Mr. Peanut's Wild Ride

I rode on Saturday on the trails for the first time in a long time.  Rick and I were just going to do our short loop, which takes maybe 15-25 minutes.

A little background: the boys are getting evening feedings this winter for the first time since I had them.  They will be ending come the first of the month.

Going out I had a pokey pony, who needed a little slap with the reins on either side of the withers to get his rear in gear.  I led most of the way out - including across the road even though I got a hard spook out of Peanut at the top of it - and then we turned to the trail that takes us back.  At this point, Gene was leading.

It was getting late and Gene heard his oats calling.  He switched into his huge, fast trot that Peanut has to canter to keep up with and took off.  Peanut, hearing the call of his supplements, switched into the canter and we took off down the narrow, twisting, wooded trail.

This is where I have to say that we should have turned them around, we should have made them walk out more, and repeated until we had a controlled ride back.  However, Rick was aching to dismount and I decided it was time to battle my remaining demons once and for all.  I had feared a scenario exactly like this, so I was going to see it to the end.

Neither horse was paying attention to our signals.  I had raised into 2-point as his gaits weren't consistent, which took my seat and legs out of the equation.  I was back to reins, which I hadn't really used in a while, and Peanut blew through them.  At one point, as we cantered full-tilt towards an almost 90-degree turn, I verbally asked for the whoa and I got it.  Whew!  All I could picture was his feet flying one way, his body flying another, and me getting squished under 1100 lbs of blubbery palomino.

Gene finally dropped to a walk, but Peanut wasn't done.  He was practically on top of him, and I swear that I saw him snap at that spotty butt a few times.  Of course, this didn't last and we were off again.

There's a hilly field before the final field that leads to the trail back to the barn, but as the crow flies the fastest way back is across this field instead of basically bypassing it and hugging the edge where the trail is.  So Gene stuck his nose to the left, to an uphill, and away he went.  Peanut did the same.  He stopped at the top, trotted/racked down, cantered up the next and trotted/racked down.  At times he was heading towards burrows and my steering wasn't what it should have been, but we managed.  Once we got to the edge of the field, Gene turned away from where we needed to go and started walking.  I convinced Rick to turn around, not to pass me, and with Peanut in the lead we walked around the perimeter of the field back to the original trail.  We had a short little trot/rack downhill, but that was all.

Gene got back into the lead for the last of the woody trails leading to the barn, and we were off again.  It's fun cantering willy-nilly up a rocky hill with a high dirt cliff falling off to your right.  Yes, lots of fun.  And it is equally fun as he tries trotting downhill, right towards a tree that he always tries to smash your knee against at just a walk.  Not to mention cantering towards the final, tight turn at the road when he's looking like he wants to smash through the undergrowth, go straight, and stampede out onto the pavement.

Well, we lived.  My out of shape horse is probably feeling it, but we lived and I stayed calm.  I learned that he can race off almost out of control, and I'm fine.

The sillies didn't even miss their dinner.  As soon as they got back they calmed down, and we kept riding them on around the farm to cool them down.  After we had untacked and started grooming they came out to feed.

Now, technicalities.  I took out the full shims in my saddle, and spent a lot of time centering before I got on.  The padding stayed centered, but the saddle did not.  I could feel that my left stirrup was too long, but I didn't think it was too bad until I dismounted and saw the difference in the stirrups.  I really do need to velcro.  The two parts of the saddle move independently of each other until I try to move everything back which is when they move as one.  I can't win!