First Trail Ride - or the story of my confidence crisis

The time between horses is interesting. Motivation shifts, you sleep in on weekends. Yah, you can ride other folks horses, but really, you are just waiting for your horse. And yes there is some weight gain.

And then the new horse arrives. It’s fun, you focus on him settling in, putting weight on him. Moving into the big paddock, finding a saddle that fits, getting along with the other horse. Going on nice walks, hand walks.. in the stinking heat. Oh it's real nice. 

We walked up that canyon. Pierre enjoyed playing with the algae.
I wanted to swim in the water trough. 

And then people start saying, 

“Wow, he’s just a baby. Is he under saddle yet?” or 

“When are you going to ride him? Don’t wait too long.” Yep.

And your mind plays tricks on you. When you are not used to riding green horses (at least not as someone in middle age) and you bought a four-year old sight unseen, your mind creates stories of all sorts of horrific scenarios. Involving broken bones, blood, concussions. You get the picture.

I was having a confidence crisis.

So one day, you put on the saddle. Go into the round pen, hop on and let him walk around. He’s an endurance horse, doesn’t really know what to do in a round pen. So he walks really slowly. He mouths the snaffle bit, you walk around a little. This borrowed saddle is too small for you. Way too small. It feels like if the horse did anything other than walk quietly forward you would eat dirt. So you hop off. Good, a successful first ride. If you’d count it as a first ride.

Then you borrow a nice western saddle. Made for a narrow Arabian. It fits the horse well. You decide you are going to ride for one hour in the big arena. So you tack up, walk over there and get on. The saddle at least is perfect, for you and the horse. The sand is a bit thick. And both horse and rider are bored in the arena. But you pick up the energy. Decide on the plan. Practice the one rain stop. Disengaging the hind end. Doing some circles. Then another rider comes in, trots across the arena. And Hello, a couple bucks. Nothing major it’s not a bronc ride. But you smile and think “Ok, now we’re seeing something.” So we walk off again,, and a couple more bucks. One rein stop. The stories in the mind start to whip into a frenzy. Ok I should be pushing him. Making him move, showing him that if he bucks he’ll have to work. But he’s green, I’m unsure of myself. What if he rears? Flips over? But he’s such a calm guy. His mind is not like that at all. But you never know, right?

So we had some conversations in the round pen. He pushed into pressure a bit, ok gonna work on that. It got better.

So that was where I was at with Pierre. He'd been here about six weeks. We’d several miles of hand walks, exploring some of the flatter trails in the 90 degree heat. And I was ready to ride. I'm not in any hurry, we don't need to be ready for an endurance ride. I'm going to let him finish growing, let us get to know each other. And at some point in the next two years we will kick it up a notch. But for now, no rush. But I do want to ride him of course. 

I was having a confidence crisis. The horse had done nothing wrong. But I was just unsure of myself. I needed to see him pushed. Remember I bought him sight unseen, yes from a trusted breeder but still, I had never seen him under saddle. So I needed help. It can be hard to ask for help. Especially for us strong female types. I’m lucky I have several skilled horsewomen as friends and trainers. So I contact a trainer, she’s a few hours away, I can send him there. There is the cost involved, but he’s far away. I want to see what he does. My gut is telling me I just need to see what he does when he is pushed…

So I ask another friend to come ride him. Yes, I just get over the silly idea that I will be the only one to ride him once I own him.  So my fabulous friend comes down. Watches me in the round pen with him. And hops on. They walk, trot, canter…

We move into the big arena. And quickly realize the commands from the bit are unclear for him. So we switch to the rope halter. That is better. He moves around. And I see him get pushed up into a canter.  He seems to be a bit gate sour. Maybe longing for the trail? Or dinner? But we note he offers a buck, or a halt at the gate and drifts that way. 

I can tell he’s got a nice trot and canter. I smile.

He offers a little buck, she stops him to ensure she’s got control of him with the rope halter. Then moves him up again… making him work.

We need some more work on circles, bending, steering with the hind end.

My friend riding him. We are good to go. The confidence I got from
just watching her ride was just what I needed.

So then I arrange for Pierre to get ponied out on the trail with another trusted friend on his mounted posse/search and rescue horse. He’d ponied my other horse too.

I woke up that morning and as they say "Cowgirl'd up." I decided to saddle him up and ride him out on the trail instead of him being ponied. He'll get ponied on other days, I gotta get over this confidence issue, and today is the day. He’s got a great mind, he’s not crazy. 

