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.
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