Gene was showing a bit of a sore back which, considering that he took a pounding during the lessons on Saturday, wasn't too surprising. Nevertheless, he won a morning of grazing. Peanut had no such maladies, so I saddled him up with a different saddle pad (quilted square dressage pad with wither shaping) and we went out. Our fourth solo ride.
All of the trails were cleared. In our journey we travelled most of the trails that Anne and I had hiked when looking at the aftermath, and all of the downed trees had been tended to. Even the active wasp nest that had fallen onto the trail was gone without a trace.
At one point the personality of those clearing the trails came out, and I think I let out something like "squee!" when I saw it. The trunk of a fallen tree had been cleared off of the trail
And the bits left over were not far away.
What an adorable find! Thank you anonymous Fair Hill do-gooder!
Peanut was more agreeable on this ride. He still wanted to turn back at every opportunity, but wasn't as adamant about it as on past rides. We also faced a test that we had been dreading: encountering riders on trail. Coming out of the trail head into the first meadow, two horses were approaching us. At this point there was a V mowed in the grass, so I took the other trail all the while worrying that Peanut would insist on spinning and joining them, or else freaking out when they went out of view. After the other riders and I said hi and I was warned that there were a ton of bikers on the trail (I actually didn't see another living soul for the rest of the ride), we went off in our respective directions. I could feel a little uncertainty in Peanut, but he listened and we were able to easily continue on. He had a few faltering steps, but nothing more.
We had an even bigger test of trust waiting for us ahead.
As we were heading more or less back to the barn (I meandered to keep Peanut guessing and he did great!), shortly after passing the table and chairs, I decided to turn into a meadow that he loves to graze in. We travelled down the wide, wooded path leading to the sunlit fields when it came into view: a stack of large square bales near the tree line about 50 yards out into the field. The little marbles in Peanut's head began to boogey and shake, and slowly they dropped from his ears. He went on alert, spun, and wanted to retreat. I caught him, turned him back, and asked him to move forward.
Thus commenced a dance that lasted I don't know how long. He would take a few steps forward, spin, and retreat. I would turn him back, ask for more steps, sometimes get them, sometimes not. We would stand facing the scary scary Bales of Death as I stroked his neck and cooed at him, and sometimes we stood facing away from them as I did the same. I found that he always spun to the left, and I had to continue turning him to the left in order to get him to turn around. There was no way that I could turn him right. My attempts to do so led to a raised, thrashing head. Ah well, left isn't so bad, is it?
I was able to stay calm - a HUGE achievement that was many years in coming - and he never completely lost it. At one point, while we were resting and facing away from the Bales of Death he stilled and let out a sigh, and I knew we'd have it licked. A few more spins, a few more hard won steps forward, and we were able to carefully walk up to the edge of the woods and then take a detour into a neighboring field; I was thinking of going there in the first place anyway.
I was so proud!!! We did it! Granted, we didn't go up to the bales and touch them, but I thought what we achieved was enough of a testament to our growing relationship that I was willing to let it go.
As a reward, he got to have quite a graze in the meadow. He didn't want to stay in the mowed trail at the perimeter, no, he wanted to wade out in the knee-high plants for a bit of a nosh. No problem. He earned it.
I had relaxed and was just hanging out at one point when he shot forward. I ended up almost with my shoulders on his croup and had lost a stirrup entirely. With a pull on the reins he stopped, I was able to get myself together, and we went on with things.
When we got to the edge of the field, there was a turn for home on one side and a turn away from home, completely out into the open, on the other side. On a whim I wanted to see what he would do, so I turned him away from home. He went without a protest and we passed into a completely open area.
He kept trying to eat eat eat (which is all he did, it seems - leaves and fallen branches in the woods and grass in the open) and wouldn't stay on the trail. So, my point of return kept retreating into the distance as I wanted a pony who was paying attention to me before turning around. Might I add that there were more stacks of those huge square bales around us? And I might also mention that he didn't give a damn? Well there were and he didn't. So, we eventually reached my turn around point, did just that, and headed for home.
What a fabulous boy!
As we were nearing the end of the trailhead, we saw a figure walking towards us. Turns out that Rick had put Gene away and had decided to come looking for us. So, we had company on the last bit of trail.
Soon after untacking him Kate showed up, and our boys got a trim. Peanut's feet are looking nice, all things considered, and he has very tight white lines in the rears. He did have a bloody spot at the very, very back of his frog, kinda where it mixes in with the heel bulb, but he wasn't reactive to it.
He then got his scratches treated (yeah, the stuff works but it keeps moving outside of the treatment areas), got a bit of a graze, a roll, and got to go home.
By this time Anne-Marie had arrived, Mona got a trim, and we decided that she would head out on Mona as I walked alongside. This was the first time Mona would ride out on trails without another horse.
I had to do the carrot-in-front-of-the-nose trick to get her across the road and onto trail, but with cookies, and then for a while held a cookie behind my back as I walked. She would get nervous, get a case of the looky-loos, and then I would feel lips searching in my palm for a treat.
It started raining while we were out, another first for Mona. She got nervous but stayed controllable.
We kept it short due to the rain and circumstances, but at the end I dropped far behind and they rode out alone quite nicely. Another trial of trust, and another success. :)
By that time it was about 6 or so, and I was a very tired Sara.
Ride stats:
My ride:
Total Distance: 4.47 miles
Total Time: 1:30:31
Moving Time: 59:22
Max Speed: 7.71 mph
Average Speed: 2.97 mph
Average Moving Speed: 4.52 mph
Min Elevation: 251 feet
Max Elevation: 413 feet
Elevation Gain: 1024 feet
Min Grade: -2.4%
Max Grade: -1.6%
Mona's ride, but measuring my walk:
Total Distance: 2.26 miles
Total Time: 48:14
Moving Time: 32:50
Max Speed: 4.72 mph
Average Speed: 2.81 mph
Average Moving Speed: 4.12 mph
Min Elevation: 254 feet
Max Elevation: 403 feet
Elevation Gain: 765 feet
3 comments:
Hahahhaa your horse is scared of food! ;) Did you make fun of him for it? Cause I totally would've! Going away from other horses never gets easier, at least it hasn't for me yet. Dixie is just starting to get over the overwhelming urge to freeze and watch the oncoming horses approach, and there's usually a bit of hollering to get her to move on past them.
I love the little sitting (mounting!) stumps. What a good day with horses!
Well, to give Peanut some credit, those bales could have looked like a massive bear (about three times normal size) crouched and waiting to gobble up a passing horse. It was a big, looming shape that had no business being there.
But yes, afraid of food. When they create those bales (they have to be about 4' high by 8' wide) they scare all of the horses that aren't used to them, even before they stack them. Also, they leave them out to fester so they start to stink. Bleh.
I never thought of them as mounting stumps! Fabulous!
Peanut needs to start a campaign for friendlier-looking hay bales. But good that it wasn't an all-out freak-out.
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