some days

Some days the mud wins. And your horse just gets to eat grass and stand around dirty.

Some days, after five inches of rain, the trails are just too wet to venture out.

this is my apple-chewing concentration face!

And some days there is just enough time before the next storm. The fallen trees have been cleared, the mud is minimal, and the trail stretches before you like lost hope.

And the rain clouds loom. But refrain from adding to the morass, and ferns explode, and we stretch into a trot we haven't done for months.

clouds reflect on Avery Pond

ferns on moss on rocks

I hope for more of those days.

windshield ice feathers

finally a clear sunrise

getting out

I love the rain. We need the rain. (my current mantra, repeat as needed)

But I needed to get out! And so did Major! The rain had stopped for a couple days. The sandy trails should be drained. But I'm also tired of the close trails, as that is all I've been riding. I thought a ride up to Auburn would be a fun diversion, in nice weather, with good footing and be more scenic.

I was wrong on all counts except the scenic portion.

The day was sunny when I left home, but gray skies hung over the stables. SO took my trailer up to Auburn to await our arrival. It took us a bit longer than usual to get ready (to clean off most of the mud), but we were heading out at 9:30am. C and Friday were joining us, the horses were happy to be out. The trails were mostly drained, a few mud puddles here and there, but nice.

nicely drained portion of the trails

the water is rising, yeah!

The water was pouring from the power station, and the Bridge of Death (Mormon Ravine) was as always, scary when halfway across. So Major did his tap dancing act, and all was well. Then the trails got slippier and worse. Red mud was bad, but the wet leaves on trail were worse. That's ok, we can walk. Then a big tree branch, That's ok, we can go UP the steep, soft hillside (good trail horses). And other branch down. That's ok, we can go around this one.

rushing creek

Mormon Ravine (Bridge of Death thinks Major)

Until we got to the tree that blocked the trail. In a steep-sided ravine. Next to the river cliffs. Even if I had remembered my branch saw (note, keep in saddlebag during winter) this was too big of an oak to tackle. And though I diligently looked, there was no way around (I didn't take photos, I was too annoyed, and holding my dancing, pulling horse). It was only three or four miles to Auburn. But eight miles back home. Damn.

old portion of the canal, getting green

some very early naturalized daffodils

Fine, now we'll turn for home. Already pent-up ponies turned it up to full-blown naughty. Trying to walk nicely on slippery trails turned into an argument. Slow trotting on straight, dry places escalated into trying to bolt for home. All the way back. For eight miles.

Plus, I really wanted my sandwich (that was in the trailer. In Auburn.)! By now I was hungry and ready to be done. Got a hold of SO and asked if he could bring the trailer back (he did, and washed it at the car wash, how awesome is that! Not an entirely wasted trip!)

Rattlesnake Bar heading home: now the sun comes out

very fun playing puddle

The horses did stop pulling long enough to play in a puddle at the Rattlesnake Bar staging area. Which was fun until it became a water/mud-splashing contest, so we headed for home again. The horses were not tired in the least, and the trail was a little better in this section, but since horse behavior had not improved, it was still pretty slow going.

happy ferns and moss

determined Major heading home

Back home in one piece I was more tired from 16 miles of walking (farther than I'd planned, we're not training right now!) than a 20 mile trotting ride. But I had my sandwich! Best PB&J ever. And a happy horse, clean and turned back out into the pasture, who promptly dropped for a muddy roll.

I reported the downed tree (though it's far from an easy access, and few foresters are allowed to trim in the state park). I think I'll be staying on my very local but well-drained trails for now. Except it is raining again. I love the rain. We need the rain…

detour: the fog horn

Some people look at them and call them lighthouses. I look at them and only think of the foghorn, because of one short story.

