Dear Diary: Let it be Spring. March 13

We have a wonderful community of riders here on The Crick. The friends, the horses, the adventures and the camaraderie have been a huge part of the life that I have here. So many rides together, so many shared joys and sorrows. Getting new horses, raising colts and fillies, losing older horses, mentoring juniors, sharing horses and adventures with friends from all over the world. We've all been through a lot together.

We're an awesome team for putting on rides, sharing the work load and pitching in with whatever is needed - from putting out ribbons to pulling them after the ride to organizing and re-organizing bags full of various color ribbons on clothespins. We rake rocks, set out water tanks, keep the people and horses fed, make awards, find new trails, and do the yucky paperwork. It's work, but it's much more fun when it's done together.

We also have various skills and talents and ambitions when it comes to horses and riding. This weekend our friends from the mountains came down to ride, as their trails are still too snowy and muddy. They brought a beautifully bred gelding that hadn't worked out for a previous buyer, apparently it had learned to buck. So... Connie to the rescue. Connie lives a little ways up the creek, splitting her time between Seattle and Oreana. She galloped thoroughbred horses at the race track for 15 years and learned to quickly read a horse (young, strong, fit thoroughbred colts) and determine how to ride it, and how to stay on and in control while galloping around the track. She is also generous with her time and has helped many of us over the years.

(photo by Steve Bradley - Connie and Phinnaes)

Our friend wanted Connie to get a read on the horse and figure out what he needed in terms of training to make him a good citizen again. Connie had put the first rides on him several years ago, so she knew him. It was a windy stormy day, but I don't think that matters to Connie. She started in the round pen and then took him to the arena (wind kicking up dust, trees blowing, things flapping). Circles and circles and circles, he had some buck in him. "I just let him buck, he got tired of it eventually". She wanted to ride him again the next day, and it was even crazier windy and gusty. Not a second of hesitation. "He was much better, I knew he would be. There's nothing wrong with this horse, he just needs a strong leader."

Connie is a good friend, and a lot of fun, and I hope she knows how much we all appreciate her!

Dear Diary: Let it be Spring. March 12

I had the perfect ride on Smokey today. I did a little round-pen work with her first, she was willing and respectful, and then rode out with Merri and Dudley to check out the Hart Creek trail. It's one of my favorite trails - about 13 miles, first traversing some nice hills and washes out of the ranch, then onto a lovely sandy single track trail ('Merri's Trail') which takes us down to Hart Creek - which was running nicely, plenty of snow melt this year. The trail follows the fence line above an old ranch, parallel to the creek, and then drops down to the water. Sometimes we ride through the creek for a half mile or so but today we took a sandy trail through the sagebrush and down to 'Oreana Savanah' - a cool cave that hides back in the cliffs surrounded by brush and willows.

The trail then heads up into some badland formations - white and yellow cliffs with red rock caps and rings, very prehistoric looking. We follow a wash back towards Hart Creek, ride a narrow trail above it, and then ride through another old homestead with rusty farm equipment, a ghostly old cottonwood tree, and an old stone house built into a hillside. There were quite a few mama cows and brand new babies. And a scruffy old bull.

We climb up a rocky hillside and drop down to the mouth of Hart Creek Canyon, a spectacular rhyolite cliff gouged out over a million years ago as Lake Idaho drained into the Snake River. We ride past the canyon, the mouth is dense with brush and the trails into the canyon are only suitable for wildlife and adventurous humans. There are Indian artifacts up this canyon, I imagine it was magical for the earlier humans as well as we late comers.

We ride up out of the canyon mouth along sagebrush trails and washes and then quickly climb up a narrow ridge and back up onto the bench - where one can see in every direction. The Owyhee Mountains to the west, the Boise mountains to the north, the Sawtooth mountains far to the east. Then cross country up the hills and down into the washes and up the hills again. We met up with John and his beautiful mare Sunny as we dropped down into Pickett Creek and our land. He had been riding the southern fenceline checking for sections that might need shoring up. Our neighbor's cows have been wandering into our little valley to have their spring babies. This year we'll try to keep them out. Finishing a nice trail along Pickett Creek and then home.

