When Epona was born, we got preoccupied keeping her alive and didn’t get her registered with the APHC. Four years later, we are starting the process and it begins with getting her dam’s DNA.
I paid for the kit and it was emailed a week later with the instructions to send 75 hairs with the root bulb attached. (Photo above).
I took the samples from her mane and pulled straight up as close as I could to the roots. She didn’t seem even slightly concerned.
I truly can’t tell, however, if there is enough of the bulb in this sample.
Should I pull tail hair instead?
I know some of you have done this before, but this is my first time. Any help would be appreciated.
With my trailer fixed, I was on the road again for that Monday, now Wednesday, trail ride.
I had my new trail halter from Knotty Girlz.
It fit nicely under his bridle.
When we arrived, my trainer was there with another student. I was able to say hello and get some before-ride tips. Tweed was relaxed (no need for ground work) so she suggested I do some basic collection work in saddle.
As I was at the mounting block I saw this creepy skeleton hanging on the arena. I was like, is this some kind of voodoo stuff? Yikes. Probably a kid’s toy.
Anyway, we warmed up and then went out to say hi to friends and get Tweed used to new horses. They are part of the mounted patrol. One of them is a close friend, part of my cowgirl group, and she offered to go out with us.
I was like, sure! And off we went.
As usual, Tumbleweed is very confident leading and he keeps up a good trail pace. My friend said she was very surprised it was only his 3rd trail ride this season.
He balked once, and it was at this stump. (Remember his aversion to freaky stumps?)
I asked her to lead past it. And then we switched back again.
I took him down a steeper hill that had loose rock to test out the new working length rein and long, straight legs. My friend said that she finds her leg position by lifting her feet from the stirrups and letting her body balance naturally. That worked for me, too.
Tweed did great, but he is still getting the feel for rocking back and letting that hind end dig in. It will take more practice, but so much better than before.
Another great ride under our belt and more technical work this time. I’ll just keep building his confidence a little at a time.
Oh, I almost forgot we came across riders on the trail and he did well with them.
They had a little mare in the group who stopped in front of Tweed and refused to go forward. I told you he’s the Mare Whisperer. Her rider finally kicked her into gear.
I am so proud of Tumbleweed. He constantly checks in with me and he has such wonderful trail manners with other horses. He doesn’t freak out or speed up going home. He’s steady Eddie. I just couldn’t be happier to see how he has matured.
When the blackberries hang swollen in the woods, in the brambles nobody owns, I spend
all day among the high branches, reaching my ripped arms, thinking
of nothing, cramming the black honey of summer into my mouth; all day my body
accepts what it is. In the dark creeks that run by there is this thick paw of my life darting among
the black bells, the leaves; there is this happy tongue. (Mary Oliver)
I did not make it out on a Monday beat-the-heat trail ride. During our weekend water excursions our trailer connection developed an issue and a warning light came on, shutting down other aspects of the truck. So, Monday morning brought a trip to the dealership to get it fixed. (It was a loose wire.)
Since it was a blazing hot day here in the Northwest, I was okay with that.
I’m not a summer person, but this has been a fun-filled August. Until this week it has been relatively mild and smoke free. (They are predicting smoke from Oregon coming in today though, ugh).
I realize I haven’t shared photos of myself much, so here is one from Sunday (a selfie) and you can see my husband’s head in my sunglasses. We took the waverunners up to Metaline Falls and checked out four waterfalls, one of them being the magnificent Peewee Falls.
This next photo was Friday on Lake Roosevelt by Whitestone Rock. We call our waverunners Seahorse 1 and Seahorse 2. Haha.
Another fun August development is the maturing of our grandson. He is now able to join us at restaurants and converse. He can even order his own food and show appreciation to the staff. He is developing impeccable manners. So, that means we get to stop and eat after all our adventures. You know, do grownup stuff.
Here he is trying fried pickles in Davenport, WA after our Lake Roosevelt trip.
He has loved our water adventures. When we’re all together we call ourselves the Four Musketeers, and speaking of four…he will turn four in October. I’ve always called that the golden year. It kind of all comes together and they can do so much more for themselves.