Ever read a story that years and years later just stays with you? For me, that story was (and is) The Fog Horn. It is such a part of memory I cannot remember the first time I read it. It is the shortest of stories that resonates within me, the way a foghorn sounds off into the night. Ray Bradbury was the master of this, and if you want to read his much more eloquent words, look it up (here it is.)

down to the cliff edge

partway there

The Point Reyes Lighthouse sits below the cliff, so it can be below the fogline. You can see it long before you walk down the many steps, and on the clear, amazing day I was there it certainly didn't seem necessary. Now everything is GPS and an LED beacon, but the old lighthouse still stands, guarding the shore since 1870.

watching, waiting

clouded glass barely shows the amazing, old fresnel lens

I've been here plenty of times before, but it had been a few years, and it is always fun to revisit favorite places. Especially when the weather at the coast was as glorious as this! There is a small additional building that housed much of the other equipment, still in place though non-functioning. Giant air-pressure tanks to sound the fog horn, pressure gauges and more.

lighthouse floor

old foghorn

old gauges and dials

lighthouse stairs

not-as-old lock, but still cool

I looked out at the sea, and heard the desolate sound of the fog horn, and even in the blue sky and bright sunlight, I could picture that night from the story. Chilling.

tiny lichen mountain

But you don't stay chilled long when you have to hike back up those stairs! Luckily the view is rewarding, towards South and North beach, a vast expanse of sand and treacherous waves.

Luckily the protected beach at Drake's Bay was windless and uncrowded, a few seabirds below the light cliffs. History and lore says that Sir Francis Drake, sailing for England and going around the world, stopped here in 1579 to repair his ship, The Golden Hind. We just sat on nice beach towels and enjoyed the sun and waves (and a good book.)

white cliffs and empty beach

a found treasure, left for someone else to discover

A quick side-trip over to North Beach, where in the distance you can see the cliff that houses the lighthouse, but the beach is steep and the waves crash with enough power to suck you under. Most people watch from the shore, as a few surfers brave the water. A good place to just walk along, find a log to sit on, and watch the incessant waves.

distant outcropping hides the lighthouse

I would love to go out on that lonely point, on a foggy night, and read that story aloud. Until then, I'll visit in the daylight, and still get chills.

excerpt:
"One day many years ago a man walked along and stood in the sound of the ocean on a cold sunless shore and said "We need a voice to call across the water, to warn ships; I'll make one.  I'll make a voice that is like an empty bed beside you all night long, and like an empty house when you open the door, and like the trees in autumn with no leaves.  A sound like the birds flying south, crying, and a sound like November wind and the sea on the hard, cold shore.  I'll make a sound that's so alone that no one can miss it, that whoever hears it will weep in their souls, and to all who hear it in the distant towns.  I'll make me a sound and an apparatus and they'll call it a Fog Horn and whoever hears it will know the sadness of eternity and the briefness of life.""

The Fog Horn blew."

Tahoe Rim blues

So where did this go wrong?

I've been in a bit of a funk since my Tahoe Rim pull. My last pull (Wild West) was my own boot gluing failure. That I can live with. This time I actually broke my horse. And was the only pull.

While he doesn't show any lameness now (and was fine a few hours after the pull), I do want to give him a few weeks off and do a longer ride to see if there is actually a problem. He was also not done at the ride, pulsing in immediately, all As…except for gait. Damn. Then we had to wait a long time (understandably, it's a hard-to-access vet check) and Major was NOT happy that we were not moving down the trail. Spinning, calling, I just tied him to a tree and let him dance around...for hours. (Hopefully if his leg was injured he didn't do any more to it!)

Where are my friends? If I keep calling maybe someone will answer!

Where did they go? I'm ready, I'm ready!

I am second-guessing everything: Is this from my minimal training lately? We hadn't done more than 12 miles at a time, maybe more miles would have brought up this issue (whatever is it/was)? Or was there just a rock with our name on it?

Don't laugh at my sideburns, I get halter rubs. Call me "Wolverine."

It also doesn't help that I came back to chaos at work. And fire burning down the canyons. My brain is tired and full.

So I'll reevaluate later. For now something a little different. Saturday I am taking a friend who has never even seen a horse up close to meet Major. He better be on his best behavior! I don't think he's the type to give pony rides on, but he likes to be brushed and likes apples, which should be enough for both of us.

onward...another day.

lake to lake

I took Major for a short drag/ride. First he is a slug, then a crazy maniac. Seriously, he keeps me on my toes! Heading out I dragged him down the road, strung out behind me. Found a good rock and mounted up, he walked out but not too enthusiastically. Then I start worrying that he is ok. I should know better.

This was just a short tack test ride (I'd washed and rearranged stuff). I just wanted to check all the equipment before leaving to the Tahoe Rim ride. Through the forest Major was a slug, so I went down to the lake. The whole lake trail is already exposed, the lake very low, drought concerns creeping in.

Tiny boat between Major's ears? Nope, a floating potty! We're classy like that.

