A Tale of Two Buckskins

Merry Christmas!

2011-12-25T00:01:00.000-08:00

To all my blogger friends, wherever you are, whatever you may be doing, I wish you a Merry Christmas!

It's The Rare Movie That I Look Forward To Seeing In The Theater.

2011-12-15T20:23:00.000-08:00

But it should come as no surprise that I'll be there on December 26th:

I'd be there on Christmas Day if I thought I could get away with it.

If you want to know why I like horses, it's right there at 1:48.

Why I Like Living In a Small Town

2011-12-11T17:57:00.001-08:00

Stolen from a friends Facebook Post. This is a five minute walk from our house.

"God forbid that I should go to any heaven where there are no horses."

2011-12-09T21:27:00.000-08:00

Those words were written by R. B. Cunningham-Graham in a 1917 letter to Theodore Roosevelt.

Several years ago, in the course of blog surfing, I happened upon From Hell To Heaven: Saving Argus, which has been previously mentioned in this post. It chronicles the story of a rescued Thoroughbred named Argus, who had spent ten of his first sixteen years confined to a 12 x 16 pen with little human contact or proper care. This existence had taken a toll on Argus, both physically and mentally.

He was rescued on Dec. 6, 2007. In the beginning he was frightened, terrified of the new world in which he found himself. But, in his new home he found the care and understanding needed to adapt to a life he could never have imagined. Over time, he become a happy, well adjusted horse.

As time passed, posts became few and far between. After all, there was little to report, as Argus, with his best friend Ridge, was living a life not unlike my own horses. At times the silence would leave the reader wondering if all was well.

A new post appeared on my Google Reader today. I clicked on the link, and found myself confronted with the post that I always dreaded, yet knew was inevitable. Argus died on Nov. 22nd. And, a mere seven hours later, his best friend, the horse named Ridge, joined him.

I take solace in the fact that both horses are now free of the pain which was their daily companion. Should you choose to read the blog, I've been told to warn readers to keep a box of tissue handy.

Saving Argus is, above all else, a story of hope.

Changes. They Are a Comin'.

2011-12-08T21:30:00.000-08:00

Big changes are heading down the pike for the family BR, and our horses. There will be some upheaval in the next few weeks, but things will be good on the other side. Very good.

For the next few weeks, I will probably be a bit scarce in the blogging world, both as a reader and writer. But I'll be back.

Seventy Years

2011-12-07T06:00:00.000-08:00

Seventy years ago today, the Japanese Navy attacked the United States at Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. Nine ships were sunk, or destroyed, and fourteen were severely damaged. 188 aircraft were destroyed on the ground. 2,403 servicemen were killed. 1177 of those men died when the USS Arizona sank at her berth. Another 1178 servicemen were wounded.

President Franklin Delano Roosevelt addressed Congress the following day, asking them to declare war on Japan, declaring Dec. 7, 1941 to be a "date which will live in infamy". With only one dissenting vote, war was declared. The United States of America was now embroiled in the Second World War, ending the policy of Isolationism, and any semblance of neutrality which the United States of America had striven to maintain. The war would not end until nearly four years later, at the cost of countless lives, both military and civilian, on all sides of the conflict.

Regardless of your opinions of war and conflict, I would ask you to take pause this day to remember the Soldiers, Sailors, Airmen, and Marines who died that day at Pearl Harbor.

Also, remember those who survived. Their numbers are dwindling.

I Hope There Is A Special Place In Hell...

2011-12-06T17:35:00.001-08:00

...for people that do things like this.

More on that.

Things That Go Good Together

2011-12-04T20:19:00.000-08:00

I love the singing of "Celtic Woman". I've been known to watch their concerts on the telly more than once. The family BR thinks me a bit daft, but I like enjoy their singing.

Since childhood, I have also loved Christmas music. That has not changed as I have aged.

So, Celtic Woman and Christmas Music. I must search out a CD.

The Issue

2011-12-04T15:05:00.000-08:00

The current occupant of the White House recently signed a bill which will allow the horse slaughter industry to resume operation within the United States. Make no mistake, the industry itself did not end, it merely resulted in horses being shipped to Canada and Mexico where the unseemly deed was carried out.

I've been waffling over whether to post about this issue. As a result of my delay, Jessica over at the Spotty Horse News beat me to the punch with this post, and this one. Both are well written, cutting to the heart of the matter. Horse slaughter does not exist because greedy people want to make a buck selling their meat to those who will eat it. It exists, as Jessica points out, because we have allowed the breeding of too many horses. The situation is exacerbated by current economic woes, causing good people to be faced with terrible choices.

This is an issue over which I am torn. While I understand why it happens, I am not in favor of the practice. One need only look into the eyes of horse, and see the intelligence hidden behind them to know that this is a fate they do not deserve. I would have a veterinarian euthanize my horses before I would send them to a kill pen, or worse, abandon them to face starvation.

Good Neighbors

2011-11-27T18:24:00.000-08:00

In 1900, Frederick Weyerhaeuser purchased 900,000 acres of prime Washington timberland from the Great Northern Railway, thus establishing the Weyerhaeuser Timber Company and it's legacy in this state. Depending on your personal feelings, that legacy may or may not be somewhat dubious, considering the vast swaths of old growth forests which were felled in the first half of the 20th Century.

But that isn't the subject of this post. For the most part, Weyerhaeuser has been a good neighbor, permitting non-motorized recreation on their lands, provided it was compatible with logging operations. Hiking, horseback riding, hunting, etc.

In the past decade, Weyerhaeuser has sold most, if not all, of their timberland to an investment group, who shall remain unnamed. By all accounts, they were continuing the tradition of permitting recreation on the lands.
At least until Dec. 31st of this year. Effective Jan. 1, 2012, non-motorized recreation access will require the purchase of permit, at $75 per person, or $150 for the family. The claim is that this is for equitable treatment and to establish rules for behavior on the lands. I tend to believe that ill-behaved recreational users will scoff at the permit, and perpetrate bad behavior undeterred.

I, and others with whom I've discussed the matter, are inclined to believe that, this is nothing more than a means to make a few extra dollars. Recall that the current owners are an "investment group", charged with making money for their shareholders.

There are millions of acres of public timberland in this state. I'll keep my $75, thank you.

On The Subject of Comment Notification

2011-11-27T08:58:00.000-08:00

As it turns out, all of the notifications were in my spam folder. Makes you wonder way gmail would think that comments form Google blogger are spam. Sigh...at least I know where to look from now on.

Grrr...

2011-11-25T19:57:00.000-08:00

For reasons unbeknownst to me, I am receiving only sporadic email notifications of comments left on my blog. Thus, my failure to acknowledge your comments is not intentional.

In the same vein, I'm not receiving notifications of comments left on other blogs. I diligently click the box requesting notice of follow on comments, but, alas!, none is received.

I'm not sure how much one can complain about a free service, but still...

Happy Thanksgiving!

2011-11-24T11:37:00.000-08:00

I am thankful for many things. A wonderful family, great friends, our horses, good health, an amazing job, and the opportunity to have served my country for 20 years in the World's Greatest Navy.

And I am thankful for being an American. For all the current problems and differences we face, we still live in a land of opportunity paralleled by none.

Happy Thanksgiving to you all!

Winter Wonderland

2011-11-22T20:56:00.000-08:00

The Blacktail Deer population of Western Washington are pleased to report they survived another season of yours truly lugging his rifle over the hill and through the woods. I aspire to one day approach hunting in a more serious fashion, scouting in the spring and summer, planning each hunt in detail, sighting in my rifle, and having my gear meticulously packed weeks in advance.

As it stands, my current technique is more akin to "I think I'll go hunting this weekend. Has anyone seen my rifle?".

My outdoor equipment is kept in a series of rubbermaid bins, clearly marked with the subject of their contents, such as "camping", "hunting", and, of course, two marked "horse". On the surface this would seem to simplify matters, except for the one variable in the equation. Me. I tend to lack consistency in where I put certain essential items, such as my Survival & First Aid Kits. Since they are most often carried when riding, they can usually be found in the horse bin. But if last carried while hunting, I probably left them in the aforementioned hunting bin. Or worse, left them in an unrelated location. Case in point: my binoculars are sitting on my dresser right now, where I put them to dry. With any luck, I might return them to their proper location before next season.

The net result is that packing consists of a mad scramble to find and pack my gear, and usually consists of me throwing things around the garage and cursing, all while attempting to locate the ~~less~~ important items, such as bullets and hunting license.

When one considers that Blacktail Deer are considered by many to be the most elusive, difficult to hunt members of genus Odocoileus, it becomes clear that I am not exactly setting myself up for success. Maybe someday. At least I enjoy being out in the wilderness.

Mother Nature was kind in that she provided a nice treat in the Cascade Foothills this past weekend:

At times, it was snowing so hard that visibility was down to a hundred yards. I had to keep shaking the accumulated snow off my hat.

There was no wind, and when one stopped and stood perfectly still, the most noticeable thing was the unbroken silence. Not a sound. Nary a rustling leaf, or chirping bird. The kind of silence that should only be found in a tomb. Eerie is the only word that adequately describes the sensation.

Since it was deer season, the elk were plentiful:

Can you see her? (Click to enlarge)

A rather good weekend, I daresay.

In other news, Smokey Joe got a new blanket. I think the color is rather apropos, myself.

Another One Off the Bucket List

2011-10-31T19:29:00.000-07:00

Since my blogging has been rather ~~non-existent~~ lame as of late, I haven't shared my latest "new adventure while riding a horse", which occurred while packing gear into elk camp.

After the first trip in, unloading the gear, lunch, beer, and other appropriate lollygagging at camp, my nephew and I made the two hour ride back to the trailers to pick up the rest of the gear. After more beer, chocolate chip cookies from the folks semi-permanently camped at the trailhead, and loading up the panniers, we mounted up and headed out, pack horses in tow. Departure time may have been on the wrong side of 6pm. No worries, we should make it to camp before dark.

I wasn't wearing a timepiece, so I don't have any reference times, but it did not seem all that long before the light began to fail. And I do mean fail. The moon was out, but it rarely penetrated the canopy of the heavy timber. Soon, it looked like something like this:

I exaggerate only slightly. The only things I could make out in the dark were Smokey's neck (there's something to be said for a Buttermilk Buckskin), and the occasional cross-section of fallen trees which had been cut from the trail, which provided the only assurance that we were still on the trail. I was riding lead, ponying the Appaloosa (Jack) pictured in a previous post, and, as I saw it, I had two choices:

1. Trust my horse, or
2. Trust my horse

I opted to trust my horse. For all his antics in the arena, Smokey has long since proven himself to be the wise old trail horse, who is no slouch in the wilderness. We weren't about to break out flashlights, as that would only serve to ruin the night vision of our trusted steeds. On we rode.

I'm not big on talking when riding the trail. For me, quiet is a key component of the wilderness experience. The solitude this night was amplified by the complete darkness, the quiet broken only by the soft sound of hooves on the trail, and the occasional snort of equine nostrils. At the risk of sounding dramatic, I found that, with nothing to concentrate on, save my own thoughts, I reveled in the feeling of senses stripped bare.

All good things come to an end, and before long the raw glow of a lantern appeared through the trees, snapping me out of my reverie. The horses, not surprisingly, had found camp. Soon, the gear was unloaded, horses settled, watered, and fed, and we settled in to a warm dinner ourselves, this new experience behind me.

On a side note, an old packer once told me that when riding at night, hanging a glow stick from your neck would light the trail ahead of you. I can attest, from experience this night, that the claim is pure horse puckey. I gave this a try, and the only noticeable effect was total loss of what little night vision I had. Within two minutes, I shoved it in a pocket, never to be tried again.

I'm Not in the Market...

2011-10-31T18:18:00.001-07:00

...but this is still funny!

State of the Blog

2011-10-18T20:25:00.000-07:00

After several (well, one anyway) inquiries into my well being, I thought I'd better check in. Since I'm rather uninspired with respect to the written word, I'll catch up on my doings with pictures.

What I've been up to:

1. Giving away a Bride.

2. Riding to Elk Camp

3. Coveting Appaloosa pack horses at elk camp:

4. Returning from Elk Camp

5. Giving away another Bride.

6. Taking my rifle for a walk, and enjoying some fabulous views.

That about sums it up. I know, I know...I lead a boring life.

Observations

2011-07-20T20:15:00.000-07:00

In the course of my life, I have met a sum total of three people who could be categorized as "famous". That word being applied to those likely to be known by a larger segment of the population than us regular folk. By the term "met", I mean having engaged in conversation beyond "can I have your autograph" (Sorry Bob Griese).

The first was Barbara Bush. She was the sponsor of the second submarine I served aboard, USS Houston (SSN-713). Touring the boat while on business in San Diego, she stopped in the Chief's quarters to chat with a few us. A very nice lady, and while the meeting was brief, I feel that I am better for the experience. She told us "George doesn't miss being President, but he misses you fellows."

