Evening meander in the woods

Home from the forest

This hot steamy weather doesn't inspire me to ride, but ride we must to keep Harley fit (and the exercise won't hurt me either!). A breeze kicked up as we prepared to leave, but once in the woods, the deerflies were horrible. I planned to do the Jepson Farm loop, only in reverse to keep things interesting for Harley.

About half way through the ride, with flies swarming around us both (nothing works except the face mask) I decided to cut it short. By this time, I'd made him cross a mucky brook (one he's balked at a few times now), and we had a nice trot down the trail through hardwoods and hemlocks. When we reached the beaver pond, I made Harley go off into the open woods, along the pond edge (Yikes, open water). There are a few hardwood stumps showing the chew marks of beaver, but I didn't hear or see any critters. I think the crackling of sticks and needles warned them off.  It was a little after 6 p.m. a good time to see wildlife. I don't know if Harley thinks that's such a great idea, and maybe I'm a fool to try wildlife watching aboard him! As I thought about this, something started screeching across the pond--two foxes? Bobcats? Definitely not housecats! Harley's ears perked up and he swung his head in the direction of the sounds, then started moving away, as if to say, "Time to leave. I don't like the sound of that". But he didn't spook--good boy, Harley. Not there he hadn't already had a few shudders at "things in the woods", but he didn't try to whirl away. We trotted along the trail complete with a nice halt and canter, all done quite gentlemanly. He's doing so well in the space of 15 months.

I think we were both happy to be home--rumbling sounded in the distance, and roiling grey clouds amassed over the barn. Harley got a nice bath, and so did Callie Lou! (Thank you, John.) As you can see, I have a sweet birch fly swatter in my left hand. We may have to invest in a nice whisk, and a neck cover, to keep those pesky bugs off poor Harley. I love the long days of summer, but I'm always glad when the flies fade away with the coming of fall!

Too dang hot!

Sheltering shade before the ride

Both Harley and I were unmotivated last evening. I let him lollygag down the trail while I whisked away deer and horseflies. The air was thick and heavy, the setting sun still bathing us with its heat. We ambled as far as the deadfall I kissed last week (a.k.a. Lisa's tree) and tried bushwacking around it twice, only to give up. Harley was more than ready to turn back for home, and quite honestly, so was I. He was inspired to break into a trot a few times, but otherwise it was a walking tour for the woods.

When I got back to the barn, Michelle was giving Echoe a snack, and just hanging out with a friend. She too, thought it was too hot for riding. Harley ate for a bit, while I groomed him, enjoying Echoe's company. When he'd had enough, I turned him out, just in time for Pete to arrive and bring them back in for dinner. By the time I left, thunder rumbled in the distance, the wind kicked up, and ominous dark clouds hovered over the barn. I raced him, remembering I had laundry on the line and one scared dog.

The Echoe Factor

Harley is a different horse when we're riding with Echoe and Michelle. Echoe is his best buddy and trail riding mentor. In his mind, always follow Echoe (even when you and your rider can barely fit), do what Echoe does (stop and munch), and always take the shortest route home (even if it mean bushwacking through the deadfalls). He likes to quarter Echoe, almost like he's being ponied at the track. This also means Michelle can reach out and give him a rub, or he can rub his sweaty head on Echoe's side. So in an attempt to get Harley to lead, I had to switch him with my 12 inch leafy birch twig (doubles as a fly swatter). He reluctantly stepped out, only to fall back when he realized Echoe wasn't right behind him. Sometimes it's easier to just give in, especially when it's 85 in the shade, and so humid the rocks are sweating. Harley can be a handful though, if the pace is anything but a walk. Suddenly his racing life comes back, and he needs to pass Echoe (even if the trail is only one horse wide), or run up on his rump. This doesn't work so well, so I need to be out front. Then his canters are much less of a snorting, dash, and more relaxed.

Our July 4th ride was hot and steamy, but he was a good boy. Dashman, the dog, had a blast, jumping into every bog wallow he could find, and scaring the bejeezus out of Harley when he splashed out of each mudhole. Good dog, Dash! Oh, settle down, Harley! Poor John was across town, riding little Nina and spending as much time going sideways as forward. As a treat, he can ride Harley late this week.