At the lake, in the nice sand (and rocks), finally a nice trot. Not too fast, loose rein. A few lovely collected canters too. About the half way point things speeded up a bit. Then more. Soon I had a start-of-an-endurance-ride fire breathing dragon. So I took the rock trail, to make him think. It worked a bit, till we turned for home into the forest.

low lake, exposed rocks, amazing clouds, great horse, amazing view

I did ask only for trot, and I got it. The big huge one. We ran by a jogger on the wide part of the trail. Then a good sized deer skeleton. Finally slowed and saw some other friends from a nearby ranch. They joked that Major saw other horses and would want to join them. Oh no way, we were going home!

Back home I untacked and put my tack in my trailer, one last thing to pack later. Then Tahoe this weekend, from one lake to another! I am totally looking forward to the Tahoe Rim Ride, lucky that I got in, hoping Major and I are up for the challenge.

But there is a lot to pack before that!

that's more like it

A week of no riding after our grand misadventure at Cronan. No big injuries, just not enough time. Which gave the weather time to warm up and become January perfect.

Major and I headed out, already it was probably 50 degrees and sunny. Puddles were frozen in the shade, but we flew to Granite Bay. He was a bit spookier than usual, leftover worry from last week? We saw some people bouldering (small rock climbing) and he just froze. We walked up to them, "Oh, they're people" he realized, and walked off again. I kept him moving, as moving feet didn't have as much time to think about silly. But I also tried to keep it at a trot. At the canter I kept getting some silly jumps forward, not in the mood for that!

We were the first to use the trough that day, as evidenced that it was still frozen over too! I was about to leave the staging area when some recent arrivals took off ahead of me. That's fine, I'll wait, they looked like they had their hands full. Major sure wanted to go straight after tham, but we waited a bit. Not long enough, as they were still up ahead, circling naughty horses. Again, we waited, and when they cut on a side trail we kept going.

I had wanted to ride down by the lake, but they were having a large mountain biking event. There were tents and vendors and lots of people. Combine that with Major's amped spookiness, I decided to be prudent and take the high road. Literally.

dam nice view

We cantered up the big hill, which is fairly straight and graveled and let him run it out. At the top a slight breather, and back down the other side.

near the beach, ears says "home is that way!" though it's actually not.

This is where the American River ride went UP. We went down, met up with cyclists and runners, no issues. Ate a bit of grass by the beach. I was going to continue on as the road circles around. Major did not realize it was faster to go home the road, and wanted to go back the way we came. Fine, we'll take the longer path. And back up the hill we went. Problem was he tried to channel a bit of the bad horse from American River, so at the top he got stopped and had to work and think. And we walked down the other side much better.

Back at the staging area we were very calmly standing at the trough, I was happy for his quietness. Then here come those same horses we followed out, coming back! They were amped up and super jiggy, Major saw them and thought it must be an endurance ride to have horses that silly! I should be silly too! Um, no, not so much.

We headed home. He was still pretty forward, but under control. He is still good and slows over all the bad rocky spots, but slowing down just got him extra crabby. So fine, we'll go father. At the forest we usually turn left. Nope, continued onto rock trail. His steps faltered…thwarted!

rock trail view

Rock trail is hard, so went for a bit till his brain re-engaged, and headed home. We were able to actually get a nice walk through much of the forest, Major was super sweaty after a good workout, and got mash, his cooler, and I attempted to dry him off. But it was so nice and warm, I wasn't too concerned that he was still wet, till he rolled in the dirt and it became mud. Hopefully it'll just brush off tomorrow, right?

scratch my sweaty head, please?

I probably let him get away with too much this ride. Though I needed to just move, and so did he. Sometimes that just works.

Cronan Ranch: good and very bad

I headed out with Major and C and her horse Friday for a fun new adventure at Cronan Ranch. It was three-quarters awesome adventure, and one-quarter absolutely terrible. The question is: how DO you desensitize your horse to parasailers on the trail?

icy parking

It was cold and icy when we arrived. We parked at the nice new Magnolia staging area. C had brought along some crack hay (alfalfa mix) for Major, so he never even looked up or moved as I saddled up.

delicious crack hay and ready to go

"connecter" trail, spelled wrong on every sign. But good signage otherwise!

