Whose Blog is this, anyway?

Our new farm name is "Hoofbeats." Hoofbeats Equestrian Center, to be exact. We've been working on the logo and I asked Dad (who is in China and blogs here) what "hoofbeats" is in Chinese. Well, here it is:

It translates literally to "Horse bottom of foot voice."

Wow.

And Xu Li showed us some handbags. Dad was the model.

Lucy Went Missing

Lucy and Shadow came outside with me this morning when I fed the horses. But I did not take them to the Meadow. Instead, I left them at the door where they could stay dry if they wanted to.

When I came back, there was Shadow at the door. But no Lucy. I looked everywhere. At least I thought I did. I looked downstairs in the basement, and upstairs in all the bedrooms, and downstairs in every room, and even in the stalls in the barn to see if she had gotten stuck in with one of the horses or with the cow or in the empty stall. No Lucy. So I went and got Rocket and got on him and rode off looking for her. It was raining, and although I had planned to ride last night, when I saw the weather this morning I had decided against going. But Lucy missing is a serious event and so off I went in the rain.

Riding in the rain is fun once you get into it. You do have to dress right. You have to have wool on one of your outer layersand you have to have a bunch of layers. When you walk outside, if you can feel "weather" anywhere on your body, you have to turn right back around and go inside and add yet another layer, or a scarf, or a hat, or gloves, or whatever. But having done all that, you can have a lovely riding experience. Horses don't mind the wet. Sometimes, I'm pretty sure they like it. Having watched my horses for a while, I have come to believe that they mind heat and sun much more than they do a nice long downpour.

Rocket and I trotted down the road and encountered three separate vehicles with hunters in them. You can spot a hunters vehicle from a half-mile away. It is usually a beat up jalopy, and as they get closer you can see one head in the driver's side, one head in the passenger side, and usually another silhouette of one or more heads in the back seat. Then when you get level with the car you see that it is stuffed full of burly men. None of them has shaved in a long time. They all have dark tans and startling pale eyes. And usually at least one tooth missing. I have no idea why this is the case. I'm very sorry to all you hunters out there who tell me that you have excellent teeth,  no tan at all, and hunt all by yourself. I'm just telling you what my experience is. Each one of the vehicles stopped and at each one I was greeted with a quasi-toothless grin.

I have to admit, these hunters scare me. They look inappropriately gleeful and when I see that, I think of alcohol and guns and cars all in combination. Then throw in the fact that I am on horseback on a road where many of these hunters go by every day. Having said that, everybody that I saw and talked to was very nice. And since they were cruising up and down our dirt roads, I figured they would be pretty good at spotting Lucy. If they didn't hit her first.

No luck from the hunters, though. Just as one of the vehicles pulled away, Rocket tensed and looked off to the left. I peered through the trees to see what he was looking at. It was a herd of deer. The car that I had just left coasted forward to the next driveway, backed into it, and came back towards me. They stopped and looked at the deer. I trotted back to them.

"Just so you know," I said. "Last year, somebody willshot a deer right here in this road. Those deer go across this road all the time. But you should have seen the woman who lives in that house." I indicated the house near the field where the deer were. "I thought she was going to kill somebody."

Expressions within the car wavered between glee at what they thought might have been a funny story, and surprisingly, fear.

"So I would not advise you to try to shoot one of the deer that are in that field. I don't know what she'll do this year if somebody shoots a gun that close to her house."

They nodded sagely. As I trotted away, feeling a bit smug, I heard them turn the car around again and head back the way they had been going in the first place.

But of course, as I trotted down the road, I began to think about the possibility that Lucy had been shot.

Rocket is walking very nicely these days since Cordell trimmed his hooves and made a few adjustments to the shape of his foot. He's less choppy. He really did not want to pass the Meadow and keep going, but I pushed him across the covered bridge and to Elizabeth, Magic, and Allen's house, looking in the woods all the way for Lucy. When I got there, I rang the doorbell and Elizabeth came out, followed a little while later by magic. Elizabeth offered to come over and help look for Lucy. Magic was on her way to a riding lesson but said she would watch the road as she went.

So Rocket and I went home through the woods, me a little bit nervous (and yes, Mom, I know you're nervous now too), and Rocket in a bit of a hurry. The paths there are winding and narrow and have many overhanging branches, so I practiced some of the bareback moves like ducking under branches (it's kind of fun: you close your eyes and hug your horse's neck and rely on him to carry you forward) and leaning into turns just exactly when his shoulder and foreleg were ready for me to. He seems to enjoy threading his way between trees that grew closely together.

