Still horse-crazy after all these years

I spent the past week hobbling around the barn with a broken toe. Poor Ruffy, scared by a Caterpillar loader parked by the pasture gate, tucked and ran past, crunching my foot in the process. I should have been more careful knowing her gate claustrophobia. Ruffy bears a scar nearly the length of her hind leg cannon bone. We surmise she injured her leg in a starting gate accident sometime during her racing career. This wasn't my first horse-related injury, and surely won't be my last. With three hot-blooded Thoroughbreds in my keeping, accidents will happen. It's just one of the hazards of having horses."

As my toe throbbed under an ice pack, I realized my slower reaction times and balance are not as sharp as when I was twenty. Now that I'm pushing 55, I don't mend quite as quickly either! But all the pain has been worth the joy our three horses have brought me, starting with our first horse, Halawa Moon, known around the barn as Harley, and sometimes as, "Gnarley Harley" if he's being particularly opinionated.

On one of my first solo rides, not long after I'd had surgery, Harley spooked and spun, sending me crashing to the ground. He has since sent me to the doctor twice; once with a damaged rotator cuff, and once with a cracked sternum. But I can't lay the blame on him for my one trip to the emergency room. I stupidly tried to move a limb that was caught on the saddle pad and poking him in the ribs. Not realizing it was under pressure, it snapped back, thwacking me in the upper lip. With a handkerchief staunching the flowing blood, I re-mounted, rode back to the barn, turned out Harley, and drove to the ER where the nurse said, "This happened over an hour ago. It took you long enough to get here."

So maybe getting an ex-racehorse as a first horse, after 30 years out of the saddle, wouldn't be most people's first choice, but hey, he was free.  I've yearned for a horse my entire life and this was a dream becoming reality at last. Call it a milestone at 50--I couldn't have been happier. Some women get tattoos, some dye their hair a brilliant shade of pink or blue to mask the imminent grey, some get nose studs. I got a high-spirited, off-track Thoroughbred who was going to be my trail horse--at least that's what I hoped. He's helped me stave off middle-age sagging over the past five years,  helped lose weight, and increased muscle tone. On occasion, he's caused me angst, and made me lose sleep. But now, I cannot imagine life without Harley and the girls.

Snoozy Rolex in the morning

We had a rough winter in Maine; the most snow I've seen in thirty-some years. I shoveled stalls and I shoveled snow until my arms ached from "golfer's elbow". I think the last of the snow disappeared sometime in early April. But I don't dwell on the aches and pains; that would be pointless since it's all part of keeping horses. They depend on me for care, so I just muckle onto the shovel and get the job done.

Four years ago, we acquired two more off-track Thoroughbreds; Ruffy and Rolex. We've decided it's time to find our own piece of real estate to set up our farm. House hunting and house sale prepping consumed nearly all of my free time this spring. But I need to get in the saddle at least once a week, broken toe or not, just to keep Harley in a "working" frame of mind. A Thoroughbred needs to be consistently worked and Harley is a classic case of a horse who needs that exercise regimen. So after waffling about what footwear would be acceptable for riding, a toss up between Crocs or Chaco sandals, I saddled up my flighty horse, donned by stiff-soled Chacos, and headed for the trails. Maybe Harley sensed my worry of having to walk any distance and behaved himself. When he really needs to be good for me, Harley shines.

This weekend, after I finish crawling around on my creaky knees, cutting in the floor I need to paint, I'll grab my britches and sandals (my toe still gets mashed in my riding boots), head out to the barn and take Harley out for an evening ride, replete with spooky woods, scary squirrels, frightening farm animals, and lots of smiles.

Harley in camouflage

Of mud, ice, and broken barns

My quest continues...is there a mini-farm out there to fit our needs and our budget? Yet another ancient barn, cobbled together, but not horse-worthy. I wish realtors would stop using wide angle lenses which give a misleading view of how much open land exists. The last place I checked out had less than two acres available for pasture. Three horses would have that eaten down to dirt in no time. So the hunt goes on. In the meantime, I'm sanding floors--oh, what fun!

