My Golden Boy

(Tweed worked up a sweat)

This horse. He is pouring his little heart out for me. ❤️

We had a lesson at the park yesterday, but beforehand I rode him in the round pen and arena myself while my trainer was giving another lesson. 

Tweed is hesitant about standing water, so we practiced our new skill of vertical flexion (I have a job for you to do), release and allow him to extend his neck to the job, and then do the job. 

It worked. 

Soon we were trotting through the water confidently and Tweed was very willing and proud of himself. 

In the big arena I practiced a skill I’d seen a trainer on Facebook do: walk a circle so your horse knows the exact pattern (he actually used cones), then ride them on the circle on a loose rein, only correcting them if they leave the circle or to check their speed. 

Well, that didn’t go so well. Tweed was distracted with all the other horses. It was, for lack of a better word, sloppy. 

About that time my trainer walked over, finished with her other lesson, and asked me what I was doing and how it was working. I explained it to her and she said that is a good exercise, but he’s not ready for it yet. 

The homework she’d given me (and that I’d practiced throughout the week) was to ask for vertical flexion and hind end engagement, then release the contact by small degrees to the amount of contact where Tumbleweed would CONTINUE to carry himself. If he stopped carrying himself, get him back into vertical flexion and repeat. And repeat. And repeat. 

She’s right, of course. That’s the whole point of what we’re doing, getting him to use that beautiful big hind end of his in the correct way. Strengthen him. Prepare him for those big old hills. 

It’s hard, hard work, and they want to escape it (like he did on the trail rides) so he found things to get scared about—like a dust devil with pine needles swirling our way. Oh. My. Goodness! Those ears went up. He froze. I couldn’t get him forward. He wanted to run away. 

I didn’t know what to do. 

My trainer yelled at me to make him face it. I did as I was told and she went to stand between us and his perceived monster on the outside of the arena. Then she told me to push him forward and get him back to work, vertical flexion, controlled speed. 

I did that too. It worked. 

She yelled out at me, “You just recreated what happens on the hills and got through it! Good job!”

I think I’m a slow learner, because it just now really hit me how ALL these things are tied together. I probably discounted the importance of the arena work. Why? I don’t know. The trainer who started him sure doesn’t discount that work. Nor does my current personal trainer. 

Anyway, we kept progressing to harder and harder work at the lope and that little horse of mine was trying so hard for me as I was STRUGGLING with correct inside and outside rein and seat and legs. My trainer was like, sit back! Further! Deeper! Further! 

I felt like I was lying down in the saddle, but she assured me I was only slightly back. 

It dawns on me now that I am learning to engage my own hind end as much as Tweed is learning to engage his. And guess what? It works. When you sit your butt in that saddle like you should, they respond. 

Afterward, I walked him around and visited with some of my friends and their horses. Gave him lots of scratches and love as we rested and enjoyed what was a beautiful 60 degree 🌞 day. 

Then unsaddled and groomed him and walked him around some more. 

I didn’t want to go home. I just wanted to be there forever with my golden boy. 

Bareback on Tweed: Day One

I love to ride bareback. In my experience, it gives you a whole new level of connection with your horse. You can feel every twitch in their back, which tells you about their stress or relaxation. You can feel their heartbeat, fast or measured. And you can let your legs hang over their body and feel where your center is—and theirs. It takes away the middle man, the saddle, a physical, and even spiritual, barrier between you. It’s just a totally different level of closeness. 

Bonus: I think bareback improves saddle riding. 

Today was my first day riding Tumbleweed bareback. Well, “riding” would be an overly generous description. Let’s just say we’re starting very, very slow. 

First, we were working at home and, for Tweed, Home is where the naughty is. Fifty shades of Naughty, to be exact. 

I wouldn’t want to ride that bareback! (Or in saddle!)  The struggle was real! He was struggling with everything to do with working at home and not being with his buddies in pasture. Each buck, kick, rear, was a major middle finger to work. 

At those times you wish you could say, Chill out dude. Just do a little bit of work and you get your freedom back!