I killed a little time this weekend looking at Harley's auction history online. I knew he sold for $50,000 as a youngster at Keenland, where he went into training at New Episode Training Center in Ocala, Florida. They must have had high hopes for my boy since this is the facility that trained Funny Cide. A year later, he was sold at auction for $8000. He ended up at Suffolk Downs in claiming races. Oh, how the mighty Halawa Moon had fallen. He may not have had the speed, but he's proven to John and I that he certainly has the staying power. And now he's living the life of Riley in our corner of Maine, munching grass (and lots of grain, in true Thoroughbred fashion), going out on adventure rides, and hanging out with the gang. The biggest stress he faces now is how to get past those scary goats or giant boulders without being eaten! I think he knows he's landed in a safe place, with lots of mollycoddling and friends.

I fought the log and the log won!

I'm thinking a lacrosse helmet, with full face mask, might be the way to go for trail riding. What started off as a great ride, turned into a bloodied brisk walk home and a trip to the E.R.

John was at the other barn, riding Nina again, and I'd planned to do a short ride, the lollipop loop, so I could get back and pick him up without too much waiting. Harley was at the top of hill, swatting flies when I got to the barn. I groomed him, saddled up and headed out. It was a warm night, and the bugs were noisome, but not terrible. He ambled along at a slow pace until I urged a trot out of him. He was in a lazy mood, I guess. No troubles at the trail junction (where he usually tries to turn for home), no troubles when he got through the clear cut, and no troubles at the scary rocks (giant glacial erratics seem to terrify Harley). I thought, "He is awesome tonight. What a good boy, Harley."

Once we turned for home, he stepped on the gas, doing his power walk stride. Up and over Spring Hill we went until a downed tree stopped us. I decided to jump down and try to get between the tree and a witch hazel sapling caught underneath. Maybe I could free the sapling and get by. Well, Harley tried to bull his way under and that didn't work. So he started backing up, unknowingly catching a limb from the downed tree on his saddle pad. I saw it poking him and tried to move him away, unwittingly letting in snap free, right into my face.

I stumbled backwards, trying to keep hold of Harley, and realized blood was pouring onto the ground. I took off my trusty bandanna to staunch the flow, but it was quickly soaked. Harley was only a little rattled by my stumbling around, but I felt a little woozy when I tried to remount. So I thought I'd walk a bit. Then I realized I had a chunk of lip hanging and called John. Of course, he couldn't do much. He was miles away with another horse. I filled him in on my escapade and said I was heading back to the barn and would be over at the other barn a.s.a.p.  By now, I felt less lightheaded and remounted Harley (thank you for standing still for me, my boy) and we race-walked back to the barn. I didn't want to get him too hot--the sooner I cooled him out, the sooner I could get my lip sewn up!

Poor Harley got a quick wash down, not the usual hour I spend doting on him, post-ride, and booted out into the pasture. I raced over to meet John, where I was given a bag of ice for my messed up face.
Off the hospital we sped, where I got three stitches. But what I sight I am!

When I got to work, the first words I said was, "This wasn't Harley's fault." He was my four-legged ambulance until I reached wheels.  Later this week, I have a date with a tree and my trusty axe!

Harley takes the lead!

Harley likes being in the front, he just wasn't able to stay there long enough to be a winner at the track. But he was stellar on Sunday when he led Nina (the horse John is schooling) out on a trail ride. When she first caught sight of him, she whinnied, more than happy to trail along with his company. Both horses proved skittish crossing some mucky water and going into Knight's Pond. Nina proved braver than Harley; he needed a few smacks and Nina out front to cave in and get wet. Of course, there was some tooth grinding, but he eventually realized the pond wouldn't swallow him.

We parted company about half way, John riding Nina back, and Harley happy to be heading home. He briefly realized Nina wasn't along and paused a few times, then decided, "Ah, the heck with her, I'm going home."

I rode down familiar trails I hadn't ridden in about a year. What a difference this time! All those puddles that Harley refused to go in before, he gallantly paddled through without a twitch. He had a few "hard looks", not really spooks, at some stumps and large rocks, the usual "monsters", but was awesome the whole way home. What a big brave boy, Harley!

Halawa Moon Hits the Trails

Lunch stop

7:30 a.m. John and I arrived at the barn and fed Harley. The rest of the gang stood outside, swishing at the flies, wondering when they would get their meal. He gobbled it down while we groomed him and gathered our gear in the cool morning air for the day's 15 mile trail ride.  Bright sunshine set last night's rain steaming off the barn roof. Brushed and tacked, I sent Harley and John down the road with plans to meet at a dicey bridge crossing.