The second was Tony Curtis. Having served aboard a Submarine Tender in the Second World War, and starring in Operation Petticoat, he was invited as the guest of honor to the Submarine Birthday Ball in San Diego (1997 I think). Having served in the Navy, he was wise enough to know that hanging out with the Chief Petty Officer's would, of course, prove to be the most fun. He was exactly what one would expect an actor of his generation to be. That is, politically incorrect, and absolutely funny.

The third was today. As it occurred at work, I will adhere to personal policy, and not divulge the details.

The point of this post is not to say "look at me, I've met famous people!" No, it is simply my observation that upon meeting people who, until that moment, seemed larger than life, I instantly realized that they are merely people. Perhaps more successful, richer, or well known, but still flesh and blood people.

Small Projects

2011-07-17T18:12:00.000-07:00

When it comes to riding, particularly trail riding, I'm always looking for ways to improve my gear, while not spending a grunch of money.

One item that has continued to be a minor irritant is carrying water. At first, I carried Nalgene bottles in the horn bags. This is okay, at least until one is removed for drinking. The other gear in the bag settles to fill the void, requiring the availability of two free hands to clear a space and return the bottle. This also draws your focus away from the reins and the horse, which is never a good idea. Should you be a trailing a pack horse, it becomes downright impossible.

The next method I tried was one of these:

I hung it from the saddle horn, which soon presented two challenges. First, when going downhill, it would end up on Smokey's neck. No good. And, on at least one occasion, it flew off the horn and into the bushes when Smokey felt the need to pull some antics. Scratch that idea.

I asked myself "what did the Cavalry do?" As it turns out, during and after the First World War, they used this. "Great" thought I, I'll get via eBay or some other internet resource. Except that the going price is about $75+, a bit much to pay for a water carrier. A tad steep for a drink of water.

Imagine my luck at a recent gun show, whilst perusing a table of military surplus items, I spied this gem:

Yes, folks, that's a M1918 Cavalry Canteen cover. For the low price of $15. I already possess a M1944 canteen, and felt that the leather strap and hardware would be easy to replace, so I snapped it up.

Some saddle string leather and a few pieces of brass hardware were all that was needed. Here's the finished product:

I'll report back on whether this proves to be a good solution to the water problem.

The next item on the agenda: Lead Rope for the trail. I prefer to carry a and lead rope, as one may find it necessary to stop and secure the horse to a tree to permit trail clearing, lunch, attending to various bodily functions, etc. The easiest method is to leave the halter on under the headstall, with the lead rope attached and looped up over the saddle horn. I use a rope halter, since is it as no metal hardware to break. I decided it was time to switch to a lead rope which does not have a snap on it, similar to this product from Double Diamond. Unfortunately, my local tack store does not carry them, and to purchase one via the interwebs, I was looking at close to $30 after shipping, which is a bit much for a lead rope.

Undaunted, I purchased 12 1/2 feet of lead rope material, which, combined with two pieces of electrical tape and a length of saddle string leather leftover from the previous project, resulted in this:

It may be not be pretty, but the total cost was under nine bucks. And it gave me something to do on a dreary afternoon.

Desperately Seeking Summer

2011-07-17T16:24:00.000-07:00

INSTALLING SUMMER.....
███████████████░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ 44% DONE.
Installation failed. 404 error: Season not found. The season you are looking for might have been removed, had its name changed, or is temporarily unavailable. Please try again...

The rule of thumb here in the Pacific Northwest is that the weather turns to Summer after July 4th. Apparently Ma Nature has forgotten this little factoid. While folks in the southern half of the country appear to be getting baked, we seem to be trapped in a never ending Spring. Or, Fall has started early. While it isn't cold, it isn't particularly warm either. And it's raining, with more in the forecast this week. Bah...

Crystal Mountain Ski Resort record 612 inches of snow (that's 51 feet!), and had their longest ski season on record, running from Nov. 18, 2010 to July 14th this year. Great for the skiers, not so much for those who ride stock or backpack in the wildnerness. Let me illustrate.

That's Crystal Mountain on the left. To the right is Scout Pass, on the Pacific Crest Trail, one of the entries into the Norse Peak Wilderness, which the astute reader will recall is one of my favorite summer riding areas. Unless, of course, it's covered in snow. Initial reports indicate there is a quite a bit of the white stuff on the ground still, and that trails took a beating from a rougher than normal winter. My brother-in-law and I are going to take a drive up to Government Meadows Horse Camp sometime in the next couple weeks, and hike in to assess trail conditions before attempting to go in on horse back. I'm trying to be optimistic about this, but I think packing season will be abbreviated this year.

Al Gore, call your office.

Diagnosis

2011-07-11T18:39:00.000-07:00

The discomfort in my lower back has not subsided. Standing and lying down relieve the pressure, but prolonged sitting results in a dull throbbing sensation down low. Walking is at times easy, at others a struggle. On Saturday morning, I noticed bruising where there had been none. Growing mildly concerned about the possibility of a fracture, or worse, I visited the Sawbones today.

I'm pleased to report that "Lumbar Contusion" is the diagnosis. The treatment: Alternating ice and heat, Alleve, and beer (I may have added that last one myself).

This constitutes my first visit to a physician since I retired from Uncle Sam's Navy. As my employer provides health coverage free of charge, I opted to take the civilian route, as opposed to navigating the murky waters of TriCare. I was most pleasantly surprised. While there, I disrobed and dressed twice, was examined by the Doc, x-rays were taken and examined by a Radioligist, back with the Doc, treatement discussed, and a tetanus shot for good measure. One hour and ten minutes later, I was sitting in my pickup headed home.

Prior to this, my visits to medical fell under the heading "Adventures in Naval Medicine". A typical experience goes something like this:

Viewing the obviously broken bone in my hand, I proceed to visit the ships "Doc". Submarines only carry a specially trained enlisted Independent Duty Corpsman for medical staff. I was, at varying times, convinced that said training consisted of two things: 1) How to convince someone that they were, in fact, not hurt, but malingering. 2) How to dispense Motrin.

Doc: "Stop malingering. Here's some Motrin. Now get back to work."

Me: "But this bone is pointing in the wrong direction."

Doc: "Yes it is. Stop malingering. Take your Motrin, and get back to work."

Me: "I can't move my fingers."

Doc: "It's getting close to lunch time. Go malinger at Squadron Medical."

A similar scene is repeated at squadron medical, only this time you are sent to Balboa Naval Hospital. Never mind that your hand is obviously broken, drive yourself malingerer.

I was lucky, getting in to see the Doctor a mere two hours after the scheduled appointment. After viewing the obviously broken fifth metacarpal in the x-ray, the Ortho Doc looks at me and asks "what would you like us to do?" (I'm not kidding. You can't make this shit up.)

Uh, gosh, I don't know, give me some Motrin? Reset the bone maybe?

Of course, after said bone had been reset, I was left wondering if I had chosen poorly. No anesthetic or such things. That hurt worse than breaking it did.

"There's your cast, malingerer. Get back to your command." Gladly.

The only hiccup in today's visit came when the Doc asked if I need a note for work. I said no, the only thing this injury is affecting is my ability to ride horses. To which she replied "that's probably for the best."

She obviously does not own any horses.

The Art of Getting Out of the Saddle

2011-07-06T19:12:00.001-07:00

In the simplest sense, there are two means for dismounting a horse. The planned method, and the unplanned method. The former is, of course, preferred, but does not make good blog fodder.

On Independence Day, Daughter #2's Husband (henceforth known as DN2H), and I went for a trail ride on Weyerhaeuser land north of Enumclaw. DN2H rode Smokey, while I rode Dozer. You may recall, from this post, that Dozermeister has been a tad skittish. This may become important later.

Dozer is shaped somewhat like a barrel, and is lacking in a significant withers. When going down hill, it begins to feel like the saddle is going to end up on his neck. To combat this, I brought along a crupper. Any wise horseperson will tell you to only introduce new things in the arena or round pen. I do not claim to be wise. I put the crupper on in stages, and once secure, let him sit with it for about ten minutes. No reaction, so all must be well.

I put the saddle bags on, again with no problem. Until I started to walk away. This was apparently one thing too many as he started jumping around like a bronc. Oh boy. After a few tense moments, we got him settled down. I removed the crupper. This seemed to calm the youngster, and we soon hit the trail.

The next three hours were uneventful, as we enjoyed the quiet and the nice weather. We were moving up a logging road, when I heard the sounds of other riders approaching on an intersecting road. Soon, a white horse showed up on the trail.

Dozer spooked so suddenly, and so quickly, that before I even realized it, I was flat on my back on the ground. I'm fairly certain the only reason Dozer did not manage to bolt is the fact that old Smokey Joe was standing in the way, with a look on his face that seemed to say "what's all the commotion about?" Finding one rein still in my hand, I jumped to my feet and gave a jerk on it to stop him. As quickly as the rodeo had begun, it was over.

I straightened the bit in his mouth, and climbed back in the saddle. A quick self assessment revealed the bottom of my left forearm to be, well, a bit scratched up. More on that later. A few other cuts and bruises, and my back was a wee bit sore. We rode up to the other party. Lo and behold, it was a friend of ours, and a whole group of her friends. We talked for a few minutes, laughed about my dismount, and then headed in on our separate paths. As DN2H put it "only your family would run into someone you know in the middle of nowhere". This does seem to happen regularly.

I asked DN2H's what happened. He put it rather succinctly: "Dozer did a rollback, I heard a thud, and you were the ground. You got back in the saddle, rode up, and started talking to your friends".

We headed back to the trailer without further event, unsaddled, loaded up, and took the ponies home.

It wasn't til later that the pain set in. It was a hard landing, cuz I don't bounce like I used too. My lower back hurts (sitting down is the worst), and my forearm looks like someone took a cheese grater to it. But, as they say, pain let's you know you're alive, so I'm alive and well. Although it may be a few more days before I climb up in the saddle.

BTW, this was my fault. I know Dozer has been skittish, and I heard the other riders coming. I should have been prepared for his reaction. Had I been, I probably would have stayed in the saddle. Sometimes I just have to relearn a few lessons.

Flyover Country

2011-06-02T18:09:00.000-07:00

Seems it isn't dead yet. Follow the link over at Lex's place.

I wonder if you could find that much civic pride in a city of roughly 775,000 people on either of the coasts?

Freedom Isn't Free

2011-05-30T07:27:00.000-07:00

In Flanders Fields
John McCrae, 1915.
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

The Rough Life of Our Horses

2011-05-21T16:07:00.000-07:00

For Those of You Who Have/Want Kids

2011-05-21T14:39:00.000-07:00

Kipp over at Rockbottom has a way with words:

rockbottom: Mystery meat

News on the Front

2011-05-21T13:31:00.000-07:00

Despite appearances from the previous post, it wasn't a bad week...just a long one that seemed like it might never end. But Friday finally came, and since I woke up this morning, the much anticipated Rapture appears to have been postponed.

As DN3 had qualified in four events to participate in the High School Equestrian State Meet, last weekend was spent at the Grant County Fairgrounds in Moses Lake, WA. It was a good weekend overall, and she and her riding partner placed 5th in Ranch Sorting.

On the down side in the horse world, there has been an outbreak of the neurological form of EHV-1 (Equine Herpes Virus), which can be deadly to horses. This article from the local news sums it up in layman's terms. There have been conflicting reports as to whether an exposed horse was present in Moses Lake. In addition to the WAHSET meet, there was a Reining Horse event at the fairgrounds. I would conservatively estimate that 500-600 horses were present last weekend. Thus far the two horses we took aren't showing any signs, and while we doubt they were exposed, we are playing it safe.

So is most of the horse industry. Shows, organized trail rides, and just about every planned gathering of horses for the next three weeks have been cancelled. Boarding facilities are in lockdown, with no horses permitted to come or go. While this may seem a bit knee jerk, when dealing with a virus that has no prevention or cure, it is the safest course of action to take. While I would much rather be on a trail ride today, it's more important to know that my horses are safe.

Deb sent me this link to a good video* about EHV-1 that may be of interest to horse owners.

*Posting this video does not constitute an endorsement of Parelli.

It's Been One of Those Weeks...

2011-05-20T21:07:00.000-07:00

More later...

Solo Trail Ride

2011-05-02T19:14:00.000-07:00

Sunday's weather was clear and bright, with the high reaching in the upper 60's. With the Ladies BR off to shop for wedding dresses and attend showers and such, yours truly declared it to be a fine day for a trail ride, and to try something I've been wanting to do for some time. I was going to ride alone. I know I've ridden Smokey along the river levee alone, but riding within a mile or two of home doesn't really count in my book. I'm talking pack the horse and tack in the trailer, drive somewhere, and ride.

Mrs. BR suggested that I should take our Paint gelding, Dozer. I though, "why not", and loaded the young man up.

