Thursday, July 31, 2008

Texas In July

Houston in July is like a steam bath. I'm not sure how people stand it. I certainly don't know why July is the month my family picked for a reunion! When I touched down at Hobby I called Bob Hunter and told him I was in town again and would love to come on out to see him. He said, perfect timing, there is a show on Friday in Yoakum, and he had a horse I could show if I wanted to go.

Well why not?

5 am Friday morning I set out from Clear Lake City and got on the Sam Houston Tollway. It was still dark but already hot. The day before, my family and I had gone to Kemah boardwalk on Galveston Bay and I had rode the ferris wheel. Stopped at the top of the ride I looked over the bay and saw the oil tankers coming in the channel to Texas City. The other side showed miles of green, flat and low, trees intersperced with white buildings, downtown gleaming in the afternoon sunlight. The humidity is a palpable thing, visible even, a sauna over the lush semi-tropical landscape.

The roads are so clean and there isn't any traffic; I sped along unfettered and I was soon out on 10, through Katy and beyond. Texas goes from city to country so quick. Country for miles and miles, just green trees and green pastures and cattle everywhere. There is nothing comparable in California to all this green open space.

As I came into Sealy the sun was rising and the humidity was like mist, hung low like tule fog in the Valley, except already I had the air conditioner on. I pulled into Bob's drive and went to help him load horses in the trailer. He gave me a bucket of oats and told me to take the mule and catch a 2 year old out of the back pasture. Off I went and caught him easily.

Turning back to go towards the barn something in the long pasture grass caught my eye. At first I thought they were sprinkler markers, all over the ground, but another look, this time from the side, showed me what I was really seeing was spiderwebs, dozens of them, made in the grass. A long piece of grass would be bent down like a scaffold and the web was built using the grass as a frame. Dozens of perfect webs stood wet in the humid mist, lit up and dazzling in the rising sun. What to say to a sight like that? It was a piece of heaven. I stood there gaping without a sound.
Yoakum was another hours drive from Sealy, on two lane country highways through miles of Red Angus and little country homes, interspersed with towns with a Mayberry feel. Nothing corporate or modular or mass produced in this landscape. The day started out with promise and I was joyful as I drove along.

The showgrounds were full, and like any show I go to, getting there in the morning, pulling in and finding a place to park among the rigs filled me with excitement and anticipation. I don't tire of this; it is a thrill every time and I feel so grateful to get to do it. Walking around at a show a couple of states away from home, among strangers, I am comfortable and joyful. They aren't strangers, not really, for we are all there with the same ultimate goal and the atmosphere is welcoming. Walking into the arena and the warmup pen is like walking into any warmup pen anywhere and this is where I belong.

I helped Bob's wife, Sandy, saddle, and we hopped on his two 10,000 Novice horses and went to loping. The horses settled right in to the familiar show routine, and after a long four days with my family in Houston it felt like a release to be back in my real home, on the back of a horse. In the house with my aunts and sisters and parents I had begun to lose a bit of myself and more than once the idea that I may be adopted occured to me. Certainly I don't come from the same place as these people who are my family. There is a little resemblance here and there, and none of them are bad people but as always I am a bit of an outsider, looking in and marveling at our different worldviews.

Soon I struck up conversation with others while we loped and the dialogue flowed easily and unfettered by self consiousness or ulterior motives, unlike the days before with my family. The heat was not stifling thanks to low hung huge fans in the indoor arena. Right before Bob went in to show, the rain started. It was raining sideways, hot rain; the sun still shone in the sky. I accepted that I would be sticky and wet and that was ok. I continued loping, wiping smeared mascara away and wondering, as I have wondered before, how the Texas ladies always had such good hair and makeup. My hair hung lank in a tangled wet rope down my soaking back, my shirt stuck to me like a second skin. I've just never been meant to be a glamour girl.

As usual, excellent showman that he is, Bob won a check in his class and I was happy to see I had not failed him in warming up his pony. Later he told me that was the horse I would ride in my class. Chet, a red roan gelding by Smart Little Riccochet out of a full sister to Cash Quixote Rio; he was a mover and a shaker!

First I rode the two year old I had caught earlier that day. He was a sorrel Chula Dual gelding with a thin crooked stripe down a slightly roman nose, with a kind but young face. He was lightly built and small, with good bone and good legs. As I settled in the saddle and wrapped my legs around him he focused in on me and allowed me to guide him into the warmup pen and merge into the traffic. He was a bit goosey- preoccupied with the big and unfamiliar herd he suddenly found himself in. Like the intelligent little boy he is, he handled the situation well, with minimal stress. Soon we were loping along with the seasoned show horses. For his second time "in town," he was a good boy. Bob had obviously done an excellent job starting him and I felt completely comfortable on his back.

I also took Rubin Pringle's Peptoboonsmal filly for a spin. Her mama is Smart Fancy Lena, same mama as Blue Duck Okie. I felt pretty special riding around on that little princess! And little princess was what she was, no doubt. She looked and acted just like our own Pepto, a baby version. Silly and full of mischevious energy, turning into a wiggle worm every time a horse came up behind her, she had me giggling and concentrating on maintaining a soft back and a secure, centered seat. Sometimes it is possible to get on a horse and just know...just know, that horse is a good one. A star in the making. Well that little Pepto is a good one. I look forward to seeing her in the Futurities!

Later in the afternoon it was my turn to show. First I went into the office and filled out my ACHA membership renewal and gave the secretary a check. I was suprised and pleased to find that the secretary remembered me from last year! She was happy to see me and asked me about mutual friends and aquaintences in California.

Before I went in I rooted for Bob's non pro rider as he went in on his CD Royal gelding. He made great cuts and marked a 73, for second place in his class. A former polo player, he had taken up cutting as something to do in the off season for polo. Like anyone, he had become hooked ..ting, the simplicity, the precision, the laser sharp timing and tempo that is necessary to do it well. Once in a while it clicks in, the rhythm, the rhythm, and just a taste of it can keep someone coming back for more and more and more.

All day Bob and Rubin, jokers that they are, had been loud and boisterous, laughing and joking with each other across the show pen. "Hey Rubin! I got some Pacific Coast on my two year old! She got a 73 on that old nag of yours last year but this year she's going to get a 74 on my horse!" And of course Rubin would have a smart response. By the time I was warming up Chet for my class, everyone in the place had heard their boasts and I was receiving lots of curious looks.
For a moment it made me nervous. Last year there was no pressure; it was a free ride in a place where I knew no one. Last year no one expected anything of me. Last year I had won a check on a horse I had never seen and now the bar had been set. Could I do it again? Oh wow.

As I loped I thought about it and decided not to think so much. This is not the girl scouts. I have worked so hard to become accomplished at this, to feel brave enough to show up out of the blue somewhere and get on their horse and do that horse justice. I didn't come all this way to blow it because of nerves. Why did I have to get nervous anyway? All I had to do was go in there and do what I do, do what I practice every day, feel that feel yet again and let everything click into place. If I want to make this my career then I better just get used to pressure and laugh in the face of it.

So 74? Sure, I can do that. I had watched Chet mark a 73 earlier in the day and I was secure in the knowledge that this horse knows his job inside and out. Bob gave me a few pointers. He said keep him pointed up and don't get to swordfighting when making a cut. Show him the cow I want, set it up square in the middle and ease him into position with my feet. He said I could rely on this horse to match anything a cow gave me if I stayed with him, but don't get to kicking too much, because that would encourage him to "write checks he can't cash." Hmmm. Sounds like my horse Hal!

I was first up in a class of 18 riders. On my first cut I walked about 1/3 the way in the herd and eased the top part out towards the center, letting them settle and shape, keeping my eye on the top cow, a smallish mot faced black. I was patient and the cattle started rolling around me and I stepped Chet up through the traffic, keeping my legs in close, bouncing on his sides, encouraging him towards the mott's face, my rein hand just above his neck. I cut clean in the center and put my hand down and Chet went to work.

The mott had a little life to him and he took off with his tail over his back and Chet matched him. I wasn't quite in the rhythm with him on the first stop and I felt a little bobble but Chet never blinked an eye, he hit his stop and came back through himself and I put my cow-side leg on him and then got in time with him. I could do this. This horse was a lot like Hal! I got that cow broke down in the center and went back in for another one with 1.30 left on the clock. The next one I pulled out was a red cow that wanted to look at Chet a little and gave him a chance to do his dance for a few beats before running hard at us to the left. I put some leg on him and told him to stop that cow and he did. It then took off at an angle away from us and Chet broke fast with it but as I saw the angle change I sat down on him and we did a perfect half halt and slowed down to rate that cow. One more stop and turn and off to get a third cow to finish strong.

I sliced a charolais off the top and agressively pushed her out towards the center and threw my hand down. This one wanted to play and came in hard, ducking one way and then the other. This is where Chet and I really got together. He jumped out a bit long on one side and I felt comfortable enough to sit, wait, and then SEND him back strong to the other side to even us out. I felt him respond to me and the tempo of our run hit another level. I had one moment where I wished I had another 30 seconds; I had gotten the feel of him now and knew I could get an even higher score if I had had just a bit more time. I didn't want it to end. I could ask this gelding to write some pretty big checks before we came up with one he couldn't cash.

We walked out and heard the score...74. First place. I had done it. And it wasnt' because I went in there trying to win or worried about the others, on their fancy horses, familiar to them, among friends in an arena they had no doubt shown in before. I just did it because it is what I do. All that other stuff is extraneous. In the movie "Greatest Game Ever Played" Shia LeBouf stares down the fairway as the amateur golfer Francis Ouimet, and he has the million mile stare. The camera pans out over the fairway, thronged with expectant faces, trees, clouds. All of a sudden the people disappear, the trees disappear, the clouds fade from the sky and all that is left is the fairway, on a plane of nothingness, out in a vaccuum, in space. The golfer and the hole, marked with a flag. No sound, no croud, nothing. He aims, he fires.

When the show goes well, that is why. If I can get into that focus, that state of allowing, of being here, comfortable in the here and now. It is a liberating feeling and afterwards I walked around free and easy, no resistance anywhere in my body. My limbs swung loose and my joints were free and flexible. Chet walked with me to the washrack and he walked free and easy too, content with the world and the job he had done. I hosed him off and gave him a drink and a pat and thanked him for the wonderful time.