Just get on the flipping horse Kim!

It’s a gorgeous cloudy early Sunday morning. The cow barn is quiet. I arrive before the morning feeding. I love this time of day, and it takes a horse to get me up this early.

I saddle him up. Let him eat his breakfast from the hay bag. Wait for my friends and we head out. He’s great. I start smiling and I don't think I stopped smiling for an hour. He’s still learning how to carry a rider down hill so I get off and walk down the first steep downhill, and then have to hold him back a bit on the next down hill spots as he wants to dash down them when I'm on his back… but I can tell the trail is where he wants to be.

Pierre and Me on the trail. 

He doesn’t do a thing wrong the whole ride – just a short one hour loop – but he is sweating.  

What is it they say about most car accidents happen within a mile of your home? I think they say something similar about riding, cause you are at ease, maybe not paying attention…

At the end with the barn in sight he spooks at a cow. Just a few steps of a sideways trot. And he turns right back to face the cow of his own accord. I’m smiling. It’s the stuff I want to see. I want to see all he can dish out. And learn that I can handle it. We are gonna get along just fine Pierre. Better than fine as they say.

My friend is going to ride him in a lesson this week, and I’ll do the next one. I learn a lot by watching other people figure stuff out. And seeing how he responds builds my confidence.

 But we are on a good trail now. The images in my mind are of the open trails and us trekking along.  I wake up the next day with a smile, ready for the next ride.

First Day Home

Whew he made it. Someday I will write the story of the twists and turns of his trip here, but for now focusing on him being home.

He needs some "groceries", a bit typical after the long haul. So that is our focus. And transitioning to different feed. But I love him already. We got a quiet moment alone when I first saw him, and he came right up to me, head in my chest. Sigh.

Today we will have a little round pen play to make sure we have good boundaries , and he'll get some good turn out time in the BIG pasture - with his hay bag full and water, while I sit nearby and read and write. Tomorrow I plan on a very short, ten minute ride in the big sandy arena, and we have some visitors or "Welcome Committee" coming tomorrow too.

A few details: We had short training session with fly spray. It all went well. And today I'll find out how he feels about a fly mask - the flies on the eyes are terrible right now and SWAT just ain't cutting it.

He is eating up all I put in front of him, and we are on 2 hand fulls of 3Way or Alfalfa along with his "all you can eat" timothy and Alfalfa pellets.

If you click on a photo you can see it BIG.

You wanna spray what? And where? 

Look at the crazy style here, Goofy Californians. I won't have to wear that stuff will I?

Munching away. Note the towel in the background - my nap spot. 

Short walk in the round pen. 

Cheers.

Emptying My Cup

First Leg

I know Pierre has made the first leg of the journey, and as I write I’m not sure whether he is still waiting in a box stall in Minot, ND or is on the trailer starting the 1700 mile journey to Santa Paula, CA. I will know soon.

These final days of waiting create a wonderful space.

In the space between horses I have mourned and said goodbye to Ozzie. I have cleaned, inspected and prepped my tack and supplies. The small tack room I have created in my garage has some lovely timothy hay – Oh there is nothing quite as delicious as the spring, green smell of good Timothy hay – a bag of alfalfa pellets, and other stuff waiting to be moved to the new tack room where I board.

As the days neared for Pierre to begin his journey from Canada to California I got a gentle reminder from an incredible horseman, who just happens to be a woman. She reminded me that this new horse is an individual. Is not Ozzie. And I must be wary of comparing him to all that Ozzie was to me - what an important reminder, and perfectly timed.

And while reading a book just now, a thought shot into my head.

I was placing all my hopes, all my dreams on Pierre - before I had even laid eyes on him. He is on his way to me. Being handed over from the breeder, to a barn, to a hauler, then to me.

And here I was imagining all the things we would learn together, all the miles of the trails we would explore. Wow.  What a lot of pressure I was placing on him. He had a lot to live up to. For a four year old horse.

I need to empty my cup.

My cup was so full it was overflowing with ideas, thoughts, things I think I know, things to learn, to do – there were moments where I would center myself, and remind myself of the unknown aspect of what was to come – but then the excitement again would kick in… that is ok.

A new horse is coming. I can be excited.

But then and there I dumped my cup out. I want an empty cup when I look upon Pierre for the first time. No expectations. Just curiosity.

Openness and space.

For whatever comes.

Open heart.

Open mind.

Hands open and soft.

Saying Goodbye to Ozzie

As unbelievable as it may seem, I had to say goodbye to Ozzie.

