Epona went out to pasture with the herd yesterday, and it was so uneventful I figured I’d be writing about its success. But by the end of the night, when I went out to get her, she had a little blood dripping from her nose from, most likely, a kick.
I say ‘most likely’ because though there was no obvious sign of laceration, and it cleared up quickly — she was, after all, out with the herd for the first time in 2 months and there was blood.
Putting on my super sleuth cowboy hat, 🤠 I deduce a blunt, yet mild, trauma.
So, back to the bubble wrap until at least after Saturday.
I trust the herd — when they fully integrate — the jostling to get there, I do not trust.
I tried out my new weighted split reins this week and my first thought was, “Oh damn, they’re too short!” They didn’t reach around far enough to use the popper for a quick smack on the butt. However, since I’m using my spurs again, there really isn’t a need for a popper.
When the reins hang down, they go a little past his shoulder, and since they are heavy leather, (though buttery and supple) they hang nicely. My trainer thinks they’re about perfect and noticed that I had less trouble getting organized. She wouldn’t change a thing, unless I want to get maybe 5 more inches for the pop. A full 8’ might be too much and hang almost to his fetlock.
As for communication, oh my goodness, God’s gift to us horsewomen. The lightest touch is all you need—almost just a thought. (Assuming you have their attention, that is.)
And as for “attention,” we spent a lot of time working on what to do if I lose it during the clinic. Basically, walk him in 10’ circle in vertical flexion, giving him a loose rein when he brings his attention back, then stopping him to wait. Of course, if he’s not that far gone, I check him first and ask for his attention. Regina said it’s a feel thing. You can feel if their energy is too far up, and you need an immediate circle, versus just a looky loo, should I care moment.
We put him to the test in several situations, and finally I took him outside the arena and she stayed in with Leah. Kind of took the trainy wheels off and disappeared his herd mate.
Tumbleweed is doing awesome. He is growing up and taking responsibility. It doesn’t take him long now to come back to me and settle, but the clinic will push him even further out of his comfort zone.
I can’t wait! Just have to keep the horses in one piece before then.
I have been on the hunt to replace my favorite reins for over two years, ever since the rawhide split on my favorite set. Sad day, as I am a creature of habit, and I like my tack to remain consistent.
Aren’t they beautiful? What I loved about this old set of reins is the weight and drape at the bit. I remember the day I found them, among many other sets, and I let them drop from hand to hand, I knew right away they were perfect for the communication I wanted. I practically danced out of the store in happiness.
They were great reins from day one, until the rawhide came undone.
I continued to use them, as the rawhide is only decorative, and there is a leather rein underneath it, but it scares everyone who sees it. “Your rein’s broke.”
Yes and no.
Well, anyway, it’s time to move on from them.
I searched for “weighted leather split reins” first locally, struck out, then on the internet.
It’s not ideal, buying off the internet. You can’t feel them. Drape them. But I did some research and read some reviews and found a set at Buckaroo Leather that sounded like exactly what I wanted and made from Herman Oak Leather. (They were also having a sale to mark the 4th of July).
“Our finest Quality weighted Leather Split Reins are nice and heavy through out, and lined with soft chap leather, but 3 ply for 24", extra weighted, at the bit end for the perfect drape and communication. 1 pair Weighs about 2- 2 1/2 lbs. Built for show and training! Quality Hermann Oak Double and Sewn Harness Leather with soft chap lining, Oiled and Hand Rubbed for that superior soft and supple "broke in" feel-the best on the planet! Choose oiled standard brown harness or black oiled.”
Regarding Herman Oak leather:
They are in a slow season right now at Buckaroo Leather, so they sent me out the custom reins the next day and they arrived yesterday, about three days later.
They’re so soft and pliable. Gorgeous reins. Beautiful drape, sweet split popper at the end. I ordered 7’, because my former set were just a little over that. These measure at 7’2”, so they listened to me when I told them my old ones came in a little over 7’. Wow.
I’ll have to update this once I put them on my bridle. The quality of these reins right out of the box is shocking. Many thanks to Buckaroo Leather!
I had the option to get weighted at the bridle or weighted at the bit or both, I chose only weighted at the bit. They have a great feel at the popper end unweighted, but I can also see a benefit in a weighted popper end, as they might hang down straighter.
I’ll have to try them out, although I can’t imagine them getting any better than this.
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Update on Epona. She is fully integrated to Cowgirl and Leah, but won’t be introduced to the rest of the herd until Monday, just to be extra safe.