While we waited on John & Harley at the bridge, Callie and I explored the plant life and wildlife along the ditches. The roadside looks like a forest primeval; dripping hemlocks with an understory of bunchberry, rhodora, cinnamon fern, tall avens, wintergreen, clintonia, and bunchberry. I inhaled the odor of earthy, damp woods while frogs leaped in and out of mud puddles. Then I heard the clop of Harley appoaching. Head high, peering ahead at the construction equipment and roadside markers, he gave John a few whirls and some reverse gears before I intervened. To save energy and time, I led him across, past hoses snaking over the bridge, spewing up little streams of water (to cure the concrete), large idle machinery, and other scary construction debris. I'd hook up with them at the ride's start, in about another mile.

10:00 a.m. Riders began heading out as others were just arriving. Horses of all shape, size, and color along with riders of the same, passed by me as I got back in the truck and headed to the lunch stop where I'd act, once again, as part of the sag wagon support team.

12 noon: Voices came from the woods as riders began appearing. Then along came my boys, emerging from the hemlock forest. Harley was doing well, and everything was going fine, except for the cheapo bitless bridle which broke. Good thing John had a spare! We stripped the tack from Harley, gave him a wash and a chance to drink and have some treats. One rider asked me, "Is he done for the day?" I said, "No, just putting on a dry girth and saddle pad." She replied, "I want to come back in the next life as your horse!" Yes, he's spoiled. No other riders had the luxury of a waiting groom and fresh gear!

Can I go home now?

3:00 p.m. I sat under a tree reading, waiting for John and Harley to arrive. As his group came out, he said to the rider with him, "There's his owner, right there", pointing at me. It turns out John met up with a woman who knew Harley when he boarded at her stable. What a small world.


John told me Harley jogged most of the way back and asked if I wanted to hack him home. Sure enough, he jogged most of the way with me too. As usual, he was anxious to be back safe at home. I asked John how he would grade Harley's performance. "B+ heading out, but when he saw horses in front of him, he wanted to be out in front of them. It's in his breeding Coming home, a C-.
Oh Harley, I see we still have some work to do. But what a good boy--all said and done, he did about 20 miles handily.

Harley thinking this is the park class, but looking good!

Another rainy week ahead...and Harley's Big Ride!

John has dodged raindrops all week in an attempt to keep Harley's exercise regimen on course. They are registered for Harley's first organized trail ride this coming Sunday. Since we don't have a trailer, John will have to add an extra few miles to the planned 15 mile ride. I'm the support system and chief groom. This will be a proving ground for Harley--how he goes with a large group of horses, none from his herd! His conditioning and stamina should be fine for this ride--John gets to be the guinea pig jockey!

Harley seems happy with the bitless bridle John bought. In fact, he seems more relaxed--no grinding jaws when he's agitated. I'm anxious to see how Harley does and have crossed my fingers for this cold rainy weather to break. The forecast is hot and sunny, which also means the bugs will be back!

A Weekend Spent in the Saddle

I took a few days off (originally to attend my college reunion), but due to the expense, opted to stay home and get things done around the garden, the house, etc. Of course, I was easily sidetracked by Harley and the glorious weather. I'd much rather spend time in the saddle, than cleaning and doing other household drudgery. My garden is suffering from lack of attention--those poor seedlings are in serious need of spreading their roots!

So I gardened for awhile, then escaped to the barn! To keep things fresh and interesting, I rode Harley  out to the old Jepson farm. The bugs haven't been too bad yet, due to chilly nights and stiff breezes. We took a different trail back, encompassing an extra loop out past North Point. He did very well; better in the woods than on the road. Our only hiccup in a nearly perfect ride was a dog running out of the woods at him. He's a little twitchy about barking dogs in the underbrush--the natural instinct to flee takes over. Thankfully, the owner got the dog after a little whirling and some side-stepping.

Sunday was a short ride--only out to Orris Falls and over the hilltop. The trail is still blocked by a downed tree, so we had to backtrack part of the way. For an added bit of excitement, we went up to Big Bump and under the power line, coming out behind the Savage's house. There's always something for Harley to gawk at and snort about: a big black snowmobile trailer, the deer target, a snowplow, and this time, a moving tractor! Yikes! I took the easy way out, jumped off and walked him down the drive and  up the road. Good thing too--passing the goats proved interesting. They had the nerve to "baahhh" at him! That sent him over the top as he pranced back to the barn.