But no. They have to do it the hard way. Every. Time. 😆 

It is amazing how crazy they can look, then five minutes later be right in your pocket. Once he got it all out, and became a solid citizen, we did some beautiful pole work and then headed to the mounting block for his first “bareback ride.”

He came right over to the sweet spot, first ask, and up I went. (Sorry no photos). 

Some horses will scoot or bolt when they first feel a rider without a saddle. Tweed stood still, but his ears were alert and his back muscles were all twitching under me like I was some kind of huge, annoying fly on his back. 

I thought to myself, yeah, I’ll just sit here and pet on him for awhile, get my own balance, and let him get okay with me. 

After a short while, the muscles in his back relaxed and he took a deep breath, so we walked out and over the poles and then back. I slid off, jumped off, (he seemed a bit confused, but he needs to get used to me “coming off” just in case he scoots too fast and I come off unplanned). 

Back to the mounting block. Again he lined up perfect on the first ask, which is a good thing because he’s a big horse and I need all the help I can get mounting up with no stirrups. 

The second time up, there was less twitching, and I was able to move around and get a feel for him.  

He’s so different than Cowboy or Leah. My legs don’t hang as long on him. He’s a big boy.  

I did the same stuff, petting him and letting him relax, then we did a little work with vertical flexion, and I got some softness from him and more big licks and chews and a relaxed head. 

I jumped down again and called it good. 

He seemed happy with it all. I was happy it went so well for our first time. Everyone was happy. 

I plan to do this all week, adding little bit by little bit. The ultimate goal is to ride him bareback in the snow, because when it’s cold out, I need all the warmth I can get. 

A Garage Patio for Winter

 

I had a fun day with Tweed yesterday enjoying some rare mom and daughter horseback moments. Tumbleweed couldn’t believe he had a buddy with him and seemed to like watching her work and struggle more than he was. You go girl!

There was one point at which everything converged. He couldn’t see Epona and several groups of horses returned to the equestrian area. He went from concentrating on his work to struggling with his attention and then yanking and shaking his head to get out of it. 

It was an “oh crap” moment and in my mind I saw myself getting dumped. His energy was at a 7, but in those moments you don’t know if they’re going to a 10. 

I was on my own, so I had to trust what my trainer had drilled into me—meet his energy and continue to support him—he will come back to you. 

Right or wrong, (it felt right in the moment) I decided to ask for less collection and more forward movement in circles and serpentines. We moved across the arena at an extended trot that I could post. We circled barrels and rode straight, long lines—mixed it up. 

It must have been what he needed because he completely stopped worrying and we were able to get back to the program and have fun. 

So, what does that little nugget mean for the trails? How can I support him in the same way out in the big world?

This meme resonated with me.  

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We are hovering around freezing at night now which means we had to bring in the flowers we want to overwinter. 

The petunias you see here are all volunteers that came up through the bricks. 

It is the most glorious volunteer army of flowers we have ever had. I hope they come back again next year.

As for the potted plants, I read an article last week about people using their garages for patio space. We overwintered our plants in the garage last year, which kept us from parking cars in it. I figured, why not make it a patio space and enjoy the flowers all winter?

So we moved in some of the furniture and arranged the plants around a sitting space. The garage is fully insulated and we keep it warm in the winter. The only issue is sunlight, but we ordered an overhead system of grow lights to add to the floor grow lights we already have. I hope it works.

Building Strength through the Struggle

Struggle: to try very hard to do, achieve, or deal with something that is very difficult.

I had the privilege of enjoying a beautiful fall day with Tumbleweed today. First, by myself. Then, joining up with my trainer. 

Because of our travels, it had been a whole week off for Mr. Tweed, but you wouldn’t have known it.  

Which brings up a point we discussed during the lesson about time and consistency. My trainer said everyone has difficulty finding the time, but in her experience, if you get their best effort when you do work together, the next time should build on that. In other words, quality is more important than quantity. 

She also doesn’t interpret anything Tweed’s doing as disrespect. She sees it more as energy that needs to be directed or redirected. That energy can be nervous energy, when he’s unsure about using his body. It can also be environmental—new sights, sounds, smells. 