Rocket swam across the creek. And then I discovered another advantage of bareback riding: when your horse is getting ready to go deep into a creek, you just pull your feet up and perch on top of him, and then you will not get water in your boots.

So, although I was worried for our lives and Lucy's, still, we had a pleasant ride through the woods and home. Elizabeth was there, but she said that although she went into the house, she didn't find Lucy there. I was disappointed. I had hoped that Lucy would come back to the house on her own.

I took care of Rocket and then Elizabeth and I talked about what to do next. She said, "did you check down in the basement?" I said that I had, but I hadn't checked the laundry room. I said, "I have never known Lucy to go into the laundry room and I can't imagine why she would, but I suppose I will just doublecheck."

I went into the house and took off my boots and walked around and down into the basement. No Lucy. The laundry room was dark. I switched on the light and looked at the pile of laundry. One of the towels raised its head.

"Lucy!" I said, joyfully. She lumbered to her feet and greeted me as happily as I greeted her. "I found her!" I called to Elizabeth.

Everybody celebrated: me, Elizabeth, Shadow, even Mimoka. We had a little dance party in the kitchen. I made tea and Elizabeth and I drank tea and planned Danny's special day next Sunday. (And yes, Danny, I can tell that you're interested now even if you weren't before). We decided that hot cider, hot chocolate, cider donuts, and Apple pie would be in order.

Then we chatted about my lunch with Scott yesterday. We talked about the horses, and our dogs, and the party that Elizabeth was going to tonight for somebody at her work. The rain pitter pattered outside and the tea was warm on our hands and steamy in our noses and comforting as we sipped it.

These are the moments, I thought. These are the moments that a busy life obliterates. And I vowed to myself always to have time to have tea with friends.

So Danny, obviously you will be wanting to know what exactly is up for next Sunday.

But that is for later...

As if I needed evidence of Rocket's general willingness to do the right thing and to be helpful, he has started doing this thing that I find absolutely adorable. A couple of weeks ago I used a bucket to get on him. I placed it next to him and then stood on it. He stepped sideways and nearly knocked me right off of it. 

I wondered if perhaps he was trying to line himself up. We do that against fences and rocks and logs sometimes and I have been working on giving him cues about exactly where to stand so I can get on easily.

And he did it again yesterday. I had put a bridle at him (with a bosal this time) while we were in his stall. I brought a bucket in and set it next to him in exactly the right place to get on him. I got up on the bucket and he stepped sideways to get closer to me, again knocking me off my balance. It was wrong, but also very cute. I could see that he wanted to get me on top of his back, so he stepped sideways thinking that that would transfer me from being next to him to being top of him.

So I adjusted the bucket and let him know that I was amused and that he needed to do something slightly different. When he got truly lined up exactly where I wanted him I praised him and told to stand still. He did, and I scrambled up onto his back (getting on bareback is an awkward process for me while I try to do it using just my left arm).

Riding Bareback

Gawani Pony Boy takes riding bareback seriously, and writes about it in his book Horse, Follow Closely. Also, Stacy Westfall is amazing. I have included this video before, but for those of you who haven't seen it, this is definitely worth seeing.

Unfortunately, in Competitive Trail Riding, a saddle must be used. I don't know about endurance riding. But for pleasure riding and general trail riding bareback is an excellent choice. So below, I've summarized some of the things that I know about bareback riding. I learned to ride bareback rather than with a saddle, and I have been riding bareback since I was seven years old.

Relax -- It may seem counterintuitive, because when you're riding bareback you want to hang on with your legs. But this is a mistake. When you hang on with your legs, you transmit tension and stress to the horse and also up your body. It puts you out of sync with your horse's movements and eliminates the wonderful shock absorption powers of your waist. So if you're having a choppy ride bareback, relax. Relax your legs (stop hanging on) and loosen your waist; imagine that your whole lower half from your waist down is part of your horse. Your other half, from your waist up, floats above your horse. When you ride bareback, you can even relax your posture a bit 

Turns -- Turns are much nicer when you ride bareback. If your horse turns suddenly to the left, for example, when you're riding in a saddle, your weight gets thrown to the right. I don't know exactly why this happens, but when you ride bareback and your horse makes a sudden turn to the left, your body tends to flow more naturally with the horse. This means that your horse has a much easier time turning.

Courage -- Saddles feel more safe. They feel like they hold you on. And actually, they do, when they are working properly. Western saddles especially are designed to help you keep your seat. So it takes a certain amount of courage to ride without saddle. On the other hand, saddles are dangerous. Your safety depends on your equipment working properly, no matter how good a rider you are. But when you ride bareback, it is you and the horse. No cinches can break, no stirrups can fly off your feet leaving you frantically adjusting your seat to compensate, and if you do fall, you fall cleanly.

