Itchy Aftermath, and My Longest Solo Yet

The weather is finally turning gorgeous, and I am losing horse time due to my commitment at the shop where I'm an artisan.  Ah well, first world problems, eh?

Last Tuesday (I had the whole week off) I decided to take the Nut for a spin.  I wanted to head over the Very Scary Bridge - which doesn't faze Peanut but is Very Scary to me - which crosses over a road into the largest portion of the park.  From there, I was thinking of taking a road back to where there is a covered bridge, and then heading home.

Before the Very Scary Bridge, I dismounted.  I'm sorry, but I don't have the cajones to cross a bridge over a road when the railings don't even come up to my boots when I'm in the saddle.  All you see is the road below you and I do not trust the drivers.  When your own barn manager will honk at you while you cross, what hope is there for the general public?  Peanut doesn't give two figs about the bridge and in fact nuzzled at the back of a sign attached to the railings.  I'm ok crossing it with others, but right now not alone.

Once across, I mounted up again at the nearby parking area where they have a lovely mounting block and set out.  He was uncharacteristically nervous as we passed the two horse trailers that were parked there, but it was windy and probably smelled of odd horses.  Perhaps those same horses that passed us on the trail earlier that Peanut did wonderfully with.  One of the riders looked Peanut over and said, "is that a Walker?"  I affirmed and she said, "I thought so."  I was impressed, especially as we had pulled over to the side of the trail and were just standing there.  :)

But I digress.

We got past the parking area and headed over toward a road where we would head deeper into the park, out of the open, and away from home.  He was not having it.  Normally, he drops a shoulder and bolts sideways when he's being defiant.  I'm used to that.  It's not my favorite thing in the world but it doesn't faze me anymore.  But this?  This was new.  This time he was jumping up with his front legs and coming down 90 degrees from where he was... and then he would bolt sideways.  Usually with the sideways bolts I can wrestle him to where I want to go, but not this time and I did not know how far he would escalate.  When he wasn't hopping or bolting he was dancing, shaking his head and neck, and not giving me a moment of quiet.  Sick of it, I finally got him to stand.  After several moments of standing quietly, I dismounted.

At just about that same moment a horse and cart emerged from the wooded area of the road which was very closeby.  Peanut gave them the stink-eye.

Once they passed, I led him down that road.

The road held a couple of Fair Hill workers - one in a Gator who stopped and gave Peanut peppermints (before Peanut yanked the knob off of the stick shift) and one in... some odd thing... that Peanut had to go up to and touch because he wouldn't stop thinking it was a Nutivore.

We finally got to the end, went over a Not Scary But Loud Bridge over a river (stream?), and turned around.  He was not fond of the gravel footing of the road, so I decided to head up to a wooded trail that parallels it for our jaunt back.

And I do mean up.

He knew he was heading home and scurried up a long, steep hill with me doing my best to keep up.  He was happily shooting down the trail once it leveled out and I just kept an eye out for a place to mount.  After one failed attempt on questionable ground with an impatient horse, I finally got my act together later and swung up, exhausted.  At that point I was a passenger, not a rider, as I rested from our hard, fast trek through the woods.  I remember thinking to myself that if he tried to pull anything that I would have absolutely no ability to do anything but fall over.

So that went well (except for him knocking my knee into a tree), until we got to the Very Scary Bridge where I dismounted again.  I led him over, then walked him for a while until I found a suitable mounting spot, mounted, and rode back home.  He was in much better sorts once on his side of the road.

We had to have been out for a couple of hours.  The only time he bit at his girth was when I would shove some fingers under the billets to see if anything was odd, and he only did it once.  There was no swelling and no other obvious discomfort.  I did make a point of leaving the girth slightly looser than usual, but I had tried that before and he still bit at it.  I hope that it really was the fly spray that did it.

On Sunday we didn't have much time and I was debating what to do with the little bugger.  When I took him to the grooming area he was giving the area where there are goats and sheep beyond yon foliage and beside yon trail a hard stare, so I figured I would take him over there before doing anything else.  He has not been so upset about the critters since he watched the horses and riders pass them without anyone dying.

He was upset, but ok.  He would stop but then follow me and get a cookie when he was beside me.  At one point a family on bikes passed, he watched them (from the side of the trail where I shoved him), and suddenly he was back to his goofy self.  No more caring about the goats.  He seemed so happy to be on the trail that I took him back, groomed him until he was presentable, and we (Nut, me, Gene, and Rick) went on a short hike which the boys seemed to enjoy.

More than once we came across families out riding bikes, and in each case a small boy was in the lead who would stop his bike, call out "horses!" and wait.  In each case I told them it was ok and to come on by (mainly because we had shoved the horses off the trail and were waiting for them).  Once he started moving, the first father called to the boy to stop, not to ride past the horse.  I told him that I had said it was ok.  The second family mentioned to us that they were trying to teach the kids to stop for horses, and so I mentioned to the kids how our horses are fine with bikes but not all are.  Still, that is some responsible parenting/riding that I was glad to see.

Unlike the time I planted Peanut in the middle of a trail, stared down the bike racing toward me, and commanded him to stop his bike.  Peanut was a good sport as he also stared that bike down and was a nice roadblock.  There was already horse/bike drama going down behind us, you see....

But I digress.

All through the hike he didn't once stop to scratch himself mightily against a tree.  I would say my itchy little bugger isn't quite so itchy anymore.  :)