She said these are his “struggles,” a word she prefers to use, rather than evasions or disrespect or whatever other word we often hear but implies something negative or sinister.

She says that when he does get anxious, and struggles, I have to meet his energy and slightly exceed it. If he goes to a 5, I have to go to a 5.2, not a 10 and not a 1. She calls this “supporting him.”

Regarding the hills, she said the reason he does better on the shorter ones is because he is able to get through them faster before that energy builds up. On the longer ones, like last Thursday, he built up his energy / anxiety, I tried to slow him, and then the energy was redirected into headshaking. She says the energy has to go somewhere and it’s our job to direct it or, in that case, redirect it, by turning him back up or riding it out.

For now, she gave me some exercises to do during the winter to get him engaging his hind end and reaching or extending in front with various degrees of collection, as needed. I start him out in vertical flexion, then slowly release a little back to him, just enough for him to continue in vertical flexion on his own. If he drops it, which he often does, I pick it back up and start again.

When we get that going well in all gaits, we move to riding to new objects (for example, a barrel with flowers on it or anything else new) gathering him into flexion about 3 horse lengths before the object (a signal that something is coming up that I want him to pay attention to) then walking him slowly to the object and asking him to acknowledge it by stretching into it and dropping his nose. 

After he’s doing that well, the last exercise is walking and trotting circles in collection but asking him to move his shoulder over to the right or left just one hoof length from where we’re tracking. And when he’s doing it consistently to ask him to move into the circle in a smaller circle (maybe a 10’ circle) same gait, hind end engaged, and moving his shoulders over, rather than dropping them.

It was hard work for Tumbleweed today, but his evasions or “no’s” or, ahem, attempt to redirect the conversation and expectations, were only trying to slow down, stop, or get too fast. It was all easy to ride and redirect.

These will be the things we continue to do to strengthen his body and my ability to communicate and direct him, but she also encouraged me to keep riding the trails and give him that exposure piece, even if it means walking him down some of those steep hills. 

She also encouraged me to look at everything he can do, his successes and how far we have come. 

When she put it like that it seemed obvious how comfortable we have become as a riding team and how much effort Tumbleweed has really given me—a ton of effort. It is up to me to help him through his “struggles,” when they arise, and be the kind of team leader that navigates him towards success.

Come to think about it, life is about the struggles for all of us. We become stronger, smarter, braver, by working through them.

An Anniversary Week

Last week I contacted my horse starting trainer about the things Tweed and I are experiencing on the trail and asked her opinion about how she deals with it. 

Her first answer went straight to respect. The head-tossing is him getting bigger than me to escape the work. But she agreed that he needs to be collected, just like we do in the arena, and encouraged to use his hind end. So, what I’m asking is correct. It’s just hard. 

Later that day, she had time to reflect and write more, and she said that it’s hard work for them going up and down hills and they often want to rush it or get out of it. She sees it a lot. She said that is why she spends so much time on preparing them, getting them fit and using their bodies correctly. One thing she does is asking them to back up hills. (That’s something I tried with success two weeks ago).

Exposure (lots of trail time), Fitness (learning to use his body and being in shape), and Respect (which is best worked out in safe spaces beforehand). 

There is one thing I left out of my 3-prong approach, and that is TIME and consistency. As a full-time babysitter, I haven’t had that, but going forward I have to figure out a way to make more time and be more consistent. I think it’s possible with the help of the other set of grandparents, and coincidentally, they are asking for more opportunities to help. 

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Speaking of time, it was my husband’s and my anniversary yesterday, so we went on an adventure to the San Juan Islands. 

We had a lot of fun island hopping and discovering fun things we’d never seen before. 

At our last romantic dinner, Sunday night, we talked about our life together so far, all the many things we’ve seen and done, our children and grandchildren, and what we want our life to look like going forward into this last chapter. 

We used to see nothing but infinite possibilities, but now we see our changing roles and the realities of aging. In some areas, we need to shrink our lives and prepare for those changes, and in other areas, we need to still expand. 

