Perspective

Are any of you out there dealing with a rescue horse that you've had for more than a couple of years? Do you have a hard time, mentally, of letting go of how your horse was when you got him? Do you still find yourself worrying about how his is physically?

I found myself slipping into a funk last night and wondering if I should get rid of Ashke.



Sophomore

This week has been rough. We are moving into fall mode and T started back to school today. He is running cross-country again this year (which is why we tortured him and made him run since last fall) which means he needs to be picked up from school at four-thirty. That means I must leave work about half an hour early to drive to pick him up. Ultimately, that means that for the next eight weeks I will only be riding on the weekends. This week has been focused on getting routines established (worked - this morning was smooth, without a lot of trauma), getting all of his items together and getting all of us ready for this change.

Monday, when I was at the barn, I let everyone know that I can no longer do the WE on Monday nights, which is when I discovered that C (the only consistent person to ride with me) is moving Bretia at the end of the month to a barn that is more jumper focused (leaves the jumps up all of the time). That combination was enough to take any riding energy I had and sucked it right out of my soul. It was also pretty darn hot. I decided to work Ashke in the Bungie Straightjacket rather than ride, since I just wasn't feeling it. I got him set up with a halter instead of a bit, got the straightjacket on him (like a pessoa system but with bungies instead of static ropes) and turned him loose in the round pen. There was bucking, kicking, kicking at my head, rearing, racing around like a fool and a lot of cross cantering. I sat on the mounting block in the middle and waited until he was finished. Finally, he settled enough to give me some good trot and canter work, but he held his head pretty high while cantering. I was sweating like a whore on nickel night and ended up just putting him away.

Bungie Straighjacket



Last night, I spent a lot of time grooming him and noticed that he was sore over his right haunch. I rubbed it for a while and then saddled him up. We went to the outdoor arena and began our warm up. He was really tight through the back and stiff. About five minutes into our warm up another horse came into the arena which caused Ashke to get more tense, rather than less. I was riding somewhat aimlessly, trying to get him to relax and stretch when one of the boarders came in and started setting up the flag for some flag training she was doing that evening.

I asked Ashke for a canter and was rewarded with the roughest canter we have had in months. And he started throwing his head up and bouncing from lead to lead in a jarring manner. I tried to get him to stretch out and relax, and then asked him to come back down to our controlled, easy trot. Right about then the other rider in the arena went whipping past me at a dead run.

Ashke about lost his mind. We did airs above the ground. We bounced in place. And he started blowing like he was terrified by everything that was going on. I couldn't get him to calm down or relax until we started doing lateral movement. It wasn't that he suddenly got out of control, since he didn't blow up on me, it was just that it felt like he could. I got him to sidepass, then to turn in a small circle on his front while swinging his haunches out around me. He was still blowing, but at least he was also doing what I asked. Three more horses came into the arena for the flag training.

We left the arena and went across the street.

I got really down. I felt like he was broken again (stiff back, feeling like he was short striding, awful canter) and I was just done. I was done with worrying about his physical condition. I was done with trying to get a solid canter without him bouncing all over. I was done with trying to get him conditioned and pointed at a discipline that we might want to do. I felt stupid for sending in my application for the WE schooling show in September. I didn't want to try for the Endurance ride in October. I just wanted to sell my horse and stop riding. I hated myself; how I looked, how I felt, how I rode. Everything. Tipped right over into a bucket of fear and self-loathing and couldn't get myself out.

Don't let anyone fool you into thinking once you are done with menopause that the hormones are gone. They are not. They just aren't regular moments in time (like with PMS just before your period). They can sideswipe you into depression and self-hatred without you even knowing they are there.

We rode around the park across the street and overall, Ashke was pretty good. I think the diminished work is starting to take effect, because he was a ball of energy. Riding two days a week is not going to help with that. I was a slight touch better by the time we returned to the barn. I wasn't hating my horse as bad as I was when I left. My self-hatred was just as strong, however. I put him away. Cleaned up his stall. Fed him his mash and told him he was a good boy.

