Just ride

This morning I got up before the sun to ride the mare before I had to go to work.

Early morning has always been my favorite time to ride...the world feels so new and fresh and full of promise. The horses are peppy and eager to go. When I was younger (high school age) I remember getting up early during the summer to get on my mare just as the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon. I loved, and still love, that quiet alone time, that softness of the world before it rubs the sleep from its eyes.

But as I was riding this morning I realized something was vastly different from when I rode in the morning as a teenager.

My reasons for riding had changed. I wasn't on Calypso purely for the joy of riding, exploring and being with her.

I was on her with a purpose: Get X done then work on Y.

And I started thinking (I know, scary stuff!). When was the last time I got on to ride just for the pure pleasure of riding? Nothing more, nothing less. When I get on now it's with some sort of training goal in mind: I'm going to accomplish this today with Gabe, or that today with Calypso.

And I ride until I achieve the goal and get off, content that I had achieved that goal, happy that I had ridden. I still get pleasure from riding but it's different than it was.

Have my reasons for riding changed over the years? I don't really think so. I get an indescribable joy, comfort and contentment when I ride. I relax and let the world go as soon as my foot hits the stirrup and all the tension and stress of my day melt away when my butt hits the saddle.

But the purpose has changed in ways I've never really considered. I get on to work my horse, get to that next level of training, accomplish a goal.

When I was 13, 14, 15 I got on with no real goal in mind...I just got on to ride and off I went. I didn't have any desire or need to work on perfecting a circle or fine-tuning a halt. We had stop, go and turn perfected and I saw no need to ever require anything more than that.

I just rode, over hills, across fields, out into no-man's land where it was just me, the horse and the Kansas prairie. I was content with just being one with my horse for however long we happened to be out. We'd trot, gallop, mosey along, pop over ditches and logs, gallop up an down hills, forge new paths, wade through creeks and sometimes get lost. I didn't worry about my hips being loose or my heels down...as long as I stayed on (because I typically rode bareback every where) there was nothing else to think about.

My little quarter horse mare, Sundancer, became the most broke, responsive, willing beast I have ever sat upon. Why? Because we went out and DID everything. I didn't get stuck on some goal about training her to trot better or getting her on the bit properly, we went out, we rode, we tackled tough terrain and just had fun. And the entire time, by doing nothing more than enjoying the ride, I was training her to be exactly the kind of horse I wanted without realizing I was doing it.

What changed over the years? How did I go from a rider who rode purely for the joy of being with her horse, to a rider who got into the saddle a specific goal in mind?

I can't even trail ride any more without throwing some kind of training goal into the mix...work on laterals, fine-tune the halt, get a really good walk.

What happened to JUST RIDING? I have no lofty expectations or goals of ever doing a lot of showing. Sure, I'd like to show again, it's fun. But I don't NEED to show.

I just want to ride. I love to ride, but somehow, somewhere along the way I have forgotten WHY I ride.

I need to rediscover that pure, simple joy that is horses.

Is it fall yet?

What I love most about summer: The heat.
What I hate most about summer: The heat.

I guess there's just no pleasing some people!

I look forward to every summer and the chance to ride every day if I feel like it. In my somewhat skewed memory, summers as a horse-crazy teen were dry and hot and windy — that hot, dusty summer smell mingling so perfectly with the scent of my mare's sweat sticky-slick on my shorts-clad legs and that delightful horse aroma enveloping me as we went wherever our imaginations would allow. The occasional dip in a nearby creek or swim across the river cooled our dusty skin. We dried quickly, that hot wind evaporating the water and the sweat and leaving us appropriately cooled in the process.

Heat has never bothered me.

But these summers in Illinois are different than those I grew up with in Kansas.

They are hot and disgusting: A sticky, wet, muggy, suffocating heat that leaves little energy or desire to do anything but sit around in the air conditioning and curse the summer. And that means very little energy to ride. The endless days of dangerous heat advisories haven't helped matters much as I pace inside and beg for a breeze, a dip in temperature, a cool fall morning.

There is no constant wind to dry the sweat. There is only sweat that soaks and drips and drenches and clothes that cling uncomfortably to every inch of covered skin. There is no relief, just relentless, brutal heat.

My horses come in from the pasture drenched in sweat and drooping from the tips of their ears to the ends of their tails. The horse flies have been absolutely unforgiving this summer and no amount or brand of fly spray deters them. Who wants to ride when the horse is already exhausted and miserable? Not me.

I just want to ride. I need to ride. I dream about riding. I rode Sunday but it was a short ride just to get on and do my soul good. It did a lot of good but I need more!

I hate Illinois summers. Hate. Them.