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Hot Summer

When the temperature gets in the 100's I like to take a drive with the top down and feel the oven heat at 55 mph. There are fires a lot here, but not like this year. This year is extreme and unique. When it hit 105 I lowered the top in my Pontiac and set out through the foothills. The sky was brown and I could look directly at the sun without squinting. I cranked up the radio and felt the superheated air flow over my face, over my arms. Around me the grass was yellow and the oak trees looked dry. Small daisy-like sunflowers lined the road and birds flew up. The music started to get into my cells, my soul. The air lifted me up and the music lifted me up and something amazing happened. In my mind I was totally present in the here and now, the moment. I felt my body get light. How do I explain this exept to say it was an infusion of joy and energy and spirit. My body broke in a million pieces and started to disintegrate and mix in with the atmosphere around me, all of it; the air, the grass, the car, even the music. I was a million bubbles floating around the car flying through the air vibrating with the song. Joy and Love flashed through my being. Then I laughed and just like that was back in my car, driving. I couldnt' get the grin off my face though.

Sunday, June 22, 2008

Some Days Are Just Full

Where do I start? Well at the beginning I guess. My friend Krista is a barrel racer. 9 years ago she got a horse, and when it was three, she had a cowboy start him. The cowboy probably rode him 10 times, and then sent him home. Anyway, after that, she rode this horse a few times. Enough times for him to buck her off, run off with her, and do the same to a few other people. He is a big, tough, hard headed paint gelding.

Anyway, Krista hurt her back. She couldn't ride for almost 6 years, and the paint sat in the pasture and nobody did anything with him. Then she got back surgery and can ride again. She brought painto and her other horse over for me to ride for a few weeks, as a favor to a friend, to leg up so she could get back on. Well the other horse was no problem. Broke, already a winning barrel horse, no attitude, etc. Painto was tough. He tested my limits on how tough I am willing to be to get points across to a horse. I got him rode about 10 times and then had her ride him, after I got him tired.

It was determined that Krista should sell this horse. Lets put it this way. If one were to put a flank strap on this horse, he would be a rodeo horse. Not like he needed the flank strap to want to buck. If I get on Pepto and she has a hump in her back, I laugh, kick her forward, and enjoy the hops. If I get on Brownie, and she has a hump in her back, same deal. This horse, though. I get on him and he has a hump in his back I get right back off and lunge him some more. Because I know he could and would fling me 20 feet in the air head over heels like a lawn dart and not feel slightly bad about it. The others are just fresh and having fun, but he is a coyote.

Well who is going to buy a horse like this? A green broke 11 year old paint gelding with a big coarse head, a tail that goes like a helicopter the whole time he's being ridden, and serious resistance issues, who has to be worked into a full body sweat to relax? And all you natural horsemanship people out there I don't want to hear a word. My trainer is the only one Tom Dorrance ever would let train his wife's horses. Yes, my trainer traines Tom Dorrance's wifes horses, and was endorsed by Tom. Pat Parelli thanks my trainer in the acknowledgement section of his book. Sweating is not bad for a horse. What's bad for this kind of horse would be someone thinking they could get through his tough skull in some coddling way and get themselves killed. I know how to feel a horse and feel his moods. This horse would relax when worked hard. Some people are like that too. I am, so I know. A good hard workout can focus my mind and relax my body. I have enough savvy to know how to get through to this horse. And I have, the times that I rode him. After lunging him bitted up until he was (somewhat) relaxed, I could then get on him (without spurs) and have a shot in he!! of keeping him checked up. He would try what he could to bulge and pop and stop and charge through my hands or my legs and I would sit on him firm and centered and just keep kicking him back underneath me. He would bulge his hip out trying to get away one way and I would kick him with that leg and he would let fly double barrels and I would ride him forward some more with set hands trying to get through to the concrete steel that was his mouth. I would gallop him at a wall and double him right into it and out the other side until both of us were breathing hard and his head would start to come down. Then I would ease up on him and let him see how nice it is to just walk circles on a loose rein, following his nose easy and letting my legs shape him. And it was working. If I spent lots of time, he would get broke.

That's the problem. It takes an expert to do that. And honestly, most people with the skill to do this don't want to bother wasting their time with these kind of horses. I don't. Some may say that's harsh, but what of it? Why on earth would I spend all my time and energy on a horse like this when I have a barn full of champion cutting horses who want to be ridden, who want to work, who want to show and win, who don't want to hurt me or buck me off or run off with me, who learn quickly, are intelligent and athletic, willing? It takes me three times as much time and energy to ride this horse as it does one of the cutters, even the unbroke babies. And for what? Even if he gets somewhat broke, he is still worth about $500. Or less. It would take years before he could be considered safe for anyone but a skilled hand.

So then I broke my hand. (On this horse). And Krista won't ride him. So he sat and sat for two months while hay is $250 a ton and shavings are $6 a bag. Some people came and looked at him but no one wanted him and I can't say I blame them. Krista as a last ditch effort put him in a local ranch horse sale. Now this isn't the bottom of the barrel killer sale. I have sold horses at this sale and gotten good money for them, they've gone to good homes with local ranchers and ropers. Perhaps some cowboy would buy him and use him to work in the hills all day every day until he got broke.

I told her to find some cowboy to ride him through the sale. But no one would. It never occured to her to ask me to do it, and I didn't offer. I am known at that sale and others for always having a nice well bred horse that usually tops the sale, and wouldnt' really want to have my name attached to this horse. But no one would even consider helping her.

The night before the sale I was already in my pajamas reading a Kurt Vonnegut novel. My trainer knocked on the door and said Krista was outside, she got her horse in the sale and she was going to lead him through in the morning. Wow...lead him through? That would be a guarantee kill buy. No one would want to touch him with a ten foot pole. My trainer told me I should ride the horse through the sale for her. Yikes!

So I got dressed and went out and got him out and started lunging him. He hadn't been saddled in two months. I put the saddle on and bitted him up (I know him well enough to know this is necessary if I didn't want him to kick my saddle to pieces) and let him lunge. He bucked for probably 10 minutes. (I' m not exaggerating). I lunged him until he was breathing hard, and then bitted his head to the side and let him stand, blow, and relax a bit. After 15 minutes he had relaxed and gotten his air back and I got on him in the round pen. He wanted to buck; I kept him checked around to the side and gently eased him forward with my legs until he felt unstuck and then went into a trot. I worked him in the roundpen at a trot and a lope for about 5 minutes and then decided if I had to ride him at a sale in the morning I better get brave and come out of the round pen. I opened the gate and went out.

After riding him around the courtyard and in the cutting pen, I felt more confident, like maybe I could get through it in one piece. I know how these things work. All I needed to do was to show him smooth, low headed, on a loose rein, walking around easy. Some people go to these "performance horse sales" and yay-hoo their horse all over the place trying to make him look like he is ready to win the Snaffle Bit Futurity. Of course they have no skill or savvy and their horse is a reflection of it, gap mouthed, chomping, breaking out all over with nervous sweat and hopping and jumping and flinging (which the people think is cool, like rolling back or moving hard. Sheesh. Idiots). Their idea of a rollback is jamming a horse's front end in the ground and then the butt passes up the front end in a pogo stick motion and they scramble out the other way. This is called the "sale barn rollback."

I get depressed every time I go to these kind of sales. I like going to the sales at Fort Worth and seeing the well bred, expensive horses ridden by good hands, who will go to good places and have lots of money time and effort put into their upbringing. Many of them become champions. I don't even mind high end ranch sales where at least half of the people can ride and aren't crucifying their horses.

Here's a tip for anyone showing off a horse for someone else. No one wants to see how much you can "train" on your horse. That is not a good way to demonstrate skill. No one wants to see your horse stiff, scared, hopping around and overfaced. No one wants to see how much you can "make your horse do." You just end up looking like a yay-hoo. Show your horse smooth. Be cool and still and soft and show how relaxed you can get your horse. Do your homework at home and show off what you got in public, even if it isn't as much as you would like to have.

Anyway, the next morning, I got up at 5 and rode him again before taking him to the sale. I wanted him tired. Tired enough that he wouldn't plant me like a lawn dart in public. I got on him and bridled him up (in a smooth snaffle) and drove him up into my hands and pushed his ribs over one way and then the other, at a trot. Circles, changes of directions, until he quit trying to bulge and resist. Then I let him gallop. I took him in the big arena and let him out all the way. Holy COW! This horse found his special purpose. I could feel him loving to run, like a race horse loves to run. And he was fast! Fast enough for me to know he had some extra gears he hadn't hit yet. As we galloped, I gave in to the feeling and felt him relax and let go of some long held resistance. I could feel his hot energy coming up through the saddle and I locked in with him and we were one. He took me for a couple of glorious laps and then started to slow on his own and I let him. Then we walked around nice, on a loose rein, content with ourselves and the world.

I drove up to the sale with hope, hoping someone would come along and find what I had found in this horse, and be willing to work hard enough to bring it out in him so he could have a good life. The sale was smaller and of lower quality than it has been in years past, when I have been there with good horses. The economy has changed and this is a sign of the times. There were a few ok horses but nothing great, and there were a few barrel racers and ropers who could ride ok but also some real yay hoo sale barn types who just muscle and spur horses around. These people make me mad because they don't even seem to like horses. I don't know what their motivation is but I do know I don't like being around them.

Well he was tired at the sale, and therefore walked around nicely on a loose rein. I showed him in the preview and thought he did well. I rolled him back on the fence and kept him on his hip and made everything manageable and smooth. But you can't make a silk purse out of a sows ear and the experienced hands there could see he wasn't broke. I eased him into the ring but couldn't get him to do much. I know when to push and when not to. Now was time not to. I stood still and eased him into a small circle at a walk while the auctioneers tried to find something to say. He was a late add in the catalogue. No one knew anything about him. He has no bloodlines to speak of, no accomplishments, and his limited potential is buried under a mountain of reisistance and it would take a pro to unearth it.

He brought $300. A horsetrader bought him. My only hope is that some cowboy will get him and he will have a shot at having a job.

As I walked out of the ring the cowboys lining the exit were amazed. "You let him go for that?" They are used to me having a lot more horseflesh under me. I could just nod and go back to my car to unsaddle him. Old painto seemed strangely subdued too. Like he caught a bit of my depression. He groundtied like a broke horse and let me unsaddle him and toss the saddle in the back of my car. We didnt' speak. Just then the skies opened. It had been upwards of 100 degrees all day, and thunderheads had been building. It is rare in California to get a summer storm. Usually it stops raining in April and doesn't rain again until late November. But lightning cracked (lighting fires all over the hills) and the rain came splattering down. It was fitting. I left him tied to the hotwalker and drove away.

