thankful, even if

I'm looking forward to some family time today (I don't get to see them that often) even if my Dad and I will support opposing football teams, someone will surely say something unintentionally rude and annoy someone else, and everyone will eat too much delicious dinner to eat my pie. 

Appreciating beautiful views and great trails while riding even if my awful horse had no brakes yesterday. 

Loving my cute old kitty who rolls in the dirt even if the next thing she does is track it all inside onto the couch.

There are always the even ifs. I just remember look past them for the good things, today of all days. Happy Thanksgiving to everyone, even if...

And remember to save room for pie.

the universe laughed

Went hiking for the lost hoof boot on a lovely, rainy Saturday. A good solid rain, which we haven't seen enough of, made the trails slick but pretty. I thought I'd find the lost boot: it's bright orange, most things are getting green, it can only be on about 1.5 miles of trail. I did find an orange boot!

ha ha universe, NOT funny! Found this at the waterfall crossing...

Seriously. The universe is laughing at me. Didn't find the real boot, damn. But it was still a pretty hike.

Calcutta Falls

big fall leaves

last week this little creek was totally dry

happy moss

Also managed a short ride in the quick sunset last week. Thought I'd just hop on Major bareback, he'd be fine, right? Not so much. I need to use the bareback pad, he's just to damn slick and had no interest in listening/stopping in his halter. So we mostly hiked instead! But still managed to see cool stuff.

looking stylish, being obnoxious

blurry zoom of an unconcerned bobcat drinking from a puddle

mushrooms happy to arise from damp earth

This week I'm going try and sneak in a ride between pie-baking and family visits. This coming weekend many friends are attending the last local endurance ride of the season and I'm totally envious. But between work, family, finances and logistics, I just couldn't make it happen. It sucks to be disappointed, but it's a disappointment that's easy to get over. I am still going to ride my happy horse, and doing fun things with family and friends, and be thankful.

trail work

The early darkness has again turned me into a weekend warrior. During the week I might squeeze in between work and dark a short forest bareback ride, but for now the weekends are the only time I have for a nice long ride.

And this weekend I took grand advantage and took Major and his favorite new non-best friend Tux to Auburn. He would not share his hay bag like with Barkley last excursion, and spent most of the tacking up time making crabby faces. Whatever. Deal with it.

We headed out down the canyon and pretty quickly came across the trail work sign. I'd read they'd been doing some, but Major needed to read it himself.

Major being cautious, just like the sign says!

Then we saw evidence of the actual work, small tractors (not so scary) and many rocks (in the wrong place Major thought). Walking down to the creek crossing is scary black plastic right next to the trail, and straw-filled wattles for diversion. Lovely. Major got through it ok, then we waited while my friend safely walked Tux through.

tractor ahead

rocks in the wrong spot

looking back at the awful trail work

Now I don't mind them fixing up trails, but this work is supposed to be for making a bridge over the crossing. Now this trail already isn't that easy coming up or down, and has always seemed just fine. But I think since the "waterfall" (really, it's never that spectacular, it's just too small even when full!) was published in a few hiking books, more people are hiking, and maybe the powers that be decided to make something easier for them. It's a hiking trail, not Disneyland. There are rocks and trees and rough stuff. OK, rant over.

We headed down and over to Cool. I have enough pictures of this that I've grown complacent and forget to take out the camera, no matter how lovely the view. Plus we were cantering across the bridge. But my friend had a GoPro, the video is pretty short but entertaining. (linked in picture caption).

watch the video here

Up to Cool but a different way for me: Pig Farm trail. Very steep and slippery, we made it up, only to discover it comes out on the dreaded Training Hill! Luckily almost at the top, where we waited. Major thought I'd drag him down it, but we turned to head for the troughs.

blurry Pig Farm trail, luckily no real pigs in sight

Training Hill: longest .9 miles ever

waiting "patiently" for Tux (love those crabby "why are we waiting" ears)

Major did some epic snorkeling, but little drinking, and the Olmstead Loop troughs. He was more than happy to head home, back across the bridge and up to Auburn.

snorkeling and making a watery mess

heading back on dry trails, but green is appearing!