—-
I was thinking about my last lesson with Tweed, trotting downhill, and realize how wise it was for my trainer to concentrate on that since, on past trail rides, Tweed has picked up speed downhill to catch up with a lead horse. There were 3 things she wanted to accomplish:
1. His balance and attention.
2. Checking his speed without pulling on the reins.
3. Exposure to what it feels like to carry himself at a different gait, in case he does it organically on a ride. When they pick up another gait their energy can come up, too, causing you to lose your connection.
——
So, here’s to August 2025 and all the blessings it has opened up to us.
I had a day off from babysitting yesterday, so I met my trainer early to beat the heat. We worked on the same things we did last time, balance on hills and checking speed and attention going down hills without over handling the reins and getting in his way.
Going down hill I was to sit back, hold the working length steady and low, at the D-rings, and check his speed by lengthening my leg, squeezing the inside of my legs, and making a V of the reins.
We practiced it on flat ground first, and I had to correct my legs since they were moving slightly forward. They needed to truly go straight down and in line with my hips. When I squeezed with the inside of my legs, Tweed was confused and thought I wanted him to run. When I checked his speed and he figured out what it all meant, he totally got it and slowed down from trot to walk. We put it to the test on hills at a walk, and even though there was a lot of coming and going of cars and an ATV hauling a maintenance wagon, Tweed did great.
We then moved it up to a trot that began on the flat bluff above the hill, then rounded and right down the hill at the same trot. Tweed picked himself up and slowed himself down, but maintained the gait. It felt like I was floating down it since his power remained in his engine which gave him much more balance and control.
He did so marvelously well that we ended it there. Regina said it is unlikely I will be asking for him to trot down hills like that, but if he ever has to it is better that he is confident and been exposed to it. She said he is doing great and well prepared now for trail riding.
Fly away little birdies. Time to leave the nest.
That afternoon we took the “seahorses” to Lake Roosevelt to visit our favorite spot: Whitestone Rock.
I don’t have babysitting duty Monday, although there is a heat warning in effect of 100 degrees. My hope is to get up early and do a solo ride before the heat sets in.
Once this heat wave passes, we should be out of the woods and ready for lots of beautiful fall rides.
If you’re following along with my latest posts about first trail rides, on our last ride Tweed lost his attention at the equestrian camp ground and hill past it. From now on, my lessons with Regina will be covering what bubbles up on those rides, so we met at that same campground and re-created the scenarios.
As I parked across from the campground and saddled up, Tweed was agitated and wanted to eat grass (distraction), but after Regina arrived, we warmed up in the meadow doing those basic attention exercises—as soon as he lost focus on the circle I turned him in towards me—at walk and trot. The ground was uneven, so he had to pay attention to his balance.
We then moved to a hill and did the same thing. Tweed was agitated at the trot because it required that he give it 💯 of his attention, which he wanted to divide between me and a big group of horses heading out. He didn’t do anything big, but I’m glad I wasn’t riding it.
When we had him relaxed at the trot in a circle on the hill, I bridled him and we went back to the hill to do the same work in saddle.
Key points:
Going downhill I was to hold my hands very low, working length reins, and give him freedom to move, mostly using my legs to guide him.
Going uphill, I posted the trot because he wanted to either walk or lope, and my hands were still working length, low, but I was to give him his head and only check his speed with my body and the demands of the hill.
When we had that going well, we went a bit further out to another hill and worked on descending in vertical lines. For that, I did need to ask for direction with the rein aid, but the goal was to use inside leg and push his hind quarters over with a steady working length rein.
Something in the meadow had him on high alert, and then that big group of riders came by at a distance. Regina just had me stick to it—trust the process—and he mellowed out.
We rode back to the trailer over the same hills, which he did very well, then ended it on a positive note.
I was really happy that all the same things that happened on the trail also happened in today’s lesson and Regina gave me tools to work through them. We’re going to do the same work the next time we meet until he is rock solid.
I am so lucky to have a trainer willing to meet us—literally—where we’re at!