Then I cried in the car on the way home. J and T both felt helpless when I got home, although neither took me seriously when I said I wanted to sell Ashke. I opted to color in my adult coloring book while T worked on his driver's ed at the table. That helped. I was still full of self-loathing when I went to bed. Depression and overwhelming sadness.

I woke up about three with the realization that Ashke was stiff from the Bungie Straightjacket and his antics on Monday. He wasn't broken, he was just sore, which I should have realized when he reacted so strongly to my rubbing his right hip. Then, when I was awakened this morning by the alarm, I realized that although he got bouncy and jiggy when the horse tore past us, he didn't do anything to try and hurt me. Even tense and uptight and snorting loudly at whatever he was snorting at, he listened and tried to do what I asked.

Saiph also reminded me that we need to set goals but not expectations when we go to ride. And to roll with the flow.

The hormones just giggled and laughed their way back into somnolence. 

Ashke greeted me with a soft whinny when he saw me get out of the car this morning to feed him. Yeah, the boy is not for sale.

Of Photos and Video

I finally managed to get the photos off of my camera and found photos of the past three rides. Plus, J had a bunch of photos on her phone as well. You are welcome.

Bear Creek:

 Not so green

 LJ and AMaar, K and Eddy

J in the back

 The creek bottom was incredible

This is the damage done by the flooding in 2013 and again this year.

Chatfield:

 See the line in the trees, where there are no green limbs below? That was the high water mark this year. At least ten feet up, maybe more like 15.

 The water line a little closer, plus the foam that gets on the top of the water when the water is moving quickly, left behind when the water receded.

We stopped to eat a snack and let Ashke graze. There was what we suspect was fresh urine on the side of the tree, compliments of some passing man (too tall on the tree to be blamed on a woman). Ashke ate the bark that the urine was on. Which is how we came to realize that we stopped next to the only tree in the State park that had fresh urine on it.

I have no words.

Flood damage by Plum Creek. The dried mud was six inches deep.

Camping:

We were supposed to drive to Idaho, but instead we went camping. We drove nine and a half hours there and back to camp for fourteen hours. All three of us started having issues with altitude sickness, so we packed up and headed home. 

 It was so quiet, I didn't sleep. This was the sunrise at 5:45 in the morning.

And half an hour later as I sat outside watching the dogs run themselves silly. 

 Lily in the early morning sunshine

 T in the early morning light.

 Indian paintbrush.

Every where.

 Panoramic view from the step of the camper.

 Skittle and T in the hammock.

T and Lily in the hammock

 The meadow.

The watch dogs.

Our dogs are so good. They stay close. They are very protective. They bark.

They run in circles. Dog stuff.

 T and the girls.

 I didn't make it to the top of the hill. I coped out at the bottom.

 Hanging in the hammock

 Dogs in the sunshine.

 Picture of a hummingbird buzzing the bright yellow web.

 Lily in the hammock with me

 Hanging.

 Zonked.

 Skittle. Hammock. Feet.

 Happy boy.

On our hike we found a stock tank made from a huge tractor tire with a steady stream of water from an under ground well keeping it full. Lily couldn't help herself.

She scored a 9.5 for her dismount from the Russian judge.

Everyone else was laughing too hard to vote.

Fourteen hours after we pulled in, we headed out. Why?

No meat for dinner, no extra water (forgot the tanks at home), two tired, footsore dogs and three altitude sick humans.

The ride home.

Too tired to stand up but really wants her nose out the window.

Cherry Creek State Park:

This was a first for us. It will also be a last for us. The park is not horse friendly. 

We got a map when we first got there, studied the trails intently, marked the ones that were off limits (wetlands and swim beach) and headed out on 12 mile path. Both horses were very up and offered a huge trot and then some canter right off the bat. K was saying later that she hates the big trot because Eddy's legs are so short it gets choppy for her. Ashke was like riding a surging wave so I like the big trot. Next time, we either canter or we trot slower.

We think, although I am still not sure, that the designated parking area for equestrians was a green field, but it wasn't marked, so we aren't sure. 