Dozer is DN2's horse. She bought him him when he was four. He's nine now, and has spent the last two years leased out to a girl who has used him for 4H, but she is done riding, so he's headed back to our care. He has spent the better part of the time being ridden in the arena only, and has become a bit punchy. Dozer is a tad skittish, goofy about his off side, and has run off once or twice while his rider was dismounting. At the 4H show on Saturday he did his level best to unseat three different riders. What could possibly go wrong on a leisurely trail ride?

Dozer needs a confident rider. Horses are very sensitive to their riders mood, particularly if nervousness, trepidation, or fear enter the equation. You are the leader when riding, and if you're scared, most horses will sense that there is something to be afraid of, and will make heroic effort to "get the heck out of here". As the horse becomes more skittish, the nervous rider gets scared, which in turns scares the horse more, which causes the riding to become seriously frightened...wash, rinse, repeat. Possible recipe for a bad ending.

We went to Mill Pond, a series of equestrian trails on Weyerhaeuser land off Hwy 410. After saddling up, I looked him in they eye and in no uncertain terms informed him that it was a nice day, and we were going to have a good ride. That, or he would go to France in a box. And off we went...for three uneventful hours.

He was uncertain, but he paid attention. He stopped on occasion, requiring some added encouragement (read: spurs) to get going again. If we encountered other groups of riders, he became certain that we needed to follow them, and would get a little loose in the steering until I applied proper motivation (read: spurs) to get him pointed in the desired direction of travel. Beyond that, nary a problem. A very enjoyable ride, and, I think, good for his mind.

It was interesting to contrast the differences between Smokey and Dozer on the trail. At 22, Smokey is very trail wise, and follows the path with little to no rider direction. I'm reasonably certain I could take a nap in the saddle and still find myself on the same trail upon waking. Dozer, on the other hand, would occasionally lose sight of the trail and head off into the trees. Dozer has a quicker walking pace, which I rather enjoyed. Smokey can be a bit of a slow poke, which can be infuriating at times.

I know that one ride is only a data point, but Dozer just may have a future in the mountains.

Allright, Already...

2011-04-28T18:59:00.000-07:00

Well, I guess I will refrain from putting this blog in mothballs (at least for the time being). Truth be told, I've lost interest in the whole affair. But I'll try to resuscitate this thing. Just not tonight.

But we will take a moment out for the 2nd Amendment. Via email:

Shooting Advice:

Never let someone or thing that threatens you get inside arm’s length and never say "I’ve got a gun". If you feel you need to use deadly force for heaven’s sake let the "first sound they hear be the safety clicking off", and they shouldn't have time to hear anything after that if you are doing your job.

'The average response time of a 911 call is over 23 minutes… the response time of a .44 magnum is 1400 feet per second.'

Clint Smith, Director of Thunder Ranch, is a drill instructor (Thunder Ranch is a firearms training facility in Arizona ). Here are a few of his observations on tactics, firearms, self-defense and life as we know it in the civilized world.

"The most important rule in a gunfight is: Always win and cheat if necessary."

"Don't forget, incoming fire has the right of way.."

"Make your attacker advance through a wall of bullets. You may get killed with your own gun, but he'll have to beat you to death with it, cause it's going to be empty."

"If you're not shooting', you should be loading'. If you're not loading', you should be moving', if you're not moving', someone's going to cut your head off and put it on a stick."

"When you reload in low light encounters, don't put your flashlight in your back pocket.. If you light yourself up, you'll look like an angel or the tooth fairy... and you're going to be one of 'em pretty soon."

"Do something. It may be wrong, but do something."

"Shoot what's available, as long as it's available, until something else becomes available."

"If you carry a gun, people will call you paranoid. That's ridiculous. If you have a gun, what in the hell do you have to be paranoid for?"

"Don't shoot fast, unless you also shoot good."

"You can say 'stop' or 'alto' or use any other word you think will work, but I've found that a large bore muzzle pointed at someone's head is pretty much the universal language."

"You have the rest of your life to solve your problems.. How long you live depends on how well you do it."

"You cannot save the planet, but you may be able to save yourself and your family."

"Thunder Ranch will be here as long as you'll have us or until someone makes us go away, and either way, it will be exciting."

More Excellent Gun Wisdom…

The purpose of fighting is to win. There is no possible victory in defense. The sword is more important than the shield, and skill is more important than either. The final weapon is the brain. All else is supplemental.

1. Don't pick a fight with an old man. If he is too old to fight, he'll just kill you.

2. If you find yourself in a fair fight, your tactics suck.

3. I carry a gun cause a cop is too heavy.

4. When seconds count, the cops are just minutes away.

5. A reporter did a human-interest piece on the Texas Rangers. The reporter recognized the Colt Model 1911 the Ranger was carrying and asked him 'Why do you carry a 45?' The Ranger responded, 'Because they don't make a 46.'

6. An armed man will kill an unarmed man with monotonous regularity.

7. The old sheriff was attending an awards dinner when a lady commented on his wearing his sidearm. 'Sheriff, I see you have your pistol. Are you expecting trouble?' 'No ma'am. If I were expecting trouble, I would have brought my rifle.'

8. Beware of the woman who only has one gun, because she probably knows how to use it very well.

'The true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him.' G. K. Chesterton

A people that values its privileges above its principles will soon lose both.

"Those who hammer their guns into plows will plow for those who do not..." - Thomas Jefferson.

Time to Join the Mothball Fleet?

2011-04-26T19:09:00.000-07:00

Mothball:

1. to deactivate (as a ship) and prevent deterioration chiefly by dehumidification

2. to withdraw from use or service and keep in reserve : put aside

Nuclear Power Plant Troubles

2011-03-15T18:45:00.000-07:00

It should be fairly obvious that while serving in Uncle Sam's Navy, I did my sea time aboard submarines. Yes, I went to sea on vessels which were designed to SINK ON PURPOSE.

What may not be obvious is this: I was a nuclear power plant operator, referred to in Navy jargon as a "nuke".

I'm not going to downplay the events in Japan. Things are not good. The plants were capable of withstanding the earthquakes, and were automatically shutdown as designed. The problems were created when the resultant tsunami disabled the backup electrical systems which are used to keep the coolant pumps running. Even after shutdown, a reactor core will continue to generate an immense quantity of heat for many days, or until it has been purposely cooled down. For the plants in Japan, with no electrical power available, there was no way to remove the heat, which caused a bad situation to get infinitely worse.

However, none of the explosions were a result of the reactor cores "blowing up". The enriched uranium used in nuclear fuel is not capable of exploding. The explosions were the result of hydrogen which built up in the containment buildings following the venting of built up water pressure into the structures.

Of course, this event has permitted the anti-nuke crowd to fan the flames of hysteria, enabled by an all to willing media.

For a better explanation: http://pajamasmedia.com/blog/fear-the-media-meltdown-not-the-nuclear-one/

One of the Benefits of being a Master Chief...

2011-03-13T19:55:00.001-07:00

Was the ability to speak what was on my mind with little fear of repercussion.

To wit:

A young Navy Officer was in a terrible car accident, but due to the heroics of the hospital staff the only permanent injury was the loss of one ear.

Since he wasn't physically impaired he remained in the military and eventually became an Admiral. However, during his career he was always sensitive about his appearance.

One day the Admiral was interviewing three Master Chiefs for the Command Master Chief position.

The first Master Chief was a Surface Navy type and it was a great interview. At the end of the interview the Admiral asked him, "Do you notice anything different about me?"

The Master Chief answered, "Why yes. I couldn't help but notice you are missing your starboard ear, so I need to know whether this impacts your hearing on that side."

The Admiral got very angry at this lack of tact and threw him out of his office.

The next candidate, a Seabee Master Chief, when asked this same question, answered, "Well yes, you seem to be short one ear."

The Admiral threw him out also.

The third interview was with a Submarine Master Chief. He was articulate, extremely sharp, and seemed to know more than the other two Master Chiefs put together. The Admiral wanted this guy, but went ahead with the same question.

"Do you notice anything different about me?"

To his surprise the Submarine Master Chief said, "Yes. You wear contact lenses."

The Admiral was impressed and thought to himself, what an incredibly tactful Master Chief. "And how do you know that?" the Admiral asked.

The Submarine Master Chief replied, "Well, it's pretty hard to wear glasses with only one fuckin' ear."

RIP: Lance Corporal Tasker and Theo

2011-03-10T18:43:00.000-08:00

In the rush to keep up with the latest celebrity foibles, some of you may have missed this story.

No Bad Color on a Good Horse

2011-03-03T19:10:00.000-08:00

Whilst perusing Dreamhorse.com, this fella caught my eye.

"Kenny" is coming five this year, is green broke, and has been ridden primarily on trails. He's well bred, with cowhorse on the sire's side, and running Paints on the Dam's side. The Cowboy-in-Law tells us that Doc O'Lena and Peppy San descendents are know for their speed, when asked, and for the ability to turn it off, when asked, which makes them ideal cutting horses. The owner feels that he has the potential to be an "all around" horse, and that he is willing to do what is asked of him. That's a trait I find appealing in a horse. Smokey, for all his quirks, has always been willing to do what is asked of him, even if he's not necessarily good at it, like cow work.

The owner needs to pair down to two horses, feels that he is the one most likely to sell, and is more concerned with finding him the right home than whether she makes a buck off him. She stated his biggest vice is that when he gets scared he spin and try to get away. Sounds like a certain Buckskin horse I know, so I don't find that too bothersome.

She's also willing to consider a short term care lease, so that I can be certain that he is the horse for me. I find that appealing, and a sign of honesty. I'm not a horse trader, and just as Smokey will live to the end of his days as "my horse", I'm looking for a horse to keep for the long haul. Conceivably, I could be riding "Kenny" until I'm in my 60's. She also wants to see the place he will be kept before letting him go.

This picture is from last year:

I feel a trip to Sequim coming on.

WAHSET Meet #1

2011-03-02T17:54:00.001-08:00

We trekked down to Ridgefield, WA late last week for our first ever Washington State High School Equestrian Team meet, at the Clark County Fairgrounds. This event comprises six high school teams, and well over one hundred riders. Riders participate in 5 individual events, and 5 team events, of their choice.

For the Thursday afternoon drive down, Ma Nature decided to bless us with a rare snow. As I posted on the FB, towing a horse trailer in a snowstorm was not on my bucket list. We encountered near white out conditions on two occasions. I didn't need to change my skivvies afterward, but there was a distinct crease in the drivers seat of the Excursion. Around milepost 86 on the five traffic slowed to a crawl. "Great", thought I, "we'll never get there." At milepost 78, the cause of the slowdown revealed itself. A big rig with it's trailer perpendicular across the road, front tires of the cab hanging over the embankment. I'm certain that driver needed to change his britches.

We were also blessed with a DAMN COLD weekend. We left the hotel early Friday morning, arriving at the the barn around 6am. The temperature peaked at around 32F that day.

Day 1 is chock full of events. DN3 participated in Showmanship, Stockseat, Huntseat, Barrel Racing, and Cattle Sorting. Her team finished Cattle Sorting at around 11:30 that evening. And the event was only half over.

This is the view that greeted us in the truck as we left:

Not as cold as a lot of places, I know, but after you've been out in it for 18 hours, layering notwithstanding, the bones are cold.

Day 2 consisted of Working Pairs, Canadian Flags, Figure 8, and Bi-Rangle. Working Pairs is a team event, 2 horses, 2 riders. They perform a pattern, set to music of their choice. Costumes are encouraged.

DN3 and her teammate SW choice "Kryptonite", by 3 Doors Down.

Appropriate costumes were donned:

On Sunday, the final day, temperature reached 37F. A heat wave, I tell you! The only event DN3 participated in that day was In Hand Obstacle Relay.

Despite the cold, it was a great weekend. DN3 had a wonderful time, never complained, and thanked us every step of the way. All the girls on her team are fabulous people. There was no bickering, and they all helped and cheered one another on.

Her placing were nothing to sneeze at either, if I may be permitted to brag on my child:

Showmanship - 1st
Stockseat - 5th
Huntseat - 2nd
Barrels - 25th (1.95 seconds separated her from 1st place)
Cattle Sorting - 18th
Working Pairs - 4th
Canadian Flags - 4th
Figure 8 - 27th
Bi-Rangle - 12th
In Hand Obstacle Relay - 4th.

Not a bad showing for her first time out, in my humble opinion.

What She Said.

2011-03-01T20:43:00.000-08:00

Because I'm suffering from my first bout of the crud in years, and my mucous filled head is exerting too much pressure on my brain to write.

Moral Dilemma

2011-02-28T19:29:00.001-08:00

RIP, Corporal Buckles

2011-02-28T19:17:00.000-08:00

The last surviving American veteran of the First World War I, joined his comrades yesterday.

I could only hope to be half the man he was.

Bailey Baroo

2011-02-22T20:49:00.000-08:00

I am known for, among other things, giving multiple nicknames to every member of my family, and every animal we've ever had. Each of my three daughter has no less than 5402 nicknames, and I can trace the origin of each. Just ask them, they'll tell you.

DN3's favorite horse is our mare Bailey. They have that bond that most riders only dream about.