And if the paint dust wasn't bad enough, now that mud season is here, the dust and hair is flying off the ponies. I've thought about wearing a dust mask when I groom them! Each day, their mud wallows seems to get a little deeper. Just glancing at Rolex, I thought we had a rogue Appaloosa in the herd the other day. Mud splattered her legs, her chest, and even her face. So, who's "afraid" of stepping in water? You're busted Rolex!

I convinced John we needed to take some time off from repairs to get in a a little ride on Saturday afternoon. John and I need to keep the horses worked, at least a little, so they aren't too crazy when we finally throw a leg over them. I cannot imagine what they would be like if they spent more time stabled and less time turned out.

Last night, as I drove up to the barn, they were gallivanting around at the top of the hill, even old Vance. I'm guessing spring fever and lack of work has them just itching for some fun.

The snow has finally left, except for small remnants lurking in dark corners under the hemlocks. Our weather hasn't really been too warm, and the infernal winds seem to never quit. Here it is late April, and I really wished I'd had my jacket on for our afternoon ride--the Carhartt vest was not enough!

Harley sniffed at the water, but didn't drink, something I always encourage him to do. This means Rolex has to wait, otherwise he'll panic if she's gone off without him. After much snuffling, with no drinking, we pushed onward and upward.

Every so often, Rolex "gets stuck" and needs Harley to take the lead. He willingly does so with his ears going from relaxed to upright, on full alert. There's a corner in the trail that leads around some thick, stubby pine trees. All the horses peer around this corner, like they expect the boogie man to jump out. Harley forged ahead of Rolex, but remained on guard, ready for phantom monsters.

But when your bravery fails, it's always good to relinquish the lead position and get a good head pat. All our horses love to do this, especially when they have sweaty heads. As a holdover from their racing days when they were ponied at the track, they all willingly stand by their trail mate, ready to receive a carrot an a good rub.

With spring off to such a late start this year, we needed to purchase more hay. Two truckloads and 85 bales later, we're now all set until the grass comes in--hopefully by May! Our supplier still had some lovely second crop timothy mix, but when we pulled up for our last load, people were lined up! This weather has affected everyone in New England. And given this past winter, we should probably budget for more hay for next year!

So here it is, almost May, and I'm still lighting fires at night. Are we indeed headed towards another ice age? Last week, as I drove out to the barn one morning, frozen dew frosted the landscape. But wherever the sun touched the earth, it appeared the land was on fire, smoking in the sunlight. Truly beautiful, but downright chilly!

High octane Halawa Moon

Everyone has a bad case of spring fever this year. Winter held on so long, we doubted spring would ever arrive. But as the snow banks recede, the ice melts, and the days get longer, I vow to get out there and ride my horse more consistently. With the arrival of spring, the horses feel fresh, strong, and ready to run. But this past winter, Mother Nature reduced their pasture with each snowfall. So they're ready to gallop, buck, play, and stretch those Thoroughbred legs with some speedy fun.

Our rides have been sporadic, squeezed in between spring house cleaning, boiling sap, and relentless cold windy days. I've only ridden Harley solo on two mild, sunny afternoons when I've found him snoozing in the field. I convinced myself each time that it should be a "quiet ride". Hah! I should know better.  If Rolex isn't along for the trip, Harley's support system is missing. He becomes so herd bound in the winter, that getting down the road takes some "hard riding" with quick anticipation on my part to counter his attempts to whirl for home. I read about other people's OTTB's--sane, calm, and inquisitive on the trails--kind of like our Rolex, and wish Harley had those traits. But what's an old girl to do? I just ride him the best I can, and that includes my survival strategy of getting off and walking when Harley becomes "stubbornly unmanageable". When the snorting dragon emerges, I jump off to avoid nasty mishaps, and take command as the point man.