We decided to go somewhere new for every anniversary going forward. Close, far, doesn’t matter—just experience something new and delight in the adventure together, like we did last weekend and the day we got married, license in hand, no plan. 

All these years later, he is still the person I love getting lost (and found) with. Home, for me, is wherever he is. 

Change of Plan

(This hill is steeper than it looks, but not as steep as many of the others we encounter.)

Well, we had an interesting day today doing the hill in front of the equestrian campground. (The Rocky Horror Hill is for another day). Tweed played all his “best of” hits for my trainer to see: head tossing, speeding up going downhill while head tossing, and even trying to buck going up because I wouldn’t let him canter. 

She was able to compare that behavior to his bushwhacking (confident & tuned in, he’s a bushwhacking pro) and smaller hills (easy to control his speed and calm, no problemo). 

She agreed with my 3 areas of focus: exposure, respect, and fitness, and she was able to determine that this issue is almost entirely fitness related, which seems to be building his anxiety (and mine).

So, what to do. 

More hills and more extended collection work in the arena to build strength and body confidence. As I ride the trails, it’s fine to zig zag, choose better paths down, or even get off and walk him down (until he builds up fitness and confidence). 

She does not think I should stop him on hills. She’d rather that I turn him around and go back up when he starts head tossing on the descent. We had a long discussion about why, but it comes down to balance and confidence. 

Next week she’s going to work with me on a program we can use all winter to keep building his strength. 

For now, until the equestrian park closes, lots of hills he can do well to build up his strength and confidence, and a continuation of the bushwhacking (which he seems to love), and trail exposure. 

Work from his strengths, as he is a horse who seems do well with that focus. Honestly, they probably all do, and surprise, surprise, so do humans. 

Downhill Success

What a difference two days makes. 

I developed a plan for downhill work last week that included stopping Tweed and backing him up the hill, but I hadn’t put it to the test yet. 

So, today was all about hill work: little hills, big hills, medium hills that descend to the equestrian camp area where they’re setting up for this weekend’s regional ETS competition. 

Before we started hills, I did some collection work in the arena to see if he still had that floaty trot going on. He did. I attribute his improved collection to improved body strength and body confidence. 

In fact, he even lost a little weight. Yay, Tweed!

I can fasten his back cinch one full notch up. 

We didn’t ride with anyone else today, and quite honestly, that makes trail work easier. There’s so much more you have to deal with when you ride with others, and that will be my next post. 

But today was just awesome. I could not have asked for a more thoughtful horse on hills. When I asked him to stop, he stopped, even when he slid for a few inches. When I asked him to backup the hill, he did that, too. Every hill I rode him to was the same. 

I spoke to my trainer afterwards (ran into her as I was pulling out), and she agreed with me that he has built up strength and body confidence from riding out and doing hills. The answer to hills is more hills. Lots and lots of hills. (We’re going to have a lesson next week on the most challenging hills at RSP. One of them is the ROCKY horror picture show of hills!) 

The more quietly he descends and ascends them, the more he realizes they are nothing to fear, which lowers his anxiety. Yes, Tweed, slow and steady wins the race!

Exposure, fitness/ diet, and respect/trust for the win. 🏆 

The Hardest Parts

It has been about two weeks since I came up with a plan to fill in the holes and work towards 100% (impossible, but a worthy goal).  How is it going?

Well, we haven’t made much progress with the teeter totter bridge, but his work on the normal bridge has improved. He wants to please me, and has found the standard bridge work to be his “okay” spot now. The teeter totter will continue to be a work in progress. 

We had a trail ride today, and when we showed up they were dragging the arena. 

That made him nervous, so we went to work right out of the trailer and then over to saddle when he was relaxed. 

We have been working on saddling because he had a habit of taking a couple of steps away when I threw the pad up. 

(Here he is another day we worked on it.)

I brought him back to where I asked him to be (it took two times) and then he stood perfectly still for the saddle toss up. 

Same thing today, corrected twice, then got the stand still. (First photo) That was a very easy issue to correct with Tweed.