I have always called that horse Bailey Baroo. And for years, my movie line deficient family has had no clue regarding the origin of said nickname. Tonight I finally let them in on the secret.

Free Horse

2011-02-22T18:51:00.000-08:00

I tried to avoid coloring the previous post with my own opinions. I received some good feedback, much of it in line with my own thoughts on the subject. Thanks to all who commented.

I'm not a stranger to "free" horses, having given away a mare two years ago. But I was absolutely transparent about why she was free. Something to do with the fact that her first instinct when I would plop my butt in the saddle was to rear up and dump yours truly in the dirt.

Regarding, "he is a beautiful, very unique horse with a strong personality and so, so smart." In all fairness, that could very well be a description of Smokey. While I'm not up for a bronc whose first instinct is to bolt, neither am I interested in a lackluster horse that doesn't require that I earn the right to ride. But, as WomanWhoRunsWithHorses pointed out, it could very well mean that the average rider doesn't stand a chance.

"Needs a job". I hear that line too often, and honestly find it to be horse pucky. I need a job, so that I can care for my family and own horses. Horses need to eat, drink, sleep and crap. It's just more likely that they will be able to do the first two if a human has them engaged in an activity.

I'm not too keen on taking a horse with "terms" either, unless it was a care lease situation. If it is for the purpose of ownership, once I take the horse, transfer the registration, and start bearing the cost of upkeep, the seller doesn't, in my opinion, have any say in the matter. I'm good with permitting first right of refusal on a horse, but that's about where it ends. I'm not obligated to keep anyone informed of his progress. Except, maybe, for Mrs. BR. And all my readers. And family and friends. Well, you get the idea.

I have mixed feelings with regard to the lesson with the trainer. This can be helpful in learning what cues the particular horse has been taught, as opposed to spending time experimenting. On the other hand...

There is no certification process to become a horse trainer. Heck, I could hang a shingle out claiming to be to be such, convince some hapless victims that I know what I doing, and voila!

I've met a few "(insert big name trainer here) certified" trainers whom I wouldn't let train a stuffed animal, let alone a horse. I even find some of the Big Name Trainers to be a tad on the hokey side. But that's another post. And while I subscribe to the "Natural Horsemanship" idea, the phrase seems to be getting a bit worn out.

At 14.2 HH, he's also a bit on the short side for my tastes.

In closing, I'm going to let this marinate. The family BR will be in Vancouver, WA this weekend for the first High School Equestrian Team meet of the year, so there's no time for looking at horses for at least a week and half. If he's still on the market, I might take a trek to Olympia for a looksee, since it's only an hour south of here.

Thoughts, anyone?

2011-02-21T12:00:00.000-08:00

Via Craigslist, a free* Buttermilk Buckskin. As many of you know, I have a special spot in my heart for Buckskin colored horses.

Free horses can raise flags to the horse shopper, but in today's market, an average, healthy, yet unremarkable horse is difficult to sell at best. Sellers who hold out for a certain price usually spend more money keeping the horse than they ultimately make at the time of sale.

I am looking, albeit half heartedly, for another horse. No, not to replace Smokey, who I feel has at least another good three or four years left in him. I'm looking for the horse to bring up behind him when he is ready or retirement, to further challenge my riding abilities, and to carry my luggage and groceries on pack trips.

I'm in no rush, however, and I feel that the right horse will appear at the right time.

*Most horse owners will tell you that a "free" horse really isn't. While you may not pay any money up front, these four legged hay processing plants will cost you in feed, vet bills, and hoof care, at a minimum.

Customer Service Strikes Again, Part II

2011-02-12T08:13:00.000-08:00

I received a new email from the previously offending saddle shop yesterday. It read, in part, "We received the choc/black on our truck yesterday, so I will send the one you ordered." I also received shipping information for the pad and cinch. So, I guess, all is right in the world again. I'm remotely curious as to how it went from not available until the end of the month, to be shipped yesterday, but not curious enough to actually ask.

I'm mildly disappointed that they didn't throw me a consolatory bone, like free shipping. However, the fact remains that their price for the pad is $30 cheaper than anyone else. This also the only less than pleasant experience I've had with these folks, so I consider it to be a one off. And, as WomanWhoRunsWithHorses pointed out in the previous comments, the weather down that way has been none to hospitable.

If this is the worst the week had to offer, then I daresay all is right with the world.

Customer Service Strikes Again

2011-02-10T19:00:00.000-08:00

On Jan. 29th, I placed an internet order for a new saddle pad and cinch with a well known saddle shop based in Texas. I subsequently received an email acknowledging the order, which also stated that tracking information would be sent to me at the time of shipment. As of Feb. 4th, no such information had been received. I sent an email informing them of this fact. No reply was received.

I contacted them again yesterday. Here is the reply I received this morning:

"We apologize for the delay in your order. Due to weather conditions, we have been unable to ship or receive. The pad that you ordered is not available until the end of this month. Wrangler does not have any in stock and is waiting on material. I can send you a different pattern, or if you prefer to wait, I can have them ship as soon as it is available."

Really??? It took twelve days in the internet age to inform me of this?? And the pad I ordered is out of stock?? Then why was I able to order it?? Oh, and by the way, the pad isn't made by Wrangler, it's made by Professional's Choice!!!!

Immediately after reading the email, every fiber in my being was screaming at me to pick up the phone, call them, and unleash the retired Master Chief on someone. But, clearly I'm getting soft. After talking myself off the ledge, I replied with "Thank you for the information. Is the pad available in Tan/Black, size 34"x36"? If so, that would be an acceptable replacement. If it isn't available, then I would like to cancel the order."

Of course, I haven't received a reply. I suspect that will take another twelve days.

If You Text and Drive...

2011-02-06T19:28:00.000-08:00

Stop. Before it's too late.

Arena Etiquette

2011-02-05T20:42:00.000-08:00

Arena Etiquette goes into play the moment more than one horse and rider are present in an arena. This is a set of written or unwritten rules which are, or at least should be, more common sense than anything. Ride in the same direction. Don't cut someone off. Don't stop abruptly, or back up without looking back first. Slower riders to the inside. The bottom line is safety for both horse and rider. The more horses in an arena, the more important this becomes.

At organized events, be it shows, western gaming, cow sorting, or what have you, there is invariably a "warm up ring". This tends to be a smaller arena, and soon becomes a teeming mass of horseflesh. Invariably, one or two riders enter the fray who are seemingly unaware that they are not alone. They cut in front of others, stop without so much as a "howdy do", and suddenly back their horse without warning. Throw in the newbie rider with no control of a psycho horse they've been "given", shake well, and you can imagine the impending disaster brewing. Oftentimes the ring announcer can be heard bleating something over the PA about safety in the practice arena, but of course, the only folks that hear and heed these announcements are those of us who are already riding safely. Apparently poor riding skills are accompanied by hearing loss.

I make it a point to clear out once the situation begins to approach critical mass, but on at least one occasion, I've made it clear to another that if they cut me off again, things probably won't end well. I have a limited amount of patience, and I'll be darned if I'm going to use it up on people who aren't worthy.

Some horses don't have patience for this either, which presents a whole new set of hazards. During a 4H clinic last year, one of the girls in our club was riding Smokey. Another horse kept riding up on Old Joe and bumping. Now, if Smokey were human, he'd be the guy holding the M1 saying "get off my lawn." He is not particularly fond of other horses, particularly when they are behaving badly. After being bumped twice, he had had his fill.

The third time the offending horse rode up on him, the scene began to unfold as if in slow motion. Subtly, Smokey turned his head to look at Mr. Bumper Car. His pace slowed, his left hip moving ever so slightly to the inside of the arena. Realizing what was about to happen, Mrs. BR began yelling at the girl riding him to watch out, but Paulhamus Arena is rather large, so it's doubtful that she was heard. The distance closed. Smokey cocked his leg, and, at precisely the right moment, kicked out.

Whether he connected or not is up for debate, as the scuffle was over as quickly as it began, with no apparent injury inflicted. However, it could have easily ended in injury to horse or rider, simply because one rider didn't have the good sense to steer her horse clear of the others.

I suspect, that among my readers who ride, I'm preaching to the choir. And of course, oblivious people exist in all facets of life, not just in the warmup arena.

I've Been Awarded!

2011-01-28T18:12:00.000-08:00

Thank you to Dock Start at Adventures in Colt (Filly) Starting and Rebecca at There's a Horse Outside My Window, who both felt that my blog was worthy of an award. Or perhaps they were running short on newly discovered blogs to share ;)

I've been dragging my feet a bit on this one, but in the spirit of things, I'll get on board.

There are rules that go along with this award:
1.Thank and link back to the person who awarded you this award
2. Share 7 things about yourself
3.Award 15 recently discovered great bloggers
4.Contact these bloggers and tell them about the award!

1. I'm fiercely proud of being an American.

2. I like to read. My preferred genre is history, primarily the Second World War, but I look forward to Clive Cussler's latest Dirk Pitt novels.

3. If a friend needs a favor, I will help out without question. But, I will never ask anyone for help. I'm just funny that way.

4. If someone had told me six years ago that horses would be a large part of my life, I would have laughed them out of the room. Now I cannot imagine a life without them.

5. I used to be extremely introverted. I'm still not very adept at making small talk if common ground for a conversation can't be found, but I'm no longer the quiet guy in the corner.

6. I'm nostalgic. I sometimes wish I had been born to an earlier era. Not because I think life was better, but rather because it was simpler.

7. I think that riding a horse at a dead run is the most fun you can have with your clothes on.

Fifteen recently discovered blogs:

1. Spotty Horse News.
2. A Year With Horses.
3. Andy's Place.
4. Full of Love and Life.
5. Kat's Scribbles.
6. Murphy and Other Stories.
7. Observations of an Okie Biker.
8. Rockbottom.
9. When it Strikes Me.
10. Hoof 'n Barrel.
11. Life at Sweetpea's Heaven.
12. A Filly's Best Friend.
13. On a Chicken Wing and a Prayer.
14. Innominatus.
15. MiKael's Mania.

Whew! One less thing to procrastinate on.

Random Stuff

2011-01-27T19:09:00.000-08:00

At the weekly Backcountry Horsemen meeting last night, the comment was made (in reference to a local tack shop) that we should shop local, because if we don't, they soon won't be there, and we'll have no choice but to shop online.

I've been thinking about this, and too be quite honest, I'm a bit torn. Shopping is generally not high on my funmeter, except at Cabela's or Big J's. Shopping online saves me time, gas, and usually money, as I can find better prices. But, I must admit, there are times when I want to be able to hold something in my hand before making the decision to buy it. And, at least where the tack store in question is concerned, it's too small and jam packed, rarely has anything I'm looking for, is overpriced, and, by the way, the proprietor is an asshole. Doesn't make me want to stop in.

Mike's Western, in Enumclaw, is a little better. It's still too small and crowded, but Mike, who is a good old boy from Texas, knows where everything is, and if he doesn't have it, he can get it. His prices are fair, and generally negotiable. He recognizes you when you come in, and will take time to shoot the breeze.

So, I guess for me, the decision to shop local or online boils down to the experience. Your mileage may vary.

Speaking of tack, I picked up two new pieces of tack at the gun show, of all places. One is a leather scabbard that fits a scoped rifle. It's clearly seen use, as the leather is soft and well broke in. It's in excellent condition, and I talked the seller out of it for 40 bucks. Brand new, it would have been at least $125 or better.

The other item I picked up is a 1957 Marlin 336 RC chambered in 30-30. What's that? You don't think it qualifies as tack? Pshaw! Mrs. BR and the daughters buy fancy show tack and clothes, but my idea of tack merely takes another form. Besides, I've been jonesing to get my greasy mitts on one of these classics for awhile, and this one is in better condition than most of the newer ones that were for sale, and the price was better. So there!

I rode a different horse tonight. Our friend B is away at college, and her gelding, X, hasn't been getting much saddle time. She's happy to let us use him, and, since I am considering care leasing him come Spring, I need to test him out. X is a Morgan-something or the other cross. I think he is eight. I decided to give him a go tonight. DN3 suggested that I longe him first. To which suggestion I cast a rather baleful look. While I don't criticize the activity, it just isn't something I do. I want to saddle up and get to gettin'.

She made the point, however, that he hadn't been getting much exercise, so I said, fine, have at it. It was quite the show, with X looking more like a bucking bronc than a saddle horse. It did give me pause to question whether this was a good idea, but having seen him under saddle on numerous occasions, I knew all would be well. He was being a bit lazy, and, I suspect, testing me out. Once he realized that I had a clue, he became very responsive. His trot is a bit rough, but he has a nice lope.

I want to work him back into shape, and then try him out on some trail rides. If that works out, I'll probably lease him, and train him to carry a pack saddle. I'm excited about the prospect.

What He Said...

2011-01-23T21:30:00.000-08:00

Dude nails it. (Bad word alert).

I tried to embed the video, but it wasn't working.

No...Just No. Not Ever.

2011-01-21T11:50:00.000-08:00

Watch it full screen to get the true effect.