To be fair, John pointed out to me that when I've truly needed Harley to be good, he shined. Two examples: when I was smacked in the face by a tree limb, stunned and bleeding, he stood quietly while I remounted and got me home safely. When Rolex balked at a brook crossing near the end of 12 mile trail ride, Harley took the lead. So while he may not always be the bravest steed in the bunch, when the going gets tough, tough Harley gets going. And when he's with his girl, Rolex, they are the dynamic duo.

Harley brings out the horse-gaga girl in me--my first horse, the best horse, the most beautiful gelding in all of York County, kind of like Dawn French and Peter Pan. So despite his shortcomings, and mine--the middle-aged equestrian coming back from a 25 year hiatus of no riding--we are a team, helping each other through the rough spots. Every year I vow to improve my riding by spending more time without stirrups, at least intentionally! But without a ring, I'm only brave enough to go stirrup-less when Harley is on his best behavior. That eliminates solo rides on cold, windy days when his head in the air like a giraffe. As John said, "He's a high octane horse." Harley may have been last in the Maryland Millions Nursery Stakes, but he was a "cheap track hero" at Suffolk Downs, winning four races before injuries ended his racing days. But is he ever strong! When he wants to go, hang on! When I read the race reviews of Halawa Moon "driving" to the finish, I can just imagine.

Some people say "you didn't rescue your OTTB unless he/she was neglected", but I feel there are different types of rescuing. Once Harley proved he didn't have consistent speed and injured his knees, his racing career ended. After being passed along to a few different owners, I acquired him. I suspect he knows he has landed in equine heaven, even if I insist on taking him on solo rides. He always comes home to a pasture of friends, lots of carrots, and a full belly at night. Who but me, a horse-crazy lady, and my partner John, would take him on and try to make a trail horse out of him.

So this past weekend, we took the infamous duo out for a ride. The minute John picked up a trot with Rolex, Harley broke into his lovely canter. He began to get strong and I felt the steamroller coming alive as he ran up on Rolex's hind end. Yup, he would have kept going too if she hadn't slowed down and stopped to look around. This was the first time we've been this far into the woods since early winter. Their ears swiveled, listening, watching. Possibly deer or wild turkeys were moving through the woods. Now Harley was wired.

Once we turned for home, Harley began to jog and swish his tail. He decided to strut his ex-racehorse jig when reached the paved road. The farm menagerie we rode by had his attention; turkeys, chickens, goats, all bleating, beating wings, and crowing. Now that he was warmed up, all the commotion was enough to make him explode. Snorting and going sideways, I hopped off and led him prancing up the hill like he was in the post parade. Spring fever had Harley in its grip.

Don't worry, my boy, sultry summer days lie ahead.

Halawa Moon hits his teen years

Harley turned thirteen on Monday. Yes, the Jockey Club said he was thirteen as of January 1, but I always hold off until his actual birth date so I have a reason to give him extra carrots and apples.

Our farrier came on Saturday, and my almost-teen acted like a three year old. I thought I'd take some of the energy out of him by taking him for a walk/jog down the the road before Butch arrived. I think I only managed to get him keyed up. First, he wouldn't go down the road and stopped every five steps. With a lot of urging, I was able to get him down to the Orris Falls trail head. The minute we turned back for home, Mr. Prancypants danced his way home like he'd just heard the bugle playing "Call to the Post".

Butch attempted to trim his feet, but Harley was being such a bad boy, John saddled him up and took him for a ride while I held the saintly Ruffy.

By the time they came back, Harley had broken a good sweat. I think John rode the "prancypants" out of him. He still wasn't on his best behavior, but he was much better than before John rode him. Butch is the most patient farrier I've ever known, and we (the horses and us) are lucky to have him.

So while we wait for spring to finally come, and the snowbanks to melt, we'll begin the maple syrup season. We boiled down our first batch a few days ago--dark amber, almost Grade B, but how yummy!