She paces the first night, but after she got turnout and mama time, she calmed right down and I didn’t see her pacing at all afterward. Cowgirl knew what she was doing taking control of her like she did.
Here’s a video from the first day turned out. Cowgirl seems to be very happy that she’s integrating with Tumbleweed, but she is also expecting Epona to be on her best behavior.
Well, well, well, our girl, Epona, is home. She became a stall pacer at training and wore out her shoes in 4 1/2 weeks. (I guess she is a horse who prefers pasture turnout.) Our trainer moved her into a much larger stall that had an open side (no adjoining horse) and that finally settled her, just in time to come home.
Other than that, she did awesome and my daughter was able to ride her, with Epona leading out, on the trails and farm fields before we packed her up to go.
Our trainer is one of those rare gems who under promises and over delivers. She is also a truth teller, and doesn’t sugarcoat anything. You know where the holes are and where the strengths are. This will be helpful information at the upcoming clinic.
Unfortunately, the saddle we had for her doesn’t fit properly, so now we are on a search for one that will fit her. My main saddle does, of course, because it fits almost every horse, but it is rigged for Tumbleweed right now, thus, spoken for. They used it yesterday for their trail ride. Our trainer remarked about how heavy it is. Indeed. And there might be a day I can’t swing it onto a horse’s back. Until then, as my daughter told her yesterday, you will have to pry it out of my cold, dead hands.
At home, Epona had eyes for Tumbleweed, and mama didn’t like that.
Mama might win the battle, but she’s going to lose the war, because there’s no keeping these young guns from one another. It’s a biological reality: mama can’t compete with this:
There are two parts to this post: 1) a lesson recap, and 2) an upcoming clinic this Saturday.
Tweed and I had a lesson yesterday, Monday, and it was a hot one. Temperatures got to 90 degrees, maybe a little more. Because of the heat, we kept it to walk and trot work and only went 45 minutes. Tweed was doing excellent in the heat, but it was beating up on me, and I had to cry uncle. We still accomplished a lot.
Leah was, once again, there to look pretty and distract Tweed outside of the arena. She is so smart. When she realized my husband wasn’t coming, and it was two horses with only one human, she literally flew into the trailer like a unicorn. She has always self-loaded, but never with so much gusto. She really likes her “job,” and I mean REALLY likes it.
In fact, Leah has become my happiest horse around the house, period. She can’t go out on pasture, so she is hand fed everyday and mostly isolated with Cowgirl in the dry lot turnout. She is getting a lot of attention, and she loves it.
Back to the lesson. I rode Tweed both directions around the arena as his warmup. The kid crew was back, a different one this time, and he was nervous going by them. There were about 20 unpredictable, and loud, children along the north fence line. The north fence line instantly became his scary place.
Regina had me ride back and forth along that fence line until he was okay with it. I was to sit deep, always deep, pressing my butt to the ground deep, and hold elasticity in the short reins, hands out in front, rather than braced against my abdomen. Asking, giving, asking giving, and waiting for him to take responsibility for himself on a loose rein.
When we got that, we moved out to the barrels and she took Leah away while I worked on a circle. He got trippy, not paying attention to his feet, so I turned him and continued to ask for vertical flexion. When he had it, I’d give him the loose reins.
Next, we moved to trot, but it was fast and rough, and I had to post it. Regina wanted to let him burn off some steam. But then she changed strategy and told me to step back and ask for the fastest WALK I could get from him. Really push him to a high gear that required all of his effort and engaged his hind end. She wanted him to decide to move into the easier gait of a collected trot on his own. It worked. He did it. We got a lovely, slow trot that I could sit deep and ride.
At that point she told me to ride to the furthest end of the arena away from Leah and rest him.
We rested in the shade at the scary fence line. It wasn’t scary anymore. In fact, he loved it.
Lastly, we walked toward Leah who was outside the south fence line, and asked for a smooth whoa. Got it. Dismounted.
As I said above, Tweed was great, but I was pretty exhausted from riding that fast walk, which required all I had to push for it, and thirsty, too.
—-
There’s a horsemanship clinic coming up next Saturday, July 12.
We are going down Thursday to get Epona and Shiloh plans to ride her on the trail with our trainer.
Our plan is the take her and Tumbleweed for a mother / daughter day with the horses.
They got back to me today and said we can choose between a half day clinic or a full day. I’m leaning towards a half day. I have to decide morning or afternoon, and I’m leaning towards morning. It seems like that would be the beginning training and afternoon could be a continuation for some of the riders. Also, if we felt we would benefit from afternoon, we could decide to stay, if there is room. All day, however, seems like a lot for young horses.
