Dear horse thief

To whom it may concern (horse thief!),

I would like to request that you return my horse ASAP. Sure his cute face is deceptively similar, but I noticed the changes.

Do not be deceived, the original version is missing!

I did not notice at first, as we walked through the muddy forest. We were going to keep it quiet, a nice barefoot ride on newly-soft trails. We picked up a trot without any crabby ears, and he listened nicely to slow through the puddles and slick muck.

first puddles of the year

on our way to losing his mind

Out at the lake, this "new" Major was apparent: this horse only comes with three gaits: jig, manic extended trot, and runaway canter.

Luckily he also came with a stop. Notice I did not say a "whoa." But he could be dragged to a stop eventually. I took some photos of the lake for evidence. See the pricked, excited ears? This is not the crabby, supposedly tired from a season of training horse I had two weeks ago. This is not even the horse I had last week on a nice lake ride with friends. Some dark evening you came and replaced that horse with the "new" Major.

threatening skies, low lake, excited ears

"my" rock high and dry

see all the rocks? no wonder there is Granite Bay and Rocklin towns nearby

canal puddle muck, this poor horse had to walk right through the middle after stupidly trying to walk on the side

At this point I was pretty suspicious, but the next part of the trail confirmed it. We left the canal trail to take the upper trail home. This crazy beast continued the manic 14-mph trotting, through my entreaties to "easy," "slow" and "whoa, dammit."

here there were trees to "slow" our flight. Excited horse didn't even want to eat grass!

If you were testing my resolve to one-rein-stop on slippery singletrack and muddy dropoffs, don't worry, I always maintain that ability. This Major did too, little good it did. Over and over. And again. Repeat. Oh boy.

I thought we'd continue on, to at least wear this new horse out a bit, and continued towards Rattlesnake Bar. I thought the craziness would dissapate, because this new horse still obviously knows where home is, but he wanted to just keep going! It however did not seem prudent, as this trail was way too slick for antics.

This trail seems to lead to the Hobbit Shire...tucked among the rocks I suspect.

Turning for home it was totally obvious that my horse was switched. Even on a trail my original Major knew, this horse was doing the little jumping spooky my Major used to do, long ago. And jigging. When asked to maintain a simple trot, I only got freight-train pulling. So we jigged home.

I do thank you for at least leaving a semblance of brains, so when we started down the muddy embankment and started sliding this Msjor kept his footing and did not worry at all as we slid about 10 feet. He also clambered over the newly-fallen tree blocking the access road/route home.

On the road home we can often walk quietly. This horse had to prance, so I walked alongside, trying to keep up. At home he tried to roll in the arena with his saddle still on, and once untacked pretended to be the original Major, by going right back to his leftover breakfast, and asking for carrots.

Now, I know some of this may be my fault: I joked with another rider the other day, saying we could mix her horse's excitability with Major's calm attitude. Maybe you're not a thief, maybe this is some sort of "Freaky Friday" (the original, not the dumb new one) or "Big" and magical powers were involved.

Either way, I'd like my original horse back. Any one of these too-early dark evenings would be fine. Sooner than later would be best, this Major was exhausting. This Major will require some arena work, which I have very little time for, and remedial walking behavior lessons. At your earliest convenience, I'll leave the gate unlocked.

Thank you.

rateability

Zero. Zilch. Nada. Nothing. I had nothing that would get Major to listen yesterday. We did 10 miles, probably half of it was circling, backing, backtracking our trail, and stopping. I tried about every training tool I had.

I wanted to go out on the canal trail because it had been awhile and I know the lake level is creeping up. Also it was great weather before a series of storms rolls in, so my (awesome!) boss let me leave early, and we headed out. Through the forest he was fine, and heading towards Beeks Bight was fast but manageable. Turn around, all Hell broke loose.

the water creeps back in

I was going to head back through the forest, but with the bad attitude Major was having I thought we needed more miles in an open area. The canal is good for circling and such, more open. I was able to keep him in a trot, barely, but he wasn't listening. I'd do some form of correction (it depended on the terrain and misbehavior) but obviously wasn't truly getting his mind back focused on me.

I know we can go around, you're going through it

He even was in such a mood to spook pretty good at a tree stump and a nothing. And real spooks, not the usual Major jump-in-place spooks. Full of it and ticking me off.

So we were going home through Sterling Point, and he was still pulling (though we were walking along the road, no trotting there) so I turned away from home and went through the neighborhood. He thought warp speed was a good option, I kept it back as best I could. Walking just led to annoying prancing and jigging no matter what I did, so trotting used the forward momentum more constructively. We got to a place where we could go into the forest or back down to the lake. As much as I would have liked to do more miles, darkness was coming, and I was getting tired of fighting.

So we were back in the forest and I used to cantering road over and over until he would canter controlled and listen to whoa. Keeping him at a trot wasn't working, it was just a pulling contest he was winning. Barely won a battle, after the ride felt like I'd lost the war.

With this kind of behavior, how can I even think of doing an endurance ride next month? I can't even get him to listen when we're alone! I think the next month of riding will be all listening, not for conditioning, because he is fit (probably too much so) for a 25. Of course, now that winter arrived late all sorts of rain is coming, which makes riding that much more of a slippery slope.