Spring fever

Just when I thought winter's back was broken, Sunday's rain turned to a steady snow all afternoon. By 3:30, the wind picked up and I figured it was time to go check on the ponies and see if they were ready to come in out of the weather. I fluffed up stalls, filled buckets, and stuffed haynets, while keeping an eye out for Ruffy.  She's usually the first one to arrive by the gate, telling me she's hungry and wants to come inside. And where there's one, three others quickly follow. Everyone was wet, but not soaked and cold. The shelter and hay seemed to have kept them comfortable. Their thick winter coats have served the horses well, this winter, and the extra oils in their feed has helped.

But today....the sun sparked on the snow, the mercury climbed up to the forties, and the horses were taking snow baths while I skied around the pasture.  You can still see a smidgen of snow on Ruffy's rump. Everyone took a turn, wallowing in the wet snow. I think they were feeling warm! I stripped down to just my turtleneck and vest in the blazing sun!

Then the horses got curious and had to come investigate me and my skis. Ruffy sniffed my poles...

Rolex nibbled on my ski tips, while Harley observed...

And then Harley took a turn sniffing my poles...

And when I started pulling mints out of my pockets--I was surrounded! And the begging began.
"Please, mom, just one more?"

Then I zipped away on my skis. The horses didn't venture too far; the snow is still a foot deep in most of the pasture. But I did see another sign of spring. The springtails (aka snow fleas) have arrived! Tiny little black critters, hopping about in the snow, eating microscopic bits of matter, telling me spring is here...even though we're supposed to get snow again tomorrow.

The back side of winter...at last!

Winter's back is finally broken...we hope. Temperatures soared into the 40's on Monday; a promise that spring was truly coming. As snow dripped off the eaves, it even sounded like spring. We tapped the trees, the sweetest joy of spring dripping into the buckets.

But without the proper rise and fall of temperature, the sap won't flow. Thursday morning brought more snow in a short-lived blast; enough to cover the roads. Just another "ha-ha!" from Mother Nature.

With the snowbanks still a few feet high, the woods remain inaccessible by horse. And there's still a good 12 to 18 inches of snow in the pastures which keeps our horses hemmed in to their small patch of tramped out space. I attempted to pick the manure out, but I needed the sled to haul it away while post-holing up to my knees! I'll be happy to see the back side of winter this year.

I think the wildlife will be happy when winter ends as well. A bald eagle soared over my truck and landed in a pine near the Great Works River this past week. Out for an early morning hunt, only to find the river frozen? Maybe the bird was hunting the recently awakened chipmunks that I've seen scurrying over the snow. Last week, driving to the barn, John and I saw a herd of deer moving up the powerline and into the woods. John caught the last two curious stragglers with the camera.

And across the road, the horses watched the deer herd with pricked ears.

The cleared roads and drive have given John an opportunity to work with Ruffy and her driving. She did well, considering the lack of work she's had all winter. She got a little sideways and stiff, ready to go like the ex-racehorse she is, but I was impressed by how well she did.

We traveled up to Buxton for another load of hay last Friday. With winter hanging on, green grass seems a long ways away. As the snow slowly recedes, we New England horse folks will be snatching up whatever hay is available. It will be tricky to get the grass to come in and not get torn up by hooves during mud season. I suspect we'll have to sacrifice one pasture to save another.


Rain finally came this afternoon, but we're supposed to get another 1 to 2 inches of snow tomorrow...ooh boy...

The Tractor Factor and Our Snowy Staycation

How I spent my winter vacation...
More snow and blizzard winds; these snowbanks just get higher and higher. As of today, that snowbank behind me is now nearly at the corner of the milk room. We received another few inches yesterday afternoon following moderate temperatures (all the way up to the high 20's) and sunny skies. Will the snow ever stop?