Although the day was only half over and I really hadn't worked that hard, according to what I usually do, I was exhausted and low. I had a headache and I felt too hot. With a heavy heart I walked through the barn and greeted all my ponies. I felt dirty, like I had been at a slave auction. Not only been there, but participated. Participated in playing god, having power over the fate of another living creature. I wish there was other answers. I wish all horses could be saved. I wish that more people had skill so more horses could realize their potential. It's nobody's fault, I guess, but it is sad anyway.

Monday, April 21, 2008

Circuit Champion

uWe got back from Reno last night, tired but happy to be home! It was a great trip. The NQHA spring show at the Reno Livestock Events Center was a treat. I went there hoping to get enough points to qualify for the AQHA World, and happily, I did it!



We got in late Wednesday night. Before leaving, we got the oil and transmission fluid changed in the truck, as well as filling up with a full tank of diesel. The day of leaving for a show is always a busy one, and I am used to working non stop, cleaning the trailer, making sure all the stalls at home are clean, all paperwork is in order, (for out of state trips), all horses are schooled, all horses that are staying at home are turned out and worked, hay is set out for the feeders, and a million zillion things I forgot to mention. It is good to get in a rhythm and not worry or stress. I have seen a lot of people who are not good at travelling and get to running around all scattered, getting in each other's way, stressing about being on the road. I am lucky to have learned from my trainer how to travel in an easy, efficient manner. It is good to have a set plan of how to pack and who does what. After almost six years now, we work like a well oiled machine; we know our jobs and perform them with little fuss, staying out of each other's way, and not forgetting anything.



Of course there are always things you don't plan for. Like getting halfway up the hill on I 80 (Donner Pass---Sierra Nevada moutains) and realizing the kids at Jiffy Lube put the wrong transmission oil in, and we have a bad tank of diesel that is slowly killing the fuel filter. We limped up the hill in third gear, with the pedal to the floor, going 25mph. I think I got us there with sheer force of will! So needless to say we didn't get there very early. Luckily, some of our clients beat us over the hill and were the ones who got to wake up the stall guy, locate our stalls, get the shavings put in, etc. It sure was nice having them do that! Although I'm used to it by now, it isnt' always fun rolling in somewhere past midnight knowing you still have at least an hour's work ahead of you, and that you have to be up at five the next morning to get ready to show.



The mornings at a show are always my favorite time. I dont' care how little sleep I got; once I am at the trailer, grooming and saddling the horses and warming up in the frosty air as the sun comes over the horizon, I am in heaven. The day brims with promise. The horses are all fresh and playful in the crisp morning air, in the vast outdoor warm up space at the Events Center. The cutting is in the semi covered arena where we usually warm up during the Snaffle Bit Futurity. Some of the other horse show classes are inside in the great big colleseum. I have gotten to compete in there once, on Cheyenne, during the Snaffle Bit Futurity in 2005. I can't wait to do it again!



I got on Hal and loped him in his bronc halter, listening to his distinctinve "phhhh, phhhh, phhhh, phhhh" as he blows out his lower lip in time with his lope stride. He felt like a winner and I was grateful to be there. It was my idea to come to Reno and to do AQHA shows this year, to go to the World Show. For the past five years I have worked hard to become a good apprentice for my trainer, and all that time, my showing has been on the back burner. I got to show if there was room in the trailer after all the clients horses were in, or if there was some extra money, but not too often, and I certainly didn't dictate what shows we went to. Of course this is all fair. Nothing like what I have comes free, or even cheap. It is a road lined with hard work, effort, dedication, and most of all, patience. I had to earn it.



Well it sure is fun when things start paying off. It is pretty well accepted now that I will eventually take over the business, and I have proved that I will stay around and do what needs to be done without complaint, no matter how late at night it is, or how tired I am. So now my show career is important, too, as a means for me gaining the seasoning I need to someday become a professional. So when I mentioned I was tired of doing just club shows and it would be nice if we all qualified for the AQHA World this year, my trainer agreed. I set out an itinerary of AHQA shows to hit, even ones in other states, and so far, we have hit them all. Hopefully there are enough shows to make sure everyone gets qualified. My trainer's clients need to be qualified too, so we can all make the trip together. Otherwise, it is too pricey.



The first day, the cattle were great! I looked at those cows and knew it was our day. My trainer schooled Hal on the mechanical flag just before our go and I was confident in how I felt. The key to success at a show is overcoming fear. If one puts a lot of effort into really building a good foundation of skill, getting those skills down pat, then when one gets in a stress situation, one can rely on those skills to be there. So much of it is technical, meaning what one has to learn and master, but so much more of it is mental...having the faith in the skills that have been learned, that they will be there, that they will work. So many people get to a show and immediately go on the muscle with their horse. And then things fall apart. It takes some time to get it to where you can just relax and rely on your foudation, your training, at a show. That goes for horses and people. It doesnt' work perfectly all the time, but I feel it is getting more consistent for me, at least.



I was late in the herd but it didn't matter. I went in and did my job and stayed soft and communicated with my horse, and walked out with first place under both judges and 2 AQHA points. It wasnt' the most spectacular run I have ever had but I was happy for several reasons. One, I made great cuts. Two, I got long on one side but then was brave enough to kick and send Hal over the other way to center us up. It takes some guts to do that in the show pen, trusting that once you get there you can stop and come back and everything will work. The coolest part was Bobby Ingersoll was there, and I asked him to turn back for me, and he did! He is one of my heroes. The man is a horseman, straight up. His brother Doug Ingersoll, also very well respected, sat in my corner, and Dale Tingle turned back for me, with my trainer in the other corner. It's cool going in there surrounded by living legends. It used to intimidate me; I didn't want to look like a fool in front of so many master horsemen. Now I realize that in cutting, I don't care who you are, everyone has "been there done that." The cow is the great equalizer.



It was really great when Dale Tingle told me I rode really good. He has seen some of my less than great runs so it meant a lot to me to know he noticed some improvement!



I think it was mostly the chaps.



I sold my cutting chaps to Peg. They didn't fit me any more and I think I want shotguns anyway. My trainer thinks I probably don't really want shotguns so he let me wear his pair for this show to see if I do. Well all it did was make me want them more. They fit me well and were very flattering. I never liked my old chaps; even though they are super cool, I always felt like they made me look heavier than I really am. The shotguns were cut in a slimming way and I could walk around in them so much easier.



Saturday was good, too. I had a better draw but the cattle were very numb. I had an okay work. It was kind of frustrating, because I felt finally ready to jump out and stop cattle, but every time I would do that, the numb cows would just look at Hal and keep going the way they were going. Oh well; I don't care who you are or how good you are, you can't make a winning run out of bad cattle--but you can stay in the cutting! I got a good enough score for second place, which was good enough for the extra point I needed to be qualified for the World. Peg won first; her first win at an AQHA show! Actually, only her second win ever! I was so proud of her. She rode so well and really deserved the win. Now she is halfway qualified.



Well with my second place the second day, I had enough accumulated points to be hi point cutting circuit champion. The bad part is that I also had enough points to be hi point cattle event champion...the prize was a beautiful set of silver engraved spurs...but to be eligible for that award I would have had to show in halter. Ha! Could you imagine Hal in the halter class? Lower lip drooping, tongue hanging out, maybe swinging around suddenly to call out his super silly whinny, stepping on the judges foot in the process, or maybe whacking one of us with his head? His long skinny pony looking head? Sheesh! Well we did get our circuit award, which was a pink slinky for Hal to wear, like a halter horse! He was so embarassed when I put it on him.



My trainer also got hi point Junior horse circuit champion on Pepto. I am so glad he has a nice horse to show now. Last year he had no nice horses to show. He often doesn't get to go down the road like some trainers do. He is so good, as a trainer, as a showman, and so underrated. People sure notice when he shows up to the show with Pepto though! She was awesome. She even got down on a cow and patted the ground with her front feet, back and forth, dat dat dat dat dat, daring that cow, eyeball to eyeball. Everyone hooted and hollered. He also won a pink slinky! Of course it will disappear into the depths of the trailer never to be heard from again.



The ride back was less eventful than the ride there; having gone to a mechanic and gotten the fuel filter and transmission oil thing straightened out. The one problem was that on Saturday night we ate at the El Dorado buffet, and I got food poisoning. Thank heavens it was after I was done showing. I was sick as a dog. I kept puking even after there was nothing left to puke up. My back hurts so bad from puking so much. (sorry; I know that's gross. that's not even the half of it.) I am still sick. I am weak and sore, and can't seem to eat anything except vegetable broth (organic of cousre) and peppermint tea. I certainly learned my lesson. I always bring food when we travel, and usually we eat in. No more buffets for me. I seem to have lost my taste for any "outside" food. Colicing is definitely not fun!



The next AQHA show is Paso Robles, in May. Then back to Fallon, NV, end of May. The great thing is now that I'm qualified for the World, there will be no stress!

Sunday, April 13, 2008

Critter is a... well...critter :)

Critter was difficult enough to ride when she was here in training! She is what would be referred to as a "hand" horse. Meaning you need to be a hand to be able to get along with her. She has an abundance of energy, a silly streak, and hormone issues. It seems like she is in heat all the time. She has a lot of running blood in her and is accordingly hot. She is a phenomonal athlete when she is right, and she is super cowy and can read a cow quickly and accurately. Getting her right... that is the challenge.

I liked riding Critter when she was here, even though it was often frustrating and not the most fun ride of the day. I liked it anyway because she would always teach me something. Learning how to get with a tough horse like her without getting in a fight, getting the point across, getting her dialed in...well that takes skill. There were times I was not up to the task and I would hear those devastating words from my trainer... "okay let me on her."

After her futurity debut, Critter went home. She is now being ridden and shown by her owner, a 19 year old semi-beginning cutter. He is showing her in two handed cutting for practice for a year before cutting on her. While my trainer can go through a good run with Critter, she is young and green and riding her two handed is a good confidence builder for both her and her owner. It will allow both of them to get some show pen seasoning while keeping things at a doable level for both of them.

Well he is a great kid, and he is a good rider. I told him that when Critter was here I loped her every day...even on our days off. Critter is the type of horse that needs consistent exercise. She isnt' getting it. I can't blame him for being the type who isn't interested in riding every day at this point of his life. He's busy being a college kid. (I understand that not every kid is a freak like me who lives and breathes horses horses and more horses).

