really well--her knees took a couple bangs into trees, but she soon figured out how to keep that from happening, and I expect Radar and she both learned something from that.

The photo on the left is not terribly interesting, but gives you some idea of the size of the rocks we encountered. We had just come down the back side of the one pictured, and were wrapping around it.

Slygirl encountered her first water crossing. She was cool with that, after she understood it was for playing in. She would not drink the first three or four hours which worried me, but she finally signed on and started drinking. She still made me anxious with that stunt, even though it is not really that strange.

Another first that got their attention was rock climbers and rapellers. I do not recall if Radar saw some on Labor Day, but I know Slygirl never has and it really is strange to see people flying. The sounds of the belay rope or the zip line caused Radar to stand still and study it, but otherwise, they paid it little to no attention. It is those sort of things you do not think about and take for granted that every horse will handle well, but that sort of thinking is also what gets people hurt---we were lucky that they took it all in stride.

Once again, they impressed me more than I could ever have imagined. Surely this has to stop doesn't it? Surely it cannot be this easy all the time, can it?

RIP Herbie

My friend's horse, Herbie, was laid to rest today. He was a 25 year old STB cross (cannot remember for the life of me what the cross was), that was one of the very few that they bred and raised themselves, and they have had him his whole life.

This is such a strange thing, as we were at his house yesterday, hanging out in the barn. They told lots of Herbie stories, including how he likes beer so much that he would try to get into other people's saddlebags to help himself. He had a handful of Miller Lite from Head yesterday, and he sure was happy to get it. Linda said he does not get much beer anymore, since he has Cushings, and I teased her that if a man cannot have a beer at age 25 when he is not long for this world, when in the hell can he have one? Herbie had a good day yesterday.

We had plans to go ride in the Shawnee today and my alarm was set for 7 am to get ready. At 6:15, Head called and told me to go back to bed, as Herbie was down and we could not go. Three hours later, I got a text that he had passed.

You could have knocked me over, I was so shocked. I have since talked to Linda, and he was obviously colicing bad or he had some other organ failure-he had no gut sounds, his gums were white, and the inside of his nose was cold as ice. Fortunately for them, their good friend Adriana the vet was available to come tend to his misery, and end it for him.

Poor Herbie, and poor Headleys. They rescue a lot of horses and other animals, and the running joke is that nothing ever dies there. That is obviously not true, but when you have a 33 year old horse that is still sassy and an assorted collection of other horses that never would have made it anywhere else, it seems like it sometimes. While we were there yesterday, we talked about where they bury their animals, and how much room there may or may not be left.

We changed our plans for the day, and they still want to ride--they think it will make for an easier afternoon than staying home. I wish that Rock had on shoes, as this makes me want to enjoy her while I still can, but she does not and is way too tenderfooted to ride without them, so I will take Slygirl for her first far away trailride. I suspect it will be a melancholy afternoon

Nine-day ride

Was wonderful as usual, but man oh man was it hot as hell. It always is, so I don't know why I am surprised. While we were riding in the creek, we saw a bald eagle flying and he eventually perched himself on a tree branch and just waited for us, so I got some great photos. Then we happened on a bunch of kids riding in the water, and it was so fun to watch them play and see how good some of these horses are to them, they are absolute saints.

I took Twister with me to have the most maintenance free ride possible and he threw a shoe right off, so he played drama queen all day-- it is kind of funny how he pretends he is dying, but forgets which foot hurts, and then forgets altogether when he realizes he is headed back to camp. People who don't know us probably think I am torturing him, but I know him better than that. He did have a little scare when he got caught in some quicksand and bonked his head on a huge tree stump--in humidity like we had, any extra effort is torturous. I did feel sorry for him then, as he took care of me even when he was scared and exhausted.

The pig got to go camping, and he enjoyed himself quite a lot the first nite, where he got to be loved on by everyone in camp. He eventually fell asleep with Cathy, looking like the most spoiled pig in the world. The next morning, he was not such a happy dude, and raised so much hell, I thought my eardrums would burst. He spent the hot part of the day in the back of Headley's trailer, visiting the rabbit Melvin, enjoying the fan and a frozen water bottle so he did not get too hot. I did learn a lot about pigs though, as at least four of the guys with our group grew up on pig farms and know all about them-- on the flip side, it took a lot of work to keep them from castrating him (which he needs, but the real vet can do it not the hillbilly crew of Woodlawn). That is a little wierd.

All in all, a wonderful day riding with Head and Linda--it always is, and it is amazing how much better I feel after a day out with them. It is probably the only place I do not have to be in charge of anything at all, from what I eat to when I eat it to where we will ride for the day, and that is amazingly relaxing.