You see, the bitter cold I can deal with. As long as my face isn't getting frostbitten, I'm outside. The dry heat I can deal with. This boil-water-on-your-skin and suck the life out of you humidity? Not so much.

Please fall, arrive soon? I miss you much. I'm so totally over summer.

O'dark Thirty

Funny how early 5 a.m. seems to come. And how hard it is to get out of bed when the sun is barely peeking above the horizon. But, get out of bed I did to get into my breeches and boots and take the big guy out for a spin.

It was still a bit hot and humid out even at that early hour, but far less oppressive than waiting until evening. But it heated up FAST. By the time the sun was fully visible I could feel the temperature rising minute by minute and I was so glad I got up before the sun.

That horse is definitely an ex-racehorse. He loves his morning workouts and really listens better in the morning. But he also showed me exactly why he is an EX-racehorse.

What a lazy bones booger-head he was! Drag, drag, drag along. Shuffle those feet, amble the walk. Seriously. I thought I was riding a dead-broke, 30-year-old quarter horse or something. My legs got a serious workout just keeping him moving! And of course, I forgot to grab my dressage whip because I was in such a rush to get up and get riding before I had to leave for work.

All in all, it was a good ride. I squeezed him up into a trot and he offered a very nice canter instead, so I went with it and just let him go. I figured if he was gonna be a lazy-pants, I'd let him give me as much forward movement as he wanted to give! Such a glorious canter he has, too. Ground-eating, smooth, delicious and addictive.

I only worked him for just about 45 minutes. It was starting to get hot and I didn't want to push him too much. Our last 15 minutes or so was spent on lateral work and moving away from my leg as soon as I ask. No ifs, ands or buts about it. If he feels my leg tapping, he'd better ask how far and how fast before he asks why should I? Our little telephone pole/truck episode made me realize I really, really need to work his booty off on the lateral/move away from my leg stuff. I've let it slide for too long and now I need to get it done and get it done right before we do anything else.

The morning ride brought back some delightful memories. When I was in high school, living in Kansas, I'd get up at the butt-crack of dawn during the summer so I could ride before the heat became unbearable. Sometimes, I'd get up and ride before school too. A fabulous way to start the day!

Those were some of the best rides ever. I'd take my little mare, Sunny, out for a gallop. No endless circles or dressage or silly arena work for us. We'd run and jump anything in our path: Logs, ditches, downed trees, discarded railroad ties, tires, hay bales in the field. We jumped a little junked car before the weeds grew up around it and hid it from view. Sometimes bareback. Sometimes bareback with just a halter and leadrope. Sometimes we'd go down to the river for a swim. I wasn't SUPPOSED to, but I did any way. I cherish those memories and that wonderful little mare. She never asked why should I? She just did. Everything I asked, she never balked and we had some of the best times ever.

One day Gabe will get past the why should I? phase and we can start filling our own book full of delightful memories and experiences.

The most memorable

Most of my childhood memories involve horses or are centered around horse activities. I consider myself pretty danged lucky to have what a lot of horse-fanatic girls didn't: My own horses and friends who shared my passion.

There has never been a time in my life when horses weren't a part of it, one way or another.

I used horses as an excuse to skip out of high school with my best friend. They were her horses, and yes, they managed to get out of the pasture yet again and her parents were not horse people. No, she probably didn't REALLY need help catching them, but what better excuse to leave school on a breathtakingly beautiful spring day for some much-needed horse time? I'm pretty sure that happened more than once. In fact, I'm positive it did. No regrets.

During my junior year a group of us skipped an entire day of school to go riding. It was too nice out to sit inside and listen to teachers and it just kind of happened. I don't know who suggested it, but it was a fabulous idea.

It was probably the craziest, best, most memorable ride I ever had with my high school friends.

See, our friend Wayne was dying from leukemia. Little did we know he'd be dead less than two months after our day of stolen freedom. Little did we know that was really the last time he'd feel strong enough to do anything wild and crazy.

He wasn't a rider, but that didn't stop him from enjoying it. He doubled up with me, bareback, on one of the many ponies and horses owned by the family of one of our classmates. She didn't ask and we ALL knew how strict her parents were. Not only were we skipping school, we were stealing the horses and riding off the property.

We all knew if they found out there would be hell to pay. They found out, hell was paid and none of us regretted it.

About half of our group were riders...the other half, not so much. But we doubled up bareback anyway and headed across the fields blooming with tall native Kansas grasses and made a beeline to the creek. It was far too early in the season for swimming, but we didn't care. So what if the creek was still cold? We were skipping school to RIDE! It could not get any more perfect than that.