Anyway, his parents bring Critter over when they come for their weekly lessons, in hopes that my trainer will school her. Lately, he has been making me do it. This helps them, since then they do not pay. It also helps him (hahahaha) since he doesn't have to ride her! And, it helps me. It helps me learn. It isn't always fun though.

So I get on her after she hasn't been rode in a week or so and of course she is completely silly. Luckily it was 92 degrees yesterday so it didnt take too long to get her tired. I can feel her owner in her, his bad side, his unsteady-ness. I could feel her wanting to be in a fight with me, waiting for me to muscle her around. How easy it is to fall into that trap and start hanging and dragging and pulling and fighting. But there is another way. A horse like Critter could get so bad if that is the road the rider takes. She would be the one rearing up, bucking, or just turning into total crap. It takes a lot to rise above that and figure out how to get through to her, overcome the fight and just do what I do. It takes faith in the fundamentals. Even when the horse is on the fight, and has been getting sloppy, isn't mentally ready to perform, a rider who has faith in their fundamentals, who can practice good fundamentals even when the horse is not cooperating. What it takes is singleminded focus on the task and what it takes to get the horse right, no matter what is wrong with the horse.

It seems so easy to start making excuses. "my horse isnt' doing this, my horse is throwing her shoulder, she's stiff, she is in heat, she is being an idiot, etc," but at the end of the day, the excuses dont' really matter. What matters is whether you were able to communicate and get points across despite all those particular circumstances. That is what I have learned from riding here with my trainer, and riding Critter.

Sometimes I am able to ride her great, despite circumstances. At the show last weekend, it was super windy and an open, "scary" environment, near a pond filled with noisy geese, but I got her dialed in anyway, even though she hadn't been rode in more than a week prior. Yesterday I wasn't as good. I started out getting in a fight with her. But then I "checked" myself and stopped fighting, and fell into my fundamentals, just doing what I do. Then I overcame the fight in her and we started working as a team. She got tired enough to stop being silly and accept my hands and legs. And I got soft enough to ask her light and help her do things right. We ended up looking like pretty good cutters!

Tuesday, March 18, 2008

Shasta

SHASTA
by Jessica Colvin copywright 2004

We all say our horse is our best friend, our one honest, giving companion. But who can describe the actual depth of feeling behind such words? Words don't come close. Words are a pitiful attempt at understanding something so fundamentally fulfilling to our soul.

Horses are the essence of the physical. They exist solely in the now. They serve to remind us how very precious living in the moment is. They show us how to cherish fleeting beauty, small wonders. There is nothing you can hold for very long. Horses give us tiny tidbits of joy, something that mends the heart, tells us why we keep going.

What about Shasta? Where have you ever seen such a face? Those kind eyes somehow escape explanation. I see her long head over a show stall door, early morning brightness illuminating fuzzy chin hairs, lip hanging, content in the knowledge that breakfast is on the way. Her eyes are filled with wisdom, unflappable. She knows what she's about. She knows what its all for. She doesn't question; she just is.

I see Shasta from the back, waiting her turn at the cutting pen fence, all warm, catching a quick doze before her two point five minutes. Perhaps the day is long and she is a bit onery. One hind leg is cocked, haunches askew in a position of lounging repose, stunted tail, too short, a bit scraggly on top, but the deepest most beautiful shade of red, swishing lazily from side to side. Her ears at half mast, not quite back, but back enough. The set of her jaw is grumpy.

Shasta is never truly grumpy. Her girl is on her back. Her girl sits there looking expectantly at the cattle. will there be one in there that will want to play? One to face up, turn on the magic? The key to the little Shasa-dance?

Her girl perches in the Piland, dressed in purple, looking right. Shasta knows she is surrounded by younger, more compact horses with dishier heads, but she dismisses them with the flick of a whisker. Shasta is a true cutting horse. She has cattle in her soul. She knows how to do the magic Shasa-dance. She and her girl live for that. The moment when two life forces temporarily join, and become one, with one purpose.

The moment has come. Shasta is tranformed. Gone is the rest and repose, and it is now clear that the attitude of crankiness was nothing but "it's all business." Shasta goes and shows those young fancy pants how to play the game.

She walks in one foot at a time, carefully picked up, deliberately placed, soft and assured, radiating calmness to the bovine bunch surrounding her and her girl. Her large eyes scan the herd and if you focus in, the background becomes indistinct. Another time is born, one of no fences, no corrals, just miles and miles of range, a circle of riders, cattle all around, a branding fire hot in the early morning dew. A Cowboy-girl in purple sits upon the wisest type of horse, the top of the top, elite, revered, the cutting horse. Together they select their target, and slow, fluid movement explodes with energy, fast, still fluid.

All watch expectantly as the dance begins anew. All agree there is nothing quite like it, nothing so remarkable as this simple cow dance. Determination shows in two faces, one human, one equine. Both know their role; they voluntarily come together for this dance, a meeting of two souls, so different, needing each other for fulfillment.

Her girl doesn't let her down. She lets the Shasa-dance get underway, staying soft and focused, gently assisting, lending confidence where it is needed, staying out of the way when necessary. A cow faces up in the center. Everyone watching leans forward expectantly. They all know this sorrel mare. They have seen her brilliance and are eager to see the magic happen again.

Shasta gets low. Her lips peel back, ears pin, eyes come together with focus. She begins to glow with energy; it crackles off her, makes her front legs dance in a two step, makes the seconds go by slow enough for all aware beings to be touched by the life force. It awakens something inside, reminds us of the beautiful things. The cow is beat. It turns tail and runs.

Later, the mood is festive. Shasta stands contentedly grazing, drying in the dying light of day, washed and curried as a token of her girl's appreciation. She is content with herself, with her girl, with her life. All is right.

These are the things that can never be taken away. There is nothing you can hold for very long, but some things can never be lost. Shasta is in your soul. She knows how much you love her.

Friday, March 14, 2008

In The Groove

Tonight was magic. Sometimes it just is. There are nights when the barn is still and the energy is right and everything just flows. We got new buffalo and we worked them tonight. Buffalo are great to work in some ways, and I am glad we have them in addition to cattle. I have gotten brave from working buffalo. They are quick and not quite as easy to read as cattle, and so getting good at working them is like "overpreparing" for working cattle.
When the buffalo are new, they have to be trained. They are wild and need to be eased comfortably into a routine in order to work well for training cutting horses. First, they need to feel comfortable at the new place, in their new pen. Then they need to feel comfortable in the arena without being worked. Then they need to be introduced to working in a way that gets them to relax and learn how to stop and look at the horse.
If it is not done correctly, you can get them running through fences, or diving around the horse, etc, and then they are not good to work.
It is important to use a horse that is quick and trained enough to stop the buffs and not chase them or be pushy and put too much pressure on them. Of course Hal is good for this job, so I got to "break in" two of the new buffs.
Earlier today I was watching the dvd we got from the Buffalo Ranch. It displayes all their stallions and shows their winning runs. There is something about watching those good runs... after a while I just watch the rider, and say it in my head as I'm watching...ride, stop, wait, wait, wait, ride, stop, wait....
I got that in my head and tonight I was lucid. Everything in the world made sense and I could feel each cell in my body being aligned, and Hal and I were as one. Even before I got on him I could tell the energy was right in him, too. He was happy and content, licking my arm as I groomed him, telling me he was ready to be a star. We warmed up on the mechanical cow and were in the groove from the first move, the first jump we were together. My trainer saw we had it handled and upped the speed a little, shortening the run, and I stayed with it, visualizing Beau Gaylean and Lloyd Cox in my head, how they sit, how those horses move under them, how it is fast and slow at the same time, the horse splattered all over the place and their head, there in the center, still enough to balance a plate on top of. Ride, sit, wait wait wait, sit, belt buckle right behind horn, soft back, I can feel my feet, my legs wrapped around Hal's sides like my legs are just part of him and his feet are my feet, I feel those back feet spread out, holding us steady.
Two minutes on the mechanical cow and I didnt' even pick up my hand once. That's all we needed and then it was on to the buffs. I used to be scared of the buffs, scared of being slam dunked, scared of not being able to hang with it. Fear fades with practice and repetition of course. I find I can read the buffs better now, and am not so worried about getting beat. Just hunt those stops. Hunt the stops and stay soft. When it is right there is a body awareness that I have also felt in yoga class, deep in a pose, my body singing, energy shooting out of it every which way. And it's fast, but it is slow, no little detail is missed. It is amazing the amount of concentration this takes, but when it is right, how little effort is expended. When trying slips into doing, and all tension is gone, things just flow.
These are the sort of rides a rider lives for, of course. And perhaps the horse, too. When we were done, Hal wasn't even sweaty. For him, as well, it was an effortless night, even though we made some huge moves. I walked him out a bit and then dismounted in the arena, pulled his saddle and bridle off and let him roll. When he was done rolling he came and stood next me with his head relaxed, eyes soft and content. He reached over and licked my arm and then let me know he wanted to go finish his dinner. We walked together (him free next to me) over to his stall and I opened the door for him and in he went. It is a friendship beyond words and we both know how good tonight was.

Monday, February 25, 2008

Saint Halbert

The NCQHA Winter Show in Red Bluff is known for being a muddy affair, but I enjoy it every year we have gone. The fairgrounds in Red Bluff have good barns, a track to warm up on (theoretically; it is usually pouring down rain during the show), and two great indoor arenas. Every year I have gone to this show, I have met people who compete in other disciplines, like roping and western pleasure, who are kind and genuine people. It is one of my favorite shows and a great way to start off the year.

This year was no exception. The first two days weren't bad, except for a few sprinkles, but the last day one of the biggest storms of the year blew in, in a big way! Like usual, the day we left was a long hard day, when all the horses had to be schooled, all the horses we were leaving behind had to be worked and their stalls stripped and bedded thickly. Of course it always happens that every non pro we have wants to come for a lesson and every owner we have comes over and wants to hang around and the farrier comes and Don's mother wants him to fix a thousand things, etc etc etc. I can always count on us leaving around 10pm, hungry and tired. Thankfully Don never makes me drive and doesnt' complain too much when I sleep the whole way there.

It's gotten so we have a well established rhythm for pulling into a show grounds and unloading. We know the routine and things run easily. The trailer was even quieter than usual; no more stallions at this time, and none of the naughty grouchy mares were with us this trip. Four geldings seems like a record or something.