Let me just say, there is so much he is doing awesome! He loads, unloads, walks out on the trail, doesn’t try to run back to the trailer, and leads out when asked. He bushwhacks like a rock star, too. He has one issue: rushing down hills. 

He didn’t do much better with the straight steep ones today, even with all our work, but I did take him over to the side and descend in zigzags through the brush and over down limbs and logs, and he did awesome.  He was watching where he put his feet, being very careful, and lifting up his hind legs super well. 

All of this has given me more information and more ideas. He is anxious about steep hills and wants to rush through them, rather than pick his way carefully down. 

He is fit enough to accomplish hills, though still unsure how to use his body. 

When I take him out Thursday I’m going to go back to the steep hills and work them in sections, starting with the bottom half. If he rushes, I’m going to ask him to stop, then back up. To slow him, I’ll use one rein to ask for a subtle direction shift. If he rushes to the bottom, I’ll put him to work at the bottom and then do it again.

The more we do them, the more I understand what needs to be done next. I like the idea of letting him build confidence with the zigzagging, but some hills just don’t allow it. 

When we got back to the trailer we went into the arena and did some collected trot work. Oh. My. Goodness! Like the bridge after the teeter totter, he did so much better at collection after the trail ride. It was like floating on wings. He was really engaging his hindquarters and almost zero resistance. It was just beautiful. 

In other words, when you go for that last 10-20%, the previous 80-90% gets better, too. 

The fact is, the last 10-20% is the hardest, and slowest, work of all. Filling the holes takes everything I’ve got. But it will also reap the BIGGEST rewards. 

The Holes Can Hurt You

As I was working with Tweed, the last post synthesized into the title of this one: the holes can hurt you. 

We don’t know where the holes are until we are put to the test, but when they are revealed (and they will be), it’s our responsibility to address them. For Tweed and me, it boils down to fitness (body confidence and awareness), exposure (wet blankets), and the Respect which leads to Trust. 

It isn’t good enough to have 80-90% because that hole, the 10-20% can ruin a ride for both of you. 

So, I started to look at everything with a critical eye: where are the holes and how do I fill them?

If he comes off the trailer looky loo, I give him a job. 

If I go to throw the saddle up and he takes a couples steps to the side, I stop and bring him back. 

If he has trouble with hills, I ride him up and down hills and, like today, even back him down hills to put more emphasis on picking up those back feet, and placing them carefully where I ask.  

I reevaluated the obstacle course, too. Tweed does them all well, except one—the teeter totter bridge. That bridge exposes the holes better than any. He lacks the confidence and trust to do it. I was letting it slide, but then thought, NO, that is exactly the 10% more I’m going for. 

We did that today, too. He started by giving me only two feet, but we were able to get all four feet on by the end and called it good. For now. That’s the best he’s ever done, and I want to build on it. 

We worked hard for an hour and half today, which means tomorrow we can do a trail ride. We did a solo ride on Tuesday, and I found some “holes” around the equestrian campground. 

We walked over the logs, and lunged up and down the hills around the campground, with a couple of horses whinnying for him. It was great practice for focus. This was all done in-hand, but tomorrow we will do it all again in saddle. 

Time to fill in those holes and get to happier, magic’er trails!

I Want It All

I’m upping my game. I have to. The trail work requires more of Tumbleweed, and even me. Its like we were playing, but now we’re training. Don’t get me wrong. It’s still fun, but it’s also more methodical. 

So, this is how it’s going down:

1. He got too fat on pasture. He’s on a diet.

2. When he does a trail ride longer than two hours, he gets the next day off to rest.  

3. On days we aren’t riding trails, and he isn’t resting, we are doing pole work and riding for strength through collection and lots of transitions, either here at home, or the park.

4. Before each ride (or after) we’re doing Masterson Method work and side tail pulls. 

5. When we start our work, or go somewhere and unload, if he starts to look around and lose relaxation, he immediately gets a job. At no point now is he allowed to “takeover.” I have started following that like religion this week. Even if he steps to the side while I’m saddling, I stop and bring him back to where I set him. I found that I was giving him too much freedom and he was taking that as a lack of leadership. He has one job: do what I ask.