Trotting -- The myth is that trotting is less comfortable without a saddle. Now, this varies from horse to horse, but I have found that trotting is more comfortable, not less, when you ride bareback. This connects back to what I said about relaxation and courage, but if you are relaxed on your horse then you can have a very smooth and comfortable sitting trot.

Posting -- Most people don't know that you can post even when you ride bareback. Posting happens because one side of your horse's rump rises as his rear leg on that side moves forward. That action moves you up and forward a little bit -- the beginning of the post. And then, the rump on the other side is up and forward. When you post bareback, you don't go up and down, a you go sort of side to side and front to back. The little bit of up-and-down that you do is very closely connected to your horse's up-and-down. Again, it is essential to have a relaxed torso and upper legs for this to work.

Cantering -- Cantering and galloping bareback are wonderful. If you are relaxed, you will feel like you are floating. The only disadvantage to cantering and galloping bareback is stopping. The one thing that I don't like about cantering bareback is that for some horses, cantering means feeling spooky or it many horses are more likely to jump sideways when they are cantering. This is very hard to handle without saddle to help you. Even so, I have been on many horses that jumped sideways at a canter and stayed on just fine. I'm not sure what my body does when my horse's body communicates fear, but whatever it is, it's very quick and usually effective. I've learned to trust myself.

Slowing down -- the most difficult transition in bareback riding (and in fact riding with any kind of tack) is slowing down from the canter or gallop to a trot. I have still not completely mastered this. However, I am learning that leaning back with your lower half when you feel a slowdown coming -- or even to communicate to your horse that you want to slow down -- is a really good idea. This is hard to describe, but picture yourself leaning backwards up to your torso and leaning slightly forward above that. Grabbing on hard with your legs usually throws your top half forward and then you end up grabbing hold of the mane and stiffening even more to keep from  flying over your horse's head. This is instinctive, but absolutely the worst thing you could do. It rattles your teeth and throws you up into the air, and then you want to grab even harder and a nasty cycle begins and only ends when you and your horse become sensible enough to get back into sync with one another. For many horses, grabbing on with your legs signals that they should speed up again, and if you're also hauling on the reins to slow them down they can become  confused. Then it feels like their four feet suddenly explode out into four different directions, stiffening at the same time, like four stiff machine-like pistons. This is the opposite of what you want. I will write more about this as I learn.

The essence of riding in general, but especially riding bareback, is that you and your horse are one being -- a centaur. Rather than thinking about instructions such as the above as separate pieces of information to employ individually, keep in the front of your mind an image of you and your horse together as a centaur. Think of the energy flowing around your horse and you as uniting you both into a single creature: one creature with a single point of balance, a single focus of thought, wrapped within and held together by love.

Missing My Boys

Every two weeks occurs what I call "the long haul." It is a stretch of five days when the boys are with their dad. I grit my teeth and put my head down and kind of plow through those five days because I miss them. I try to look at the bright side -- activities that I can do (like fox hunting and working and long, long trail rides) that are difficult when they're around. Sometimes that makes it all right but other times, I turn a corner in the house and see something (like Mikey's duffel bag, packed carefully with individually selected stuffed animals, each with a name), and I feel a sort of gap open up in my inner world, shaped exactly like Mikey or Danny.

Fortunately for the children, they have become used to this process and besides, they have a loving parent in the other household, so I don't think they have the same kind of experience. And that's fine. They shouldn't be feeling bad in either house, for any reason.

And the good news is, when they are here, everything is right and perfect. 

Shadow

Of Children and Puppies

I need to say something about the children. When I write in this blog, I write about the horses, and the farm, but I don't say much about the children. The reason for that is that our lives are under an electron microscope right now for reasons that some of you know. Anything that I say can be used in ways that I didn't predict.

However, I kept journals about the children and their lives before our "public" image became an issue. And now, they have become interested in seeing the blog and I think they would enjoy reading about the adventures.  So I'm going to revert to my old habits and include them in this blog.

So about the puppy... his name is Shadow. He is 12 weeks old and mostly black and he has a border collie sheltie mix.

On Saturday, Danny and I drove all the way to national and New Hampshire to get this puppy. Danny had no idea where we were going but he did know that it was to get his birthday present.

The ride to Nashua was pleasant. We brought along a bag of snacks and I fretted about the fact that we might not have enough room in the car for the "present." Sometimes, as we drove along, I felt like bursting with excitement. I wanted to talk to Danny about the puppy and it is not an easy thing for me to keep something like that secret. But the specter of Van was over my shoulder -- he is the conscience of our family when it comes to keeping secrets until it's time to reveal them. He becomes irritated when somebody blows a secret before it's time.