Our little group of horse girls spent summers in that creek with our equine partners...parking the ponies in the deep spots, guiding their noses to the thick grasses growing on the high bank and using them as mobile diving platforms while they stood and munched. Such wonderfully forgiving partners we had! Or, they were just typical ponies who wouldn't budge when presented with a tasty patch of grass.

We headed across the field, a couple of the horses moving out fast with the unexpected excitement in their otherwise boring day and so many kids laughing like nothing in the world mattered. The horse Wayne and I were on tossed in a little crow hop, probably expressing the same zest for life we were feeling that day, and he got dumped. He didn't go flying, just kind of slid off and landed on his knees, laughing the entire way down and still grinning as he stood back up and readied to jump back up behind me.

The spring sun shone off his bald head like a golden beacon and he had such an infectious laugh you couldn't help but laugh along. He was great about being able to laugh at himself, despite the very wrongness of someone so young and vital being so sick. He constantly picked fun at his own bald head. It was kind of hard to feel guilty about his sudden, unexpected dismount when he was laughing about it. And I laughed along and gave him my hand to help haul him back up.

He climbed back up and away we went, reveling in the day and celebrating life as only a teenage boy living under a death sentence could.

He was amazing. To this day thinking about him inspires me and all these years later, his memory makes me smile.

I think knowing him changed the whole group of us. A bunch of 16 and 17 year olds faced with the inevitable death of a friend and trying to deal with it the best way they knew: By skipping school and riding off into the prairie on a bunch of stolen horses.

Where has summer gone? I've ridden it away!

Time flies, doesn't it? I've been so busy riding and playing with my ponies that I put the blog on the back burner.

Our weather has been spectacularly amazing in every sense of the word. Cool and sunny and PERFECT for riding and you betcha I've taken advantage of every beautiful daylight moment as I can. All too soon I'll be complaining about the short days and icy conditions that keep my butt out of the saddle.

My husband, daughter and myself also started a fitness program at the beginning of August. We are walking/jogging two miles four days a week. This week we are bumping it up to five days a week and 2.5 miles. I need to lose weight and get into better shape if I am going to do Gabe any justice at all. He's a big, powerful ride and I need the fitness and strength to ride him to his fullest.

I took Gabe on his first "long" trail ride last weekend with my husband on Calypso acting as the "guard pony." We wandered up through the woods and into the neighbor's field where we startled a man sitting on a motorcycle hidden in the weeds. I think we startled him more than he startled the horses! I was pretty surprised to see him there and may have even squealed a bit before I said "OH MY GOD! You scared the crap out of me!" Gabe just glanced at him and kept on marching. He takes everything in stride. He marches along wonderfully on the trail, nice and forward but relaxed. His ears are flicking around and he's really paying attention to his surroundings, but he's not reacting at all, just watching. Excellent! We came across a part of the trail where a tree had partially fallen across the path. It's upper length was wedged in the high crook of a tree a good 12 feet up. There was no going around it or over it. We'd have to go under it. Calypso walked right under it without a second thought. Gabe, on the other hand, wasn't quite so sure about going beneath it. There was plenty of room, but it freaked him out. My wonderful husband jumped off Calypso and led Gabe under the tree...and he went right under. Good boy! We had one snort and startle when a rabbit dashed out of the tall grasses right in front of him, but definitely not any kind of spook to speak of. He's on his way to becoming an excellent trail horse...and hopefully and equally excellent fox hunter and eventer.

I think I may have fixed the head flinging issue simply by working him and ignoring it. I truly do think it was exuberance and youth more than anything else. He did it mostly at the beginning of the ride and always threw a bit of a hop in with the fling and squeal, very similar to what I've seen him do when he's trying to convince Chief or Calypso to play with him in the field.

Last night's ride involved two very, very half-hearted attempts at the fling and squeal in the first five minutes of the ride. I could feel him think about flinging and instead, he dropped his neck and gave a little squeal. As soon as he did it I turned him in a small circle and sent him forward. It was our best ride yet. As soon as he indulged his half-hearted head flings and one little obligatory teleportation spook at nothing in particular, I had his full attention for the rest of the half hour ride.

We now have turns that are closer to power steering than driving a train. I discovered less rein is best with getting a good turn and bend from him. I changed up his bit AGAIN and I think I found a good match. He's now in a Myler wide barrel loose ring comfort snaffle and he LOVES it. The overly exaggerated playing with the bit, grinding and chewing is gone. He still chews and reaches, but softly, with plenty of drool and foam to go along with it. And the turns are so much better in this bit.

