Rainy Day Quiz

Although I consider myself a non-outdoorsy person, rain puts a crimp in my plans. Storms on Tuesday caused me to cancel my lesson. The saddleseat barn does have a small, covered arena. However, I had to stay home to watch the horses and keep our barn dry.

Nor could I do any of my exercises of choice: biking, swimming, or walking the dog around the field.

Plus, I had to go off the air during the worst of the storms lest my computer go down in a power surge.

Therefore, my reaction was:

1) Wonderful. This gives me the chance to stay in, catch up on my desk work, do laundry, and pop in the Tai Chi DVD to work on my flexibility.

or

B, no, 2) Pfffft. Bring on the Doctor Who reruns.

Forgetfulness

They say that when you forget an item, you subconsciously wish to stay.

I have been leaving all manner of items at the saddleseat barn, from my tea mug to my wallet. I don’t lose things. The only other time in recent memory that I misplaced my wallet was after four days of the trade fair at Rolex. I found it at the bottom of suitcase. I figured it was hiding in fear.

Now, I have taken it up a notch. I have started to take away things that aren’t mine. One of the munchkins asked me to hold her sunglasses while she rode. I hooked them on the neckline of my shirt, as I do with my reading glasses. I was almost home before I realized my mistake. With the price of diesel, it would have been cheaper to buy her a new pair. But that would not have shaded her eyes that day nor the next. Back I went.

Doesn’t take an advanced degree in psychology to figure that one out.

Weekend Report

In addition to his regular walks, Rodney did two new exercises:

1) Trotting in hand.
B) Walking through a ring.

Which one do you think he handled?

Saturday
It was finally time to get back to the trotting in hand that got derailed two months ago by his freakout over the new halter [Slow Lane]. For the non-horsey among us, this means I trot on foot, holding the leadrope, horse trots calmly next to me. It’s not a particularly natural activity, so most horses have to be taught. Usually, they object by not trotting at all. On the other end of the scale are the super-fit horses during the soundness exam at Rolex. Riders can look like they are holding the string to hyperactive kites as the horses gallop down the jog lane.

For our practice, I set up two cones, approximately 50′ apart. We walked forth and back several times to set the pattern. I then quietly, gently asked Rodney to trot by voice and by breaking into a slow shuffle. Or so I thought. Turns out I began screaming, gibbering, and emitting flaming spitballs. He wanted no part of that. During one of the fusses, he threw a front hoof in my direction.

You want to see screaming & gibbering? I explained in to him no uncertain terms that striking at people with the front feet is not allowed, not even a harmless hoof toss that might one day grow up to be mistaken for a strike. He seriously wanted none of that and took off bucking.

Here’s the weird part. He ran maybe 100′, circled back around, and came running to me. Really, made a beeline back to where I was standing. Someone had yelled at him and he wanted me to reassure him. Made sense to him.

We eventually got a very few steps of trot, declared victory, and went home.

When we got back to the barn he was hot, sweating, and had the veins in his shoulders standing out as from strenuous exercise. Class had lasted perhaps 10 minutes, most of that at a walk. Yes, he ran off, but when he has happy feet, he can zing from one end of the field to the other without breaking a sweat.

As his after work treat, I rub him with a towel until I am sure he is calm. Usually takes a minute or so. It took at least 20 minutes until he orbited back into this universe. That evening, he looked as tired as if he done a training ride for the Tevis Cup. Whatever the demons are, they are real to him.

Sunday
We took the pool tubes from last week [Noodling], joined them in a horse-sized loop, and tied the result upright between two standards. Then, I asked him to walk through. That’s it. No successive approximation. No asking him to walk next to, then over, then under, before asking for all at once. Just, boom, scary thing, get on with it.

Rodney didn’t bat an eyelash. He clearly saw it. He thought it was interesting, but at the end of the day, no big deal. A horse could be excused for taking a week to accomplish what Rodney did in the first minute. We lowered the ring to wither height so that he had to duck his head. We finally got a reaction. He ducked his head. Sum total of his response to the exercise.

Okay, he did startle once when Hubby adjusted the noodles while we were walking away. It was a weird noise. I think I spooked a bit as well.

Synthesis
I cannot grok this horse’s priorities. Predict, yes. Explain, no.

More Psyche Songs Sought

Since I will be riding Alvin (maybe, probably [Decisions]), I need a suitable motivation song list, as I have for Sam & Lola [Playlists].

There’s all the Alvin & The Chipmunks recordings, but a) “Alvin” should be part of the lyrics to help me remember the song & b) the character of Alvin the Chipmunk is hardly flattering to Alvin the Horse.

While you have your iTunes thinking caps on, Willie and Trump never got songs either. Any help, guidance, suggestions greatly appreciated. As you can see from the playlists, I am a complete musical cretin. I accept this about myself. Plus, my musical knowledge is as shallow as my musical appreciation. If it’s not part of Gilbert & Sullivan, I probably don’t know it.