I got vertigo just watching this.

Just Because...

2011-01-20T18:04:00.000-08:00

It combines two of my favorite things...a good Western and Tom Petty's music.

Can a Horse Have a Case of "Ants in the Pants"?

2011-01-20T17:20:00.000-08:00

The farrier was out last night to trim and shoe Smokey and Leo. Now, being nearly 22 years old, Smokey has had his fit trimmed and shod and times, I suspect. Rough math yields an estimate of 120 to 140 times. One would think he'd have it down by now.

He is usually well behaved, unless it takes too long, and then he gets a ornery, jerking his feet away, and, on two occasions, kicking the farrier. I guess age makes a fella impatient.

Our regular farrier is out of commission, with an injured hand, so his partner Jerry came out to do the job, which is of no concern, as he does good work.

I don't know what was wrong with Smokey last night, but he was a complete imbecile. He would not stand still, was constantly snorting and blowing, showing the whites of eyes, and spooking at every little thing, even the barn cats cats. Talk about a moving target. Jerry was really earning his keep, and didn't appear to be the least bit bothered by it.

Right up until Smokey knocked him over, that is. He was on the last foot, right hand, when he went sailing across the barn. He was allright, but I can assure you that Smokey got a butt whupin' after that. Enough was enough. Jerry insists that Smokey did not kick him, but rather pushed him. I'm not convinced that he wasn't just being gracious. He didn't charged me extra, and assured me he would come back next time.

I'm not really certain what was wrong with Mr. Fidgety Horse. Admittedly, the barn was a bit busier than usual, with people, horses, the tractor, and cars coming and going. Still, these aren't things that normally agitate him. It was a clear night, with full moon. Maybe he's a Werehorse.

Needless to say, he's going to spend some time in the round pen before his next shoeing.

Ruger Super Blackhawk - First Assessment

2011-01-18T19:27:00.000-08:00

I took the new revolver to the range on Sunday for its maiden voyage. I started with the target at 5 yards, just to check the sights, firing 240 grain, jacketed hollow points.

That hole in the center of the target? That was the first shot. No kidding. I have witnesses. Of course, as you can see, it went downhill after that. I consistently shot low and to the right through the rest of the session. Some sight adjustment will be necessary.

As you can see, there's a touch of recoil. Once I relaxed and let myself roll with it, my accuracy improved.

I previously mentioned that I had fired my Brother-in-Laws Super Blackhawk a few weeks ago. There are two differences between the individual revolvers. Mine has a 5.5" barrel, and his a 7.5" barrel. His also has Pachmayr Decelerator grips, while mine has the factory grips.

Assessment: I like this revolver. It's definitely a keeper. However, while the wood grips are very pleasing to the eye, they are a bit on the short side. Half of my pinky hangs below the grip, and the corner of the butt digs into it during the recoil. As the Pachmayr grips are longer, they will solve this problem. I did buy it for function, not form, after all.

Here We Go Again

2011-01-16T07:26:00.001-08:00

I wish the housing market would hurry up and recover, so we could sell this place and move to higher ground. Fat chance, I suppose...

Heh!

2011-01-14T20:53:00.001-08:00

Lions, and Tigers, and Bears.

2011-01-14T19:16:00.000-08:00

I've mentioned that I have encountered two black bears while riding in the hinterlands. In two minutes. Yes, the two were within 100 yards of one another. A wee bit unnerving.

While black bear attacks are fairly rare, they can and do happen. According to these statistics, sixteen fatal encounters with black bears occurred in the last decade. I wasn't able to drum up stats for non-fatal attacks, but they do happen. Grizzlies are also starting to migrate south from Canada into the Pasayten Wilderness area of Washington, an area I hope to ride in someday. Fatal encounters with grizzlies seem to be few and far between, but I have no desire to be one of the unfortunate souls who do comprise the statistics.

Mountain Lions are also present in this area. I know of two experienced outdoorsmen who have been stalked by mountain lions, an experience neither cares to repeat.

Many hikers, backpackers, and trail riders carry bear bells and/or bear spray to ward off Ursus arctos horriblis, ursus americanus, and puma concolor, which is all fine and dandy, I suppose. As for me, should an encounter with one of these predators turn sideways, I want to know that there is more between than an aerosol can, harsh words, and sleigh bells standing between me and death by mauling. But that's just me. Therefore, I pack a sidearm.

Revolvers are my weapon of choice. They do not jam, and should a misfire occur, simply move to the next chamber. Up til now, I have carried a S&W Model 19 chambered in .357. This is a wonderful, well balanced revolver.

I tend to spend a great deal of time doing research on activities that I participate in. I like to be well educated. In the area of wilderness defense, said research led me to the realization that my .357 would be adequate against a two legged varmint, and passable against a mountain lion. Against a bear, however, it would likely serve only to further anger the aggressor.

Bear defense is best performed with a big bore, short barreled rife. Think Marlin Guide Gun chambered in 45-70. A portable cannon, which is not for the faint of heart. Realizing the impracticality of that option, most experts agree that the next best choice is a large caliber revolver chambered in .44 magnum, .45 Long Colt, or larger, if you dare. Semi-automatic pistols, such as the .45, are not preferable due to the slower velocities of these rounds.

When reading about the .44 magnum, I kept finding the statement "for those who can manage the recoil". This makes it sound a tad fearsome for the handler, no? Since I'm not the biggest fella on the block, I though perhaps this wasn't the round for me. But, proof is better than speculation, so I borrowed my Brother-in-Laws Ruger Blackhawk, purchased a box of ammo, and headed to the range. Fifty rounds later, I left saying "I gotta have one of these." Very manageable recoil.

I am now the proud owner of this beauty:

Ruger New Model Blackhawk in .44 magnum. I chose the stainless steel, since, well, it rains in these parts once in awhile (read: most of the time). It's single action, meaning one has to cock the hammer before firing, but I did that on my double action revolver too. It makes for less trigger pull, and greater accuracy. I admit I was initially skeptical about the "cowboy" style handle, but this pistol feels absolutely perfect in my hand.

There is one other reason for horse riders to carry a firearm, which I have mentioned before. Should a horse break a leg out in the boonies, there are few practical options available. None of us ever want to be in that situation, but it can, and does happen. I have heard one gruesome story o how this was dealt with when no gun was available. I'll spare you, but suffice it to say that the teller of this tale has never ridden unarmed since.

Back to Our Regularly Scheduled Programming.

2011-01-14T18:41:00.000-08:00

I've sat down several times this week with every intention of posting. I have a subject at hand, some good thoughts, and then...I stare at the screen and the words aren't there. Blogger's block?

Why we start a blog is probably as varied as we are as individuals. How many of us start, convinced that no one will read, let alone comment? Then we find ourselves pleasantly surprised when we develop a small band of followers. As we read each others writings, we branch out, and find ourselves reading in the same circles. These people, most of whom we are unlikely to ever meet, become friends. We share thoughts, experiences, opinions, gripes, and moans. Stories about ourselves, our families, our passions.

When certain of the folks on my blogroll haven't posted in awhile, I find myself concerned for their well being. This is followed by relief when a new post appears. Is that strange.

I sometimes feel as though I am obligated to post. I realize the foolishness of this though, but it is present nonetheless. Once apologies are offered for the dearth of posts, readers are are quick to let one know that it's no big deal, and they will be there when the blogging resumes. I know that I have made that very statement on a multitude of occasions, with the utmost sincerity.

Even with that knowledge, I feel that I must blog. "I owe it to my readers," I tell myself. "Post something, anything." My mind is full of topics. While driving to and from work, the prose flows in my thoughts. But as I stare at the screen, my brain becomes like a just shaken Etch a Sketch. Blank.

Hic quoque transibit.

On another front, I've been called many things in my life, by many people. Some true, others, well...probably true. To this list can be added the the fact that I have recently been referred to as "eye candy".

Hmmm. Today is my forty-fifth birthday. Maybe there is something to this getting older thing. Just sayin'.

I'm Seeing Red Right Now, So I Don't Have a Good Title For This Post.

2011-01-09T20:39:00.000-08:00

On the surface, I tend to have a rather dim view of my fellow humans. I often feel that I wouldn't piss on most people even if they were on fire. Now, that may be rather pessimistic, and, truth be told, deep down I believe there is more good in the world than evil.

Still, sometimes it's hard to tell.

"True Grit"

2011-01-01T21:40:00.000-08:00

Mrs. BR took me to see True Grit this evening.

If you like westerns, even if only a little, then this movie is worth seeing. The acting is superb. You forget that you are watching Jeff Bridges and Matt Damon. And Hailee Steinfeld, in her first movie role, plays Mattie Ross. This young lady gives a top notch performance and holds her own amongst some big names. I daresay she has a promising career ahead of her.

The serious drama is interspersed with well delivered, dead pan humor. I won't give any spoilers, just a positive recommendation.

I give this movie 4 horseshoes out of a possible 4.

Happy New Year, and More Eagles

2011-01-01T10:10:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year, everyone!

Last Thursday dawned cool and clear, with a light dusting of Winter Wonderland thrown in overnight by Mother Nature.

Smokey and I went Eagle watching again, and while out on the river, we ran into our friend Vicki, who was photographing these majestic symbols of our great country. She has captured some amazing photos, and posted them on FB. As they are far superior to any that I have taken, I have, with her permission, borrowed some of them to post here for those of you not fortunate enough to have Eagles in your backyard.

I wish I could get pictures that were half that good. She also took a couple good photos of my horse:

Trial By Fire

2010-12-28T21:46:00.000-08:00

Smokey and I went out eagle watching again today. Well, I went out eagle watching. Smokey was not so interested, preferring to provide constant reminders that we really should be headed back to the barn.

I shot a brief video. Skip to about 1:30.

Some folks had set up an impromptu firing range on their property just off the levee. We had passed them earlier, so I had a pretty good idea what was coming. Poor old Smokey was more startled than anything, but had no desire to hang around. When I watched the video afterward, I must confess that I got a good laugh out of watching the old boys ears going into "high speed radar" mode.

I guess Cowboy Action Shooting may not be for us.

Both of my readers may be tired of my posts about the eagles, but it's my blog, and I doubt that I will ever tire of them. Click to enlarge.

Six in one tree. How cool is that?

Predator on the Trail

2010-12-27T16:24:00.001-08:00

In the early afternoon of Christmas Eve, with Mrs. BR out for last minute shopping, and DN3 helping her Grandmother bake pies, I concluded that there could be no better way to spend the afternoon that a ride out along the Puyallup River levee. Things were quiet and uneventful until Smokey pulled up to a stop, head high, and ears forward. I scanned the trail ahead, and peered into the brush trying to discern the source of his concern. Seeing nothing obvious, I prodded my trusty steed forward.

He would have none of it, choosing rather to whirl and attempt to bolt in the other direction. With some pressure on the reins, and a well applied spur, I reminded him who was in charge of steering. Or so I thought. More whirling and twirling. Realizing that I would have none of it, he resorted to backing down the trail. To correct this, I turned him 360 degrees.

Finally I was able to get some forward momentum. The horse moved slowly, head craning toward the source of his fear. When, suddenly, something leapt out of the brush at us. Thinking quickly, I reached for the Iphone, and snapped a picture of the ferocious beast.

Yep, that's a log. Pretty scary isn't it? I took him out again today, and returned to the scene of Friday's attack. He walked past it without notice. I will never completely understand this horse.

I counted 36 eagles in a two mile stretch of the river today. I snapped this shot of one that was no more than 20 feet above us.

I'm going to borrow my father's Nikon, and take a hike out there, so that I can get better photos of these majestic birds.

The Night Before Christmas

2010-12-24T09:10:00.000-08:00

I hope this post finds each of you well and happy, in your own ways. Be you Christian or otherwise, I would like to wish all of you a Merry Christmas.

I haven't had much to post about this month. Or time for that matter. I've worked many a long hour this month. That isn't a complaint, as I have a great job at an amazing company. I started vacation Wednesday afternoon, through the end of this year, so time for a little R&R. I rode the horse yesterday, the third time this month, and probably only the fifth or sixth time that I had even laid eyes on him.

I seem to be suffering an inexplicable bout of the humbugs this year. The Christmas season has always been one of my favorite times of the year. I have fond memories of Christmas from my childhood, and while our three daughters were growing up. I am a Christian, but have always bought into the Santa Claus myth, for the symbol of hope that he represents. The thought St. Nick always brought hope and excitement to a young BR, and certainly to my own children. None of them were devastated when the truth was learned, and they even helped to perpetuate the belief for their younger siblings. Of course, now that our youngest is 16, the Santa Claus aspect is no longer part of the picture.

This past summer, two of our daughters, and one dog, moved out, ready to make their own way in the world. The house is much quieter these days. That comes as a mixed blessing, and perhaps plays into my lack of Christmas spirit. I haven't spent a great deal of time analyzing it, and don't plan to, but I do hope this to be a one off year.