We have transitions (up and down) that are immediate and mostly hot off my leg. We do have the occasional "I don't WANT to and you can't make me," tantrum, but those are over pretty quickly because I continue to insist, quietly and consistently, that he give me just ONE step of the requested action. Our downward transitions require NO rein! Yay! This was one of my ultimate goals...to have a horse respond entirely off my seat and legs. We'll see if that transfers to longer, faster trail rides and cross country gallops. :D

We now have so-so leg yields, pretty good turns on the forehand and are learning, step by step, turns on the haunches. Once the turn on the haunches tightens up as he gains the muscle and the understanding for it, we'll move to walk pirouettes. The rein backs are getting better. I really have to think about those because I've always ridden horses that required a bit of backward movement with the hands to get a reverse so I automatically pull backwards. I'm fighting that tendency in myself every single time! I don't want that in Gabe. He needs to respond just to the shift in my weight, a tap with my legs and unmoving hands. So far, he's getting it. Slowly. But getting it, and that's all that matters!

That's the summer in a nutshell!

And for your viewing pleasure, my 8-year-old daughter, Kayleigh, in her lesson this week: Cantering is the BOMB!

My horsey life

50 Fun Questions
1. How old were you when you first started riding? Before kindergarten.

2. First horse ridden: My mom's horse Dusty. I don't really know that sitting on him with her counts as "riding," but he's the first I was on.

3. First horse trotted on: Probably Sonny.

4. First horse cantered on: Blaze. Definitely. I don't know that that pony did much BUT canter!

5. First horse fallen off of: Blaze. Many, many times.

6. Most recent horse fallen off of: Calypso, two weeks ago. Who knew she could teleport sideways while spinning to run the other way from a relaxed walk?

7. Most terrifying fall: The one off Blaze when I broke my arm. I never imagined that Army guys popping out of the top of a tank could be so scary to a pony!

8. First horse jumped with: Blaze.

9. First horse who ran away with you: Blaze. (I'm sensing a trend here!)

10. First horse that scared the crap out of you: The mustang I broke for a friend. He was a true prey animal and reacted much differently than domestic horses to things. I think he would have taken my head off more than once if I wasn't fast enough to get out of his way.

11. First horse shown: Blaze, I think. I might have ridden Sonny in a walk/trot class, but I don't recall.

12. First horse to win a class with: Blaze. We beat out all the experienced riders on well-broke horses in an advanced trail class. We were the BOMB!

13. Do you/have you taken lessons: Yes, and I'll keep taking them for as long as I can get on a horse.

14. First horse you ever rode bareback: Blaze. We didn't have a saddle for her right away so I spent most of my time bareback. Even after my mom picked up a kid's western saddle, I still chose bareback over saddle.

15. First horse trail ridden with: Blaze.

16. Current Barn Name: Well, my farm's name is Bramblewood Acres. Since my horses are at home, I guess that's my barn name, too!

17. Do you ride English or Western: Both.

18. First horse to place at a show with: Blaze

19. Ever been to horse camp: Nope. I've helped run a horse camp, but was never a participant.

20. Ever been to a riding clinic: Yup, both as an auditor and a participant. I love clinics.

21. Ridden sidesaddle: Nope. No desire to, either.

22. First horse leased: Never leased, always owned. Well, I did a part-board lease on a TB named Royal Conclusion. I part-boarded him for a summer.

23. Last horse leased: Royal Conclusion.

24. Highest ribbon in a show: Grand Champion in a halter class.

25. Ever been to an “A” rated show?: Yes

26. Ever competed in pony games/relay races: Yes.

27. Ever fallen off at a show: Yes.

28. Do you ride Hunters/Jumpers: Yes. But I've gravitated away from hunters towards jumpers and eventers. They have more fun.

29. Have you ever barrel raced: Yup!

30. Have you ever done pole bending: Yup!

31. Favorite gait: Galloping!

32. Ever cantered bareback: Many, many times.

33. Have you ever done dressage: Yes. I love dressage. The most incredible experience I ever had was on a schoolmaster named Early Morning. Holy mackerel. That's the dressage I strive for.

34. Have you ever evented: Yes. Very low level. Like, green bean level.

35. Have you ever mucked a stall: A billion and one times.

36. Ever been bucked off: Bucked off? Nope. Spooked off? Yup.

37. Ever been on a horse that reared: Yes. I made my mom SO angry when I taught her hunter, Mike, how to rear on command. I was young and dumb.

38. Horses or ponies: Thoroughbreds!

39. Do you wear a helmet: I have been lately, especially when I ride Gabe. I grew up only having to wear a helmet at shows, but I've gotten better. My daughter reminds me to put it on every time I ride now...and when you have kids to stay alive and kicking for, you tend to be a bit safer.