Watching The Tevis

I spent the day digitially following The Tevis Cup, formally called the Western States Trail Ride. I have never done an endurance ride, nor do I know anyone in this year’s Tevis. It’s just one of those iconic names in the horse world.

The horses were mostly Arabs and Arab crosses, as you would expect. However, other breeds did represent: Mustang, Tennessee Walking Horse, FresianX, Missouri Fox Trotter, Quarter Horse, Kentucky Mountain, grade, Rocky Mountain, Paint, Standardbred, and & a mule. Those of you who saw my Twitter feed know that I followed the progress of the Thoroughbred (36 miles), the Paint/Saddlebred (55 miles) and the Appaloosa. The Thoroughbred was the second tallest horse at 16.2 hands. The tallest was an Arab, at 16.3 hands. The smallest a 13.2 hand Arab/Welsh Paint. Most of the entries hovering around 15 hands. Entries

You can tell a lot from a list of names and times. For example, the cut-off for the Robinson Flat check-point was noon. At 11:30 am local time, 99 riders had checked in. I could almost hear 61 riders scurrying as fast as they felt able, while peeking repeated at their watches.

You could also sense the updaters typing madly. Internet info included: current placings, ride times in and out of checkpoints, a pulled rider list with reason and current location of the horse, and a Facebook page with photos and comments. The Facebook page had around 2000 people “talking about this.” I believe that was just people who were commenting and did not count lurkers such as myself. Imagine the number of people repeated checking the standings. It wasn’t perfect. Safari routinely crashed or needed several attempts to find the page. Still, I generally got where I wanted to go in less than, say, 30 seconds. Amazing what is out there.

Even more amazing when you consider the process employed at the race. Somewhere on the site – which I can’t find just now – it explains their system of manually writing rider numbers as they enter a checkpoint, relaying those numbers through ham radio, and finally getting the data to web volunteers. It all seems very low-tech, I assume due to the remote location and the mountains blocking cell signals. I also wonder how they, or any other once-a-year event, balances a website that has normal traffic most of the time but goes ballistic for the duration. Any web geniuses out there care to explain? I’m thinking “the cloud” is involved?

I’ve always thought endurance would be fun if I ever decided I didn’t want to jump anymore. Arabs have personalities that may be even more, um, interesting than Thoroughbreds. From what little I know, endurance riders must have strong horsemanship and an obsessive attention to detail. Sound like anyone? OTOH, I’m not a big camper nor outdoors person, so the attraction may be more in theory than in reality. See photos here. Eeeep.

Perhaps I could volunteer. I know squat about endurance, but I speak both horse and volunteer. I would be open to a necessary but low-status job such as crowd control. I actually quite good at being perky & polite & informative for the duration of the activity. To balance all that outgoing cheer, afterwards I need to go be cranky for an equivalent length of time and am likely to chew a hole in any person unfortunate enough to spend the evening in my vicinity. But that is not the organizer’s concern.

On a sad note, condolences to Kelly Williams whose horse Diamond Rule L (Reb) was involved in a fatal fall. Snaps to the Tevis people for reporting it right away. No matter what one feels about the legitimacy of an activity that results in a death, nothing comes close to how terrible the rider feels right now.

Props also to the Sweep Riders Of the Sierras,

“Our responsibility during these events is to “sweep the trail,” that is, to follow the last few runners or riders and assure that no one is lost or injured.”

As of 10:30 pm my time, the lead rider had passed 85 miles. The other 104 were strung out along the trail back to mile 64. I don’t stay up this late, much less ride that long. I’m going to bed.

For more information.
For more information.

Would you, if you had the right horse?

Noodling with Rodney

What a wonderful horse. Hubby bought a handful of 5′ plastic “noodles” often used as pool flotations [Wiki]. Ours are a rainbow of neon colors for eventual use in ground exercises, for example, asking him to walk through an arch with noodles.

(picture noodles in place of black material)
(picture dangling noodles in place of black material)

The plan for the day was to bring the noodles into the field, catch Rodney, put on the Halter of Doom, bring him over, see how he felt about them. Never got to the halter. As soon as I dropped the pile in the field, up went the ears, and over he came to check the novel things out. Sniff this one. Sniff that one. Oh, look there’s more. Graze.

Initially, he wasn’t thrilled to have them moving toward him, but he expressed reservation more than hysteria. Within 10 minutes, I was comfortably tapping him all over with a noodle. I even rested one on his back. Fortunately, it didn’t fall off. I wasn’t ready to test the system that far. Mind you, this was al fresco. He could have run off at any point. I can think of a lot of horses who would have.

What an inexplicable horse. Leather halter? Eeek. Shiny, weird, plastic, scary things? Meh.