My husband and I made it to the equestrian area with our horses. It was Day 2 ‘back in saddle’ for Leah. I would say it went worse for her, but better for Tumbleweed
When we started off on the ground at the obstacle course, Leah was the rock star.
Teeter Totter
Logs
I loved watching them together. Leah had the sweetest eye for him.
In saddle, however, the roles reversed, and it was Tweed who was the rockstar, and Leah wanted to pick up speed (and ignore my husband) back to the trailer.
This led to a mini-lesson on trail work. I’ll try to recap what I told my husband, and feel free to offer your own insights in the comments.
First off, riding a horse on a straight line with a loose rein is the pinnacle of trail riding. It’s the goal. It rewards both them and us.
However, it also takes a lot of personal responsibility from the horse who would prefer to take control and run the hell back home. It’s unnatural and uncomfortable for them to leave the herd and wander down a dark trail. It goes against all their survival instincts.
I start out on a loose rein, but I look for signals that they’re still with me. Where are their ears pointing? How fast are they walking?
I ‘check in’ with my horse to see if they’re in the thinking part of their brain. The first check in is a light tug on the right or left side of the mouth. If I get an ear that means I still have light communication.
If Yes, I proceed down the trail on a loose rein.
If no, I pick up the reins for contact. If they’ve changed the speed, I ask for the speed I want.
Same questions, and it’s all happening super fast. Do I get an ear? Do they check their speed?
If yes, we go back to a loose rein and proceed.
If it’s a no, as in no ear and no checked speed, I give them a job.
My goal is to always, and I mean always, keep them tuned in and thinking. Every single time I cut a corner and thought, oh, you’re being too nit picky, it has bit me in the butt with something bigger happening.
I told my husband that pulling on the reins alone dams up the energy, and it is going to explode. They’re not trying to be mean, or even disrespectful, they’ve just switched into flight mode for survival and, unless we can bring them back to the thinking, non-reactive side of the brain, we will see an explosion of that energy in a jump, buck, rear, head shaking, kicking, or run away.
I also told my husband that if all else fails and you cannot get them in a working frame of mind, they usually give you a few seconds to dismount with a one rein stop, and there is no harm in that. In fact, it can be a much better option. Not a great one, because they will remember it, but better than some other alternatives.
I broke the news to my husband: hey, we’re probably not going to make it very far down the trail tonight, and that’s okay. We’re going to take the time and do it right. If we need to stop and give them a job, it’s okay. They have to know this isn’t a straight line RACE track. It’s a job that they’re doing with us. It’s unpredictable and they need to stay connected to the human leader and be ready for whatever we ask. No auto pilot allowed. (This is why I have ridden alone in the past. It’s a lot to ask of a friend to sit and watch you school the trails. My husband, however, is happy to do it.)
Off we went. I tried to stay behind to keep an eye on hubby and Leah, but it wasn’t too long and we were riding separately through trees, going our own way and doing a “job.”
At one point, I could barely see Leah, and T was still tuned into me and the work. BIG WIN. I was guiding him in circles, around trees, through brush, up and down little hills, and he was paying attention to his feet and the light contact.
We were in saddle for an hour and a half, and it was all fun work.
Afterwards, as we sat and had wine at the trailer and let the horses rest, I reflected on riding the trails with Leah, who has had so much time off, versus a more solid trail horse. I kind of like it. As I watch my husband try to figure it out, all the things my trainer taught me make more sense. It’s so hard to see what she’s saying when it’s me struggling. But a very bright lightbulb went off watching my husband go through it.
Also, there is good and bad to following a steady Eddie down the trail. It is easier to follow, but we also want them to be independent. What I saw from Tweed when he couldn’t see Leah (and didn’t look for her) was that budding independence I’ve been working so hard to foster.
As we talked, my husband said how much he enjoyed it, too. He said he could do this kind of trail work for the rest of the summer and be totally happy.
That’s good, because I don’t want to put a time limit on setting a solid trail foundation. Every journey is totally unique to the horse and rider.
And it’s all about that journey, not the destination.
Extra credit:
This is my trail training in stick figures:
Figure (A) says Kentucky Derby, Preakness and Belmont wrapped into one. First horse around the loop and back to the trailer wins the triple crown. All you need is someone to shoot off a gun and open the gates.
Figure (B) says we don’t know where we’re going, maybe into the woods, maybe back home, but we sure like walking around trees. Ultimately, the trees, “the work,” are the destination.