Major was not as happy going through the construction on the way back. There were about eight people and kids sitting on the lower rocks, black plastic, straw wattles, muddy water: he thought we should just skip it and proceeded to back himself about 10 feet, and into Tux! (that embarrassing moment also captured on video, linked in picture caption below). With enough encouragement we walked suspiciously through. It'll be interesting to see what the trail ends up looking like, with a bridge, supposedly still creek access, signage, and whatever else they do.

watch the creek crossing video here

Luckily the rest was uneventful, except for losing a boot. While I'm glad he just keeps going and his feet aren't sore, I really didn't want to buy a new boot! Damn. I'm hoping to hike the trail this weekend and look for it.

Back at the trailer the sun came out even more, and Major found a great dirt spot to roll in before getting back in the trailer. It'll be another weekend till we can get out again, and I want the rain but maybe it can just rain on weekdays? These weekend rides help keep the darkness at bay, getting out in the sunlight. I know there will be enough days when there is no sun, and no ride, and it is too wet and cold, but for now I am enjoying the time we have to play.

the end

return to the scene

Some people may remember when Major and I and a friend were attacked by pterodactyls (actually: terrified by parasailers) at Cronan ranch. I hadn't been back there, though not for any bad reason, I just hadn't made the trek. But friend S wanted to ride there, and spoiler alert: no one was harmed during the course of this adventure!

big and little, how cute is that

Major has some small horse friends right now, though adorable arabian/connemara Barkley more than makes up for it with his gorgeous mane and tail, enough for at least two of Major's pitiful examples. They became fast friends in the trailer, and Major even (mostly) shared his crack haybag.

We headed out on lovey trails, the dust subdued by a day of rain, but green grass still hiding beneath dry stalks. Soon. After a nice loop we took the big hill connector trail to the main trails. (sidenote: Every instance on every sign of what should be "Connector Trail" is spelled "connecter." It drives me crazy. Not standard english usage! So I'll pretend it is named after some "Mr. Connecter" out there, who donated the trail. Rant over). 

"Connecter" connector trail...

valley floor

from the ridge trail, distant river

Everywhere has great views, the river flowing below, long views across the valley, well-signed (except for spelling) trails. Major and Barkley had a grand time trotting and cantering, we went up the ridge trail to see the whole ranch spread below us, with some snow on distant peaks (and no parasailers in sight). Then back down the long gradual slope (for what seems like forever) to the valley floor, and visiting the old movie set.

movie set

Major wonders if there are treats in there

The river borders one whole side of the ranch, though part of the trail is closed in summer due to the hordes of professional rafting companies that use this space as their lunch pullout spot. But this day we were alone along the river trail, and worked our way down to an easier access to the rocky shore. Most trees here are evergreen, so the few yellow highlights along the river are lovely.

fall colors

There was one scary moment when some other riders came through the brush and startled Barkley. He jumped farther into the river, but only a couple feet, then figured out it was riders and settled right down. Major was a bit bored about the whole thing, he didn't want to drink, and thought standing here was dumb. The footing is really unstable too, with large rocks as bad footing, so wandering about the water isn't as fun as in other places!

silly horse captured mid shake in sparkly water

impatient Major waits for us to just go...

rocky river trail

Back on the trail we wandered around a bit, and Major had one naughty fit when he was passed by Barkley and thought he was losing the race…sigh. So then Major had to tortured (follow behind), where he trotted with flattened ears and crabbiness for awhile, till he figured out that didn't get him anywhere. Happiness resumed.

great cantering hill, here comes Barkley!

Heading back there are some super fun long cantering hills. My usual home trails don't have anything like this, so it was a blast! Major didn't have to be told twice that he could run as fast as he wanted! It was a great day on happy horses, a perfect start to the coming dark season. I was glad to return to the scene, to confront the old demons and replace them with new, fun memories.

conversations with major: pirate

What are you doing Mom?
I am the Dread Pirate Roberts!
You whistled like Mom, and gave me carrots.
Ha, do not assume, beast. Let’s go out.
Uh, ok. Why are you a pirate?
To steal from the rich, and go on endurance rides. I’ve also traded my ship for an F250.