We brought Lizzie with us. She is our rehab horse. She came to us neurotic, with a completely fried mind, eight months ago. In her six years of existence she had gone from a $65,000 dollar horse to a $3,500 dollar horse. Her career as a reiner hadn't gone as planned. She was good at sticking her head to her chest and running off, chomping furiously at the bit, every muscle in her body tense with fear.

The rehab process has gone well, although she is never going to be a horse for a beginner. She has a very big motor and she is super sensitive. But she is now enjoying her job and learning to relax. At home she has gained a whole lot of confidence, but at shows, she is still very nervous, anticipating pressure she wasn't ever taught how to handle.

Hal has been instrumental in Lizzie's rehab. Although a hot type horse himself, with a big motor, he has a rock solid foundation and absolutely no confidence issues. He is kind and reliable and puts up with babysitting neurotic horses. He has become Lizzie's security blanket, especially at shows. I got in the habit of ponying Lizzie with Hal, because it was easier than trying to lope her to warm her up. The act of ponying her, at a walk, trot, and lope, seemed to relax her, and Hal would lend her his confidence and solid, secure and calm demeanor.

Red Bluff's secondary indoor arena, where the cutting is held, is a sort of scary building, some horses seem to think. It is a metal building closed on three sides, and covered on it's open side with tarp-like screens. The panels are covered in tarps so the cattle do not try to run through them. Several horses we have brought there in the past have gotten unduly nervous in this arena and it took them a while to figure out how to relax in it. Lizzie sure was no exception. Thank goodness Hal was there for her.

At seven a.m., before the cattle are brought in, all the cutters warm up in the arena. Hal lopes freely in and out of the other lopers, in his bronc halter, lead rope looped to form reins, toting Lizzie as she hops and kicks, crowding him and biting him on his neck and shoulder. He never flinches, he never fights back, except for an occasional pinning of his little pony ears and a look that seems to say "now now, little girl, please try to behave yourself!"

There is nothing better than loping in the early morning, warming up for a show. Everyone's expectation and joy about being at the show is evident in the energy all around. What's even better is loping with two horses; one underneath me, one at my side, in perfect cadence with each other. I hear only the bhhhh bhhhh bhhhh bhhhh bhhhh, the sound Hal makes when he lopes, even tempo. His steady stride, his loose back, his even tempoed breath, bhhhh bhhhh bhhhh, has the desired effect on Lizzie and soon her dancing around, arch necked, hollow backed, becomes a loose, relaxed, ground covering head down stride. Her jaw relaxes and she stops biting Hal.

When they bring the cattle in, we stand and watch the herd being settled. Lizzie stands next to Hal, her ears sideways, her neck low. I reach over and scratch her ears and she is happy to be there with us, finally enjoying her life!

The third day of the show, the wind comes. There are gusts up to 60mph. The tarps around the arena and the hanging screens fly crazy in the wind; the corrugated steel sides of the arena sound like thunder. The last two days of relaxation are gone from Lizzie's memory. The new arena, flapping and rocking and rolling, is terrifying and she is covered in nervous sweat. Don has tried loping her and finds it to be an exercise in futility. He hands her to me, to pony off her babysitter, Saint Halbert. The first five or ten minutes around the arena are a test of my ponying skills. She tried her best to dislocate my shoulder or bend my arm ways it doesn't really bend. Good thing I do enough yoga to be somewhat supple, although my right shoulder and pectoral muscle is quite sore today. Through all the antics, no matter where she was, shooting in front of him, dancing behind him, biting his neck, biting his butt, trying to crowd him, pulling him and me across the arena, Hal never wavered. The rhythm was there; bhhh bhhh bhhh bhhh bhhh bhhh. Hal's lower lip is in a permanent state of floppy-ness. He has extra stretchy lips. That's where the bhhh bhhh sound comes from.

Soon Lizzie relaxed. She even got through a run in the Senior cutting, and managed to enjoy herself. Now she has another weekend under her belt, another little bit of confidence that will go into rebuilding her cracked foundation.

Thursday, January 24, 2008

Upping The Ante

Wednesday night is lesson night around our barn. Most of my trainer's clients can't come out during the day since they work, so they come at night. Usually Wednesdays are a lot of fun because there are between 6 and 9 people coming out to ride. Everyone encourages each other and my trainer turns everyone's lesson into a lesson for everyone, as we can all watch and learn as everyone goes. Of course you have to check your ego at the door for this to work! I'm used to it, personally. Most every time I get a lesson and there are people here, I am used as an object lesson for the others; it is rare he actually will coach me--I have to listen to what he is telling the others I am doing wrong or right and make adjustments accordingly. I get my real lessons when no one is here.

Anyway, everyone got there late on Wednesday and so when I was done saddling and warming up all their horses, I asked my trainer if I could get my horse and he said no. This is rare; I really must not pout because most times I can always ride too. I could understand it. After all, it was really cold outside and getting late. But I guess about 3/4 the way through everyone's lessons he must have gotten tired of watching me pouting at the fence (hahahaha) and told me to go get my horse. I got Baby Jane instead of Hal because I haven't blanketed Hal this year and he is a big fuzz ball. Baby Jane is much more slick coated so she would dry easier.

I have been pretty confident on Baby Jane this week. So I got her out smugly, warmed her up quickly and stepped up to the cow like "watch this!" hahaha
And we were smokin... we looked like Snaffle Bit Futurity champions or something. Of course my trainer is smart and saw I was showing off so what does he do? What he always does when he sees someone get cocky; he upped the ante. He yelled at me to put my hand down now and don't pick it up DON"T PICK IT UP!!!!

EEEK! Well I haven't ever put my hand down on Baby Jane and of course he caught me off guard. I put my hand down and he yelled to give her more rein. I admit I was a bit nervous because of Baby Jane's propensity for seeing the reins swinging out of the corner of her eye and getting scared and suddenly jumping 15 feet sideways. This did happen several times to the delight of the people watching and my trainer, who chastised me for letting her do that and yelled to relax and just go to cutting. Of course I've been in this situation now many times and feel I'm getting the hang of it. That's the thing; he puts pressure on me and I am starting to be able to step up to the plate and perform anyway. That's what a competitor must do. So I hunkered down, pushed on my horn, pushed on Baby Jane's neck, whispered a prayer about doing well even on such a green horse and went to trusting my stops. And we cut. We cut pretty good!

Later, one of my trainer's non pros' said wow he really puts the pressure on you; and I said, yeah, well Bill Belichick isn't easy on Tom Brady either. I was happy that, but for a few bobbles in the intereim when I was nervous about the ante being upped, I managed to gather my wits and get to my job, doing it well at the end. As we walked back to the corner of the pen where everyone else was gathered on their horses, my glasses fogged up from the steam and I was hot in my jacket. Baby Jane was self satisfied and confident; confident enough to take a bite out of Peg's horse, Scrapper, as he innocently stood next to her. I guess she counts herself among the "big guns" now that she can be a hand down cutting horse!

Sunday, January 20, 2008

Baby Jane Update and a Successful Show

After a few days of getting to know Baby Jane at home, I got another try at our in public herd work at a cutting practice on Friday. This time we were absolutely smoking! We didn't miss a beat; it was so fun! The practice cattle were corriente roping steers. Lots of people don't like cutting these, but I do. The thing about roping cattle is they have a lot of "look" to them, and will play with your horse. If you get in their face, they WILL stop! Its just that if you get behind them in a chasing mode...well forget it. I think the people who don't like cutting them probably don't like them for this reason. However, if you dont' get out of position, if you don't chase, then you can jump back and forth all day and never get out of the center of the pen.

Okay, so I know that since we cut these kind of cattle we really didn't work on the issue that kept us out of the money at the show last weekend. Last weekend we got running cows and the problem was she was tight on a cow; I couldn't get her to go across the pen freely-she just wanted to crouch and jump back and forth. When I legged her more strongly to go across with the cow was when she kicked out and tried to buck. We have been working on that at home, however, on the round pen mechanical cow, and I dont' anticipate it being a problem again. We are getting to know and trust each other and I am starting to understand the feel of her. At home I have been working on rating the cow on long runs and keeping her up, going all the way to the stop.

At the pracice I could feel her desire and craving for cattle. She is such an intelligent, happy little pony. I always knew that, but now that I get to cut on her, and show her, a whole new dimension is added to our relationship. I do think we are going to be great friends.

I also practiced on Hal. Ever since December, I have been riding Hal two handed in a snaffle bit at home. When I was in Fort Worth, I spent a lot of time watching in the practice pen, and watching the two year old guys riding their sale horses two handed. I know what I like when I see it, and the ones I want to emulate are the smooth ones, the ones who have independent hands and good secure seats, who don't try to override their horses or do a lot of contortions in the saddle to get the job done. At one point my trainer was watching with me and I pointed out one of the ones I admired. He told me "you don't ride too much different from that now; the only difference is you lack the amount of seasoning that guy has." WOW!!!!!

Anyway it struck me that most of my struggles with Hal is I was not in the right mindset, about getting things solid in the foundation with him. It is like I thought I had to be too excited about riding him because he is such a high powered horse, more horse than I was used to previously. I was getting too anxious, always trying to get these huge moves, riding too quickly, getting Hal amped, when he is more than happy to get amped to the point of being out of control.

So when we got back from Fort Worth I decided to ride him like a two year old rider, two handed in a snaffle, working on the foundation stuff and getting us on the same page. This is good for Hal anyway. He has plenty of move. The key is to slow him down, get him to relax. I'm starting to understand what Paul Hansma is always talking about in his video. When you have the "A List" type horse, that is what you do. Previously, some of the horses I have rode have been the type I had to motivate a little. Well Hal certainly doesnt' need any motivation! He is motivated enough for both of us. He lives for jumping back and forth, crouching and shaking. He does it in his stall.

Every day I rode him this way. I did not blanket him this winter and he is somewhat fuzzy. So after every ride I have been currying him dry and I also think that is helping our relationship. Our relationship used to consist of only rubbing and currying, before I ever owned him. This is a good thing for Hal; he missed out on "being owned" for so many years and I think he really appreciates the extra attention.

At the practice on Friday I put a bridle on him and went to cutting. It was one of our better runs. I felt so confident and relaxed, letting him do his thing, and he stayed back and stayed correct and most important, stayed mentally connected to me, instead of getting out into the atmosphere somewhere. My focus held up as well and I am so glad I didn't fail him.