40. What’s the highest you’ve jumped: 3'6"

41. Have you ever ridden at night: Oh yes! Midnight trail rides under a full moon are amazing!

42. Do you watch horsey television shows: Yes, RFD-Tv shows and that new series "Jockeys."

43. Have you ever been seriously hurt/injured from a fall: Yes. A few times.

44. Most falls in one lesson: I've never fallen off during a lesson.

45. Do you ride in an arena/ring: Kind of. I have a flat pasture area we ride in, but its grass, not sand, and it's not enclosed. But I have the corners and sides marked with cones.

46. Have you ever been trampled by a horse: No. Stomped on, kicked, bit, dragged and bloodied, but never trampled.

47. Have you ever been bitten: Oh yes. One horse I worked around, Sam, went out of his way to bite. You couldn't enter his stall without a crop in hand.

48. Ever had your foot stepped on by a horse: I've had my toes bloodied and broken by horse hooves. My favorite was the jumper, Smoke and Mirrors, who used to aim for my foot when he had the studs in his shoes. FUN!

49. Favorite riding moment: There are so many. My most recent favorite moment was trail riding in the Sierras with my mom, daughter and sister. Oh, what wonderful memories!

50. Most fun horse you’ve ridden: Definitely Star. She was such a character and could be quite flaky, but she always gave her all when It's too early to tell, but I think Gabe may turn out to be pretty danged fun, too.

Remembering Blaze

When I was a kid we almost always had snow for Christmas. Not like here, where we usually have mud or ice.

We had snow nearly all winter long. Deep snow. The kind of deep, cold snow you can only get in Kansas. The kind that drifts and packs well. I remember spending a good portion of my Christmas break with my little brown pony, Blaze.

That little Shetland-cross became my new best friend when I was in third grade and she stayed with my family until my senior year. I had long outgrown her and she had been standing around doing nothing and really missing the daily loving she had grown used to over the years. So, my mom found her a home with a family and another horse-crazy kid to teach some life-long lessons to.
I know there are TONS more pictures of Blaze out there, but my mom has them. This is one of my favorites and displayed on my wall. Any guesses where she got her oh so original name? Please excuse the quality..it's a photo of a photo. I don't have a scanner.

Blaze was just as crazy as me, maybe a bit more. She wasn't really well-broke when I got her, but that pony really taught me how to ride. It's probably a good thing I was absolutely fearless or I would have never enjoyed her as much as I did. She taught me how to dismount at a full gallop and cling to a runaway pony cart. She taught me patience by staying just out of reach in the pasture when I tried to catch her and she decided she didn't really want to be caught. She taught me humility when she dumped me in mud puddles out on the trail and left me to walk back to the barn. Or swam out to the middle of Breakneck Lake and left me standing on shore, waiting for her to be done with her little swim and allow me to catch her. She taught me how to think quickly about all possible outcomes when she ran away with me and no amount of pulling or yelling at her would engage the brakes. I learned how to duck, fast, when she aimed straight for the lowest branch. She could go English, Western, bareback, Indian-style (you know, just a loop of rope around her bottom jaw) and could drive.

We went to western shows, English shows, fox-hunted, went trail riding, went swimming, went driving and jumped every obstacle imaginable on the old cavalry training field at Ft. Riley.

During the winter we'd trail ride in the snow bareback. When the snow was deep and slick enough enough and my sister willing enough, I'd put the western saddle on that rotund little pony, find a really long rope and tie the disk sled to the saddle. I was the driver in the saddle, my sister, the sucker on the sled. My goal was to whip her right off that sled with crazy fast riding, hairpin turns, spins and leaps over ditches.

You'd think that after a few winters of such "sleigh rides" my sister would get a clue and refuse to be the sucker on the sled. Or maybe I was just a bit intimidating and coerced her into going sledding with me.

She was the driver in the saddle a few times, but her style of driving was far too tame for me so I'd try to take over the reins. Blaze could drive and of course I tried driving her while sitting on the sled. Did I mention she could become a runaway pony in seconds? Talk a ride that would take the skin right off your teeth!

I don't know how my mother survived my pony years. If it was conceivable, I would try it, no matter how hair-brained or insane it might be. And back then helmets were for shows only. Heck, during the summer, riding in a pair of shoes was pushing it. Bareback in short shorts and a tube top, barefoot, with just a thin rope looped around Blaze's jaw was how I spent the summer.

She taught me how to ride fearlessly and with passion. Her intolerance for bad riding taught me to be a thinking rider with compassion for my partner. She was the foundation of my passion and love for all things equine.