Even Oregonians Have Their Limits!

A few weeks ago, a friend wished that she had a covered arena at her barn. While I don't deny that a covered arena would be fabulous, I replied that we're better off without one because it keeps us from getting soft.

I have friends who are fair-weather riders, and that's fine for them. As an Oregonian, however, I've learned to adapt. If I didn't, I'd be grounded for up to six months each year!

Besides, there are some major advantages to working in inclement weather:

1. When winter comes, you won't find me hiding in my warm house, longing for summer riding. I may long for summer riding, but it will be from the top of a damp mule.
2. My girls know that they're expected to be polite in rain, snow, or hail. Besides, their ears are so big, they can flatten them out to create tiny umbrellas for their faces.
3. If a rain storm hits while I'm on a trail ride, I don't feel the need to hightail it back to the dry trailer. My fellow rainy-day riders and I just pull out our rain coats and keep on truckin'
4. Group lessons are always smaller during inclement weather. I've learned some of my best lessons on rainy days because no one else bothered to show up.

Of course, both of my girls are sacked out to umbrellas, cause let's face it--even I have my limits!

Photo: Maxine and I take a lesson in rain, wind, and hail. I think this is why the one-handed rein hold was invented.

Remember the Hula Hoop

Yesterday, I took a hula hoop out to the barn to see how Maxine would react to it. I got the idea last month while watching the Wind Rider Challenge at the NW Horse Fair and Expo in Albany.

It was hilarious to watch the horses react to the hula hoop. Some took it in stride, while others picked up their skirts and ran. Many horses entered the hoop quietly, but were spooked when the hoop popped up between their legs as a hoof stepped on the side.

The hula hoop they used had a rattle in it, so it sounded like a rattlesnake. Makes sense that many of the horses were spooked by it. No intelligent horse is going to ignore a rattler in the dirt, even if it is purple.

Always looking for something new and fun to try with Maxine, I bought my own hula hoop to see how she would react. Maxine wasn’t having it at first. Like the other horses, she stepped in the hoop just fine, but retreated when it rattled due to the nudge of a hoof. Knowing that she's usually okay with these kinds of things after she can "kill" them (it's the donkey half of her brain), I dragged the hoop with my foot so that she could walk behind and "hunt" it. After about ten minutes, she was walking quietly, albeit cautiously, through the hoop.

Once in the saddle, I again asked her to ride through the hoop. She wouldn’t have it. Moving back to square one, I stationed her nose on the hoop and kept her centered on the obstacle as she tried to move away. To a non-riding onlooker it probably looked like we were practicing dance moves.

That's when it hit me--"Hey, I'm actually good at this!"

I remembered my first trail show when Maxine refused nearly every obstacle. There were so few tools in my toolbox that if smart old Maxine decided something was unsafe, I didn't have a chance against her. The experienced wranglers at my barn seemed to get their animals through every challenge so easily. I envied their quiet, persuasive skills, wondering if I'd ever reach their level of experience.

Over the years, I've slowly added tools to my tool box, and yesterday was the first time I realized how far I've come in this regard. My arms and legs were each working independently and naturally to keep Maxine's nose centered on that obstacle. In less than five minutes, Maxine gave in and walked though the hoop. As a reward for both of us, we left the hoop for another day and took a long ride up the road with friends.

The interesting thing about riding is that each time we try a new discipline, obstacle, or skill, we often start from square one. It can be frustrating to be great at one thing but terrible at another. I sometimes think I'll never master a new skill. From now on, when I feel frustration tingling on the back of my neck, I'll remember the hula hoop.

Photo: Max eyes the hula hoop with caution. She's still not convinced that it won't eat her up.

Poor Baby!

Baby Madge had a rough day yesterday--she was drugged, stabbed, and now she's missing two teeth! No, she didn't go on a trip to South America. The friendly neighborhood vet came round for her first dental visit.

I was very proud of my little girl. Madge stood quietly as the vet gave her a shot of tranquilizer. Her eyes drooped as her nose dropped slowly to the ground. "Is there anything cuter than a dopey baby?" I though, as she looked at me with doughy eyes.

The vet skillfully floated her molars and pulled her two wolf teeth.* Then, I learned how to properly administer a vaccination. There's no better time to learn how to give you mule a shot than when she's is happily hopped up on drugs.

The best part? I got to keep the teeth!

Okay, before you call me crazy, let me tell you a story. Mules have opened up a whole new chapter of my family history. After I bought Maxine, relatives started telling me about their history with mules.

Just days before he passed away, I showed my great uncle a photo of me and Maxine. His eyes lit up and he told me stories about driving mules in the plum fields near Salem, Oregon. It was my last visit with him and the one I'll remember most.

When my grandfather was diagnosed with cancer, the story he always asked me to tell was the one about how I found Maxine--the mule that no one else wanted.

A few years ago, my mom gave me a small wooden barrel. Inside, I found a large mule tooth wrapped in ancient tin foil, accompanied by this note:

"This tooth belonged to Kit, our young mare that we had when we lived in Molalla on a farm. It was her baby tooth. I found it in her box that she ate oats out of in 1916. That's when we lived there, called Russelville."

Nearly a century later, I get to add a new tooth and note to the barrel.

*For my non-equine friends: Wolf teeth are small premolars. Like wisdom teeth in humans, wolf teeth are unnecessary and can interfere with the bit (sometimes causing pain), so many owners have the teeth removed.

Photo: Madge is ready for her dental work.

I Miss My Girls

December has always been a hard month for me to get out to see my girls. With the hustle of the holidays and dreary damp weather, I'm lucky get to the barn once or twice during the last few week's of the month.

Typically, things go back to normal after the new year. As long as the footing is good and it's not pouring, you'll find me back at the barn at least twice a week.

Not this year.