When we got to the wetlands, next to Cherry Creek, the 12 mile path (designated as a trail for horses) went into the off leash dog area. We were astounded. We checked the map. Sure enough, the trail went into the off leash dog area. There was no other way around. We headed in. The trail went in and then went out a short distance later, making a small loop. There were a couple of dogs that decided we looked like fun to chase, so Ashke and I spent our time between Eddy and the wolves. (Ashke will pin his ears and go after a dog that gets too close. Eddy will run. So Ashke and I hunted wolves and kept Eddy safe.) We were maybe a hundred yards from the out fence marker when we were accosted by a cranky Park Ranger who really should have taken her prozaic that morning. 

First, I understand that taking our horses into the dog park was dangerous. We understood what the risks were, but I also understood that Ashke was not going to do anything but go after the dogs if they got too close. Second, the damn map told us to go through there and the Ranger at the front gate told us we should ride that trail. Third, don't fucking assume that we deliberately chose to violate Park policy and listen the first time when I tell you we have never ridden at Cherry Creek before and we certainly don't keep our horses at the Cherry Creek stables. Fourth, why turn us around and walk us back to the original entrance when the second entrance out was closer? And finally, I don't need to hear about how someone got thrown and ended up doing a "Christopher Reeves". It's not classy. 

Thank you for pointing out the correct trail. Can I just say how very badly the trails there suck?

The correct path.

At the end of that very long path was the stables. I was not impressed.

 The horse trail on the South east end of the Park.

 We stopped for lunch and then continued on to the Cherry Creek Trail.

Not a lot of trees.

 We played hopscotch with who was in the lead. 

Neither of us was happy with the way our horses acted in the back of the other.

 His big trot.

 Coming up to J.

The Eds. Cantering.

Coming up to the road that cuts through the wetlands.

So the trail we were on was an old railroad bed (rails to trails) that was really nice to ride on, but it led straight to the shooting range and the closer we got the more anxious Eds got. So we moved back onto the sidewalk. By the time we got to the road through the wetlands, I was done. We asked a Park Ranger if it was okay for us to travel back alongside the road and were given permission. We took it and were back to the trailer in fifteen minutes.

We will not want to ride there again. No one on their bikes slowed down to check if the horses were okay, the cars were driving by super fast, and the trails sucked. 

But still, it was a ride.

Epiphany

On Sunday, J and I rode at Chatfield Res. I'll post some comparison photos of our last ride there, vs our ride on Sunday, just to highlight the difference fifteen feet of extra water can make, but for this post I want to talk about our ride last night.

I knew going to the barn that I would have to be aware of how I was responding to Ashke. I was still feeling a little sunsick from the day before and was dealing with an immense amount of pain from the raw skin on the bottom side of my breasts and upper stomach from the lace in my bras. Try buying bras that fit my size chest without any fancy stitching or lace. It doesn't happen. Usually it's a minor irritant, but when it's hot and I'm sitting at my desk the burn/itch/pain becomes real. Combine those physical issues with no food and I was setting myself up to fail. I committed to myself that I would deal with my choices and not pick a fight with Ashke.

We got groomed and then C and I set up poles and two barrels in the outdoor arena to practice with while we rode. I just could not handle being in the indoor again, and neither could Ashke. After the obstacles were set, we got the horses groomed and saddled and made our way out. We walked a couple of circuits and then trotted a couple. Then we moved to the canter.

He felt stiff or maybe a little sore. It wasn't smooth or easy and he felt like he was going to stop at the drop of a hat. Every time I asked for a downward transaction, he fell down into a stumbling halt. There was no go in my pony. I started to feel angry and frustrated.

And then I stopped. I thought about why I ride and what I wanted to accomplish. I thought about how much I really needed him to be on point today, and the voice in my head said "why does this matter?" And just like that it didn't. I decided that instead of continuing on our path recently traveled, that we would work on other stuff. I decided to do rollbacks along the fence.

He loves rollbacks. We did six or so, and although our stops weren't sliding (I swear it is only comfortable to do sliding stops in a western saddle - I can't get my feet into position to brace my body and get thrown up on his neck - not pretty) he knew exactly what we were doing and was spinning rather quickly to go the other way. I was laughing out loud so hard I couldn't breathe so we took a break. And then I asked him to go again.