Horses have an energy field around them -- in fact the essence of "horseness” is not physical but energetic. Our job as riders and trainers is to combine our energy with our horses', or rather, to allow our energy to be combined with theirs, in ways that don't disturb the beauty of the combined energy.

It is the same with children. The difference is that we are of the same species in our energies blend very easily. Furthermore, children have a very complicated agenda when it comes to combining their energies with their parents'.

Danny has the sweetest energy and the most loving persona of any person I've ever met. Imagine what a treat it was, therefore, to spend seven hours in the car with him sharing the happiness of a birthday present. I glanced over at him occasionally and felt a surge of happiness each time I saw his expression of contentment and happiness.

Meanwhile, Mikey was having an excellent day at his friend Cole's house. When we picked him up on her way home, we brought the puppy into the house for everybody to see, and Mikey talked about what they did that day. He played in the barn and tried to catch some wild kittens. Imagine how fun that is when you're nine. The barn is filled with round bales and Mikey and cole played games on and around them.

And now we have shadows energy as part of our family. He is somewhat timid at this point. I think he must be the best named (good job, Danny) animal I've ever met. When we walk around, he shadows us -- stays exactly behind and to the left of somebody's right heel. He moves completely silently. I would describe it more as a glide. He is mostly black and it's easy to lose track of him. Even when I walk with him, it's like he disappears, because he's in my blind spot and so very silent.

So this weekend with the children has been one of opening up our lives to a new being. Even Lucy has opened up her heart to the new puppy. She calmly anchors him and has taught him already some of the routines of our family.

I guess we have just begun yet another new adventure.

(I'm still using Dragon NaturallySpeaking in and out of time to go back and check this. Will check it later but in the meantime if something sounds confusing, it's a "speako".)

Yesterday

I held up a leash for the cashier to see. "My son got a new puppy today." 

"That's exciting," she said, smiling.

I held up a package of paper bowls. "He's thirsty." She smiled again.

I held up a new pair of pants in boys' size 12/14. "He threw up all over my son." She laughed out loud. 

I held up the towel. "And now we need a new seat cover." She continued to laugh.

Waking up

HELLO, said my shoulder.

"Whatever," I said.

Vet Visit

Burlington Equine has become a sports medicine organization. Randy came out and helped when the horses had strangles. I have a lot of respect for him. He also  came out yesterday to evaluate all five of our taller equine herd members for "fitness" for the plans we have for them.

The star of the morning was Cocoa. Despite the concerns raised by one of the people who came out see him, he is completely sound. His vision is perfect, his hocks are fine, his back needed a single adjustment (already done) that Randy thinks will hold for a while. Cordell has been adjusting his feet slowly over time, and Randy thinks this is the correct strategy. Coco stood quietly for his exam and for the chiropractic adjustment. He moved around the ring and demonstrated for Randy his preference for the trot over the canter. When I asked Randy what he thought Cocoa should do for a living, he suggested driving. I think that puts all of us in agreement now that Cocoa needs to learn to pull and will be a very flashy and exciting horse in harness. Randy suggested that this would actually open up a market of buyers for him. I am so happy for Cocoa that I would like to throw a party. It has been a long haul for him and he has come through like a star.

Meg: her choppy gaits can be fixed. She needs dressage training to fix her posture. She also needs some chiropractic adjustments. It will not be easy to change the confirmation of her neck, but it is possible given time. When I told Van, he was very happy for her. We are still discussing exactly how to bring this about. One of the possibilities is that she joins him in Georgia and he takes lessons on her.

Ed: Randy recommended changing him to the Ultium feed that Dante and Cocoa are on. He said that conditioning is very important for his well-being in light of the HYPP. He is allowed to have sweet treats like carrots and apples. But he also recommended vigilance -- horses with even mild HYPP can die of it. Plans for Ed -- ride him. Feed him. Love him.

Dante: can't do tight circles or jumps. Will enjoy a light trail riding and possibly even second field foxhunting. I want to find somebody who can foxhunt with him in the second field. I think that he will absolutely LOVE it.

Rocket: has sore withers. Needs a bit of bute. Needs a better fitting saddle. Is sound and perfect for endurance.

Having Randy come out and evaluate these five horses was one of the best things I have ever done in our rehabilitation program. I think taking a sports medicine perspective on any horse entering our program is going to help us figure out exactly which direction to move the horse in.

Thanks, Randy.