Back at the barn they asked how my ride was, and instinctively I said "fine." Then I qualified that my horse had been an a**hole, I was a mess riding, it had actually been a crap ride. But, still, it was riding, which is still better than sitting at my work desk, or cleaning the house, or grocery shopping, or pretty much anything else.

Oh, and to top it off there seems to be a saddle fit issue! He was a bit sore after our 25 mile practice ride, and this time had big dry patches towards the rear panels of the saddle. Nothing else seems to have changed, so I'm also wondering if it is how he's carrying himself. One more worry!

Even after all that I did laugh at my sweaty horse: with long winter hair he gets a pretty good likeness of a David Hasslehoff chest hair thing going on. Sexy.

Sing it: I'm too sexy for this...

Arrgghh! All this is Fun? Frustrating? I can think of a few other F words I used...

trouble

A gorgeous day. Gone were the clouds and cold from earlier in the week. Maybe we should have known it was too perfect and would spell trouble.

Major was heading out with his nemesis, Ziggy (though I quite like his owner B!) I think Ziggy really doesn't care, but Major remembers putting up with all his sh*t when Ziggy was learning, and just doesn't like him. Too bad, deal with it, right? So the trip started with a lot of crabby ears.

They were raring to go. We headed out, deciding which way to go, and chose towards Avery Pond. In the first couple miles Ziggy tried to double-barrel Major going down a small incline! We were too far back to worry much, though I still hate seeing those feet come flying in the air, head high (of course many feet away but they look closer!)

Go-Go-GO went the horses. Try to slow-slow-slow went the humans. And the battle continued. We also kept meeting runners and hikers, many of whom mentioned a tree down. We thought we'd assess that situation when we got to it. A pair of riders said the tree was down and couldn't be gone around, again, we'd deal with it when we got there. Then we got there. It looked like a pretty big tree, but some hikers were trying to roll it off the trail. The tree was swinging and swaying, people were talking and yelling, and then it just crashed over the edge of the cliff! Ziggy was having no part of that, and turned to run the other direction. Only problem was Major was in the way, so Major thought that must be a good idea too (though he hadn't reacted at first). Only a couple strides, got them both stopped, and calmed enough to walk past. Well, Major did the leading now. Past the scary big backpacks of the great scout troop that cleared the trail, we thanked them profusely and continued on,

Eventually we got nice controlled trots out of everyone, but and then slowed to a sedate walk to cross a bridge. And DOWN went Ziggy! It happened so fast I didn't even see it all. Major and I hadn't started onto the bridge yet, but Ziggy went down on his side, B hanging on to the railing, then lurched himself back up, B still on! We all stood in shock. I crossed the bridge, looked them both over, couldn't see anything, and tried to figure it out.

The bridge is in the shade, maybe it was slippery? Didn't seem wet though. Ziggy had been walking nicely, not jigging, boots in front and bare behind. After B composed herself, we walked on, Ziggy seemed ok, but we were all a bit shaken. What could we have done differently? Nothing. That is hard, because we always analyze everything that happens, but this time? Nothing we could think of.

We continued on to the pond, Ziggy very wary of all the bridges now. We got to the trough right before the pond, and neither horse wanted to drink. And Ziggy also decided he wanted nothing to do with continuing on, and decided to throw a fit. It wasn't about the next bridge, he just did not appreciate B telling him what to do. So after a bit of nice riding and correction, we finally got to Avery Pond.

Oh, but not before I fell in the trough! OK, that part was funny at least. Using the rock trough edge is a great way to get back on your tall horse, unless you are paying attention to the other rider's issues and step directly into the trough. Squishy wet sneaker, sock, pants and chap, at least it wasn't cold out!

At the pond, we were tired. We'd only gone 7 miles, but all the events were just a lot. Major calms right down and doesn't hold onto anxiety, whereas Ziggy was a sweaty mess. Ziggy also had a cut on his stifle (from his hind hoof, the bridge? not sure), so we rested a bit, the horses ate some grass, and we decided to call it a day and head back.

a calmer moment at Avery Pond

The horses were up for that! But we were careful going home. B realized she was holding her breath across all the bridges, which doesn't help calm your horse, and I had a challenge holding back Major, who wanted to canter (I don't think so) but we mostly trotted (though Ziggy in his anxiety thought he had to canter to keep up.) Major finally got his nice power-walk going home, and did drink well at the final trough. I just breathed a sigh of relief when we made it to the home stretch, got off the horses, loosened the girth, took out his bit, and let Major eat some grass.

Back home, Ziggy's injury looked superficial, thank goodness. It was warm enough for a quick bath and when I turned Major out he ran off, dropped and rolled (in the grass, but on the poop, of course) and then proceeded to gallop about the pasture a bit. Not tired!

I was! What a ride. I'll take uneventful any day. My old riding instructor used to say something like horses were "hours of riding punctuated by moments of sheer terror." Redheaded Endurance also had a scary ride experience this week. Everyone be careful out there!