We reached the far end, he stopped, spun and bolted, head high and grabbing at the bit with a couple of bucks thrown in for fun.

I wrestled him down while the western trainer told me I needed to get his head down. I just laughed, then asked him to do it again at a moderate rate of speed with his head flexed at the poll. He did. At that point he was running, stopping and spinning without me using the reins at all. He had a bunch more go at that point though.

We then worked the barrels and the poles. He did the poles very nicely the first time with simple changes in between. But he was too tired to attempt them a second time, so we stopped. C was done riding at that point, so we carried the poles and barrels over to the fence from the back of our horse (Ashke had no issue with me picking up and carrying a 50 gallon plastic barrel from his back.)

He and Bretia rolled and nibbled on grass while we tossed the other stuff over the fence and arranged. Then we carried the saddles into the barn and finally I took Ashke out to wash off the sweat and dirt. Then tucked him into his stall with his mash. He gets the week off and we will try again next Monday.

Stupid

Sometimes we see things very clearly before we start, the details etched like futuristic hopes in the center of our minds, and it works out exactly that way. Sometimes, however, clarity is only found in retrospect - hindsight is twenty-twenty - and we are left looking back over our shoulder at what has been made clear.

Last night was one of those nights.

I should not have ridden my horse. We have had a couple of really awesome rides Monday and Weds nights, short, focused rides that made me feel like we were making progress. Those rides meant that Ashke had been ridden dressage style for three rides in a row. That was the first issue. The second issue was me. I had a really bad, very stressful week, capped by driving 300+ miles, staying in a hotel and orchestrating our companies largest layoff. It was not something we wanted to do, or something any of us felt good about, but changing economic conditions forced the decision. I got very little sleep, had to drive home in traffic, drank way to much caffeine and was feeling the stress. It was not a good time to ride. I should have gone out and enjoyed the companionship, the touch-release of being with my boy, but instead I rode. J was with me and willing to video tape our attempts at a trot-canter transition and that became my priority.

I think the pressure was too much for Ashke. And I had violated our agreement of two dressagy rides and two trail rides a week. This made for the fourth dressage focused ride in the week and I think he was done. Plus, the arena was set up for the show on Saturday, with a bunch of jumps, it was trending toward dark, there were a pair of Redtail juveniles (one of which flew over/past us close enough that his wings brushed my helmet) screaming in the treelines for their parents, who have flown away and left their fledglings to figure it out on their own. Weaning is such a traumatic time of the year. To add to the commotion, Ashke was being spooky and reverted to throwing temper tantrums mixed in with the twisting, frantic attempt to leave me in the dirt as he bolted away from the eastern end of the arena. It's the first time in over a year that he tried, three times, to unseat me. And it pissed me off.

Not conducive to a soft, relaxed and responsive ride, in case you were wondering.

Dressage is not designed for explosive bolting and frustrated anger. But some days you have to ride the horse you saddled, not the one you remember from two nights ago.

Saiph found me a YouTube video of an exercise on a square working on the walk pirouette.

We need more inside bend, but at least he is still moving his hind feet rather than planting and pivoting, like before. 

I really like this exercise.

Last one.

Ashke gets what he's supposed to do, I just need to firm up my aids and work on inside bend.

J missed the transition to start this circle.

Ashke is getting better about cantering properly and did not need to cross canter, even on a slow, small circle. That counts as a win.

I still need to work on not throwing away contact when I first ask for the canter.

Between the last canter video and the final video I will post, was our fight. I was so frustrated. He's been at this barn for almost a year and he still spooks in the same places. When he tried to bolt, rearing and twisting in his attempt, I screamed at him in frustration. I don't think he's scared. I think he's avoiding. Or protesting. Or making his opinion known. Taking advantage of my own internal dialog assessing his ability all the time.