Tally Ho Continued

After much milling about the hunt was finally ready to move out. I was so nervous that I thought I would burst -- or maybe it was just excitement. I expected a sudden dashing off but actually people moved off rather slowly. I took my place in the line and tried to stay there and tried to stay very, very quiet. Francie was riding a very exciting dressage horse. In fact, many of the horses were excited and doing things to show how badly they wanted to go for a long and exhilarating gallop with the whole "herd." Heads tossed, hooves scraped the ground, legs worked up and down as the horses struggled to standstill despite the f

act that their bodies were bursting with the energy of a gallop. Rocket went forward and I could he feel his body become electric. But the most he did was to need to walk and trot in circles. What a good horse.

Our field master told us it was okay if we talked amongst ourselves as long as we weren't near the dogs. So I got to know some of the other riders. Heidi was there on a Morgan horse who was dancing with excitement and trying to get away with her. I don't remember the other people in the field. But we moved off at a walk and then at a slow trot. We saw the first field gallop away and soon they were out of sight. We trailed behind them.

Rocket struggled to be the first in the second field. That is the place of the field master so I had to hold him back. I didn't like hauling on his mouth the way I had to to keep him in check. But I could not let him go. The etiquette of the hunt dictates orderly conduct from horses and people.

The next half hour to an hour was all about walking, trotting, and cantering gently and watching the hunt from a distance. The mountains in the distance were blue. The hunt from a distance was spectacular. Flasks came out and mix a this or that were exchanged among riders who knew each other well. The mood became more hilarious.

After we got the hang of things, I asked to move to the first field and was granted permission. So when we had an opportunity (when the two fields came together at one point during the hunt), I cantered  forward and joined the faster field. All this time I was smiling like my face would crack in half. I saw some new friends as I joined the first field. "I'm moving to the first field!" I called out. Everybody beamed. 

But within minutes, the dogs were off, and the first field galloped after them. And I do mean gallop. We started trotting and trotting faster, and cantering, and then pretty soon we were all in a flat out run. We ran across a field, we turned sharply to the left and under some branches and continued on, and then another left, Rocket amazingly keeping up with Thoroughbreds and Morgan horses, and then yet another left and into the woods where we cantered and galloped down a hill and across a gully. When we came out of the woods a hold was called. We waited a few minutes while the dogs rediscovered the scent, and then off we went again at a gallop, this time through a serpentine trail and at one point the horses had to jump a stream. During this ride I fell more deeply in love with Rocket than ever, because he handled himself intelligently and even took care not to throw me off balance. I lost my stirrups once and started to fall forward on him and he brought himself slowly to a stop and then stood still and I could see his attention focused on making sure that I kept my seat. What a smart horse...

After jumping the stream we continued our gallop up the hill and we wound amid the clatter of hooves and mud down the hills, around the edges of tiny fields, and under trees and then emerged from a sharp ascent into a small field with a jump right in front of us. Horses streamed over the jump but I steered Rocket to the right because I have never jumped him and didn't want to start in that situation. After some resistance, he went the way I indicated he should go, and then when he caught sight of the jump out of the corner of his eye, he shied to the right and away from it. Note to self, I thought. Teach Rocket about jumps.

After the jump, a hold was called again and everybody laughed and compared notes about the previous part of the ride. Apparently, this is about as tough as it gets. I felt like I was glowing. Everybody else looked like they were glowing, too.

The hunt continued, following the dogs off along the fields and waiting for them to find the scent again.

And so it went. Walk, trot, Cantor, watch the dogs, watch the "whips" handle the dogs. Gaze at spectacular views, let Rocket grab some grass to keep up his energy. At the holds I stretched my legs and sat sideways on him. The English saddle works very well for this situation. I now understand why the hunt seat is the way it is. You use your feet and ankles and knees as shock absorbers almost like you are on a bicycle, not a horse. It's about flexibility, and balance, and "floating" above your horse. You need to lean forward so you can see the terrain ahead of you. Leaning back in this kind of situation is a mistake, because of the sudden changes. You really want to be over your horse's shoulders. I could say a lot about how much I learned about riding just using the hunt seat in the situation it was designed for.

We rode for many hours, until the sun was beginning to come down. At long last we  (wearily) crossed the final fields and ended up back at the trailers and cars at Francie and David's house.

Then everybody tended to their horses. You could feel in the air the gratitude the people felt for their mounts. Each of us wanted to show our horses just how much we appreciated what they had just done for us. All the expensive gear came out: luxury blankets, soft brushes, pads for legs, combs for main and tail. I saw people massaging their horses. I wished I had a blanket for Rocket because it was becoming chilly and he had worked up a pretty good sweat. Another note to self.