We do get plowed out at the barn, sometimes after we've shoveled our way in, but without a working tractor, we're running out of places to put the damn stuff! Our canyon to the manure pile gets drifted in almost daily, so I have to re-shovel the trench and pack it out once again. With a tractor, we could move the manure and snow back, clear the top of the hills for the horses where the snow is still knee-deep, and move these encroaching snowbanks so we can keep the gates and barn entrance clear. One thing I've learned from this winter is you MUST have a working tractor on the farm! In lieu of a tractor, I could use a snowblower. But without either, we do have Bucky the Trucky (must have 4WD just to get to the barn), a big scooper, wheelbarrow, shovels, and above all, snowshoes. Without snowshoes, I'd be wallowing in hip-deep snow to deliver the hay, clear the water tank (which we had to raise 18 inches so the horses could reach it), and just for sheer mobility this winter. I feel like I've grown an extra appendage--one with a shovel blade on the end.

But the horses don't seem to mind all the snow . They feel fresh and ready to go every morning when I turn them out, no matter how deep the snow. As long as there's hay, water, and room to run, they're happy. But the deep snow has limited the horses' travel area. I tried to entice them down the hill, out of the wind one day by dragging the hay sled all the way to the bottom of the field. They just stood at the edge of their packed area and looked at me. Rolex and Harley ventured part way down my snowshoed path, then spun around and cantered back their "feeding ground". Slave that I am to their every whim, I dragged the hay back up the hill.

The snow is too deep down there! Bring back the hay!

Our Kentucky-bred Ruffy, loves to play in the snow, but by the day's end, she's also the first to the top of the hill, waiting to come inside. Due to the pecking order, she has to wait her turn, unless Miss Speedy gets to the top before anyone else. If she times it just right, I can throw the halter on her and get her out of the gate before the rest of the gang show up. Otherwise, she has to wait for Vance, then Rolex, and then Harley. When the wind is really blowing, which it has done a lot this winter, things are always interesting as the OTTBs all charge out of the gate. Vance, the old Standardbred, shows the most sense, and calmly waits while I shut the gate behind him. The others, well let's just say, I have to hang on to the rope while trying to close the gate simultaneously.

We had a nice break in the weather Thursday--no wind, sunshine, and milder temperatures. After Harley had a chance to burn off some steam in the pasture, I tacked him up for a ride. I've ridden so little this winter, I was ready for  an "actively interesting" ride. John had spent the morning doing a little driving with the girls, so I expected to go solo. But thankfully, he decided to saddle up Rolex and go with me. I rode Harley up the road a little ways, with no issues, but the minute I turned around, the sideways prancing and snorting ensued. He becomes so herd-bound in the winter, and coupled with lots of energy, he can be a real handful. Rolex is the calming factor for Harley. Oh good, she's coming too. I hate to venture out all alone!

We attempted to ride into Orris Falls, but the hock-deep snow was a tremendous workout. We didn't go far before turning around. The deep snow kept Mr. Prancypants from taking off for home! So we turned it into a road ride. Midweek, with no traffic, made the ride quite pleasant despite scary things like mailboxes poking out of snowbanks, people shoveling off roofs, tractors and snowblowers moving snow, and barking dogs, chin-deep in drifts. Harley demonstrated the striding walk I know he has, that often becomes a jog as he catches up to Rolex's swinging walk. For some reason, he decided to take the lead on the way home, ears up, prancing now and then, but maintaining the front position for a change. I even had to do some half-halts and circles to let Rolex catch up! Rolex seemed happy to follow, although she'd already had a little workout pulling John's sledge.

Rolex striding down the road

Ruffy is not as far along on the driving lessons as Rolex. She's a bit more nervous about what's going on behind her rump. But John has progressed slowly enough that she's getting used to tack hanging off her in places she never imagined.

And even though many would say this has been a winter from hell with the cold, the wind, the relentless snows, I still love seeing my horses every morning, watching them play in the snow, and seeing Harley, especially when he looks like this--my noble Sir Snowy Cheeks!

Happy Valentines from Mother Nature--another blizzard comes our way!