I think I have a new attitude towards showing this year. I have a feeling it is going to stick, too. Learning to ride, train, and show is a lifelong journey of course, but it is also a journey of self discovery. The better I get, the more I learn, the more I find out it has a leveling effect on my whole psyche. I am centered; I am grounded. And I am feeling fine about showing this year. The fear is gone. All of a sudden, I realized it just isn't necessary to be nervous. It is like a football game. It means everything...for an hour, and then it is over and it doesn't mean anything. It means everything and nothing all at once. It is so important to the person there and does nothing really to change the world. All a horse show is is a chance to showcase your horse to the best of your ability. It isn't about the person. It is about the horse. The only reason I am there is for Hal, to let him do what he loves to do so much. Why would I want to mess it up with silly human worries?

I went to the show on Saturday with this attitude. I also felt prepared, fully prepared, probably for the first time on Hal. I understand these things take time. There wasn't much chance of me being really prepared last year when I showed him; we didn't know each other well enough yet. Now, though, with my extra slow work at home, the extra hours put in, I feel closer to Hal and prepared to go let him be his best in front of the crowd. So that's what we did. Even loping around warming up Don's horses before my class I was in a different mindset.

I am prone to excitability and an abundance of energy. This can be a real asset, but not when I let it get me scattered. I feel energy from everyone; when in a crowd this can be something that gets me all scattered, like a horse at a show for the first time, overwhelmed with all the new sights and smells. This time I didn't let the snatches of conversation and other things around me distract my focus from the task at hand-warming up Don's horses and then my own, turning back, holding herd. I was serene and happy just to feel the horse beneath me, working for me.

And we showed so well. My herd work was superb and we were the picture of calm cool. I stayed centered and we didn't miss a beat. We won our class. This is just the beginning for me and Hal.

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

Baby Jane And Me Will Make A Good Team



Tonight I decided to practice on Baby Jane. Wednesday nights are usually lesson nights and if I saddle a horse, I can get a lesson too. My trainer has decided I will show Baby Jane this year in two handed cuttings so she can get seasoned.
I have known Baby Jane since she was foaled. I held her mama when she was bred, I watched Jane get born. I did all her preliminary groundwork and started her. I rode her a bit in her two year old year, but since she was my trainer's "A" list horse, he rode her much more than I did. He rode her almost exclusively her three year old year. I rode her maybe 5 or 6 times. I warmed her up all the time for him, I mean, but as far as cutting, no.
He showed her in a small futurity in Washington, where she drew in a bad bunch of cattle and didn't do much, but she has all kinds of potential; that much is readily apparent. Since that futurity, in late October, she has had some time off.

A few weeks ago, I started riding her when my trainer said I would start showing her. I mostly legged her up and worked her a few times on the mechanical cow, just trying to get used to her.
Baby Jane is pretty goosey and stingy. I have always known this about her. She is reactive to leg and ultra sensitive. I am glad the first young horse I showed was Gem Pony, who was a lot more level headed, forgiving, and mellow. It was good I had Gem Pony first as a young horse, because I wasn't ready for something of Baby Jane's caliber at that time. Now that I have Hal and I have learned to have better timing, etc, I am ready for Baby Jane.

Sometimes when she sees the tail of the rein out to the side she skitters sideways and I feel her get some air under her tail. I knew she would be this way when she was a baby. She is one of the babies from the first crop of Stylish babies. That year all the babies had mega chrome; white legs, big blazes. All except Jane, that is. Plain sorrel, not a speck of white. When she was a foal she looked like a curly horse. She had little curlicues out her ears; her baby hair was kinky, and she had a fro mane. She still has the fro mane. But she is no longer a Plain Jane. She has filled out and become beautiful, despite her plain red wrapper. Hal, of course, is also plain red with no white on him, with a curly frizzy mane.

I did a lot of ground work with Baby Jane; a lot of sacking out. I had an idea she would be like her dam, Nita, who had to have a bag of crushed soda cans tied to her head for two weeks before she would even tolerate seeing your elbow out the side of her eye. The ground work brought out Baby Jane's naturally friendly temperament and made her eager for kisses and love at all times, but didn't really eliminate her natural goosey-ness. Now that Nita is 9 years old, she is feeling broke and somewhat gentle. She isn't as scooty and skittery anymore, though she grabs herself from time to time.


(first saddling; she thought about bucking but it wasnt' serious)

I took Baby Jane to the show on Sunday to practice. It started out pretty good, but I didn't lope her near enough and she felt all balled up and ready to blow at any second. She was tight on a cow; I couldnt' get her across the pen, she just wanted to crouch and shake. I kicked and kicked and kicked a bit harder and she then let me know exactly what she thought about that by bogging her head and letting out a giant double barreled kick out.
Needless to say I learned we have some work to do to get together and that a bit more warming up will be on the bill for next show!
Anyway our ride tonight was spectacular. Everything worked; my timing was right, we were a team. My trainer actually said to me, "there aren't very many girl trainers who ride as well as you did tonight." (he meant cutting horse trainers). Wow. It's not every day I get a compliment like that!!! I'm walking on air.
It's rides like tonight that keep me going when things don't go so well. So much in cutting is so hard, and my trainer is so demanding of me. (which is good; I am demanding of myself, as well). I am learning to do more than just ride a cutting horse; I am learning to train them, and train them right, train them well. I don't want to be some hack. I don't want to be some just get er done yayhoo who sacrifices sound horsemanship principles in the name of winning or getting thrills.
I am really looking forward to getting to show Baby Jane. I feel so lucky that I get the opportunity to ride and show such a nice horse. Every day I go out in the barn and I like my job more and more. Simply walking past and rubbing a nose sticking out of a stall door makes me smile and feel content; content that all is well in the world and I am exactly where I need to be. My life is full and happy with my horse friends all around me.



Monday, January 14, 2008

Huge Wild Eyes Cows Running Towards Me In The River Of $hit

While riding today, I was talking to Barb, one of our non pros, who was out for a lesson. She was talking about the, as she said, "irrational" fear she had of her horse, Maddy, and the buffalo. A few months back, we were at a practice in Merced, and Barb was trying to warm Maddy up on a cool, blustery night in the huge open MHA arena. Maddy bucked REALLY hard. I saw it and was astounded that Barb managed to stay aboard. She had bruises on the inside of her knees and lower thighs from hitting the swells and the horn. After that episode, she had been somewhat afraid of Maddy.

A few months later, she brought Maddy over for me to ride a few times; she hadn't been on her since the episode in Merced. I rode her with no real problems, three times, and then Barb brought her home. The next week she was back for a lesson on Maddy and it all should have been fine...except it wasn't. Barb couldn't get over the fear she had. It actually paralyzed her. When we brought the buffalo in the pen, she couldn't stand it any longer and got off Maddy and left the arena. I went over and got Maddy from her and got on Maddy and turned back for my trainer as he worked the buffalo on another horse. Maddy was a bit cowfresh but didn't offer to buck or do anything bad. After my trainer was done, I went and boxed a buffalo on the back fence, really driving Maddy up to it, getting right into it's face...again, no problems. My trainer then worked Maddy, and finally Barb got back on and worked Maddy herself.

Still, the fear remains. That was the topic of conversation. She couldnt' understand why the fear remained, why this irrational fear was not letting go. She is a brave person. She is one of the most determined people I know. She has ridden horses that were much more unpredictable than Maddy, with no problem.

I told her I, too, had had episodes like that. The problem with an "irrational" fear is that it doesn't matter how other people view it, or how many other people don't have a problem with what you are afraid of. Nothing you can say to yourself seems to help, because the fear pervades not only your thoughts, but your body as well. It gets into your cells and makes your body react in defensive ways that you can't "fix" by just trying to rationalize things in your mind. What's worse about it is the internal reprimands you give yourself for being afraid when you shouldn't be; the embarassment you feel for "failing" in certain situations where you feel you shouldn't fail.

She told me the problem was mostly with the buffalo. She thinks she can ride Maddy okay as long as things are kept slow-in her comfort zone. Buffalo, though, are out of the comfort zone. They are big and scary looking and she doesn't trust them. Just like the Holstein cows on her husband's big dairy. Just the other day he had her out helping him separate some cows in the alleyways. It was wet and the alleyways were slick with water and cow excrement, a veritable "river of $hit." Her husband ran a bunch of cows down the alley towards her, and told her to stand her ground, don't let them through! The alleyway actually had a downward slope and she was at the bottom of it. Here come these Holsteins, all wanting to be on the other side of her, all 5 feet 3 inches of her, serving as a tentative and very apprehensive blocker. She looked at their eyes rolling in their heads, wild and determined, running down the sloppy alleyway, and let out a little scream and leaped for the side fence of the alleyway, climbing to safety. Of course her husband was pissed and didn't understand what her problem was. They are gentle milk cows, nothing more!

As she related her story I realized that sometimes fear is a problem of perception. When Barb's husband looks at his Holsteins, he sees gentle milk cows who will stop if he stands in the middle of an alley and waves his arms. He sees animals which he can control by having a commanding presence. And it's true, the absence of fear, a self confident demeanor, works wonders for controlling livestock. When Barb looks at the Holsteins, she sees animals that weigh half a ton at least, and have their minds made up to go where they want to go. When she looks at the buffalo, she sees creatures who have wicked horns and big huge heads, who make snorting noises and have no problem crashing through a fence panel or two.

Now I know, because I am very familiar with the buffalo, that they are pretty predictable, and they really don't want to run into your horse. You can read where they are going to go by watching their eyes and ears, and individual buffalo have unique patterns of how they move; once you know the pattern, you know pretty much what that buffalo is going to do every time.

So to get over some fears, education and exposure can work wonders. The more Barb hangs around the dairy and watches the cows and how they react in certain situations, she would gain some confidence in working with them. Watching the buffalo, watching others work with them, etc, would probably help her get over her fear of the buffalo. The fear comes from unfamiliarity. Because she doesn't know how the buffs will react, it colors her perception of them.

Watching me and my trainer ride Maddy without having a problem helped convince her that Maddy was safe for her to get back on, even with the buffalo in the arena. Sometimes thats the best way to overcome a fear. Watch and learn. When you have some knowledge about how a situation will play out, you can then have confidence in your ability to handle it. Sometimes the key is just time and exposure.

For me, this is what worked when I had a problem with Pistol a few years back. Pistol was as her name implies. She was hot, goosey, broncy, silly, unpredictable, and so quick and athletic that all these traits were magnified. While a goosey horse really doesn't bother me, Pistol was above and beyond, because of her athletic ability. She would be gone out from underneath you before you could even blink. It's not like I can't sit a horse that jumps sideways suddenly...duh, I'm a cutter, that's what I do.