He's not weak any more. He's not starved or abused. He's being asked to walk, trot and canter like a properly trained horse, which he can do when he wants. Last night was a temper tantrum, only I couldn't resort to taking away his Xbox One, so it devolved into a fight. Which I won, I might add. We did figure eights, backing, trotting in a small circle, spinning, trotting in a bigger circle and standing still in that corner until he walked past it on a loose rein. We did not attempt to canter, which was what led to the fight. 

By now, it was trending to dark and I was fighting tears exhausted. I asked Ashke for some stretchy trot, which he did fairly well, and we called it a night. I hate rides like that. Hate them as much as I hate having to be a mean parent to T. But just like T needs discipline, so does Ashke. I think my biggest issue with being insistent with Ashke is that I am unable to use words and logic with him, the way I can with T. Instead, I get harsh with my aids and my hands get unyielding. I don't beat him, although I may want to, but I have resorted to pony club kicking and blocking him with my hands. And just like I hate it when I have to resort to taking away the Xbox, I feel like I failed afterwards. 

So the plan is to do a 20 mile ride on Sunday, just J and myself. Get him out and moving on trail. Then on Monday, I'm setting up obstacles in the indoor and working on probably the weave poles, the gate, the garrocha and the barrels. We will give the straight up dressage a bit of a rest.

Dressage Practice at Circle Star Arena

We are fast approaching the only show I know for sure is going to offer WE in the Denver area this year. (There is a possible schooling show about a month later that I am really hoping happens too.) The show I am looking at is the Rocky Mountain Iberian Horse Club Show put on at Douglas County Fairgrounds. I am practicing twice a week on the bits and pieces that make up the test, but because I haven't been able to schedule a training session with CS, I thought this might be a great way to get some coaching, hang out with some cool people and ride the test.

I was right on all accounts.

We started with working the dressage ring and understanding the mechanism behind "riding the corners". It became very obvious that if you don't ride deep in the corners, with bend, that you will not be in position to execute a move at M, H, K or F. This becomes really important when you are riding in a 40m ring. The numbers come up fast. Ashke was being very good yesterday, giving me nice contact and flexing at the poll. He seems to have figured out that some dressage is part and parcel of his riding experience and I am very good at verbally rewarding him in the middle of a movement. We also take lots of breaks when we practice. He does not get claustrophobic any more and I am no longer pulling to frame him.

KL, the barn owner, commented on how good Ashke looked and asked what I had been doing to get him moving that way. I thought about it and answered "we've just been practicing", which is true, but we have also been working on flexing at the poll on trail and we always incorporate some lateral movements, even if it's simply changing bend in his way of moving while trotting down a straight trail. It's made him more flexible and more responsive. It's also increased my sensitivity and feel. It is a great way to train, because he doesn't get bored and I don't feel the need to drill.

Next we worked on geometry and using the numbers to help set up a 20m circle. CS gave me a great tip when she told me to roll my inside hand so the fingernails were up when we were going around the circle. Some how, that simple movement turns the rein and opens up the elbow, which has the effect of tipping the horse's nose into the inside. I could feel an immediate change in how he was moving. It opened up his inside shoulder and he stopped falling in on the inside. (I also must be riding straighter, since no one commented and told me to lift my left shoulder. Yippee!!!)

After geometry, we took turns riding a test (Western Dressage Basic Test 1) and those of us who were interested rode the WE Novice test afterwards. I got off Ashke and waited on the ground.

Ashke is very curious and interacts with the people around him.

Like a lot.

And it gets worse as he gets bored. 

He was trying to bit my boot. And making me laugh. A lot.

Standing in front of the speaker, feeling the vibrations run through his body.

Waiting for our turn.

Not a bad test, although he didn't spook at the far end of the arena when we rode the Western Dressage test (bracing and throwing his head up - he went sideways). I think the cows were coming in and startled him.

My homework is to work on the trot-canter transitions and to get him to step up to the canter in a stride. Tough stuff for us, but we have already made strides on Monday night. Hopefully, if he continues to progress and we continue to practice, we will have a good ride at the show at the end of the month.