From the ages of 4 thru 8, I lived with my paternal Grandparents, who were the two greatest people I have had the privilege of knowing. When the Christmas decorations were brought out each year, a book which contained an illustrated version of Clement Clark Moore (or Henry Livingston, but that's a story for another day) came out with them. To this day, I can remember the texture of the book, and the illustrations contained within. And the way the story made me feel when my Grandmother would read it to me. It is the only poem that I can recite from memory.

So without further babbling on my part:

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,

In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;

And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,

Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,

Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow

Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.

More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!

On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!

To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!

Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,

When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,

So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,

With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof

The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.

As I drew in my head, and was turning around,

Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,

And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;

A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.

His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!

His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,

And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,

And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;

He had a broad face and a little round belly,

That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,

And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,

Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,

And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,

And laying his finger aside of his nose,

And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,

"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."

In The "No Good Deed Goes Unpunished" Category

2010-12-18T09:25:00.000-08:00

We have this story.

Napoleon complex much?

Pineapple Express Update

2010-12-13T07:57:00.001-08:00

We dodged the bullet here in my little town. Other folks in the region weren't so lucky.

The Pineapple Express Has Arrived

2010-12-12T09:20:00.000-08:00

The Pacific Northwest gets hit with the "Pineapple Express" about every other year. This results in a deluge of rain, and warm weather. It was 59F at 8am this morning. This results in the the snow level increasing to 7000ft. The problem lies in the fact that the rain melts the snow below this level, causing the threat of flooding for the multitude of rivers in Western Washington.

Two years ago, our town was evacuated. It's surprising how quickly 95% of your possessions can be relegated to the category of "it's just stuff", and left behind. Evacuating with two Alaskan Malamutes, a fat cat, and half a dozen horses adds to the complexity. But, with help, we managed. The town didn't flood, but only for the Grace of God.

I don't think the current frog strangler washing through the area is as bad as Jan. 2009, but one never knows what Mother Nature has in store for us.

So far, levels have stayed below predicted values. I'm keeping my fingers crossed, but not burying my head.

Horses and Wildlife

2010-12-05T19:46:00.000-08:00

In the comment thread of the previous post, Kris made the statement "Can't imagine the closeness you must experience on a horse."

That comment highlights something that I've noticed while riding horseback. I've experienced more, and closer, encounters with wildlife traveling on a horse, as opposed to hiking on foot. Deer, elk, and black bears seem to react differently to the horses . I've stared a blacktail deer down on the trail not 20 feet in front, while we both waited for the other to get off the trail. I watched a young bull elk parallel us on the trail. When riding in the Alpine Lakes Wilderness last September, we got closer to Mule Deer does and fawns than I would have ever imagined. Rather than getting spooked and hightailing it out of there, they would just watch us pass by. I did try to take several photos, but was rather amazed at how well they blend into there surroundings, as few off the photos turned out very well.

The black bear encounter was a bit unique. My nephew and I were riding on a logging road. Coming around a bend, we spotted a bear in the road, about 50 yds away. It was just watching us. As black bears can run very fast for a short distances, we stopped, dismounted, and unholstered our sidearms. After a few moments, the bear turned and ambled off the road. We waited a bit, and chose to walk past the area, leading the horses on a foot. Not two minutes past this sighting, we found another bear walking towards us. It initially showed no sign of stopping, which, I'm here to tell you, can get the adrenalin running. Suddenly he stopped, as if just noticing us, and twirling in a cloud of dust jumped off the trail. Encounter over.

Later on we were kicking ourselves for not getting photos. However, the cameras in our saddle bags were not in the forefront of our minds at the time.

Do wild animals react differently to the presence of horses than they do to lone humans? Or is it my imagination? Despite the fact that two legged varmints are still present, my experience, albeit it limited, leads to believe it is the former.

The other noteworthy fact is the reaction of my horse. He has never batted an eye during any of these encounters. This is the same horse that will jump sideways 10 feet sideways at the sight of a blue tarp or orange traffic cone. But he's not afraid of a bear? Go figure.

The Eagles are Landing

2010-12-04T20:01:00.001-08:00

"If I lay really still, maybe he won't see me."

Today's weather was cool, crisp, and rain free. Tired of arena work, I took Smokey out on a solo ride along the Puyallup River levee. The ride was remarkable only in that it was unremarkable, so I won't bore you with the details.

Each year around this time, eagles descend upon the rivers of Western Washington to feed upon the remains of spawned out salmon. Some folks pay money to take river trips to view these majestic creatures. I need merely ride along the river for this privilege.

One of the first arrivals was roosting in a tree above the trail this afternoon. The picture isn't that great, as I was armed with only the cell phone camera.

I'll take a better camera camera out when more of them are in town.

Cow On!

2010-11-30T20:14:00.000-08:00

On Sunday, we took DN3 to the Tacoma Unit for cow sorting. She joined the High School Equestrian Team this year, and sorting is one of the team events, so practice is needed. For this event, she is riding our mare Bailey, who, with Poco Bueno on her papers, is cow horse through and through. The horse enjoys it, and knows her business.

Cow sorting is an event which consists of two round pens connected together, ten numbered cows, two horses, and two riders. The object is to move the cows in numerical order from one pen to the other within a specified time period (usually 60 or 90 seconds). If a cow should slip through out of order, it is considered a "dirty cow" and ends the run. Moving all ten in order before time is up is the ultimate goal, but getting five clean cows beats having a dirty one slip through.

The riders take turns cutting the next cow out of the herd. When not cutting a cow out, the other rider acts as "turnback", preventing dirty cows from slipping through. On one of her runs, DN3 and the guy she was riding with moved all ten cows before the clock run out, with all cows being clean. There time earned them second place in the novice division.

I took Smokey along, just to get him out, and had no intention of working the cows. The last time I tried it was about four years ago, and frankly, I wasn't worth a darn. The fact that I barely knew how to ride at the time may have been a factor. Regardless, it didn't pique my interest, so I never gave it a second thought.

Through a certain chain of events, I was talked into signing up for a few "goes" in the green novice division. While Smokey isn't a cow horse, he is willing to try. Mrs. BR has had some success on him in the past.

My first two runs ended rather quickly, with one of those darn dirty cows sneaking past either me or my partner.

My third, and final run was with DN3.

That's 9, count 'em, nine clean cows. We timed out before the tenth cow, but I'm not complaining. We were both pretty stoked. Oh, and we earned second place in the green novice division. Not bad for a half Thoroughbred Quarter Horse with a hack rider, if I do say so myself.

I might have to try this again.

Happy Thanksgiving!

2010-11-25T10:06:00.000-08:00

I hope today finds you all safe, and that you have the chance to enjoy time with friends and family.

Rats...Part II

2010-11-24T10:42:00.000-08:00

Monday lived up to my expectations. Snow in this region is a rarity, especially this early in the year. And, invariably, the last few have hit in the middle of the work day. The mad rush to get home before it gets worse begins, and soon the streets are jammed with desperate commuters. The snow gets packed into ice, and before long the streets are blocked with vehicles which have lost all traction and spun out. King County Metro's famed articulated buses begin articulate at the wrong times as the bus slides across the ice, soon blocking multiple lanes where it comes to a rest. Throw in a few questionable decisions by WSDOT, and soon the entire Puget Sound Region is gridlocked.

I left work at 3:30, hoping for the best. By 5pm, despite attempting several routes, I was little over a mile away from work, which meant that I had another 32 miles left to cover. I leave you to do the math. Throwing in the towel, I turned around, and went back. Better to be productive there, than idling in the pickup. Shortly after I arrived, a co-worker showed up, having arrived at the same conclusion.

DN1 works in Seattle. She gave up trying to get home, and headed to spend the night at the home of a friend who lives near where she works. She was involved in a minor 5 car fender bender. No one was hurt, no one got mad, and the Police Officer who responded declared that no one was at fault. It was just time, place, and circumstance.

Andy, who lives in Seattle, got into a minor scrape himself. He has an excellent take on the experience.

At 10pm, I decided to give it another go. I find myself stuck in Renton briefly, but after a quick map review, I negotiated some side streets to an arterial road which was only lightly populated.

I arrived home shortly before midnight. Well worth the wait.

It should be noted that the 1999 Ford F150 is quite the snow machine. Put it in 4 High, and did not slip, slide, or slither once. Everyone should have one.

The commute on Tuesday was a breeze, as many folks chose to stay home.

There, are, of course, the folks who are up in arms over the gridlock. "How could this happen?" they wail. "Why didn't somebody do something?" they bemoan.

To me, it's just a day in the life. One long night is not the end of the world. If this is the worst I experience, then it will have been a very good week. Other parts of the world get far worse than this, so we have nothing to complain about in our neck of the woods.

I did find it to be bit nippy last night, though.

Rats...

2010-11-22T15:03:00.000-08:00

Taken 4 hours ago

Because people in this part of the country can't drive...especially if the sun is out (it gets in there eyes), or if it's raining (slick roads).

So just throw a little snow in the mix, and guess what you get. I'm having a hard time getting interested in leaving work today.

Rainy Day Blues

2010-11-19T20:05:00.001-08:00

I rode tonight, the first time since Sunday. This gap is due in part to some long work days early in the week. I get up at 4:15 am, so getting home at 8pm leaves little time to do anything but rustle up some chow, and head back to bed for the purpose of repeating the it all again the next day. Not that I'm complaining. I work for an amazing company, and if long days are occasionally required to get things done, then sign me up. Besides, the building never goes to sea.

But there were a couple nights where I could have, no, should have ridden. But I just couldn't muster up the motivation.

This is not my favorite time of year. The Pacific Northwest has a well deserved reputation for rainy, dreary days. Not seeing the sun for weeks on end doesn't bother me. I spent many years at sea aboard submarines, after all. It's not even the rain really. I've ridden in the rain. Filson Tin Chaps and a good poncho will get the job done.

The thing that drags me down and demotivates me is this: In the past few years I've grown increasingly intolerant of being cold. Call me a weenie if you will, but it is a simple fact. I've found ways to keep my torso, legs, and melon warm (Under Armour Coldgear and Rivers West are perhaps the greatest things since sliced bread). But keeping my hands and feet warm has proven to be a bit more challenging. If either get too cold, I'm done. Stick a fork in me, I'm not enjoying myself anymore.

Cotton roping gloves have proven to be the trick to keep my hands warm, at least when riding in the covered arena. They keep my hands just warm enough, without removing the "feel" that I want when the reins are in my hand.

Finding riding boots that will keep the lower set of phalanges warm has proven to be more challenging. There seems to be a dearth of insulated, stirrup friendly boots on the market. But, heark! All is not lost. It would that at least one bootmaker has recognized an unfilled niche. I'm hoping that Santa Claus will leave a pair of these under the tree this year.

Don't get me wrong, there are things that I like about this time of year. To wit:

"Liquid Goodness Since 1982"

Overheard at the Arena

2010-11-17T19:26:00.001-08:00

Mrs. BR: "These are pleasure horses, they aren't supposed to go fast."

Me: "What's the point of horses that don't go fast? Madness!"

Just sayin'.

Did Anyone Get The Number Of That Bus?

2010-11-17T17:30:00.000-08:00

This past weekend, the annual Washington State Horsemen (WSH) Convention was held in Ellensburg. I drove over for Saturday's meeting of the Gaming Division, to keep up on the rule changes, and renew my judges card.

Part of this was election of officers. After voting for existing posts was completed, it was announced that a new position had been created, West Side Vice Chairman. Brittany, from my group (Puget Sound Zone), shouted, "I nominate Dave!" The words were barely out of her mouth when Patty, from the Canal Zone chimed in with "I think Dave should do it". Was that two buses?

The vote was unanimous, and before I really knew what happened, I was a sitting officer of the division.

Of course, I didn't put up a struggle. As many of you are aware, I enjoy Western Gaming. I also believe in the philosophy of "put up or shut up". A few years back, before I became a member, WSH gaming in western WA ceased to exist. I'm told this was due to various disagreement's and infighting. Whatever. There is a strong push to revive the event on this side, but it won't happen if there aren't people willing to step up and make it happen. We have a good group of people over here, and I know we will make it happen.

Lost With All Hands

2010-11-12T14:04:00.000-08:00

I missed this on Wednesday.

On November 10, 1975, while plying the waters of Lake Superior, the SS Edmund Fitgerald sank. 29 mariners perished with her.

Never forget.

In Rememberance

2010-11-11T08:52:00.000-08:00

The holiday we know as Veteran's Day originated as Armistice Day, in commemoration of the cessation of hostilities during World War I.

In Flanders Fields
By: Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918)
Canadian Army

In Flanders Fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

In Flanders fields.

Thank you to all my fellow Veteran's...past, present, and future.

Based On a True Story

2010-11-10T19:23:00.000-08:00

It's been my experience that there are several indicators of an impending tall tale, which is based in little, if any, fact. Instead, the product will be based almost entirely on the imagination of the teller.

One sure sign is a Sailor opening a story with "This is no shit...". I also have it on good faith from Gordon that this applies when an Airmen begins with "There I was...".