No, I mean why are you dressed like that?
It’s silly Major.
Oh, I know silly, can I be silly?
No, let’s just go for a walk.
Dressed like that?!
Yes.
This is so embarrassing.
I’ll remind you of that when you’re prancing like an idiot...

Where are we going?
The cliffs of insanity! I mean just down the road…
Oh, ok! Let’s go!
We first must navigate the fire swamp. We avoid the lightning sand, and listen for and avoid the flame spurt…
Woah, flame spurt? I don’t think so. I’ve already been in the sand by the lake, you said we have to be careful there.
We are careful there Major, we’re not going by the lake.

Oh good. down the road. Eat some moss, eat some grass, hey what’s that? Big rat!
Rodents of Unusual Size? I don’t think they exist.
Oh, that’s not scary. mmm, acorns.
Major, you need to play along!
We saw a big squirrel last week.
Gee, thanks.

I hear the dinner truck!
No one else will eat your dinner.
But it’s coming, let’s go!
No, just be good. My loyal crew is here to take some pictures. Luckily they’ve made the transition from hoisting the sails to putting on hoof boots and making mash.
Oh mash, when can I have my mash?
Dinner will wait a few minutes. Just be patient.
I am not good at that.
Yes, I know.

Where are we going next?
The Dread Pirate Roberts never tells, but I imagine many miles down the trail, there is a perfect story waiting to be told.
What?
We’re gong to trailer out somewhere fun Major, it’ll be a good time.
Oh yeah! I love new places! Can I get dinner now?
As you wish.

related conversation: conversations with major: inconceivable

other words

Sometimes other people just say it better. Somehow say the exact thing you're thinking at the time. And who better to say it than Batman?

OK, let me backtrack. I flew down the trail on Sunday, letting Major pick the pace, just going with it. Which always makes for a fun ride, with a bit of stress and insanity thrown in to boot. Being right on the edge isn't my usual choice in life, but with a horse like this, I compromise. What do I want? I perfectly controlled 8mph trot, an absolute halt with the tiniest pressure on the reins, the same horse going away from home as coming back.

Well I don't have that. And while I work towards it, through the fights and trail arguments, through the compromise and solutions, my mind keeps thinking. And I come to this idea over and over, and never find very good words. But it's still there, simmering, in the back of my mind.

So I drive to work the next day, listening to some podcasts, good old random NPR interviews. And Batman says just what I'm thinking. My favorite movie Batman, Michael Keaton, being interviewed about his new movie and life. And he rode horses! (See I knew I liked him). And gave a great description:

INSKEEP: Oh, so it sounds like living in love for you is letting go of things, not holding things against people?

KEATON: Oh, man, it's a lot of things. Courage, I guess you could say, you know, not constantly putting yourself in a position where you're kind of screwed, you know. You're out of flow as soon as you start tightening up, right? And you usually tighten up if you're fearful. That's why, you know, acting's such an interesting kind of way to make a living. It's such an interesting art form or trade or craft - whatever it is - because when it's being done - well, I think at least for me - is you're 100 percent present, and at the same time, you just totally let go. I used to compete riding cutting horses, and this is a trained horse, trained to do a certain thing.

INSKEEP: Right.

KEATON: And you have to hope that at that point, your horse is so well-trained and his or her instincts are so strong, that you have to trust the animal. You know, I'm just going to let go, man. I can't tighten up my legs. I can't get too locked up in my body. And at the same time, I've got to stay 100 percent present. That's essentially for me what I'm doing. You know, I'm locked in solid. And at the same time, I'm just not in control of it at all. You just kind of let it occur.

This was an NPR interview, Morning Edition, Michael Keaton interviewed by Steve Inskeep. Check out the whole short interview, it's great.

I love that. "you're 100 percent present, and at the same time, you just totally let go." Excellent words from Batman.