In early January, I headed out to the barn for an evening visit with Maxine and Madge. I delivered grain, gave them hugs, and simply adored them while they quietly munched on their dinner.

I hopped in the car with a warm heart and called Travis on the way home, as I always do. It was a lovely evening... until I coughed.

Then I coughed again... and again... and again.

Three barnless weeks later, I'm finally gettin better. A trip to the doctor confirmed that I'm likely suffering from an acute allergy attack brought on by a mix of alfalfa, sawdust, and the light covering of mold brought on by the damp Oregon winter.

Now, I've always had an allergy to the dust I encounter at the barn. I'm used to the three days of sniffling and sneezing after a show, but this has been unreal. My voice has been gone for a week, and my sides ache from coughing.

Of course, there is a silver lining to my ailment--I haven't longed to see my girls this badly in a long time. It's funny how we sometimes get into routines--arrive, tack up, ride, untack, leave--and forget the euphoria we once felt while doing the very same activities. That's exactly what I've been doing the past few months.

This weekend my routine is going to be different--arrive, hug, stroll, smile, tack up, gush, ride/lunge, love, untack, brush, pause, share cookies, put up, hug, repeat.

I love my girls.

Photo: Madge and Maxine standing happily in the trailer. This year, Madge will move back to the second stall, cause she'll soon be heavier than Maxine!

Top Ten Reasons 2010 Was a Great Year...

Last year, I created my first top ten list in response to the media's bashing of 2009. Things must be looking up, cause the paper isn't so dire this morning.

Still, I thought I'd keep the tradition alive.

1. Travis graduated from Lane Community College with honors.
2. Baby Madge earned THREE Reserve Champion wins at two shows, and Maxine earned a Championship win at the trail show. As a result, I got to add a vest and a jacket to my growing collection of show clothes.
3. Thanks to my friend Emily, Maxine and I got past a big obstacle--the tippy bridge.
4. Travis got a job!
5. By organizing the Tree of Joy at work, I got to help a coworker provide gifts for more than 60 local kids.
6. I won my first top ribbons in Dressage--both English and Western--with Maxine.
7. I found a pair of fantastic English dress boots that fit my "man calves"--right out of the box!
8. My list of riding buddies expanded and I did more horsey campouts than ever.
9. Travis worked at two horse/mule/donkey shows--as an announcer and scribe--so that I could afford to show my girls.
10. Win or lose (not 'til 2011), the Oregon Ducks are in the championship! Yeah, I'm a fan.
    

And now, here are my goals for 2011:

1. To take Madge on her first camp trip, which means her first overnight stay in a campground corral.
2. Canter on Maxine--bareback.
3. Get Madge trained well enough that I can drive her without a header.
4. Go for a trail ride at least once a month--rain or shine!
   

Now, it's your turn to create your own lists!

Photo: Riding on a crisp winter day.

What I Did This Weekend

I took the girls to the NW Mountain Trail Championships this weekend. Travis, my fabulous hubby, worked at the show to earn money toward my show fees. What a guy! Unfortunately, that means that I didn't get any new video, so I'm sharing this video from 2007 instead. More on the competition later!

Yes, I Buy Local

On Friday, one of my favorite bloggers--Mugwump--posted an article titled "Down Under Horsemanship? – I’d Rather Buy Local" by Janet Huntington. It really summed up some of my feelings about clinicians: their not good or evil, just an impersonal resource.

In fact, the article and the resulting comments really got me thinking about my own learning experience, and how fortunate I've been to have a qualified trainer to guide me on this journey. I was moved enough to submit my own comment on the blog. This is what I wrote...

I agree with [one of the previous comments] 100 percent--videos, books, and magazine articles aren't there to correct you or give you one-on-one attention.

About five years ago, I decided to take up riding. Fortunately, I was referred to a wonderful, local trainer who's both a good horsewoman and a nice people person. When I started lessons, I made a commitment to myself--to shut my mouth and open my ears.

When it was time to buy my first mule (after six months of lessons), my trainer chose a safe, broke, 14-year-old mule for me to buy. Six months later, we won our first blue ribbons at a schooling show. Within three years, Maxine and I were winning championship ribbons (and prizes!).

Now I have a second mule--a 16-month of ball of fun. I was there the day Madge was born, and I've been working with her ever since, under the close eye of my trainer. When it's time for Madge to learn significant tasks, I put her in training with my trainer. Smaller issues are addressed during my weekly lessons.

I can't tell you how much I've learned by having someone always by my side. Like [a previous comment said], I also hear my trainer's instructions in my head when she's not around.

When I ride at shows, I see a lot of novices [yes, I still consider myself a novice] with green animals, carrying the latest training toys. Many are going it on their own, learning from RFD and magazines. Some look at me like I'm crazy when they hear that I've been taking weekly lessons for five years. Of course, they're the same ones who "can't believe" I've "only been riding for five years."

During this time [with my trainer], I've watched a lot of people come and go [from my barn]. They question my trainer, bring her "amazing" articles, or simply ignore her suggestions. Why? Because so-and-so said they should do such-and-such. They go to clinics then gush about what they've learned, which is often the exact same thing my trainer's been trying to tell them for weeks.

Do I go to clinics? Sometimes. Either when they're a free part of another event I'm already going to visit or when my trainer is going to be there.

Do I learn from clinicians? Sure. I usually take home a good idea or two. Fortunately I'm able to realize that it's usually something that simply helped me realize what my trainer's been trying to get through my thick head for weeks. ;)

Yes, I love my trainer.

Photo: Max confidently crosses a bridge on the Banks-Vernonia Trail. The bridge takes riders over a highway, and I've never crossed it without at least one car driving under us. Thanks to my training, hard work, and Maxine's willing attitude, we conquer these types of obstacles with ease.