It took a while to get Rocket to get on the horse trailer that was taking us home, because there was a horse on it who was a stranger to him. But he did it in the end and I gave him hay and tied him and and went down to the house for "breakfast." I got myself something to eat and something to drink and then started to strike up conversations with people I hadn't met yet. That was short-lived, though, because someone came and told me that Rocket had gotten out of the horse trailer (!).

I put on my gear again and jogged up the hill to where he was grazing quietly next to the trailer. Clearly, the other horse had done something to scare him and he had actually backed out of the trailer under the bar that was behind his rump. I didn't even know horses could do that. But it was then impossible to get him back on the trailer. Several people stopped to help me and one of them offered to drive us home in her trailer.

That trailer had two other horses in it but they were separated by a high wall. We tried to get Rocket to step up onto the trailer, but he had no intention of getting on another trailer with another set of strange horses. So I took them around to the side of the trailer where the horses were sticking their heads out. He got a chance to sniff them both and the one standing nearest to him was showing curiosity and friendliness. After that when we led him around to the back of the trailer again and tried to get him to step up, he resisted, but not with fear, simply with a preference not to do this. But we worked with him and let him think about it and urged him up and he finally got on.

The ride home was pleasant because my new friend Lee-Lee (I have no idea how to spell her name) was delightful company. We compared notes about our history with horses and about the hunt. Finally, Rocket and I were dropped at the end of our driveway and I led him down to the barn in the dark. The other horses caught wind of him and greeted him eagerly. He walked wearily into the barn and sighed with satisfaction at being home again. I fussed over him and gave him his grain and hay and felt strange to be leaving him to go into the house and take care of myself.

After such a weakened, Rocket and I have become closer than ever. We learned to rely on each other and to care for each other and to enjoy each other's company through 15 miles of trail riding and I don't even know how many miles of foxhunting. Since that weekend, whenever Rocket sees me, he murmurs a greeting in horse talk. I murmur back.

I'm sure I will be writing about foxhunt in the future. This is definitely something I want to do more of, and it is probably some of the best training Rocket could get to prepare for his long-distance competitions.

Our first race is going to be in January of 2009. Contact me if you'd like to help "crew" for the race.

Tally Ho

Next morning I spent an hour or so getting everything together that I would need for the hunt. Also, I read a lot online about hunt rules. They're very precise. You MUST wear a stock tie knotted properly and heldin place with a horizontal pin. This is because the stock tie can double as a bandage in the event that anyone gets hurt. You must wear a black riding helmet, buff riding breeches, a black jacket, a white shirt, tall black boots, and no earrings. 

Kate was explaining foxhunting to me and her barn employee Heidi the night before. She said one thing that really stood out in my mind: that foxhunting is not an equine sport; rather, it is a canine sport. Fox hunting is about the dogs. Hence, riders must fade into the background. One important way to do this is for everybody to conform to a dress code so that the dogs, and secondarily, the horses, become the features of the hunt. 

Because it is a canine sport, the riders and their horses become spectators of what the dogs are doing. You ride in "fields," each governed autocratically by a "Field Master." The field master counts the members of her field and attends to their safety and enjoyment, something like a hostess. But you must absolutely do as your field master says, and you must tell her if you decide to leave the field. In fact, you must ask permission. She is tending to many things, not least of which is staying out of the way of the dogs so that none of them gets kicked. I think it must be hard to be a field master when you have new huntsmen in your field. For example, I saw the field master do a double take when she suddenly realized that two riders had disappeared. They had gone to check on a third rider who had fallen and left the field. The proper etiquette is to ask the field master if you can leave even for such a reason as that. It makes sense: if she doesn't know where the members of her field are she must go and find them. It is a heavy responsibility, being the field master.

The first field consists of riders and horses who can handle a more intense experience. They go faster, they go longer, and they go over jumps. Most of the jumps these days are "fixtures." They have been placed along the route specifically so that they can be used in hunts like this. 

This club does not hunt real foxes. A woman was "laying the line" so as to make for a good hunt through absolutely gorgeous terrain. I'm not sure what she used. Something to do with anise.

We had a beautiful day: gloriously sunny and, because it is autumn, the sun was low on the horizon and the light was dramatic. The distant mountains looked blue.

English tack is required. I did not know whether Rocket could be ridden English. He is so comfortable going Western and neck reining that I never tried it. So, attired properly, I gathered together the English saddle, English bridle, and everything else except the stock tie. I called and left a message for someone to loan me one. I also found someone who would give me and Rocket a ride home in their trailer afterwards. Miraculously, the event was coming together for us. 