Major being 100% present,  playing with Bandit

nature cruel and kind

The calendar says it's fall, the north wind is blowing, leaves are falling. We don't have the lovely fall color: most things are just more brown, an adaptation to long dry summers and late rains.

The weather didn't quite cooperate: this weekend was 90 degrees again. But I'd been gone for a week on a great vacation (more on that later) and wanted to ride my horse! He was more than happy to head out. I wanted to ride the lake trail, but the wind was blowing, my horse was way too fresh, and I opted for an easier option.

I headed out along the road, and was sadly reminded again of how rural and urban life clash. I ride along a long, tall fence, completely encircling a fancy neighborhood, where they have to protect their rural property from any semblance of nature. Recently the fence has even been reinforced, to keep out the deadly bunnies, skunks, coyotes and bobcats. I have seen deer pacing this fence, and a bobcat slipping beneath, the special things I see here. But not for those people.

lovely trail, unlovely fence

must keep out even the tiny critters

Sadly there is a deer that didn't make it through the fence. Probably hit by a car, it is now mummified, as the useful creatures that could feed on it are scared of the nearby road and unwelcoming fence. When it was "less dead" it made Major a little nervous, now it just smells like earth and bones.

poor mummified thing

I was a bit depressed as we turned on the main trail. I already don't like fall: darker days, colder nights, everything dying. And now just more proof of the bad activities humans do that hurt nature. But I was on my horse, the best tonic. The trails are dusty, but the views are great, when I can slow him down enough to look. The poison oak is mostly dormant, the buckeye seeds hang overhead, and I didn't see a single soul on the trail.

the trail disappears between rocks, one of my favorite places

low lake, but still not tired of this view

California buckeye tree, also know as: testicle tree

And coming home we wandered through the forest, walking quietly, So quietly we were able to stop for a reclusive bobcat. He nonchalantly walked along, saw us, took notice that we seemed to be no threat, and continued up the trail. He was carrying some dinner: a large gray squirrel. Major and I just watched him go, then continued on, a little quieter.

And I was reminded how nature heals, if we leave it alone. And all the necessary things that happen in each season. And how just being quiet can show us more than too many words can.

detour: coastal camping

A few weeks ago, to escape the heat and smoke, the coast was calling. Last minute, no reservations, finding camping can be tough here. (Except when you know the hidden walk-in sites that other people think are too much work.)

tucked away in a canyon

ethereal tree in the slow river

treasures left behind

look where you step, creative home for a trapdoor spider

This campground is on a river, so close to the ocean that the should-be-fresh-water is salty. We settled in the camping gear, then off on a ridgetop hike. There used to be a great campground where this hike starts, but it has been closed for awhile, the forest seems to be slowly winning the battle to reclaim it. This is a lovely small redwood grove, all second growth. Imagine the person, coming up the coast exploring, finding this lovely place and thinking what it needed to be was cut down.

shady campground bridge

perfect fern path

massive trees towering

gnarled cypress guards the hilltop

fog on both sides, but clear trails

when clear, a glorious view

You can go up and over the ridge, and down to the ocean. But then you have to come back up again after relaxing on the sand. I've done this hike enough times to know that it is just as fun to stop at the view and turn around and head back (and go to the beach later), while the sun stays with us.

lovely queen anne's lace

dry grass with abundant seed heads

finding food in a spiky thistle

camouflaged forest denizen

I see the ridge of fog as we descend back into the canyon. This is a world of in-between: sun and fog, forest and meadow, river and sea. I think the beach is worth it in any weather.

an old barn languishing in the last of the sun

"the fog comes on little cat feet..."

an ocean bridge

empty, gray beach

The beach is a bit cold, damp, and almost deserted. Just the way I like it. We do carefully share the beach with harbor seals, the babies playing the water, the adults hauled out in the warmer sand. They like this place since it is where the river flows to the sea, good hunting grounds, and a safe family place.

harbor seals frolicking

humans always seem to need to build

but I think nature does it better

The fog has crept inland, and the campsite fire is welcome. In the morning it is foggy again as we pack. But as we drive home, the sun comes out again. You never know on this part of the coast, and that is part of the adventure.

perfect beach and sunny skies