Harley commenting on the proposed route

Yesterday was the topper! We planned to explore a new leg of our "Agamenticus" route. What was purported to be a two and a half hour ride, of course, turned into about four and a half. The weather was perfect, though, not too hot, with a nice breeze, keeping bugs to a minimum. Michele arrived in time to join us. John and I did the ride switcheroo, using the "sag wagon" to bring water, and carry Michele's dog, Dasher, around the road portions.

John rode all the way out and I rode back. We found our way (good thing I had the map) through the "unknown" portions of the trail, encountering bridges and a bit of muck, but overall, a great loop. Harley was awesome, especially so with the calming support of Echoe at his side. The only scary bit was the pig--yes, Harley saw his first pig, I believe, and was only sure about one thing--we needed to get away! He pranced the rest of the way down the road until he was back on a familiar trail, the last leg leading homeward.

Memorial Day Ride

On the Norman Mill Trail

Harley had a good workout on Memorial Day. We did the rider switcheroo again, changing riders a couple of times. The non-rider drove the "sag wagon" equipped with sponge, scraper, water (for humans and horse), carrots, and hay. We'd hoped to get an early start with the temperature predicted to hit the high eighties. But of course, we didn't get to the barn until nine or so. Just as we were about ready to depart, Michelle showed up. She grabbed Echoe, gave him a quick grooming, and jumped aboard. We were off with plans to reach Mountain Road over by Mt. Agamenticus.

Harley was happy to have Echoe out front, keeping any scary things at bay, especially those giant boulders at the top of the lollipop loop. We rode down to the turnoff on Emery's Bridge Rd. where Michelle turned back. Harley wasn't happy to lose his trail buddy and have to head out on his own. With some reluctance, he moved forward, but kept looking back towards Echoe's fading hoofbeats.

I missed one turn and wound up coming to a gated pasture. When I turned back, Harley thought, "Oh good, we're going home." He wasn't happy when I turned him in the other direction. As we emerged on Bennett Lot Rd., I could see the pickup parked at the Normal Trail pullout. John stripped off the saddle and bridle, and we gave Harley and nice wash down. After a little break, and once Harley dried off, we tacked back up, and John headed out towards Mountain Rd.  I drove around to meet him there at high noon where we would give Harley another break and wash down.

By now it was pretty hot, but Harley seemed to be doing fine. John said he'd meet me back at Bennett Lot for another break/wash. When I met him there, Harley, now happy to be heading home, didn't want to stop, so I met him back at Emery's Bridge where Harley, again got washed and this time ate some dampened hay and drank some water. Now it was my turn. I'd ride him back to the barn. He stepped right out, jogging up hills, still feeling strong. He was out for over 4 hours and did very well. John wants to take him on a S.M.A.R.T. Ride trail ride in a few weeks, so we're conditioning him to be ready for a ride 15 to 20 miles long. So far, so good! Good job, Harley

Harley gets a day off

John wanted to work a young horse this morning, and given her separation anxiety, I tagged along to ride  her stable mate. The filly was full of the dickens, making a possible trail ride look like it might never happen. Once we got John aboard, I straddled the extra-wide gal (think stout quarter horse build), and we headed out. Both were a little spooky--I don't think the older mare has been ridden in over a year! I don't know if I was being foolish, or brave. It was kind of like reliving my old Intercollegiate Show days--get on a horse you don't know (and this time in a western saddle!) and see how it goes! After riding down a woodsy trail which involved much thrashing through the woods, we turned for home. 

I spent too many hours in the sun planting potatoes, squash, melon, cabbage, and carrots (can never have too many carrots). I threw in the towel around 4 p.m. and I still hadn't made it out see Harley. So I dragged myself into the truck, carrots in hand, and drove to the barn.

Harley had a little lunch while I groomed him and picked off ticks. As I brushed, I noticed how glossy he's become in the last week or so. All the winter fuzz is gone! And he's getting more fit with each ride.

Mr. Chow Hound, thinking about being outside with the rest of the gang, keeps trying to walk away on me. I put a rope up in the doorway so he'd think it's a stall guard. And what else are "stall guards" good for? To try and crib on--or just play with. What a silly boy!