Isn’t it wild this ride these amazing creatures take us on? But even when the story reaches an unhappy turn, I wouldn’t trade it for the world. The richness such a loss brings creates a feeling of being in the world in a unique way. It is the stickiness of the rich, sweet, dripping honey that is this life we live. Especially, I think, when we share it with horses.

I call this photo TRUE OZZIE. He was not
flashy. He was beautiful. He loved to eat.
and in the winter months he was fuzzy.

Last Thursday morning Ozzie coliced. For those of you non-horse folks, colic is a sort of catch all name for any number of stomach and gut problems. They can range from a small impaction that will usually clear in a few days with some basic treatment all the way to a twist in the intestine, or sort of “hernia” of the small intestine through a tear in a ligament. This is what Ozzie had.

He was transported to the equine hospital around 9:30 am. He looked all right when we got there. The veterinarian found a large impaction in the large intestine. But she expected it to clear, maybe two to three days.

photo by Elizabeth Spruill

When she called me at 4:00 she was very surprised by the turn of events. He was in tremendous pain, and he should not have been in that much pain for the type of impaction he had. I approved a couple tests. She called me back shortly to tell me the bad news. The tests indicated tissue damage in the small intestine, surgery was recommended.

When I decided to buy a horse, over a year ago, I had to be willing to accept that we could not afford such a surgery. Colic is fairly common. The other option was euthanasia. 

A wise friend had me bring my husband (he had not been super enthusiastic about my horse adventures so it had not crossed my mind to have him come), because I would need a ride home “after” she said. Of course my husband needed to come.

It was very surreal. I cried the whole way there. Folks who know me, know I’m pretty private about my feelings, and cry rarely around other folks. My husband saw my distress openly and unabashed. He cried with me at the hospital as I said goodbye to this sweet horse. (The next day we learned from the necropsy about the tear in a ligament between his stomach and spleen and the nine feet of small intestine that passed through that tear. It is unlikely that he would have survived surgery)

Photo by Elizabeth Spruill (cropped by me)

Ozzie was not perfect, but he was perfect for me. I know in the horse world many of us feel that way. We could handle each other. He took good care of me on the trail. And taught me so much.

He taught me to trust my gut, how to rehab a horse with a radial fracture, how to doctor a necrotic spider bite, and care for a leg stuck through a fence, twice. No three times. Sigh. He taught me about round pen work. He taught me I can ride out some pretty good bucks. He gave me back my confidence in the saddle. He taught me I can make my dreams come true.

He taught me to treasure and feel grateful for every moment with him, and on his back. Last year when he fractured his leg, I hand walked him for 7 months. Rode him at a walk for 30 days. After that I enjoyed every second on his back. And I felt a joy whenever I was with him. Working him, brushing him. Even when he was being "pushy." My tip for all horse owners: treasure every moment. Even if you aren't riding, treasure it. Notice the blessing it is. And if you think you would enjoy having gorgeous photos of you with your horse, get them today. (The pics shown in this post were taken by  photographer Elizabeth Spruill who needed to take some shots of a horse a month or so ago. I volunteered and I did not see the photos until the Sunday after Ozzie was gone. What a treasure.)

He revealed to me the type of life I want to live. I want to be in big open spaces, go down miles and miles of trails. I want to explore parts of this land that are only accessible by horseback (or maybe on foot by some crazy backpacker types). I want to share my life with a horse. Always.

He taught my husband how important horses are to me. My husband wants to come look at horses with me as I begin to look for my next partner.

Photo by Elizabeth Spruill

There was a song I would sing when Ozzie and I were alone on the trail. It is a native American (I don’t know which nation) “welcome” song I learned at a doula (Google it) training at Ghost Ranch in New Mexico several years ago. The main purpose of singing the song was to alert any wild animals we were coming down the trail. There are mountain lion and bear where we boarded. But the great effect of the song was that it made me breathe. I have a bad habit of holding my breath when I ride. Obviously not a good thing when you are going to be in the saddle for several hours. The song made me breathe, relaxed me, and in relaxing me, relaxed Ozzie.

I sang it while I said goodbye. I let my tears flow and be absorbed into the earth, the soil. A native American story tells about how the earth mother is meant to carry our sorrow. We are not meant to carry it for long, we are meant to shed our tears, to let them flow down to her so that we can continue on our life journey free of the burden of our tears. She accepted a lot of my tears over several days, and surely will continue to take them.