Bear Creek 2015

On the way home from Indian Creek last weekend, K stated that she had never been to Bear Creek. We decided we needed to remedy that immediately, so we went to Bear Creek on Saturday. I let LJ know and she brought her arabian, A Maar to play. We planned to meet at Bear Creek at 10, but due to a run away cat, it was more like 10:20. A Maar was already tacked up and dragging a rope around after him in the big arena and LJ told us not to worry, there was no hurry.

 K has decided that the most effective way to feed Eddy is in a feed bag, which seems to keep Eddy from making a mess, and encourages him to eat all of it, and has the happy effect of distracting him with the frustration of trying to get the last bits out of the bottom.

 Ashke photo bombed this photo.

 Just starting out.

I have to say the ride was an interesting one. We started out on the singletrack trail that leads down to Bear Creek. There are two horse crossings at Bear Creek, one closer that does not have a way for J to cross, or the one farther down near the entrance to the park where there is a bridge for J to cross the river. Since the river (Bear Creek) was still running fast, I didn't want J to have to wade to cross over. We headed for the furthest crossing.

A Maar is still really green and although LJ has been working with him (she's on her fourth trainer), he's still incredibly spooky and inconsistent. Eddy started out that way but by riding with Ashke for almost a year now, he has settled into a really good trail pony. K knows I've been working on getting Ashke to ride behind her without arguing or fighting me and Eddy has been confident enough to take point in our rides. On Saturday, it was hard because the good natured comraderie Ashke and Eddy hold for each other was disturbed by the addition of another gelding. Add to that, A Maar didn't want to follow, didn't want to lead and wanted to be in the saddle with me on Ashke's back. Ashke even bucked-kicked at A Maar a couple of times during the day.

So, as we were trotting down the trail, A Maar would surge past Ashke in his big trot (horse can trot at 12 mph), get twenty feet in front, slam on his brakes and shy. We would pass him and he would crowd in behind Ashke, then surge out and past. Over and over again.

Ashke wanted to lose his mind.  

I put Ashke into a jog, asking him to flex at the pole, and to maintain that pace consistently. Sometimes he would jig or dance or flip his head up and try to bolt ahead, but I just applied a little leg, kept my hands soft but firm, and asked him to maintain his trot. I asked out loud, over and over again. We maintained that trot (in one way or another) for over a mile, while A Maar surged and stopped next to us. I could hear Eddy's foot beats behind us, but I could also hear K struggling with him verbally (and physically) because of the change in herd dynamics we were dealing with.

A brief walk break.

K had Eddy doing serpentines, because he was really up.

When we got to the river crossing the water was pretty deep and moving quickly. Bear Creek park is right at the edge of the mountains, so the water is still running fast from the altitude drop to get there. I took Ashke across first and although we had a couple of missteps from rocks under the surface that he couldn't see, we made it across easily. The water was up to his belly but not quite touching the bottom of my stirrups. Eddy followed us across without hesitation, which is good because if left to his own devices, he would have laid down. Not tried. Would. He is the epitome of Yoda's saying "Do or do not, there is no try."

With two of us on the other side, I turned to watch A Maar. LJ said she would get off and lead him across if she had to, but she wanted to see if he would cross on his own. He was pretty stressed that his only option was to follow the other horses across that very scary expanse, but LJ was consistent in her ask. (This is the horse that one of the trainers spent four hours getting him to set into a mud puddle one afternoon.) A Maar moved back and forth across the entrance to the river, gathered himself and launched. I swear he tried to jump the entire span. When he landed he lunged wildly for the far side. (I think someone needs to pony him out into a quieter span of water and hold him there until he stops panicking, like the Indians used to do.) I was afraid that LJ was going to get smashed by the tree on the far bank, but they managed to make it across without an injuries. 

In the meantime, K was fighting to control Eddy, who had spooked when A Maar did his salto della morte. 

 Back on the trail. 

 K and Eddy led for awhile. Eddy did a great job and I think A Maar was a little less in his pocket.