6. Lots of hill work, in hand and in saddle. If he acts up on a hill, we repeat the hill until he goes down with collection. 

7. Introducing new gaits on the trail so he doesn’t think we’re running for our lives when he gets asked to trot or lope. 

8. Daily supplements with the addition of Cosequin ASU.

9. Solo trail rides between rides with partners.

This has been the first week of the new prescription, and in some ways, he is already improving, though he isn’t too sure about some of it yet because it’s not his normal routine. He got worked up about the gait changes on the trail and he doesn’t like turning around and doing hills again. He doesn’t particularly like solo rides now either, but they’re good for his confidence. 

I thought all these things through carefully with an emphasis on his fitness and ability to use his WHOLE body. Trail rides require everything from us and it’s not fair to him to be unconditioned. At the same time, it is trail rides that provide the most conditioning, but since we can’t get out every day, he has to work on fitness in between. 

It has made me look forward to winter with dread because I do not want to take that time off. We’re going so good right now and I want it to continue, not have to start again. 

I feel like a drill sergeant, and Tumbleweed looks at me like, who are you and where did you hide my owner? But I see how close we are to the magic, and that little bit we have been missing is his complete surrender to my leadership. I left a little door open, not sure why, probably a hangover from thinking of him as a baby, but now I am shutting it. 90% isn’t good enough anymore. 

I want it all. 

(Hopefully, this post won’t be followed by another one about me getting bucked off! Haha)

Getting to Happiness

Today started out with a lesson, and Regina had us work on getting Tweed’s attention fully on an obstacle before beginning it. The goal is to get him to pay attention to his feet up and downhills. She said he has a tendency to look past obstacles. At the top of a hill, he’s looking 20 feet past the bottom. At the bridge, he’s looking 10 feet past it. Etc. 

It was excellent work for Tumbleweed and paid off on the trails. I collected him before each hill, then released him and let him make his way. He was much more careful picking his way up and down. 

The dynamics with the new horse were different than Tuesday. The companion was a seasoned gelding who has done lots pack trips. Tweed wanted to be right on his butt, and he didn’t mind. We forced Tweed to lead off and on, but Tweed preferred to follow him. (That was an unusual behavior for him.)

So, while Tweed did much better this ride, we didn’t have the same connection we did Tuesday. He wanted to be more connected with Gunner, the golden old boy. I think Tweed would have even liked to join his herd and go home with him. Lol.

It was a 3 hour day for Tweed, and the boy was just so tired!

Is this fun yet, Tweed? It is for me, but I’m not sure you’re loving it.

I have to say, when I groomed him to prepare for the lesson and ride, my whole body and spirit were filled with happy endorphins. He has become my happy place, and I hope he will grow to love our rides as much as I do.  

He seems to want to, and probably will, when they’re easier for him.

An ‘Aha’ Moment

I was curious how today’s ride would go after Thursday’s adventure. I have a lesson planned with my trainer in two days, and we were in contact about what happened last time. She has some ideas to work on it. Her advice for me today was to make sure I warmed him up in the arena first and had him tuned in and listening. (We haven’t done that for the last two rides).

I arrived early and got to it, and Tweed definitely had a little resistance which was quickly worked out. No big drama or anything, just asked him to do his transitions again until he was less pissy about them. 

My friend arrived with her horse, and we stood and talked with another friend, then went out to the obstacle course.  

The very beginning of the trail ride, the two horses were getting to know each other and Tweed was acting reactive for the first, maybe, 100’ of it. My friend’s horse saw a ribbon blowing on a post and reacted to it. Tweed checked it out, head high, then I petted his neck and he took a big breath and relaxed. I asked him to go past and take the lead, and he did, while the companion horse worked through it, then quickly joined us. 

Oddly enough, that small incident worked everything out, and they were both awesome. Tweed seemed to like that Obe, the other horse, had shown concern. Maybe it made him trust him more, like if that horse is okay, the world must be okay.  Who knows. But he had zero problem following him everywhere. 

On our first ride, Tweed was scared of this building below. 