Cordell gave me a ride down to New Haven. He helped me saddle Rocket. I was nervous. There were some other people at the farm who were going to the hunt. They were in a hurry. They had a trailer, and I didn't, so I wasn't sure if Rocket and I were going to make it in time. We had 2 miles to hack cross-country to get there. Nothingfor it but to try.

So off we trotted and cantered across the first field, in the English tack that I haven't used in many years for anything more than a few rounds in the ring. It took a couple of field lengths for me to get the hang of it. And then, I started to like it a lot. I'd forgotten how much easier just to use your ankles and knees as shock absorbers when you are riding English. I felt that I was a better partner for Rocket because I could vary my seat to match the terrain he was dealing with.

Rocket was eager to move after he got used to the idea that we were leaving a farm that had lots of horses. I was glad that we had extra time to warm up. I was especially glad not to be trying out new tack around a bunch of expert riders at a fox hunt. Half a mile across and fields, a short distance along the road, then back heading north On North St. 

We cresteda gentle hill and there they were: the members of the hunt, beautiful from a half-mile away, and I could hear the dogs. Few things generate as much excitement in a horseback rider than the sound of dogs braying eagerly for the hunt-- and this is something I did not know until that very moment. We cantered gently across the field. Nice people processed us -- meaning gave us forms to sign and fixed a loose buckle on Rocket's tack. Somebody else gave me the stock tie I had called earlier about. Someone said, "you made it!" And there was Francie on her stunning dressage horse. 

The horses were excited. Riders moved on their horses this way and that to give them an outlet for their energy. 

I was assigned to the second field. They said that some horses become so excited that they do crazy things. They felt it best that we take an opportunity to look and understand before participating in the most intense part of the hunt. I thought this was quite sensible and gladly took my place with the second field. 

Around this time I learned the great secret foxhunting: sherry. A person on the ground walked around among the riders offering us "smoke" something or other, a term that escapes me at the moment but that is related to the tradition of the stirrup cup. The stirrup cup actually hangs from the stirrup and you use it to accept a small amount of sherry at the hunt. Things are not so formal in this hunt club; we were offered plastic cups of sherry.

Almost everybody partook. Later, I learned that this is jokingly referred to as "a drink of courage." In fact, many riders had flasks attached to their saddles. During the hunt, people would drink from their flasks and then offer to their friends. And here I thought I might have begun to understand the need for all the rules. What a great sport -- you get a little tipsy, you do what you're told, and you have a beautiful adventure without having to call too terribly much on your own (perhaps alcohol impaired?) judgment. What a great system, thought I, as I accepted my own cup of courage.

More later. I couldn't sleep because I was thinking about this hunt among other things and decided to get up and write about it here. Note to new readers: I am using speech recognition software while my shoulder heals and it doesn't always understand what I say. If something doesn't make sense, just think about what it sounds like and you might be able to figure out the intended meaning.

At Any Rate, It's Traditional

I headed out for a two-day trail ride, and ended up at a fox hunt!

To say that the ride was different from what I expected would be an understatement, from start to finish. Rocket and I left home with a camera, a cell phone, a water bottle, a sandwich, and an apple. I had my layers of clothing on, and my helmet; he had clean hooves and the most comfortable tack I could arrange for him.

We went out the back way across the creek to stop by at Magic's house. Nobody home, so we kept going up the field and across another fields and then across a very tiny field to talk to the landowner, a nice gentleman who was mowing part of the field. We chatted a bit -- he is a rider -- and I asked if he would let me cross his field. He said yes. (Note to self: the man needs some cookies.) So off we went to gently canter across that field and up the road for a bit then downhill to where there is a class IV road. 

This is a road that is on the town books but that has not been maintained -- at least, not by the town. There is a footpath along from the property at the intersection of Roscoe Road and Rotax Road (the property that all of us horse lovers look at with envy because it has so many beautiful jumps) to another property that sits in the middle of many wide fields and at the border of some woods. We were following a tree line and later I realized that we were on the wrong side of that tree line. Too much bog. But Rocket was wise 

Just as we came down out of these large fields we saw two riders on tall, elegant mounts. They stopped and we slowly walked forward to join them. They stopped well back from where we would intersect and after a few minutes of chatting, I found out why. They were a mother and daughter pair. The daughter, a teenager, and very sweet, was riding what she called "a special horse," an Irish thoroughbred. And then she said that she was paraplegic. I asked how long she had been paraplegic and she said for one year. Her goal, she went on to explain, is to participate in the Paralympics in 2012. I looked at her tack and that her mount, a gentle and quiet horse, tal but sturdy. She was using a Western saddle with a minimum of straps. Just a saddle, and a saddle blanket. Apparently she was balancing on her horse. We exchanged anecdotes about trails and they told me that I could cross their fields as long as I stated the edges. They said most people were pretty good about that. Then we went our separate ways, Rocket a little bit resistant to leave some company.