My close friends come to know I am a very visual person, and I enjoy watching movies and great shows. As we drove home that night I held some of his tail hair, and smelled it. A scene from a movie popped into my head. Stick with me, it will seem like a divergence, because the movie does not have ONE horse in it.

Have you seen Top Gun? The fighter pilot movie with Tom Cruise from the 80’s? Well, Ozzie is my Goose. For those of you from another planet, who have missed that movie (when Cruise was young and fresh) Goose was Cruise’s characters friend who flew with him. Goose died after an accident in which Cruise’s character, called Maverick, was piloting the plane. The scene I recalled was after that, the flight instructor talking about Maverick, he said, “Get him up flying again, and soon.”

I need to get up flying again, and soon.

Ozzie and I FLYING last month at Bar H 50 mile endurance ride.
PHoto by Lynne Glazer

Back on the trail at Bar H

Bar H

The ride ended as it had begun, with the sun hitting me hard in the face. But now, I was literally riding into the sunset. We had been out on the trail for eleven hours, minus one for the lunch hour hold. Now six o’clock in the evening, we were coming in on the same road we had left on at seven that morning.

Me the day before the ride, prepping for our preride.

I knew we were going to complete. Ozzie looked great all day. It was the final mile and we were hand walking in. No need to rush. Walking helps the horse cool down, and helps the rider come down too. I had loosened the cinch, taken the bit out of his mouth, and we were trekking along, at a strong walking pace.

I felt the exhale push its way up my throat and release into the air with a gasp. A sob of joy. A few streams of tears fell down my cheeks and I was thankful my riding partner Brooke and her horse Spirit had dropped back a bit. I had the privacy to let the reins loose on my emotions a bit. A year before riding on the trail with Brooke I told her that one day I’d have a good joyful cry with my horse. This was it.

After a year off following our first 50 (Eastern Mojave 2014) together – my first endurance ride and Ozzie’s first 50 – because of a radial fracture I had some emotion to let go of. Once I knew his leg would heal I dove into the hand walking and watching his leg. But now, nearly a full year later we had come back to being fit to complete a 50, and not just any 50, but a tough, hot, rocky, canyon-climbing 50.

The night before the ride I slept very little. I had parked my van so I could open up the back and literally just open my eyes to see Ozzie. At the ride a year ago he got loose in the middle of the night (lead rope unclipped from halter) and got kicked, he was not getting loose this time. So I was opening my eyes at every sound. I did see the gorgeous stars, and hear the coyotes hunting a few times. But for reference, being hyper vigilant has a downside - lack of sleep. 

Ozzie enjoying being able to eat constantly the day before
the ride

The morning went smoothly, it was calm mellow start. Only the long horn cattle gave Ozzie pause. He is used to the black Angus (I think) cows where he lives, but those long horns surely looked alien.

Much of the day was a blur. In the way a mother will quickly forget the details of giving birth – natures insurance that she will want to do it again – a lot of the ride quickly faded from memory. One thing that remains clear is our riding team of two was well matched. Spirit and Ozzie (from the same breeder in Canada – Sturgeon Creek Arabians and related through the Crabbat/Polish/Russian Stallion Pyatigorsk – and both trained for endurance by Charlene Lewis) Our four being team went well down the trail together. Brooke has become my un-official mentor on my newbie journey into endurance. We haven't actually talked about it, it just sort of fell into place that way. I'm a pretty do it myself sort of learner, I need to do it to learn it properly, need to feel it, integrate into my muscle memory. So having a casual mentor relationship works well. Someone to bounce ideas off of, remind me of certain things, and gently point things out. But mostly to keep me on pace on the trail. Thank you Brooke! 

I remember I liked the first 25-mile loop best. At the pre-ride meeting, the night before the ride, we decided that I would be the navigator and Brooke would keep us on pace. I’m pretty good at directions and map reading and I know nothing about staying on pace in a ride. This worked out perfectly. I earned my keep when I caught a sharp left turn in the trail.  We trekked along, Brooke telling me when we needed to move out when Ozzie and I were in front and lolly gagging a bit. I did find I had to push through my comfort zone a bit in some single-track trails weaving among large rocks and through trees. But this horse took it all in stride.