Ashke and I argued about what this meant for us. He was tossing his head, bracing against the bit, jigging sideways, dancing and cantering in place. I finally turned him away from the others and made him stand quietly. I didn't get angry, nor did I let him bully me into letting him do what he wanted, which was race after the other horses until he was in the front. When I turned him around he was much less frantic and more willing to listen. Although he did continue to trot very slowly. I could not get him to walk. Maybe next time.

These are necessary tasks he must master if I am going to consider riding in an endurance race.

 Turned away from the other horses, waiting for J.

We climbed up a fire road to the top of the plateau. On the way up, Ashke was cantering and began to kick out and flail. There may have been a buck in there somewhere too. I could hear K yelling at me to stop, so we did. Ashke had managed to fling away three of his four easy boots. Mind you these buggers take twenty minutes or so to pound onto his feet, so I have no idea how he managed to fling them off, but he did. J, who was following us up the road, saw them and gathered them in. I got off and stripped the last boot off his front right and stuffed them all into the saddlebags. He was a little tender when the path was really rocky, but for the most part he handled the terrain really well. We, however, didn't do a ton of cantering. I didn't want him to hit a tender spot and flinch at the canter.

 Waiting while I put the boots away.

 The view from the top of the plateau.

And where we stopped for lunch.

 Stripping the bridle off so Ashke could graze.

 Ashke wanting to know why J wasn't sharing her chicken.

 We headed down the plateau because we decided that we weren't going to try to cross the ditch.

 K had cantered Eddy a couple of times when she could, plus we had followed a path that led through the river bottoms where the floods from 2013 had left huge piles of sand in our way. Slogging through that had taken the starch out of his shorts.

At the bottom of the hill we had crossed a ditch via a bridge, which LJ had gotten off and handwalked A Maar across. Then we turned north and followed the track out to the road, turned west to follow it along the road (did this at a trot and A Maar was fine with the traffic) then turned south again. Somehow we ended up on the other side of the ditch from where we had eaten lunch. We had the choice of crossing the creek or backtracking. LJ was talking about leading A Maar across but it was relatively deep and somewhat soft. I rode Ashke across and Eddy followed us without issue. But A Maar was pitching a fit.

I crossed back over and asked LJ if she would like me to try ponying him across. We decided to give it a shot. (It is moments like this that I wish for a saddle with a roping horn.) I took A Maar's lead rope and headed back into the water. There was a four foot wide chasm between the banks that led to the water, with a lot of that mud. A Maar would not touch it. Instead, he began throwing himself from one side of the bank to the other, with these huge leaping jumps. Each time he did, Ashke would move a touch deeper into the water. We were facing him so we had the opportunity to move if he decided to try and jump on us. When he got to the edge of the southern bank, he had no where to go. No matter which direction he looked, there was water, and the rope was keeping him from going back up the bank. He gathered himself and launched into the water toward the other side. I turned Ashke and we headed up the bank, keeping the rope loose between us and not wrapped around anything. A Maar frantically battled the water and the bank and then heaved himself out.

 No worse for the wear, but covered in that dark, almost black, stinking mud found at the bottom of most irrigation ditches.

 Ashke was splattered too.

I'm so proud of my horse. He did awesome and was such a solid trail poneh.

 Mud flats left from the 2013 flood. There may have been more damage to this area this year.

Under that crust was very soft ground.

A bend in the river.

As we were traveling through the soft sand, Eddy suddenly collapsed. It's like his legs were cut and he just dropped as he was walking. He's done this before, in the snow at Chatfield last December, and in the water a couple of times with K. He wanted to roll and so he just dropped. I could hear K yelling and cussing at him and busted up laughing because I couldn't see them, I knew what he was trying to do.

Then we got to the final river crossing.

Ashke making his way across

LJ leading A Maar across.

FTW!!

No one was hurt but LJ had forgotten her phone was in her half chap. It is toast.

Eddy crossed like a champ. K's challenge was getting him to stand still and wait for A Maar to cross.

We made decent time going back to the trailer. J said that she enjoyed doing a ride we had done last a year ago because 1) Coyote was better than the old bike, and 2) she was a lot more fit. 

IDK if we will go back again this year, since Chatfield is a better ride, but it was fun to ride there with K for the first time.