The face that makes my day, a happy Halawa Moon

Mother Nature is sending us her Valentine by way of another blizzard today. As I left work, the snow began to fall in earnest, sticking to the road, warning us to get ready for yet another few days of shoveling. With all the snow we've had, I should have been on my cross-country skis by now, but it seems I've spent all my free time cutting back snow banks, clearing my drive, clearing off the roof, and keeping paths open at the barn. Without a working tractor, it's been a tough winter for moving manure! I never thought I'd be using snowshoes to tramp my way out to the pile with a wheelbarrow!

The horses have fared well, still keeping on their weight, an enjoying their winter follies. They love playing in the snow, bucking, rearing, crow-hopping, and playing tag. We have tried to squeeze in rides whenever possible,  between snow storms and sub-zero winds that send us scurrying for shelter. People ask me how the horses like all this snow. I think they actually love winter. They've been taking snow baths on a regular basis, keeping pretty darn clean.

Fortunately, the snow storms thus far have only brought cold, dry snow which makes it easy to move and not too hard to drive in, although when too much accumulates, it can be a test without four wheel drive! Our farrier, St. Butch, made it to the barn last week between storms. The horses hadn't been worked in a while, so we wanted to get them out for a little exercise before Butch arrived. Harley promised a wild ride as he pranced sideways out the barn door. I asked John if he wanted to take Harley for a spin through the deeps pasture snows before I tried to ride him--take the edge off, so to speak. Well, it's a good thing he did! Once they reached the bottom of the pasture and turned towards the barn, Mr. Prancypants began to go sideways and throw in some bucks. His speed was thwarted by belly-deep drifts, and one episode of snow-snorkeling. After about three trips up the hill, I was ready to get on for a short trail ride. Here are some of the best photos of John and Harley blazing through the snow.

My Fuzzy B, ready for me!

As you can see, I think they both had a good time. Harley certainly wasn't worn out, although he did puff a little with the effort. He still had enough energy to prance his way home once I got on him. Despite not much riding, the horses exercise themselves between equine antics, and just moving through the snow up and down the hillside. And I know Butch appreciated our efforts!

This seems to be the daily view I'm see on my way to work.  Snow drifts, snow in the road, and shrinking roadways. The drift on the right side of the road is so high, I can no longer see over it, even from the truck! Whatever happened to snow fences? I remember seeing them all the time in Vermont when I was a kid. We sure could use some this winter!

I think the owners of this home should let us live here if for no other reason--I could keep the door shoveled clear! Oh, and it's surrounded by lovely fields with access to many trails. You could have a great outdoor course here!

I've had to clear the doors free from snow drifts a couple of times. It doesn't help that the snow gets plowed up against the sides, but I want to be sure we can get in and out freely and safely. I hacked these snow banks back yesterday, but the prevailing winds have a way of sending the snow right back. One has to test the winds before deciding in which direction to chuck their shovel loads!

Since it's an old barn, it's drafty. This can be a good thing; fresh air lessens the chances of respiratory ailments. But it can be a little disconcerting to listen to the wind curling around the back side, making the old beams creak. Even the horses sometimes stop chewing when a particularly strong gust buffets the doors.

I had to laugh when a fellow equestrian from South Carolina posted a comment about the strong winds forcing her to put on an extra shirt and chase down her dressage ring letters that blew into the woods. She expected some rebuttal comments from those of us up north faced with single and sub-zero temperatures, the same gusting winds, and 3 feet of snow. And I'll bet she's never had to dig her way to the manure pile through snow drifts on snowshoes, or delivered hay via a sled! Or maybe she has and that's why she resides in South Carolina now! Yesterday, in preparation for today's storm, I tramped out the manure pile trail (if I step off the path, I'll sink thigh deep in snow), again ...

....and cleared the snow from the gates and watering tank. It's a long stretch down to the water these days! You can barely see the tank, submerged in the snow in the corner.

After all the barn work and "equine errands", we went home for more snow removal on the house and garage. I tossed some knee-hi's full of salt up along the gutter, hoping to melt some of the ice.  I'd be lost without snowshoes to climb up the shoulder-high embankments to get to the bird feeders, clear the roof, and use at the barn! Three cheers for the Sherpa Snowshoe company! Even though they are no longer in business, these old troupers are still going strong!

