Friday night I rode and did a little work on Peanut's gaits. We only went twice up the driveway, but it was pretty good. I told Rick about my revelation with my rein length, and he told me that the bitless made my reins uneven. So, to even them out I would have to have uneven reins. Well, there goes that theory.
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Saturday morning we packed up the Fhoenix and visited Jill, another former Legacy boarder whose current barn is all of 12 miles from ours. It was great to see her again, and she's saddle shopping since her insulin resistant friesian is newly svelte and not fitting her old saddle very well anymore. Her new natural trimmer told her so. Hmmm... where have I heard something like that before?
As an aside, her trimmer reminds me a lot of Dawn - she's about the entire horse. I wonder if it's a thing about natural trimmers.
Jill wanted to love the Fhoenix the same way that I did. She wanted to sit in it, have it be perfect, and know that it was the right saddle.
It didn't work out that way.
Instead she felt pitched forward. Anne-Marie later said that she felt the same way in the Fhoenix until she sat in it a little differently, and then it was awesome. I told her to tell Jill this, but I don't know if she had yet. I know Jill was disappointed, though.
However, her trimmer gave her 3 saddles to try that were for sale. Rick, being the Saddle Man, talked saddles with Jill and then fitted them to Gaby. I just stood around like the ignorant dweeb that I am. I'll blather your ear off about feet, but I know fuck-all about saddles. Rick ended up liking the saddle that Jill liked, but the trimmer was coming back that night to talk saddles again so Rick was just giving preliminary opinions.
I got hella sunburned, too.
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Saturday afternoon we headed back to our barn, and Rick, Anne-Marie and I headed out on the trails. It was going quite nicely until Anne noticed that the cinch on the saddle that Joan loaned her was hanging down and tickling Cheyenne. Anne dismounted in order to fix it, and while we were contemplating remounting areas (the saddle is treeless, I don't know how it would tolerate ground mounting) the hooping and hollering that we had been hearing for quite a while came closer. We were in a four-way junction of trails at this time.
A group of riders come hurtling down the trail, then stopped when they got near us. They were waiting for others in their group and deciding which way to go. Our horses backed up on their own accord away from them, down another trail, and we didn't blame them.
They were rednecks, in the worst sense of the word. Their horses were thin, bug-eyed, and none-too-happy looking. There wasn't a helmet to be found among them, and most appeared to be drunk or were openly drinking. The one who came out first started trying to make small talk with Anne, who happened to be closest, while Rick and I just stood in the back feeling uncomfortable. Not once did they inquire why one of us happened to be off of their horse, which I found odd. As some of them stood around, one person's horse wouldn't stop dancing, prancing, and almost rearing. The "lead" guy's horse was in some sort of bitless contraption, and the nose piece was low enough on the nose to break it or at least constrict its breathing.
Luckily they came from south Jersey so hopefully they aren't there that often.
Once everyone caught up, they headed off, which involved kicking the horses straight into a gallop and taking off down the trails. Our horses were none to pleased, and the three of us were speechless with disgust. They had no idea why Anne was on the ground, and they took off in a way that would spook most horses. How considerate.
The horses wanted to get out of there fast, and we had quite a time keeping them from taking off down the trail in the opposite direction of the riders. We found a sort of acceptable place to mount, and Rick and I blocked each end of the trail with Chey in the middle. Anne finally got on after many false starts (the horses would not calm down) and we were off to home.
Everyone was up, and Chey would occasionally start spinning, once almost hitting Peanut who hopped up in the front, feeling like he wanted to full-out rear. We struggled to keep the horses at a walk, and eventually got back to the barn completely worn out. Anne and I were proud of ourselves: we stayed on our horses through all of that, resisting the urge to dismount, and by the time we dismounted the horses had relaxed.
When we weren't talking about how proud we were, we trash-talked the rednecks.
Are we English snobs? Perhaps, but we don't consider our horses to simply be equipment and we are courteous of the other riders (or bikers, or hikers) we encounter. Usually, our encounters are everyone trying to let the other group head down the trail first or else talking about tack or how lovely the horses are.
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On Sunday, mother's day, my mother came to the new barn for the first time and saw her grandhorses for the third time. I finally showed her Peanut's tricks, and we all (Rick, Gene, me, Peanut, Anne, Cheyenne, my mother) went for a walk in Fair Hill. The horses were just on leads, and it was nice except the horses like to go faster than my mother and I like to walk. We're short, ok? Tiny little legs like to go slow.
3 comments:
Hahaha, Jersey rednecks are probably pretty horrible!
It sounds like Anne-Marie and Chey are really doing well together. That's awesome. And you all stayed on your jumpy horses! Yay!
I am totally looking forward to next week :)
Sara, the rednecks sound like they were from a couple of barns that I looked at... and then kept driving right by!!! I'd be making fun of them right along with you, Rick and Anne-Marie (who is welcome to come visit Tory Hill with you and Rick, BTW)
Speaking of mothers, now that Daniel's a who 10 miles from home, my mother's been there 3 times! I don't think she's been to Legacy 3 times and we were there 2 years! :-)
Funder- As the Jersey rednecks said, "we're from Jersey, but we ain't city folk." Glad you told me, I never would have guessed!
I actually like South Jersey as far as driving though it. It's pretty farm land that ends in beaches. Too bad about the rednecks, though.
I'm looking forward too... better book a room now that I know when we're motoring out! Ooops.
I'm glad we stayed on. But, the saddle rules.
Lisa - welcome to my blog of blatherings!
There were barns like that around Fair Hill that I looked at. Ick. I didn't keep driving by, though. :S
Awww, I wish that my mother could come out more, but she doesn't want to ride and there's not much else to do but sit on our mounting block and stare at each other. She's from north of Philly, anyway, around about Cherry Hill, so it's a haul.
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