Well she got me one day; as I was getting on she shot forward and yanked the reins out of my hands. I was half on and half off and didn't quite feel comfortable stepping back down as we were now at a full run and the stirrups were oxbows. So I tried getting all the way on. I was already behind her motion and the effort was futile. I bounced off her hindquarters and got shot up and over the other side of her into the fence, hard enough to knock my glasses off and dot my vision with dancing multicolored stars. After that episode she was funny about mounting...for me, for my trainer, for my trainer's daughter. She would attempt to bolt every time someone would mount. Of course this just added to my apprehension about getting on her. Getting on is a vunerable position. Once I'm on a horse, secure in my seat, both feet in my stirrups, things are good. It is that half on, half off, one leg holding up my body the other swinging out behind me, perched and at the mercy of the horse...that's the scary part.

It got so I wouldn't even ride Pistol. I would make excuses. My trainer would have me get Pistol and I would; I would saddle her, walk her to the arena, and then tell him I had to go to the restroom could he please hold her...and then I would stay in the restroom for 15 minutes or so. Long enough for my trainer to get sick of waiting for me and get on Pistol himself. He didn't have the fear of her bolting. He is much more confident in his ability to cheek a horse around and get on one like her.

After many times watching him get on her and her not bolting on him, I started to feel better about getting back on her myeslf. Instead of perceiving her as a half tame, unpredictable horse, I started counting the times I saw her as a completely normal, if hot, under-control horse who stood still for mounting. My trainer also helped by holding Pistol for me as I got on, until I was confident again that I could mount her without assistance.

There were times, though, I attempted to get over this by myself. I would get her out, and lunge her until she was a bit tired, and then attempt to mount myself. My breath would start getting shallow and short, and I would start to sweat. My heart would start to pound and my legs and arms would go shaky. I absolutely couldn't control it; it just happened and I seemed powerless. The just do it mentality just wasn't happening in this situation. Trying to just push through the fear has worked for me in many scenarios, but not in this one. The fear had gotten into my body cells and was affecting my physiology despite my rational attempt to work through it. At those adrenaline filled moments, it didn't matter that I have a job as a colt starter, that I have successfully rode bulls, that I STARTED Pistol! Nothing mattered except that I couldn't make myself get on her.

In this situation, coming at it from another angle, actually changing my perception of Pistol, was what worked. I think this will also work for Barb. The more times she sees Maddy being good, being sane, under control and not wild, the better she will feel about riding her. The more she is around the buffalo, watching them and learning their reactions, the better she will feel about them.

Another thing that helps overcome fear is confidence in your own ability. My trainer was never scared of Pistol bolting as he mounted because he has complete confidence in his ability to handle a situation like that even if it comes up. In order to feel that way myself, I practiced mounting and dismounting properly and fluidly on a broke horse I was sure would stand still. Shadow was a saint, patiently standing for me as I would get on and off, on and off, on and off, from both sides. I got so I felt very comfortable cheeking a horse around and mounting quickly in one fluid, balanced and athletic motion. I practiced correct form until it came naturally and wasn't something I had to think too hard about.

These newly improved skills helped when I started riding Pistol again. I never had another problem like that with her, and gradually, the memory of my accidental dismount faded away, out of my mind, and out of my body reactions.

So what happens if you find yourself facing a bunch of wild eyed cows running towards you in a river of $hit? Well I guess that just depends on your perception of that situation and the confidence you feel in your own ability to handle it.

Thursday, January 10, 2008

How To Do A Rollback, western style

Here is the first of my how to essays, written in 2005:

How to Do A Rollback.. by Cutter123

When a horse does a good rollback maneuver, it should be smooth and finessy, all one motion, like an ocean wave coming in and going out again.He should stop square in an athletic manner, by loading his hocks and hindquarters, rounding out his back, and keeping his head "neutral" with a soft poll and jaw. (by neutral I mean not up in your lap and not down below his knees or with his chin to his chest).

He should then immediately suck back a bit so his weight is concentrated over his hind end.His ribs should be arced away from the direction he is going to turn, which will arc his nose and hip slightly into the direction he is going to turn. He should start with his nose, and his body should follow his nose through the turn nice and cleanly, picking up his front end neatly and balancing through the turn on his hind end.When he comes out the other side, he should push off with his outside hind leg and go off cleanly and smoothly the other direction, on the correct lead.

He should turn like a rope, or a string, not like a 2x4. Simulate this at your desk right now with a shoelace or peice of string and a pen or pencil. See the different way they turn? A string is fluid. A pen is straight and stiff and therefore will "swing like a gate." When the front end turns, the back end turns the other way. When this happens on a horse, it means the horse "swaps ends;" basically losing all athleticism and making a sloppy, stiff move. (think: Napoleon Dynamite equine version).

In order to help the horse execute this maneuver properly, a rider needs to be balanced, and have good enough timing to apply the aids right when they will help the horse, and in the right manner. Think in your mind about a horse doing a rollback in slow motion without a saddle or a rider. Think about it until you have it clear in your mind. Now add the saddle and rider and see if you can understand where the rider's weight/aids have to be.

First, the rider needs to ride the horse all the way to the stop, sitting up square in the center of her saddle with her legs right underneath her with a nice bend to her knee in an athletic position. A few strides before she stops, the rider comes in with inside leg applied at the cinch to create the slight bend in the horse needed to execute the rollback. The hands stay neutral and the outside leg still applies driving pressure a little further back so the hip doesn't kick out.Then the rider sits her stop.

She does not lean back and pull, stiffening her lower back and therefore stiffening the horse. She sinks down in her saddle, SOFTENING her lower back and absorbing the stop in her joints...hip, back, knees, ankles, all of which are soft and flexible. The rider's upper body is still neutral...not leaning back, not leaning forward, not twisting in the direction she is about to go.

(This is a big problem for a lot of riders. If you feel like you are getting a sloppy, out of control "swap endy" type rollback, make sure you are not twisting too early and "taking off before your horse." ) In the instant the horse stops, rider's inside leg comes out. If the rider keeps inside leg in during the turn, (and we are taking about a horse that is responsive and knows how to do a rollback...teaching a rollback to an unresponsive horse is another matter and I can get into that later if someone wants me to). Anyway, if the rider keeps inside leg on during the turn it screws up your rollback in several ways....one, a rider who is balanced but keeps the inside leg on during the turn will be sitting in such a way to drive her horse forward around the turn, so she will get a barrel type turn, or even bigger, depending on the timing and effectiveness of her other aids.

This is FINE if you want a turn with forward motion.

But if what you want is a rollback, which is a "hold your ground" motion, then it isn't correct.

Rollbacks that hold their ground are especially important for cutters and cowhorse people and cattle penners, because if you go forward in your turn you put pressure on the cow and cause it to run faster, and you also come out behind it, losing your advantageous position.(good rollbacks are also good for other disciplines too. My friend Stephanie, for example, is a barrel racer. When she goes around a barrel it is with forward motion. But when she is practicing and schooling her horses, she oftentimes does rollbacks, even backing up several steps in the process to teach her horse how to be on his hip).

Two (what happens if you keep your inside leg in during a rollback).... Often we are not talking about a rider that is completely balanced with good feel and timing. A lot of the times a rider wants to "turn for her horse," and she will inadvertently lean the direction she is going to turn. This weights her inside leg. If you think back to what I was saying about physicis, you will understand this puts the rider's body weight in the way, making it impossible for the horse to make a clean turn (unless you have one of those saint horses that will actually shrug you back on top and then turn, but even then you cause him to lose some of his athleticism).

Other riders, when they use direct rein to tip their horse's nose, they don't know how to use their aids independently of each other, so they brace against their pull with their inside leg. (Imagine starting a lawnmower, you know how you put your leg on the lawnmower so you can pull against your leg, for levearge...good for starting a lawnmower, bad for getting a good rollback). This will cause your horse to kick his hip out and lose all power/impulsion.

Okay, so we've established our rider sits her stop and takes her inside leg OUT. She is still sitting square. Since she is sitting square, her horse stops square, and his hips don't kick out to the outside. (If they do, you are leaning the direction you want to go, or twisting, or throwing your hip the direction...you are thinking about turning too much. Forget about thinking about turning, and think about stopping, backing up, and letting your horse come through himself).

Now our rider sets her hands and softens her back so she encourages her horse to take a step or two back. (this is for practice and for green horses. When your horse is schooled, he should suck back on his own, slightly, enough to execute a good rollback)Now our rider uses inside rein to tip her horse's nose the direction she is going to go. Her inside hand back and up slightly, towards the outside beltloop/hip seam of her jeans/pants. This motion originates from the shoulder. Elbow stays bent, wrist stays straight. (I caught you, huh! How many of you cock your wrist like Will from Will and Grace when you pull????) As inside rein comes up and back, outside rein has to release so horse can tip his nose. Outside rein comes forward and slightly down. This will also have the added effect of helping the rider twist her body correctly, looking the direction she is going to turn, and weighting her outside seat bone. The horse will start to follow his nose.

DO NOT lean back. This will push your horse forward and make it hard for him to stay on his hip. Stay right over the horse's center of balance, (right behind his withers), which puts you in the front of your saddle, up over your feet. Keep your lower back SOFT (this could be the most important part), so your horse is invited to come through your back and round his back out, using himself athletically.Your outside leg should be slightly back, but still passive at this time. If you take your outside leg forward to help your horse make the turn at first, it will work, but it is also a stiff, hoppy type turn because you are forcing the horse's shoulders through the turn at the same time as his nose.

The rider will start feeling the thrust of the horse's turn sliding her to the outside of her saddle. She allows this to happen, staying balanced by putting her weight on her outside leg. As the horse is in his swing, coming out the other side, the rider then cues with outside leg to add impulsion and help the horse push himself out of the turn. The leg cue comes in anyhwere after 90 degrees, preferably at about 135 degrees. If the outside leg comes in before or at 90 degress, the rider then forces the horse's ribs through the turn too early, which will stiffen him up.When the horse is out the other side, hands come back to neutral, rider comes back to neutral, and applies both legs to ride out of the rollback. She does not lean forward; she sits right on top and squeezes with both legs to create impulsion.

If you are having trouble feeling the rollback, do this exercise at a walk and close your eyes (after you practice a few times with your eyes open).Walk forward, then use inside leg to leg away until you really feel a bend. Stop and back up. Make the stop and back up one smooth motion.