I have a ride coming up next week with a woman who takes lessons from my same trainer and is a seasoned and accomplished horsewoman. Her horse, from everything I’ve seen, is a pretty solid guy.
The issue is that in her later life she has developed a bit of a phobia of riding the trails. It’s partially due to silly things other people have done on rides and / or the difficulty in finding someone to ride with that is willing to do whatever it takes to make it successful. It is also, like in my case, a new trail horse for her, thus a new adventure.
Whether or not it materializes is yet to be seen, but I assured her I would help it be successful. It can be short and sweet or whatever she wants it to be. I even told her I have no issue getting off and walking them, if she feels the need. In fact, I often dismount in unpredictable places so that Tumbleweed never associates the trailer with the end of a ride.
We’re going to meet with our trainer beforehand and do some work together in a more contained environment, then head out.
I share her concerns, so fully get where she is coming from. I’ve been on rides with people who did dangerous things and it’s not fun.
I am the boring stickler: don’t run them up hills or back to the trailer and, honestly, don’t do anything that the whole group isn’t comfortable with first. I don’t like to see people “let big things go,” as it is often a precursor to their horse getting naughtier. At the same time, I don’t like to tell people how to handle their own horses. It’s a conundrum that comes with riding out in groups.
What are your own experiences and thoughts about this topic?
Tweed is coming along very well. He is new to it, so everything is a potential hobgoblin, but he worked past the scary things and never did anything BIG. The worst reaction was a halt and look (2x) and a fast descent down a hill (1x).
I don’t like it when he does the fast, racy downhill, as it is a sign of not paying attention. I try to direct every foot on the downs hills and even stop him. He did great on all except one, and I think it was the only one where he was following down—which might explain it. He is definitely better leading than following.
It was interesting to see what he found scary because they weren’t things I would have predicted. There was a stump he didn’t like, then a couple of large rocks. There was also an electric transfer station that all the horses find scary at first, and he did, too. We eventually rode through an equestrian campsite and he got excited about the new horses being unloaded. We passed another trailer on the road and Tweed talked to the horse being hauled. The horse talked back to him.
It was a longer ride, so he got a lot thrown at him and he held it together. Bravo, Tweed!
Tumbleweed is going to be a great lead trail horse. In fact, he led out most of the ride. There were only a couple of times where he balked and the other horse had to lead us through. The majority of the time it was reversed and Tumbleweed was the one leading the way. The other horse stopped and refused to go a couple of times, which put them way behind us where they had to eventually trot to catch up, but Tweed didn’t seem to care.
At this portion of the training, there is no substitute for just riding out. He needs constant, positive exposure, and lots of it. I’m going to do my best.
On a side note, the thin halter was too small for him, so I did have to order a new one after all. Almost there.
I was so euphoric on Friday when I wrote my last post that I realized later it sounded like a fairy tale and we were at this part:
They lived happily ever after. The End.
In fact, we are only at this part of the trail riding story:
Once upon a time, there was a woman who raised a beautiful, brave horse named Tumbleweed. The woman dreamed of someday riding the trails with him, and she spent many days (years) preparing for it (more work on herself than him). Soon, they were ready to set out.
One day….
In other words, we are at the beginning of this new chapter.
I am already frustrated that I can’t get right back out and build on what we started Friday. I worked with Tweed at home yesterday and today I am going out of town. The grandson gets home tomorrow and babysitting duties resume. I am going to have to be very creative.
In the meantime, I am piecing together all my old trail gear:
After my ride Friday, I was thinking how I wished I owned a thin riding halter, just in case I want to hop off and walk him through something or tie him somewhere.
I began researching them and almost bought one, then a light went off —…Um, I own one and used it often with Cowboy.
Ok.
But do you still have it?
The picture already gave it away. Yes, I save everything.
The next thing was finding my packs and seeing what was still in them and what they needed.
This is what was in them: sunblock, trail maps, roll on fly spray, and hand sanitizer (my last big rides were during the pandemic, and I had a lot of hand sanitizer!)