In my humble opinion, another clear warning of malarkey on the horizon are the words "Based Upon a True Story" appearing in the opening credits of a Hollywood product. Too often, the movie is then presumed to be "fact", which can result in some unfortunate opinions developing. This is often true of movies which depict the Armed Services of the United States in an unfavorable light. There are factions in Hollywood who view the military as little more than the imperialistic arm of our government, populated with unthinking, uncaring goons. They will leap at any money making opportunity to discredit us.

My last post mentioned the deactivation of the cavalry. This resulted in a couple comments evoking the movie "In Pursuit of Honor". The gist of the movie is that in 1934 the cavalry is becoming mechanized, and the cavalry units have been ordered to destroy there horses. A small band of soldiers rebels against this orders, driving a of remount horses to safety in Canada.

While long on story, it would appear that the movie is extremely short on facts. I found a host of information online that repudiates the story. The best researched example I came across is In Defense of Honor: General Douglas MacArthur and the Horse Cavalry of 1934, by Bob Seals.

Cavalrymen had a very special relationship with their horses, and I find it unbelievable that these soldiers would have ordered or participated in the massacre of their trusted steeds. The horses were considered to be soldiers every bit as much as their human counterparts, even having their own unique rank structure. I have read accounts of soldiers of the First World War who were as distraught over the death of horse or mule as they were over the death of a human comrade.

To further understand the relationships with these horses, read the story of Chief, the horse considered to be the U.S. Army's last mount. Or perhaps this account of the deactivation of a mounted cavalry unit in 1932 at Fort D.A. Russell in Texas.

I'm not able to buy into Hollywood's version of a true story.

Horses as Healers

2010-11-09T20:16:00.000-08:00

The last horse mounted Cavalry unit in the U.S. Army was deactivated in 1946. Having served continuously since the establishment of the Continental Army in 1776, they were rendered obsolete by mechanization.

The connection to this storied past is not forgotten, however, as Ceremonial Units are still maintained.

More importantly, horses are helping some of our wounded warriors.

The Case for a Dark Colored Horse

2010-11-08T19:18:00.000-08:00

Smokey makes it.

I think Jessica is on to something with her bay horse.

Ride Your Horse to School...Get Suspended

2010-11-02T11:42:00.001-07:00

At least that's how they do things at Hamilton-Wenham Regional High School in Hamilton, Massachusetts.

Read the story here.

If you find this as ludicrous as I do, please share your opinions with Principal Matthew Fox.

Edit: I unintentionally posted this before I was done writing it. I was mildly curious if the suspension may have been related to the sword strapped to his hip. As it turns out his "Squire" was suspended also, so I think this may just be another case of school administrator's hiding behind some "zero tolerance" (of what I'm not sure) policy, without applying common sense or basic reasoning to the situation.

Smokey as a Cow

2010-10-31T20:35:00.001-07:00

DN3 will be using our mare Bailey in the High School Equestrian Team in the Working Cow Horse events. Bailey is descended from Poco Bueno, and bears a striking physical resemblance to him.

And she is all about working the cows. Knows her job, and takes it seriously. As we don't have any cows, we use another horse in the role. Today was Smokey's turn in the barrel.

What you can't see in this video is that when we turn, Bailey bares her teeth and pins her ears. She is also business, and if given the chance, would take a bite out of the cow (or horse). It's a bit unnerving when you are the receiving end.

(Edit: You'll have to double click on the video and view it in You Tube. For some reason it's chopped off here. Sigh.)

In the "Thanksgiving Comes First" Category.

2010-10-28T19:14:00.000-07:00

The two lane highway leading into the two and half horse time where the BR abode occupies it's spot of land is lined with, among things, Christmas tree farms. Early each December, the family BR makes a pilgramage to one of said farms for the annual cutting of Treezilla.

I snapped this photo on the way home today (click to enlarge):

At least three of these farms have their signs up already. Really? It's not even All Hallow's Eve yet, for the love of Pete.

At least they don't open until the day after Thanksgiving...

Blast from the Past

2010-10-27T21:14:00.001-07:00

Cause I got nothing. Well, actually I have quite a bit of material brewing in my gray matter. What I currently seem to lack is time.

This picture from my previous line of work recently surfaced. Circa 1994 at the USS Bowfin (SS-287) Memorial, in Pearl Harbor, upon the occasion of my second re-enlistment. I was but a young Machinist's Mate Chief (Submarines) at the time, with orders to the USS Houston (SSN-713).

I do not get misty or nostalgic thinking of my Navy days. I do not regret one single day of my service, but you won't find me bellied up to the bar at the local VFW, saying "This is a no shitter..." (Pardon my French, but that's Navy jargon for "I'm about to weave a tall tale, which is based only in small part upon true events")

Besides, I didn't have any horses.

When is a Horse Too Old?

2010-10-23T20:06:00.000-07:00

I certainly won't pretend to have the answer to that question. Like people, each horse is an individual, subject to their own rate of aging, effects of past injuries, illness, and infirmities. Some breeds, like Arabians, are known for their longevity. I've heard, from reputable sources, that one of the keys to their longevity is continued use and exercise.

Smokey turned 21, this year. I find myself more acutely attuned to his health and well being. Towards the end of summer, I found myself wondering if, perhaps, he was getting too old for what I ask of him.

The other night, as I was bringing him in from the pasture, I couldn't help but notice that his eyes are bright, and he has a spring in his step. And, in the arena, the old boy was hotter than a two dollar pistol. He wanted to go fast. Being an equine speed junky, I of course, let him.

Nope, he's not too old.

A Few Housekeeping Items

2010-10-18T18:12:00.000-07:00

My apologies on the light (read: non-existent) blogging. Last week was a really long month.

Back before the whole "Blogs of Note" affair, my dashboard indicated that I had 9 followers. As of this writing, the number is 186. I'm not entirely certain what to make of that.

Glass half full, or half empty. We'll start out on the positive, just because. I have nearly doubled the number of blogs I am following. If a blog stands the test of time, I will add it to my blog list on the right side of this page. Initially, I was going to post endorsements of those who make my list, but in order to spare them the spam barrage currently inundating my comments, I will just quietly add them to the list. BTW, there are two new ones already. For my new readers, if your blog doesn't make the list, please don't be offended. It may just not be my cup of tea.

The downside has been the increase in spam. Word verification, apparently, is not foolproof. At this point, I'm keeping up by simply deleting it. I have no desire to implement comment moderation, as it isn't fair to my faithful readers, and it would likely become one more thing I do not have time for.

I'll take the good with the bad, because the infusion of new readers has provided some fresh motivation for blogging. I think many of go through the "should I close this thing down" phase from time to time. Guess I'll be sticking around.

In the meantime, what do you do with a geriatric Alaskan Malamute who has lost much of her coat? DN3 has a good solution:

Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch...

2010-10-13T21:20:00.001-07:00

"Can't you see I'm eating here?"

It was 37F this morning when I left for work. It was 72F when I got home this afternoon. I'm not real fond of 35 degree temperature swings, and the accompanying 'blanket on', 'blanket off' routine.

What I Saw Yesterday

2010-10-13T17:36:00.001-07:00

I flew down to the Bay Area yesterday on work related travel. One the stops on our itinerary was in Santa Rosa. As we were driving through town, we passed a coffee shop with the rather memorable name "Bad Ass Coffee".

Standing in front of this store, in a parking stall no less, was a fully saddled Paint Horse. I kid you not.

Unfortunately, I was unable to convince the city slickers in the van that we needed to stop for a photo op, and I'm just not that quick on the iPhone camera.

Shortly after takeoff on the return trip.

The plane was an Airbus A320. Prior to this trip, I hadn't flown on an Airbus product. After yesterday, I'm not in a rush to do so again. The plane made more screeching, bumping, and other weird noised than I've ever heard out of an aircraft before. Several others made the same observation.

Collection and the Art of Toilet Bowling

2010-10-07T20:15:00.000-07:00

"No hour of life is wasted that is spent in the saddle." That quote is attributed to Sir Winston Churchill. I couldn't agree more.

With that said, I must confess a dislike for riding in the arena. I don't think Smokey is too fond of it either. Or maybe I'm just trying to project human emotions on a four legged beast. Regardless of how hard I try to liven things up by working on this, that, or the other thing, riding in circles in a cloud of dust is, for me, a bit on the unexciting side. Except for the occasions when I'm riding alone, and I let old Smokey Joe out into an extended lope, some hand galloping, and the occasional flat out run thrown in for good measure. That gets the adrenalin flowing.

With that said, I accept that arena work is a necessary evil. It is the place to learn and hone riding skills.

Lately, I've been working on collection, which is the horse equivalent of good posture. The short explanation is that the horse keeps his head down, and arches his back. It's a little more complicated than that, but I hope you get the picture.

I know how to collect a horse. Smokey knows how to be collected. But, somewhere between my hand and the bit, there is a disconnect between this particular horse and myself. I push him up with spurs, tug gently on the bit, and his head will drop. After a few seconds his head will come back up. Rinse, repeat. It seems to be a test of who will tire first. Maybe some day we'll get there.

In the last few months he has developed this habit of tilting his head in toward the center of the arena while riding on the rail. And, soon enough, his body follows the head, and we start spiraling inward, circling the drain. I point out the error in his way, we get back on the rail, and start the whole thing over. It doesn't matter which direction we're going, we just start circling inward. Since my first thought is always "what am I doing wrong", I've made sure my legs are off and the reins are loose. No matter, it still happens. If anyone has any thoughts on this behavior, I'm certainly open to suggestions.

On some level, I think he's trying to tell me that it would be much better to go stand in the center of the arena, instead of working on this silly collection business.

I wonder if horses respond differently to riders they are familiar with. When DN3 rides him, it's all business. She is an amazing rider, and doesn't put up with any monkey business. I'm more like Good Time Charlie, preferring to go fast, run gaming patterns, and ride for hours or days in the mountains. In a large arena, I can point him downwind, make a little a kissing sound, and Bam! It's like getting shot out of cannon as he heads full steam for the other side. But he won't do that with other people on him. Riding point on the trail, I can drape my reins over the horn, and eat lunch or read a map while he keeps up the same pace. But with other, less experienced riders, he is known to stop, and refuse to move again, no matter how much kicking is involved.

If anyone ever unlocks the key to finding out how horses truly think, they will make a mint.

"What's all this collection nonsense about, anyways?"

Hard Keeper

2010-10-05T21:05:00.001-07:00

Smokey, while a registered American Quarter Horse, is actually an Appendix American Quarter Horse, because his sire is a Thoroughbred. The Quarter Horse Breed was established in 1947, and, to a large extent, the first QH's were Thoroughbreds, so this isn't such a stretch. Quarter Horses today tend to be very stout, strong horses. Smokey is tall and lean, more like his sire must have been.

Keeping weight on him has always been a bit of challenge. To aid in this, he gets a daily ration of grain. For the past few years, he's been on a product known as Enhance Daily, manufactured by Arkat. With a 24% fact content, it has been amazing. Combined with a helping of rice bran, it has aided in keeping 'ol Mojo healthy.

Sadly, Arkat has discontinued this product. Combined with a hard working summer, he has suddenly experienced some weight loss, and his ribs were beginning to show. To combat this he is on extra rations of alfalfa, close to half a bale per day (he's not complaining). We located a product called Moorglo, which at 18% fat, is darn close to what he was receiving before. It may be wishful thinking, but I believe there has been a perceptible improvement. Combined with nightly blanketing (horses expend energy to stay warm when it is cold), I'm hoping we can get ahead of this problem before the weather turns cold.

One of the hazards of older horses, I guess. Amongst the many things my horse has taught me, I know quite a great deal about the equine digestive system.

I'll keep you posted on his progress.

The Good Lord and a Gun

2010-10-04T20:13:00.000-07:00

It's been a long day, and I'm too drained to spend time writing. Got off work late, stopped at the feed store, mixed grain, admired my horse, and put his blanket on for the first time this season. It's supposed to drop to the low 40's tonight, and we're battling some weight loss (more on that tomorrow), so a little extra warmth is needed.

He's looking a bit rangy. He enjoys a good roll in the mud.

Since I'm lacking in anything meaningful, I will leave you with something that, for me at least, speaks volumes.

I'll be darned...(Part II)

2010-10-03T14:29:00.000-07:00

I've suddenly received more comments than I can keep up with. So...

To all my longstanding, faithful readers, a Big Thanks for your continued support. You are the reason that I keep this blog going. Even if I am never blessed with the opportunity to meet you, I consider you friends nonetheless.

To all the new folks who have visited in the last few days, I send out a hearty Welcome and Thank You! I can see that I have quite a few blogs to peruse, and suspect I will be adding more than a few new ones to my Blogroll. Please be patient with me as I catch up.

Trust me, the last post was entirely tongue-in-cheek. I tend to see the humor in most situations, and like to poke fun at many things, myself included.