Do not stop and then release your hands and then gather him back up for the back up.

Stop, and keep your hands set until your horse comes off that bridle by backing up. Your hands should be set even.

When you feel your horse backing up really nicely and not sticky (and if he is sticky, make sure you aren't leaning back and your back isn't stiff), then simply release outside hand, just let go of the reins with your outside hand while keeping your inside hand set how it is.

At the same time, lean forward and to the outside, like you are going to reach down and kiss your horse's outside ear. (This means your weight is in your outside stirrup) You shouldn't be doing anything with either leg at this point. This is just an exercise to help you gain feel. Do you feel how when you release the outside rein and "kiss your horse's ear" he swings underneath you? His front end swings away from where your weight is, and he crosses over in front and pivots around. Practice this a bit until you can really feel it. This is an exaggeration of the cue but it will help your body reprogram itself to do it properly, especially if you have been having problems getting to the inside of your rollback.

An Introduction

Hi all, I am a new blogger. I have been writing on several horse related bulletin boards for a few years. I am getting tired of that. I'm not much into arguing or justifying the way I do things, and the last straw came when I opened up an issue of Performance Horse Magazine and saw my words...word for word...printed there as a how to article "written" by some young cowhorse trainer I had never heard of. Yeah.



I feel the need to write, but I'm not motivated enough to be a real writer with an editor and a publisher and all that. I want to share the riding and training knowledge I have dedicated my life to obtaining, but I want to make sure it is ME sharing it, not some other person who read my writing on the internet and decided to make a training article out of it.

This blog will be multifaceted. Sometimes I might just feel like rambling about things...my life, what I am doing and learning, what is happening in the barn, and mostly horses.
I am also going to search through the bulletin board archives and transfer some of my how to essays over to here, so they are saved, and unquestionably mine. Then I will delete them from the bulletin boards.

Hopefully people will get something out of these essays. If not, that's fine too. Writing it is mostly for me anyway. I welcome comments and questions.

Cheers and happy blogging!

Fort Worth...good place to start off

Oh we are finally back from Texas!Wow what a drive. I have done it several times, but I must be getting old or something. I used to be able to crash in the truck, heck I would sleep in the bed of my pickup, or on the beach, or in a pasture; I did that plenty throughout my twenties... it didn't matter. LOL the first thing I did when I got home yesterday was head for the chiropractor!!!!I got cracked back into shape and now I feel much better. Anyway, we went to Fort Worth to the NCHA Futurity. We transported 6 horses there for the NCHA Select Sales- five yearling colts and one broodmare. And we brought one back, a four year old show mare for one of my trainers clients. The new mare is by Peptoboonsmal out of a daughter of CD Olena. She seems very nice so far! Anyway, the haul to Fort Worth takes 2 days. We leave the ranch around 11am and pull into Tucson fairgrounds at about 6am the next morning. This is with a few stops for water and such for the horses. My trainer and I trade off driving and sleeping. We put up the horses at Tucson for about 7 hours, get some sleep, and then head out from there around 5pm, and get to Weatherford around 8am. We got a new truck this year, a 6 speed Dodge one ton. I have hauled our three horse with it a few times, and driven it to town several times. I don't usually haul the 7 horse; it is so long it is tricky to maneuver. I will only haul it on long hauls in the long flat straight parts We set out in the rain. Our first stop was a south 99 truck stop, where I was hit on by a marine fighter pilot. You should have seen this guy. It would not be hard to imagine him sneaking through an abandoned warehouse or bombed out building, automatic weapon in hand, searching out bad guys, like the bourne identity or 007 or something. He has been in Iraq twice, among other places. He was a colonel. He had some sort of Russian or Eastern European accent, and a name of a Roman Gladiator or something. Of course I am so clueless and oblivious I didn't realize he was hitting on me until about 50 miles later my trainer was laughing quietly to himself, and I was like, "what?" He said, "that guy was hitting on you and you didn't even know it." LOL. Well I guess I just don't understand things like that. I mean, sometimes I dress up like a girl, with my hair down and nice clean jeans and a nice sweater, maybe something form fitting or something...this was NOT one of those times. Lets see, I was wearing birkenstocks, a pair of low rise wranglers that are a size or two too big...big enough that I have to keep hitching them up every couple of steps so they dont' fall off, and a baggy old sweatshirt with a frog on the front of it, giving the peace sign, sitting in front of a campfire, with a tent, some mountains in the background, and stars in the sky. It says "Peace Out." My hair was scrunched haphazardly into a bun of some sort, and I had lipgloss on I think, but nothing else. Now what in this picture makes one think a marine fighter pilot would find a girl like this attractive???? Well anyway. I slept most of the way through So Cal as my trainer drove and then took over driving right before we reached the Gala Bend turnoff (to bypass Phoenix). Of course, it always is a bit nerve racking at first, hauling other people's horses. I figure I had about $150,000 or $200,000 worth of horses behind me. Yeah. It's a little stressful at first. Lucky I get the flat part, and the 3 in the morning till sunrise shift. This means there isn't much traffic; most of the other vehicles on the road at that point are long distance truckers. I would rather drive among these guys than regular traffic any day of the week. These guys are professional drivers and know road etiquette, unlike many commuters. I love the passing game. A big rig goes to pass and then before they get back in the lane in front of you, they put their turn signal on and wait, and you give the "okay you are far enough past me for safety" signal by blinking on your high beams once or twice. They then merge and give you a "thank you!" signal by blinking their tail lights at you. Different truckers have different signals. It is a polite thing, and a neat thing, communicating a bit in the dark with "ships passing in the night." I set my ipod low and mellowed out to some Neil Young and the miles just flew by. When we pulled into Tucson, it was rainy and windy. Now usually we put the horses up in the outside pens. They have 2 whole rows of 36x36 pens, set slightly apart, with an aisleway in between. We will pull right in that aisleway and turn them all out, crawl up into the gooseneck and catch some z's, in a good position to keep an eye on the horses, ensured they are safe. Since the weather was bad, this was not an option so we put them in stalls in one of the barns, every other stall. Everyone was well behaved except one. He was nervous and herdbound, worried about his new surroundings, and was standing on his hind legs trying to climb out of his stall. So instead of getting my nice nap, I had to settle for sitting in a folding lawnchair outside his stall, holding onto his leadrope until he settled down. Ahhhh. The glamourous life. I slept through the entire state of New Mexico. We always go through New Mexico during the night, so there isn't much to see anyway. If we were on 40 instead of 20, I would be more interested, I guess. I was born and raised in New Mexico, but in the Northern part, off of 40. The southern part is like most of the Panhandle country of Texas...long, flat, and straight, smelling of crude in many places, oil wells endlessly pumping with heads like bucking broncos, up down up down. My trainer asked to use my iPod. I said sure! I have a dealie that hooks it to the truck radio so you can play it through the vehicle speakers, but he opted for the earphones so I could sleep. I was somewhat thankful for this...see I have more than 2600 songs on my iPod...out of those, my trainer likes exactly 1 of them. The Traveling Wilburys, "End Of The Line." This is not exactly true; if I made him listen to some of the others, he would like them, too, but he has very limited musical taste. He is the type of guy who is happy enough to listen to one song he likes.. over and over and over and over. So I made him a playlist, with that one song, and set it to repeat. The only problem was he sang along. Well, he sang along with George's part, and sometimes Roy's part. He doesn't know all the words. I took over driving right outside El Paso. Now that is a funky city. Any of you ever been along 20 through El Paso? The border fence is right there, this huge prison looking fence, topped with concertina wire. Look to the US side, you can see the high rises of El Paso, sparkling silver in the sun. Look to the other side, shanties, made of cardboard and pressboard, as far as the eye can see. Its a trip. My trainer fell right asleep. This is his least favorite part of the drive, he calls it the most boring part. Truthfully, there isn't much for scenery. If one looks on a map, Texas looks filled up, every nook and cranny, with roads and towns and such. But Texas is BIG. And there are a lot of wide open spaces, darkness for miles around, intersperced only with an occasional oil rig, lit up like christmas, like a beacon in the night, an alien outpost on a far away planet. I set the cruise control and wiled away the miles. Driving long hours is tough on me in some ways. I am an active type person. Sitting still that long is difficult. I can make it fun by writing stories in my head, but I get pretty restless. Driving through that darkness is something else though. Sometimes I was the only one on the road for miles, not another headlight in sight. Despite such a populated planet I felt alone out there, peaceful, as if I were in the Voyager 11, slingshotting my way around Saturn, somewhere out in space, dark and absolutely silent. I think it would be quite an experience to be out there, like Major Tom or something, surrounded by nothing, just silence. I could be underwater, deep, deep under, swimming and floating through miles of deep blue. I often think of what it would be like to be an animal, to not speak or have language. We always have all this noise. Even out here at our ranch there is lots of noise. The highway is close, and we are surrounded by almond orchards. Often we hear the shakers or the sweepers or the tractors. If not them, we hear the crop dusters or the neighbors atv. What it must have been like before all this busy-ness! We got into Weatherford around 8am, on schedule. Somewhere around Sweetwater the temperature dropped to freezing sleet, and a film of ice built up around the antenna, growing until we were forced to pull over and scrape it off, for fear the added weight would tear the antenna completely off. It was miserable cold when we arrived at the ranch we were to drop the sale horses. Weatherford is like cutting horse mecca. On the roads between weatherford, there are huge spreads, one after another, with miles of drill pipe fencing and broodmares in immaculately groomed pastures, fancy entry gates, roads leading to huge indoor arenas and outdoor round cutting pens done in texas style mesquite stake, each place more beautiful than the last. It is the start of me, every year, feeling a bit overwhelmed. In Texas, everything is big. Done big, in every single way. I love going through all the places, going through their barns, etc. It puts anything in California to shame. It makes our place look pretty sub-par, though it is more than adequate and I remember all the time to be thankful for the indoor arena and other amenities I know many are without. I always have to remember to keep things in perspective when in Texas. It is easy to get carried away, seeing all the money there, the things some cutters have. Heck, when it comes down to it, it is about the riding. Our horses are happy and well trained, and well fed, and secure. I have the best job in the world, and I get to ride some fancy horses. I was never one for material things, anyway, heck, my parents are hippies and I am not too far from that myself. Money helps, fancy places are nice, but what it comes down to is ridng, and the horses. For that, all you need is want and desire.