This is what I added to it: a first aid kit, ice pack, and vet wrap. Then, a utility knife with a hoof pick. (Cowboy had a shoe hang by one nail on a ride and I was only able to get it off because a friend had a similar utility knife.)
Finally, I was remembering back to some particularly buggy rides that inspired me to invest in riding masks. I looked them up on Amazon and saw that I had purchased them in ‘18 and ‘23. I’m sure they’re in my collection out there, but I ordered both again because you can never have enough fly masks. My horses are hard on them.
The visibility is excellent with the Cashel Quiet Ride masks. I didn’t think they created any issues when I rode with them before.
And last, but not least…
A friend made me a knife sheath long ago, and I have it tied to my saddle at all times. A horsewoman always needs a knife.
I forgot this essential, my side purse for the phone, reading glasses, car keys, and another pocket knife.
On the sidebar of this blog you will find “My Favorite Blogs”-you’re all on there, (many have gone dark ðŸ˜), and if you’re a horse blogger and not on there and would like to be, let me know.
There is also “Popular Posts,” which is generated by blogger stats. Since I took many of my old posts off last year during some weird, wild hair of mine, that section has been more representative of diverse topics.
Well, anywho, I do peek at that sidebar every so often and today I saw this one “A Sensitive, Neurotic Horse May Be Just What the Doctor Ordered.” It’s a time capsule that is relevant to my situation yesterday and some of you commented on it way back then.
Within it there is a link to another post: Equine Anxiety from a Psychiatric Perspective. It is based upon a conversation I had with my husband about human anxiety and how it can be applied to horses. (Your comments from the way back Time Machine are fun to read!)
Here is the portion of that convo that I find interesting today:
——
“Husband: Sure. [Seems to be eager to talk about one of his favorite topics.] There are cells, deep inside the brain that release norepinephrine, it's adrenaline, and that is released throughout the brain and affects all the major structures of the brain such as the cortex, which is where thinking goes on. So, people have scary thoughts, it affects the hypothalamus, which is what controls heartbeat, breathing and, of course, those go up in a panic attack. And then, norepinephrine stimulates nerves that go to the peripheral nervous system, which creates the shaking, sweating, and all those sorts of things, as well as the gut which can go into spasms and become part of it. That can go on from anywhere between ten minutes to two hours, and then, those people experiencing a panic attack will be drained, but it will replenish itself in a few hours.
The interesting thing is, while panic attacks usually start in some kind of situation of fear and anxiety, after a while, the thing that's really painful is that people fear having a panic attack itself--they fear the feeling of anxiety, and then they can become housebound.
Me: How do you stop a panic attack once it's started?
Husband: You have to start with a top down approach, so you go to the thinking part of the brain and start to rethink what's going on, re-frame what's going on, learn new ways to relax, learn to control at least one physiological parameter, because in a panic attack physiology is out of control. This tells the brain, I might be partly out of control, but I'm not totally out of control. And, eventually, you have to begin to expose yourself to feared situations, in small doses, so you can begin to re-experience them as more pleasurable now.
Me: So, for instance with Cowboy, panicking about water or anything else, how would that apply if they're already at the feared object?
Husband: If they're already there, try to get them to relax without having them go further. Don't let them run away. For humans, you have to get them to recapture some bodily function that they can control. Eventually, you want them to experience the feared situation as a pleasurable situation.”
——
In the follow-up article, I wrote this:
“The things I took from that human/horse panic attack connection were:
1. Control some physiological parameter. 2. Use a top down approach and get them thinking. 3. Do not pressure them forward, but get them to relax and not run away. (In retrospect, #3 should be amended a bit because it’s not real clear.) 4. Help them experience the feared situation as a pleasant situation.”
—-
So, here I am a decade or so later, did it work with Cowboy?
Yes.
When I switched to that modus operandi, Cowboy and I grew into the most exceptional trail riding partnership. I earned his try and his deep trust. That trust (and love) was one of the greatest accomplishments of my life.
Did he do absolutely everything I asked? No, but he always “tried” to do something towards it and he regularly went across water (which was his worst fear even before I got him.)