And we headed out. The trails were a mix of mud, nice footing and ice. Sometimes frozen mud ice. But the views were worth it, the horses able to handle the mud and they handily trotted through much of it. We were both booted in front, barefoot behind, and had pretty good grip. And Major was SO excited, but good, to be on new trails. Ears pricked, he looked around every corner, wondering where we were going. No wonder he gets bored at home!

Add caption"Why am I standing in the freezing water?"

We happily trotted along, the trail under trees and along the river, crosses a creek, up a steep muddy hill. Down by the river is a lovely spot, which is inaccessible to the horses in the summer, when hundreds of river rafters (this is the south fork of the American river) converge on the spot every day.

not very patiently waiting equines

I'm so tortured

gratuitous cute face picture

We stopped and ate lunch, the horses were not happy to be tied to nearby trees, when they normally get to be in our faces while we try to eat. I still saved Major some PB&J.

old movie set

After lunch we headed through the valley. There is an old homestead, which is actually an old Michael Landon movie set. Then we took a fabulous ridge trail, with sweeping views, great trotting, and some gallops up the hills. I did learn to stay farther back from a horse galloping in mud, after getting a clod of mud on my sunglasses!

valley panorama from the ridge trail

A break for some photos on the ridge, where we saw horseback riders, hikers, bikes and parasailers in the distant valley. We headed down the hill, which was still completely solid ice at 2pm in the afternoon.

Last photo of the day, parasailer a tiny white dot in the distance

At the bottom of the hill is the first staging area, and a spring for the horses. They of course were totally not interested, and we began to take the Down and Up trail home. There was a parasailer far up on a hill, and another on the ground a few hundred feet away.The horses were just walking, and I was JUST thinking about getting off and walking, when the sail caught the wind and lifted into the air.

The next few moments happened so quickly, yet in slow motion. Major turned and bolted, I steered him up the hill, hoping it would slow him. I had his head turned, trying to stop him, and he'd slow to my whoas, see the monster/parachute behind him and take off again. And we were heading for a barbed-wire fence, which I'm pretty sure he didn't see or even care about. So I decided to bail off, and hold on, which I did, landing on my feet, with Major hitting the ends of the reins as I dug my feet in. He madly circled around, completely terrified.

And I looked for C. And didn't see her. And Major continued frantically run around, the parachute still in the air, I saw Friday down the trail, looking at Major. Friday saw him and trotted closer. And I saw C down on the trail, gingerly sitting up. I couldn't get nearer to her, as both horses were almost oblivious to me. I let Friday go, his reins over his neck, knowing he had already come back to Major, he probably wouldn't leave again. The parachute continued to billow. C managed to croak out that she was OK. Well, alive and not unconscious!

She was able to get up and hobble over, already a black-eye was forming. Friday was still completely an idiot, Major calmed down as we left the area. C was NOT going to be able to walk this off, and we were at least five miles from the trailer. So we decided I'd leave her at the closer staging area and ride back to get the trailer myself.

Major had no problems leaving his friend behind, but I did! I was worried, but there were people around if C needed more help. So I headed back, though I walked past the parachute area. I couldn't take that trail, there were still other parasailers out there. So I had to go back the long way. But Major was a rock star, calmed right down, and we trotted home, making good tine where there wasn't slick mud.

Luckily C called and got a ride back with another nice equestrian. So she would be able to rest at the trailer till I got there. The woman who dropped her off said it would be a long while till I got there. She probably isn't familiar with determined fast riders and horses, as I showed up fairly quickly. Major was still barely sweaty, the day was so cold, but he got a mash and his cooler. C was not moving so good, and we packed up the horses, and I drove us home.

Good things to know how to do:

• be in good enough shape to run/walk quickly with your horse on trail, I could have hiked home the five miles no problem.
• be able to drive another person's rig
• have your cell phone ON your person (mine is always on my leg)
• desensitize your horse to a parasailer

OK, on the last one, a bit hard to train for! Major is pretty trusting of me, and goes through and over everything I point him at, is one of the bravest horses I know. But was completely freaked out. I'm sure there are horses there who have no problem with it. Take him out to the area on a lead and expose him? That's the only thing I can think of. Anyone have a similar scary experience? Or a horse that handles parasailers? How?!

I'm glad C is only bruised and banged up. I have a sore shoulder, the horses are fine. It could have been much worse. So, a great ride, except for a few minutes...that's all it takes to ruin the day!