As Lou and Jill have noted, we have definitely gone International. Previously, Alison in England was my only visitor from afar. And yes, Andy is right when he observes that I do not post enough. With the summer riding season winding down, I'll will get to posting. I have quite a few topics swirling around in my brain, time to set them to record.

I'll be darned...

2010-10-02T18:47:00.000-07:00

As it turns out, the Blogger Team at Google maintains a blog called Blogs of Note. I know this, because my humble tome made the list for October 1st. Since I find it somewhat doubtful that my blog is, by any stretch of the imagination, noteworthy, I'm reasonably certain that there has been some mistake. In all likelihood, some Google employee is on probation as a result of this oversight.

The upside, for me, is that my readership has doubled! That's right, I now have two readers! Who'd a thunk?

This does, of course, create some performance anxiety, as I clearly have some high standards to live up to. I will do my best to live up to expectations.

Sometimes Only a Horse Can Get the Job Done

2010-09-23T12:01:00.000-07:00

Read about it here.

See it here. (Edit: Apparently you have to suffer through a brief commercial before the photos show up.)

The Alpine Lakes Wilderness

2010-09-21T17:10:00.000-07:00

My buddy Tim and I, along with our horses, spent last weekend riding in the Alpine Lakes Wilderness, located within the Wenatchee National Forest. Smokey was his usual trusty trail self, and the ride was event free. We rode in about 12 miles on Saturday, with the weather warm and alternating between clouds and sun. Rain started around 8pm, and continued non-stop until around 4am Sunday morning. Sunday was blustery and chilly. Thankfully we were outfitted with proper raingear, so we stayed warm and dry when the skies opened up on us during the last two hours of the ride out.

While only 35 miles from the Norse Peak Wilderness, the terrain and vegetation are vastly different. The terrain is very rocky, and is covered with enormous boulders deposited by the glaciers thousands of years ago. The vegetation is mostly alpine scrub.

I never really cease to be amazed with Smokey. The horse who can be a complete idiot in the arena, was a calm, surefooted, trusty steed the entire weekend. Riding in the lead, he was surefooted, kept a good pace, and never balked at any obstacles. Occasionally he would just stop walking, and look back at me as if to say "I think this is a good place to camp", but a gentle reminder would set him to walking again.

The Waptus River

There are numerous creeks crossing the trail which feed into the river.

The view from the top of the Polallie Ridge Trail. (Elev. ~5500ft). My pitiful Nikon Coolpix does not do justice to the sheer beauty of the views from up here. I must return in the summer time.

We think these piers used to be part of a firewatch tower.

I wish Smokey could take his mind off eating the grass long enough to pose for a picture.

Belay My Last!!

2010-09-10T16:37:00.001-07:00

Smokey and I won't be headed out this weekend. I just received a phone call that the great white hunters have struck camp, and are packing out today. Apparently the weather has been none too hospitable.

Bummer...

Hittin' the Trail

2010-09-10T12:24:00.000-07:00

Smokey and I are headed out again this weekend. We'll be overnighting, and visiting some friends at their elk camp. Since it will just be Smokey and I on the trail, with no pack animals, it just might be an adventure free outing.

A man can hope, can't he?

Weekend Wilderness Adventures (Sunday)

2010-09-09T21:11:00.000-07:00

The site of the Old Tin Shack still has a hitching rail. We had the six animals tied to said rail late Sunday morning as we were breaking camp.

One member of our party is not a horseman. He was folding up a blue tarp, and in the process of doing so, gave it a vigorous shake to get the dirt off. Now, next to perhaps grizzly bears, blue tarps represent the thing most feared by horses. The area of the hitching rail erupted with the thunder of 24 hooves trying to affect the escape of 12 wild eyes from this dreaded monster. With no two animals headed in the same direction, the rail came free of its moorings. Wunderbar.

After the animals were calmed down, we were able to re-engineer the rail. Bailing twine has many uses.

Next came loading the pack animals. Today, the mule would be carrying the pack boxes, with the pack bags on the horse. As I lowered the second box onto the pack saddle, something inside clanked, and spooked her into absolute terror. She took off at a run.

SL had her lead rope, and did not let go. She began running in a circle around him. As we had been unable to tie the boxes down, they were banging against her sides, making a bad situation worse. She was looking to SL for help, while he just talked to her in a soothing voice until she calmed down. The boxes were lashed down, and he led her through the nearby woods, so that she could get the feel of the boxes hitting trees and making noise. I told SL that he could lead the mule today. I would be happy to lead the pack horse, thank you very much.

By this time all the animals were adrenaline charged. The first hour of the ride out was chaos. Smokey would not walk, choosing instead to jig-jog. This is something that infuriates me, as it is very unpleasant to ride, not to mention with a horse right in front of him, I kept having to pull him back. With one hand on the pack horses lead rope, and the other fighting the horse with the reins, I was very busy, and none too happy.

Under questioning, I will deny that I may have, at some point, offered to solve Smokey's behavior with .357 solutions. Just saying.

The tide finally broke when the mule got loose from SL. She spun around, and headed up the trail at a run. Silence befell our group. It was broken when SL said, "she'll be back". As if on cue, she reappeared, headed at us at a dead run. I pulled the pack horse in close, ready to maneuver both horses in whatever direction would keep us safe.

She stopped abreast of our group. SL retrieved her, and we started out once again. This seemed to have broken the tension, as the rest of the ride was calm and uneventful, except for the Mule Deer doe that briefly appeared on the trail.

All because of a blue tarp.

Weekend Wilderness Adventures (Saturday)

2010-09-08T20:09:00.000-07:00

A few posts back, I mentioned the horse and mule that showed up at the trailhead when our group was tacking up. What I didn't mention was that it was only the beginning of an equine adventure filled weekend.

Our party consisted of four riders, five horses, and one mule. The mule and one of the horses did duty as the pack animals. Both of them are in training, and this was to be their first overnighter. The trip in on Saturday was fairly uneventful. I ponied the mule, and she was a delight. I hardly knew she was back there. Smokey was his reliable old self. The only time he buggered up was when we passed two backpackers who had stopped to rest along the trail. Their pack were lying on the uphill side of the trail, and he was rather convinced that the blue backpack would find horses to be quite palatable. Having your horse dive off the side of the trail while ponying a mule does have the ability to initiate a burst of adrenaline.

Our destination was the site of the Old Tin Shack, which is near Airplane Meadows. The Tin Shack is off the trail, and if one does not know its location, it is unlikely to be found. As the only member of the party who had ever been there, it fell on me to guide us there.

Of course, there was a fly in the ointment. On my previous trip, we had ridden in from the south. This time we were on the north side, in Airplane Meadows. Rather than leading the whole party on a bushwacking expedition, I told them to stay put while Smokey and I scouted.

Now, I fully expected that my plan to ride off from the rest of the herd would result in something between a rodeo and a disaster. To my utter astonishment, Smokey headed off into the woods at my direction with nary a hesitation. That horse never ceases to amaze me.

It took about 15 minutes to locate the path, which is little more than a dry creekbed. I followed it, and in short order, Smokey and I found the site. We headed back down the path to retrieve the rest of the folks. To liven the ride up, I kicked Smokey up into a trot. When we came out of the forest and into the meadow, the others were on the far side. I was waving my arm to get their attention. My brother-in-law said that the sight of the horse and I trotting out of the woods with me waving was quite the scene.

The horses were untacked, and set out to graze, while we pitched cap. After several hours, the younger animals were starting to play and get a bit mischevious. Not old Mo. He steered clear of the juvenile delinquents, and kept his nose in the grass. Never know when your next meal will be. When the youngsters were beginning to get out of hand, they were tied to the highline. I left Smokey out to graze.

After awhile, he wandered closer to camp, and slept for about an hour. He then walked over near the highline. In fact, he stopped near his loop on the line. All I had to do was pick his lead rope up off the ground, and tie it to the line. Gotta love a horse that puts himself to bed! I tried to convince the others that I had trained him to do that, but they weren't buying it. Can't imagine why.

Tomorrow I will post the other half of this story, when the real excitement began.

Saddle Sore

2010-09-07T19:31:00.000-07:00

As mentioned in the previous post, when I unsaddled Smokey at the end of the first day of the work party, I was greeted by a bright pink spot where the hair and flesh had been rubbed away. Because his health and well being is first and foremost when on these trips, there was no question that he was unrideable. I rendered first aid, and he spent the rest of the trip at camp on the all you can eat alfalfa program.

24 hours later, the area was quite swollen and tender to the touch. By Sunday morning, the swelling was subsiding, but was still noticeable. He rode back to the trail head where our rig was parked in someone else's trailer. Our local chapter vet was there guarding all the pickup's and trailers. His initial assessment was grim: severe hematoma, which would require months of recovery, and possibly surgical removal. To say that I was depressed about hurting my friend would be a vast understatement.

We arrived home on July 25th. Within two days of arriving home, the swelling had subsided, and the skin began to heal. I'm happy to report that by Aug. 12th, he was healthy enough to be ridden by one of the girls in our 4H club at the County Fair, where he took several Grand Champions, I might add. And, we did an overnighter in the backcountry on Aug. 21st and 22nd.

So how did this happen? After some soul searching, and a few in depth discussions with some experienced folk, I've narrowed it down to three factors:

1. Smokey's spine protrudes upward above his hips. This is known as a roach back. Notice the hump in the picture below. This is fairly uncommon. Whether this is a natural conformation defect, or the result of some past injury is unknown.

Compare to the same spot on Bailey's back. No spine to be seen.

2. I was using a crupper for the first time on this trip. A crupper is designed to prevent the saddle from slipping too far foward while traveling downhill. When walking downhill, horse and mules will naturally clench their tail, holding the crupper in place. I feel that the crupper placed extra pressure on the back of the saddle above his protruding spine. Needless to say, I won't be using the crupper again. I'm going to spring for saddle britchen.

3. I failed to tighten the cinch adequately. My saddle fits Smokey as if it were made for him. As a result, I tend to get somewhat complacent with regards to how tight the cinch is. He's a bit cinchy, and puffs up during the process. Because we were traveling on hills, I should have paid extra attention, and perhaps tightened it up a bit more than usual.

Bottom line: My fault, and it will not happen again.

A Tale of Two Buckskins

Merry Christmas!

It's The Rare Movie That I Look Forward To Seeing In The Theater.

Why I Like Living In a Small Town

"God forbid that I should go to any heaven where there are no horses."

Changes. They Are a Comin'.

Seventy Years

I Hope There Is A Special Place In Hell...

Things That Go Good Together

The Issue

Good Neighbors

On The Subject of Comment Notification

Grrr...

Happy Thanksgiving!

Winter Wonderland

Another One Off the Bucket List

I'm Not in the Market...

State of the Blog

Observations

Small Projects

Desperately Seeking Summer

INSTALLING SUMMER.....███████████████░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ 44% DONE.Installation failed. 404 error: Season not found. The season you are looking for might have been removed, had its name changed, or is temporarily unavailable. Please try again...

Crystal Mountain Ski Resort record 612 inches of snow (that's 51 feet!), and had their longest ski season on record, running from Nov. 18, 2010 to July 14th this year. Great for the skiers, not so much for those who ride stock or backpack in the wildnerness. Let me illustrate.

Al Gore, call your office.

Diagnosis

The Art of Getting Out of the Saddle

Flyover Country

Freedom Isn't Free

The Rough Life of Our Horses

For Those of You Who Have/Want Kids

News on the Front

It's Been One of Those Weeks...

Solo Trail Ride

Allright, Already...

Time to Join the Mothball Fleet?

Nuclear Power Plant Troubles

One of the Benefits of being a Master Chief...

RIP: Lance Corporal Tasker and Theo

No Bad Color on a Good Horse

WAHSET Meet #1

What She Said.

Moral Dilemma

RIP, Corporal Buckles

Bailey Baroo

Free Horse

Thoughts, anyone?

Customer Service Strikes Again, Part II

Customer Service Strikes Again

If You Text and Drive...

Arena Etiquette

I've Been Awarded!

Random Stuff

What He Said...

No...Just No. Not Ever.

Just Because...

Can a Horse Have a Case of "Ants in the Pants"?

Ruger Super Blackhawk - First Assessment

Here We Go Again

Heh!

Lions, and Tigers, and Bears.

Back to Our Regularly Scheduled Programming.

I'm Seeing Red Right Now, So I Don't Have a Good Title For This Post.

"True Grit"

Happy New Year, and More Eagles

Trial By Fire

Predator on the Trail

The Night Before Christmas

In The "No Good Deed Goes Unpunished" Category

Pineapple Express Update

The Pineapple Express Has Arrived

Horses and Wildlife

The Eagles are Landing

Cow On!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Rats...Part II

Rats...

Rainy Day Blues

Overheard at the Arena

Did Anyone Get The Number Of That Bus?

Lost With All Hands

INSTALLING SUMMER.....
███████████████░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ 44% DONE.
Installation failed. 404 error: Season not found. The season you are looking for might have been removed, had its name changed, or is temporarily unavailable. Please try again...