The fabulous shot of me and Ozzie in the morning, by Lynne Glazer.
This was fairly early in the ride, hence the great morning light. And it was
before the 15 mile pulse and go vet check. We are well warmed up at this point

We had one little episode where the group of riders behind me got a great show. We were trotting through a single track trail winding between some large rocks, and my stirrup scrapped against a rock. It might a loud snap sound and Ozzie spooked. I screamed. Sidebar comment - I have to remind folks I'm riding with that I'm a vocal rider. Meaning that when spooks happen I scream or sometimes loudly laugh. BUT if I'm making noise it means I'm ok. It's when I'm really quiet that the 'you know what' is hitting the fan and I'm really having to focus. So when Ozzie spooked he squirted forward, I wasn't quite prepared and I dropped my reins. Somehow I guided him to the side, off trail (I did not want to run into Spirit or foul up any of the riders behind us), but among the rocks. One of the riders ahead of us called back "Is everything OK back there?"I shouted back "Yes, we are all good." Just seconds later I got Ozzie stopped, standing among the rocks. And we calmly rejoined the line up on the trail. One rider behind us was chuckling and commented on the good show. And we were off once again. 

There was great footing, light sand, nice climbs, flat spots to move out and Ozzie kept trying to get me to let him out… out into his big trot. On this ride I learned that both Ozzie and I like being in front on single track trails. Not just because, well being in front is fun, but I have more confidence to let him out a bit since I can see the trail. 

 

Just Ozzie eating more.

There was a pulse and go vet check at 15 miles. One of the veterinarians there was the same vet who treated Ozzie at the ride a year ago when he got kicked. She remembered us, and was so happy to see him looking so good. And when we trotted out for her, she smiled big and confirmed she saw no indication of any injury.

We finished that 25-mile loop a little after noon, and quickly got the horses squared away so we could put our feet up and cool ourselves out. While it wasn’t in the 90’s as predicted, it was still flippin hot.  I also had to take some pain meds for my knee. That is something I’m going to be fixing as it continued to bother me throughout the ride, luckily there were plenty of places  where it made sense to get off and walk, and my knee only hurt when I was in the saddle (yes, I’ll be looking at changing stirrup leathers, position, knee brace, strengthening my knee etc.)

I knew there was a big canyon in the second loop. At the meeting they told us if anything happened in that canyon they would not be able to get to us out, there was no vehicle access. We would have to figure out a way to walk ourselves out. Oh, and they warned us about the illegal shooters likely to be along one portion of the trail.

 

PHoto by:  Kate Mylroie she lived along the trail
and cheered us all on. That's us in the middle, I think Ozzie is looking at a pig.
And Brooke and Spirit out in front.

So we went through some nice bridle path trails, people put out signs welcoming us. Then we started to leave civilization and head into no mans land. Well that’s not entirely true, you could hear the dirt bike riders zooming around. And then we heard the gunshots. As we crested over a hill we saw two guys shooting into a hillside. The sound echoed up the canyon to us. While Ozzie didn’t spook, I could tell the sound made him nervous, and I just didn’t want them shooting. I warned Brooke I was gonna start hollering at them. I shouted at the top of my lungs (and some folks will know I can make my voice carry a bit) and with help from the acoustics of the canyon they heard me, and we saw them put down their guns in the back of their truck. As we approached them, we thanked them and actually they were very nice. I told them a few more riders were coming behind us, and they said they would wait till they passed before doing any more shooting. We moved off and into a tiny little trail along the bottom of a ditch with good soft dirt footing, I think it would be the last good footing for several miles.

We got to a spot with a really rocky, steep down hill, and got off. Now Ozzie does not like to walk behind me. Yes, this is a thing we are constantly working on and will continue to do so. But in this case it was a bit helpful. He walked next to me, shoulder to shoulder, I held onto his breast collar with my right hand to keep from slipping down the hill and held the reins  in my left. We shimmied down the steep hill, navigating the very very rocky footing. Every time we thought we were done with the rocky down hill, we would reach a crest and there would me more sharp rocks. We just had to keep at it. Down, down we went. It was hot. And we kept going down, into a narrow canyon. The thought of the cool creek at the bottom helped. We reached it, Ozzie stood in the creek in the shade and I used a water bottle to rinse him off. Then Brooke did the same for Spirit. I got back on, and now we climbed up and up and up out of the canyon.

We had 12 hours to complete the ride. At this point we were a tad worried that we wouldn’t make it because of all the slow going. But we ran into a pair of riders who knew the trail and told us the last loop was only an hour and a half. That was heartening. But we still didn’t know exactly how much was left of loop two. So we just kept trekking, moving out whenever we could.