Yet, on this ride, he didn’t seem to care one bit. As you can see, his ears are where they should be, one on me and one on the thing. 

We expanded the trails this time and did more riding along the river, but it was woven into easier trail work. We’d be on the river for awhile, then cut in to the interior, then back out. 

We ended back up at the same spot we were at last week and took another photo. 

On the way back, down a hill, he got to tossing his head and speeding up.  My friend commented that it looked more like barn sour behavior. I think she’s right, and as we talked about it, we realized he thought he was on his way back to the trailer last Thursday when we had that other incident. (I ended up taking him another way that day and not back home).

It was an aha moment for me. 

While there’s no doubt balance factors in, going home is at play, too, and that’s a whole different ballgame, one I have had to work through with every horse I’ve had. 

He didn’t do that badly, but my friend could see how that needs to be worked out before we try some of the really difficult, steep and narrow trails. We can’t have him trying to take the reins and run home. He has to learn the lesson that acting right gets him home and acting out gets him more work and further from home. 

All part of the green horse experience, but overall, I couldn’t be happier with the horse I rode today. We were a little over two hours out, and he was a pure pleasure going over logs, up and down hills, past scary stumps, and along the drop offs to the river. He was relaxed and tuned in. 

We’re making progress fast. 

The Ups and Downs of Up and Down

Oh, trail rides on a green horse. They are so…unpredictable. Of course, hindsight is always 20/20, and I could have used some for this ride. But we’re alive and ended strong. 

First off, I didn’t sleep well last night, and grandson came up sick. I barely made it to this ride and my brain was not fully engaged. 

For some reason, I got it in my head to go to this river access point (above), but it has one of the most technical descents. I told myself I’d walk him down it and get him used to that stretch, and we did. All was fine, even though he did a lot of sliding. My friend said he was dragging his feet in back, and he was, and I’m not sure why. Her horse did a little of that, too, so I’m guessing he was trying to slow down the slide or not get his feet up so high that one slipped too far out from the other. At any rate, that was the hardest part of the ride, and he survived. 

So, my friend wanted to explore a trail I’d never been on before. 

When we got into it, it was flanked by dense bushes with a drop off to the river. There was also some kind loud buzzing transfer building beneath us. Oh, and hills. It was so narrow that you couldn’t turn around. Once you’re in, you’re in. He did pretty good until he heard something scurrying in the bushes, then he got worried. After a while down that trail, we finally came to a spot we could tightly turn around, and we did. 

I told her if he’s going to be working on narrow paths with drop offs and vertical descents, they need to be a little more open for now. 

She took those photos above, but they are before we entered the narrow trail. 

Heading back, we had to ascend the same crap hills. On the worst part, Tweed wanted to run, but my friend’s horse was leading. I checked his speed and he told me f-off, for lack of a better word. I dismounted, to be safe, and walked him the rest of the way. At the half way point it levels out, then turns up another steep hill with no turnarounds. I asked to lead, but he was amped up. When we turned up the hill, he tried to grab the reins and run. I checked his speed and he flipped me the bird and got turned around sideways. Once again, I dismounted and had to walk up that hill myself. It sucked in more ways than one. I was sucking air.  

At the top, tired and hot, I mounted again and then did a couple loops in the trees. He came back to me. I had my horse again. 

That was about 1/3 of our ride, so the remaining 2/3’s was golden. 

We went to lots of new places, and some old hills, and he discovered he now likes those hills. In fact, Tweed discovered he likes riding everywhere, but the hills from hell, quite a bit. It’s as if the first 1/3 of our ride was reform school for horses (and riders). 

All told, we rode just under 5 miles, but it seemed like 20, and it was HOT. 

I’m so happy we had a happy ending, because we got to end on a positive note where we were both confident in each other and ready for our next adventure. And they are definitely ADVENTURES. 

Someday, they won’t be. They’ll be boring. While I long for that day, I think I will miss these beginning nail-biter ones. It’s where you bond in blood, sweat, and tears. 

Well, at least sweat. Hopefully no blood or tears. Ha!