Yup, we love winter in Maine. And so does our Kentucky-bred girl, This Chic's Got It, fondly known as Ruffy. Here she is, booting down the hill to see the gang and kick up her heels.

Snow now as high as a giraffe's eye?

 We received another foot (or so) of snow today. I can't really tell with the wind blowing so hard. Put it this way, by the time I went to bring the horses in, the bottom of the gate was nearly buried and I was thigh deep in a drift. Luckily work was closed today. I was able to get the horses blanketed and turned out by 8:30--Rolex was rarin' to go as usual--and then got the stalls cleaned and haynets re-stuffed. Then I picked up some more rice bran and balancer before heading home for dry clothes and a bite to eat. The temperature was only 8 degrees by the time I was ready to head back to the barn at 1:30. I figured the horses would be ready to come in out of the gale.

Harley sporting his Shires Typhoon blanket and snow-tipped ears

Sure enough, Ruffy raced to the gate, glad to come in out of the weather. We don't usually blanket, but with the 20 to 30 mph winds and snow, I figured they'd weather the storm better in blankets, especially since our little shelter really can only fit 3 horses that get along! Vance doesn't like to share the space well, which leaves poor Ruffy out in the cold. Next storm like this, Vancey-pants is staying inside so no one is left out. They cleaned up most of the hay, and no one was overheated or damp, so I think I called it correctly.

Saturday, despite the howling winds, we finally threw our legs over our steeds--the first time in about a month. John wanted to let them rip in the pasture, but I was afraid it would turn into a buckfest, despite the 2 foot plus snowdrifts. Plus, the wind was brutal on my ears. John has the answer for winter riding--a ski helmet! It covers your ears--perfect!

So, off to Orris Falls we went, following a snowshoe trail. The Great Works Land Trust was leading a guided hike which offered a semi-broken trail until they veered off to the beaver pond. Rolex started to follow their path! We got in a nice canter/gallop early on which took the starch out of them nicely. 

But once we left the snowshoed trail, the work got harder for our steeds. We rode out to Emery's Bridge Road and had a road walk home. It was our longest ride this winter, but I was happy to see that neither horse got very sweaty, just a little near the front of the saddle and under their girth. They've stayed in good shape this winter. Maybe we'll get in some skijoring this weekend!

Here's a little movie John took of Harley and me in nearly belly-deep snow, having an awesome time:

Snow as high as an elephant's eye!

I woke to wind whistling around the corners of the house and began to fret. Total whiteout conditions limited my view up and down the street which appeared to have not been plowed in hours. I made coffee and began worrying about getting out to the horses. We began shoveling, battling the winds as we tossed it over shoulder-high embankments. The snow fell at rapid rate, swirling back over the shoveled areas. We finally reached the barn by 12:30 and turned the horses out, first thing.

 This blizzard dumped at least 25 inches, if not more, here in our corner of Maine. Some of the drifts were thigh high. We even had to dig a trench for the horses to get out into the pasture. Mother Nature sculpted some lovely drifts with spindrift swirling everywhere. The horses were stumped at first--only a narrow chute ran along side the fence with a belly-deep drift barring them in. Finally Ruffy took the plunge and led them down the hill.

By the time we finished shoveling a "cul-de-sac" for the horses, mucked out the stalls, broken the ice from the buckets, and began heating water for their mash, it was after 3:00. Encrusted in snow and ice, we didn't have to call too many times before they were at the top of hill, eager to come in out of the storm. Poor Harley had snow stuck to his eyelashes!

Once we removed excess snow and icicles, yes icicles hanging from their chin hairs, a nice nosh of alfalfa hay and beet pulp/rice bran mash was in order. Patient Ruffy waited for John to even groom the ice from her tail. But of course, she was rewarded with a carrot!

Tomorrow--more digging as I'm sure the cul-de-sac will fill in over night. And then back to work...
I'd rather be riding in the new snow! Maybe skijoring by the weekend?