If you haven't seen the recent Coen Brother Movie
"True Grit" with Jeff Bridges I highly recommend it.
Keep an eye out for the horse called
Little Blacky. The book by Charles Portis is exquisite.
Watch the trailer HERE.
and some great riding stunt scenes too
See one HERE

There was a lot of water put out on the trail for us. A god send each time we saw those buckets along the trail. At one point we were plugging away up a road, a hot black asphalt road in a residential neighborhood, it was after the canyon. I was hand walking Ozzie up a hill and working hard to keep a good walking pace. WE got to the water buckets and I was splashing the cold water on my face, on my neck, wetting my handkerchief and pouring some water on Ozzie (I knew only a few riders were behind us, and there was plenty of water). I had just been telling Brooke that I was almost out of drinking water for me, and when we came in for the last loop I would need to refill my bottles. It would take a couple minutes, not ideal, but I would need that water on the last loop.

As I was splashing my face, I heard a mans voice. “Do you want some cold bottles of water?” He was like an angel. At the house just up the hill from us a man and his two dogs had brought out some water. He took my empty plastic bottles and I took the ones he offered with gratitude. He asked if the water buckets were still full for the horses, I guess he had been helping to keep them filled. He said while he was not a horse person, he loved seeing the horses at these events. Hurray for Endurance riders!

And on we went. Not long later we crested another hill and there was base camp. Hurray! We were much closer than we thought. I almost cried at that point, cause I was worried that I would need to go very slow in the final loop – not for Ozzie (he was kicking butt) but for me. I was pooped. But Brooke and I both were on the same page, at this point we had – if I remember correctly almost three hours if we took all the time we had. And knowing the loop took the other rider (who was still behind us) an hour and a half we were in good shape. This helped us relax a bit.

Ozzie headed out on the same road now for the third time. He kept turning his head as if to say, “Are you sure?” But then off we went. On the last loop I remember seeing the horny toad lizard (we also saw a big ole jack rabbit at some point on the trail). I remember the very wide, hard road (or was that earlier in the ride too?) where we let the horses open up and we found Ozzie’s big trot – Brooke estimated it was around 12 miles per hour, she asked me if I knew he could do that. Nope.

I was comfortable enough to let the reins totally loose, give him his full head, he lowered his head, stretched out and the bouncing trot changed to a gliding, ground covering pace. I had to just stay up off the saddle and out of his way, no posting on this trot. Man that felt good. It was a totally different rhythm. I think we sort of found each other in that moment. He asked for his head and I gave it to him and Ozzie gave me this gift.

I wish I had been able to take a photo of Brooke and Spirit in front of us at one point on that road. Brooke dropping the reins and letting Spirit choose the pace, moving out, with Brooke’s arms out to the side. Flying on her horses back.

We enjoyed this tough ride.

 

Ozzie back home after the ride. 

I knew we were going to complete. After the vet confirmed we were all good, we headed back to the trailer. Gave them their mash, more orchard and alfalfa. Once he was cool I took off the saddle, brushed him out. Sponged his legs.

After dinner I was the walking dead. I set my phone alarm for an hour and a half so I could pass out and then get up and check on Ozzie. I couldn’t take off my chaps or my shoes; I just laid down in my van (so thankful for my comfy bed in the VW Vanagon) with my shoes sticking off the bed. And I slept for an hour and a half. When I got up Ozzie was still munching. It was now after 10:00. The stars were bright, camp was quiet. I topped off Ozzie’s hay bag and went back to bed.

The trailer ride on Sunday was quick, no traffic. When we unloaded into the turn out pasture Ozzie rolled and trotted. Five days later he's still enjoying his week off, turn out time and playing with his horsey friends. The photos below are from Friday, six days after the ride. I love the shot of his standing still, looking good and fit. (You can click on any photo to view it larger). And the video is of him playing with that same quarter horse. Enjoy.

 Its several days later and my body is still recovering. I have soreness in my feet, hands and shoulders.
Ozzie’s back baby! (And we’re registered for Lost Padres).  

Sidebar: A HUGE Thank you to XPRides - The Duck & Annie, the veterinarians, and all their crew for continuing to put on all these rides. Thank you to all the property owners who allow us to ride across their land and see these wonderful places. I feel so very lucky to live in this area with all these varied rides taking place throughout the year - from the desert rides, to ranch rides among oak grove valleys. I hope the American Endurance Ride Conference (AERC) and all US endurance riders thank their ride managers. From my view as a total newbie I think everyone should be doing all we can to support the ride managers, make things easier and simpler on them. Without the rides there would be no AERC, and without the ride managers, there would be no rides.