Did I feel super safe on his back? Yes, so safe. It was like we were one.
Did he want to go on rides with me? Yes, and he’d even walk past the trailer on purpose to keep rides going.
Was he a happier horse? Oh yes.
In a nutshell, I want with Tumbleweed what I had with Cowboy. ❤️ That sums it up best.
Interesting to hear what all your thoughts are now, a decade later.
—-
On another note, if you don’t own ZOCKS, you need some. I bought several pair five years ago and they are perfect for summer. Mine are finally getting thin from use, so I had to first remember what the heck they were called (zocks) and then buy them again. Worth the investment. 🙌
Oh my, what a day! I’ll just say it right off the top, the short trail ride with my friend went great! All the work we’ve done was there—from checking in with me to asking which foot to put where, what speed to go, and if I wanted to stop going down a hill or stop going up a hill, walk back to the trailer, be able to stop and pay attention (even when the trailer was in sight), and to lead out with a new a horse following behind.
See that ear turned back to me? That’s what I had the whole way. If I lost it too long, I’d ask for vertical flexion, squeeze him forward if he tried to stop, and then release it. (I also sat deep on my pockets!)
When we got back to the obstacle course we did some light work before the lesson, and these two sweeties came along.
Be still my heart. I joked that Tumbleweed could be their long lost brother since they share the same coloring.
So, we attempted the bridge again, but he still wanted to avoid it. I accepted a nose touch and a foot on it because he had done so well on the trail (the big prize) I didn’t want to undo everything we gained with a fight.
The friend I was with (only after being asked by me. I asked, since you just rode with us, what would you suggest I work on during the lesson?) …She wasn’t sure she should answer that trick question, but after some prodding she said she thought I shouldn’t have given up on the bridge obstacle until he went across. She doesn’t think he should get in the habit of saying, NO.
A valid point, although I countered that his heart was beating pretty hard and I could feel it through my fenders. I didn’t want to get bigger, especially after the trail ride and before a lesson. It wasn’t a battle I wanted right then.
When my lesson was about ready to start, I brought it up with Regina—when is it too much versus “not enough?”
Regina said she understood the concept, but with the bridge still being broken, she didn’t want to school him on it and risk him getting injured. She suggested to do the same work, but on different obstacles—the sand pit and the big logs.
The sand pit obstacle is harder than the bridge, and I’ve added a few stops and turns to it. As we were schooling on the sand pit, and Tweed was doing awesome, my friend called my name. Her horse had broken free and was running across the park to get back to her new boyfriend, my beautiful boy.
I dismounted and Regina told me to keep my attention on Tumbleweed. We could see the sweet mare running towards us like a heat seeking missile. Tweed didn’t know how to respond and flagged his tail, arched his neck, but Regina’s advice was spot on. I turned my attention to Tweed and he returned my attention almost 💯. He calmed right down. Regina secured the mare and all was well.
We restarted the sand pit obstacle and I worked on sharpening my turn cue.
Finally, we went to the logs. Up to that point Tweed had only accomplished it from the ground, and not with me riding him.
We did the same thing—got a long straight start, checked him ahead of the obstacle with vertical flexion, sat back on my pockets (it felt super far back, but it works), and gave him the reins.
Tada!
I am building a confident horse and a partnership! The thanks goes to my trainer, Regina. All those building blocks she added filled the holes. There were times I didn’t know how what we were doing related to trail riding, but it did. She said today that because we worked in all these things, when I ask for them on the trail they comfort him. He is familiar with it and it supports him. ❤️
We have so much more to accomplish, but it is safe to say, I officially have a trail horse now.
As I write, I am beginning to tear up because I am so happy. The last two years have been hard, but we didn’t stop, and now this. I am deeply, deeply grateful.
Not least of which, I am grateful to Tumbleweed. I’m not sure if he is a late bloomer or if my life complications slowed down his progress. (Maybe a little of both.) But what he is turning into is a strong-minded trail leader. We’ve achieved that essential quality, togetherness.