We were lucky enough to see two different herds of mule deer, and large herd of antelope, and a coyote that we followed for a while as he skirted us, perhaps on the scent of the mule deer.

Dear Diary: Let it be Spring. March 10

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Dear Diary: Let it be Spring. March 8

Since I decided that the first day of Spring was March 6, the weather gods have been testing me.

I pruned the grape vines and the choke cherry and honey locust trees. I cleaned out the gardens to give the emerging lilies and gladiolas some fresh air and light. I ordered strawberry plants for our hydroponic strawberry growing thing, raked out the old strawberry beds in the vegetable garden. Ready!

After dropping John off at the airport yesterday I stopped by D&B - my favorite garden/feed/hardware store - and low and behold their greenhouse was set up and they had a huge selection of garden and landscape plants ready for purchase. They must know it is Spring too.

Of course I had to take advantage of 'senior Tuesday' and stock up on plants and seeds. "Plant in spring as soon as soil can be worked".

Yet, there is fresh snow on the greening foothills, several days of rain and wind here in the valley, and the sky is rather threatening this morning. A bit nippy too. The horses look so happy just munching hay, why bother them? I wonder if I should wait to plant...

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Dear Diary: Let it be Spring. March 6

Since my definition of winter was somewhat arbitrary, having nothing whatsoever to do with the earth's rotation cycles, I'll define the first day of Spring as the day after my last day of Winter. That would be March 6.

After a morning on the computer, I went for a 'tone it down' ride on my mare Smokey. Owyhee Smoke Signal is my homebred mutt - saddlebred, quarterhorse and arabian bloodlines. When I decided her dam (saddlebred/arabian cross) was too much of a princess and too hot to be an endurance horse I did what any responsible horse owner would do: breed her to the neighbor's stallion. And as it turned out, Carol's Quarab (Quarterhorse/Arabian cross) stallion was a good choice, in addition to being convenient. He added substance and brain to the mix.

But Smokey is a challenge. Had she been a human she probably would have spent hours on the psychiatrist couch. Or more likely, her friends would have insisted that she spend hours on the psychiatrist couch. She is subordinate to the other horses, but seems to want to compensate by constantly challenging humans. It is her right to call the shots when it comes to food and comfort. Every day I get the 'feed me or die' look. Every day I explain to her, 'that's not the way it works'.

She spent some invaluable time with my favorite trainer friend Ted, who taught her that respecting humans was not an option, it was a requirement. He also taught her to relax and think through scary stuff rather than over-react, and to respond well to rider cues. She's a great horse to ride, very responsive, and once I learned the same things that she learned (from the other perspective) I began really enjoying riding her.

Riding her is a balancing act though - she can be quite hot and forward, she can also pin her ears and do the 'you can't make me' routine. Or she can be a quiet trail horse... I just have to see what I've got each time I ride her.

The winter of travel seemed to gradually wind her up. Plus I didn't always take the time to adjust her sensitize/desensitize meter - easier to just go ride. Plus the harder she works, the more food and supplement she needs to stay healthy, and the fitter she gets, and ...

So, this was a 'tone it down ride'. A long walk (Merri/Dudley and Carol/Jose too) with lots of circles and riding through brush and downfall and forward and back and 'get over it' and use your brain stuff. Good for both of us, and it still surprises me how quickly she'll come around when I just take the time to Ride her instead of just being a passenger. Maybe someday she'll be one of those horses you can just get on and go, the same horse every day... but for now every ride begins with the first encounter, the first eye contact, and my first response to who she is on that day. Spring Diary

Diary of a Winter Wimp. March 5. It's over.

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Diary of a Winter Wimp. February 21

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