We rode out along a dirt road and ended up on a paved road. There we turned left, but we should have turned right. We were faced with an enormous bog with a single hill rising steeply out of it. Impassable. We followed the road until we got to a driveway going to the right. The driveway was close to the power line, so we followed it and then went up a hillside through very thick woods and came out the other side, where, it seemed in the middle of nowhere, someone said with surprise "Hello!"

It was a lovely woman named Marty who was fixing her fence. She has a few horses herself. She said she had heard that I was rescuing horses. We compared notes on our various riding experiences and she wondered how I had gotten there. I tried to explain to her the route that I took. She gave Rocket some water, which he refused. And on we went, this time along the side of (I think) Monkton Road for several miles. We tried to cut across country in a couple of places but it was not possible. In some places it was too boggy, in some places our way was blocked by fences. Eventually we just decided to stick with the road and travel south.

After a few canters along the roadside (Rocket was excellent at finding good footing right at the edge of the road) we were at a dirt road that took a more direct route south 

We walked and trotted along this dirt road until we came to a farm where there were some trails that I could see from the road. Two people were playing with some horses in the back. We rode in their farm road and stopped to chat.

It was a man who walked over to talk to me and a woman who stayed back far away with the horses. The man told me that there were no trails that didn't go through their fields, and he didn't think that I would be able to get through. I thanked him and we went off along the dirt road. We went through some beautiful woods where somebody has been tossing trash out their car window as they went home and it looks like they had a pretty fixed habit. A lot of litter spoiled the look of the woods from the dirt road. Otherwise, that dirt road was one of the most idyllic parts of the ride. I got off and walked next to Rocket for a while. We came out of the woods and there was a horse farm on the right. A man was working at his wood pile. I walked over and asked if he would mind if Rocket got some water. 

We went into the barn and found a bucket and a hose and I offered Rocket some water. Again, he refused it. The stalls in the barn were marked with the names of horses and their dams and sires. They looked like Morgan/paint crosses. I remembered that somebody had mentioned to me that there was a farmer around here who is breeding Morgan/paint crosses, but I'm not sure that that was the farm 

Anyway, I mounted again and we went off down the road. We passed a water wheel on the left that Rocket found rather scary. Then we went up and open hillside and I remembered that at the next road I was going to turn left and try to find some trails off that road over to Route 17. So we went left but as I looked at the terrain I saw a deep gully that we could not pass. So we turned back and went down to North Street and continued south. At the top of the next hill was a pear tree. I stopped and let Rocket figure out that there were pears there (he was riding with a hackamore so he had no bit in his mouth and could munch). His demeanor was like a kid who had gotten a surprise birthday present. I let him months and looked around. The views were spectacular from there -- green mountains in the distance with open fields in front. Field after field.

We continued south and at one point found a nice grassy space between a horse fence and the road and we cantered along at. At the end was the house of the people who owned the horse farm. They shouted out a greeting and we walked over to say hello. Their names were Francie and David. We chatted for quite some time about our horses and about the neighborhood and they brought me a cup of cider. Rocket enjoyed their tasty grass while we talked. They mentioned that there was going to be a fox hunt at their house the next day.

The wheels started turning in my head. What if I went to the fox hunt instead of riding home again the next day? I wasn't sure I would be able to make it work. We would need full English tack, and I would need proper attire, and we would need a ride home again in a trailer.

So we went on and it was only about 2 1/2 miles more until we got to the Equestry and the end of our ride.

There Rocket found fresh green (second cut) hay and a warm stall out of the wind. By that time the sun was beginning to go down and it was bitterly cold once we stopped moving. I took off his tack and brushed him and fussed over him while chatting with Heidi, who works in Kate's barn. After a little while Kate came out and it was delightful to meet her. She is charming and interesting and I look forward to getting to know her better and learning from her. She is a dressage coach for Middlebury College. We talked about where dressage and endurance meet, and about her husband's work (he is a state representative) and about how crazy things can be in the world of Family Court. Apparently, he has heard many stories. We talk about all of our horses and she introduced me to the horses in her barn. They favor Canadienne Chevals. We talked about how difficult it is to balance your time when you are running a barn. It is easy to run out of time to ride. We talked about the possibility of collaborating to our mutual benefit. We talked about New Haven and the people who live there.

I called Cordell and it seemed he was there almost instantly to pick me up. He and Kate chatted a little and then I got into his (nice warm) truck. Warm at last.

So that was the ride down. I'll write about the fox hunt next time I get some time. Time to work at my day job.