How The West Was Spun

Antelope Island Ride - April 2008

Friday morning, D and Sam, and me and Bhen trailered up to Antelope Island in the middle of the Great Salt Lake to get ready for our first endurance ride of the 2008 season.  My riding buddy, MJ, and her husband host the ride every year.  Antelope Island is a great place to ride.  Most of the trails are sandy (but not deep sand) with only scattered rocky sections.  Nothing is too technical and none of the climbs are too steep.

D had been tapped to take photos of all the riders.  (MJ gave those out as prizes for completing the 25-mile or 50-mile races, no matter what place you came in.)  Bhen and I got signed up for the 25-mile, which is technically a "limited distance" race and got vet-checked in.  Before each race, a staff vet will look over the horses, check their pulse, respirations, gut sounds, capillary refills and check for lameness and general soundness.  You are issued a card that you carry with you that has all the pre-race check information on it, and it gives the vets an initial standard to go by for your horse as you come thru all the checks during the race. 

MJ normally has a lot of people who are either on horses who are new to endurance, or who themselves are new to the sport, so she plots out a couple of extra pulse/respiration checks during the race course for the 25-milers to make sure no one is pushing their horse too hard.  The limited distance races are a little different than the 50-mile races.  There's a slightly different strategy to them.  While both races have a vet check at about the halfway point which has a mandatory hold time (meaning, you wait for - in this case an hour - after you have met pulse/respiratory criteria - 60 bpm pulse rate here - and feed and water your horse), the 25-milers also had two ride-by checks.  So, we would dismount at about the 8 and 18 mile points and have a pulse check.  If you had pulsed down to 60 bpm, you were allowed to mount up and ride off immediately.  Otherwise, you got a hold imposed, about 10 minutes, until your horse pulsed down to the 60 beats per minute.  This is important, because if you come into a check hard and fast, you'll likely lose time because you'll have minutes added on for the hold. 

My goals for Bhen and me were threefold:

A.  Ride our ride by ourselves.  No crew, no support horse, nuttin.  So we'd have to work on pacing and watching metabolics, and all of that alone.  You know....just to see if we could do it solo, after MJ had helped us at our last ride in the fall.
B.  Come into every pulse/respiratory rate check at or under criteria.  See above description about why this is good strategy.
C.  Come in within the top 10 riders.

The ride started off with a controlled start, meaning we had a sort of pace-car horse go out in front of our group for the first mile and a half.  There is bad footing with rocks and a steep decline down to the water coming out of base camp.  MJ doesn't want anyone trotting or going too fast here.  So, we dutifully all followed the rider out and when we got to the shoreline of the lake, it was a free-for-all.  I stopped Bhen and got off and let him graze while a buncha wild cowboy types went out at a full gallop.  I waited until they had gone out of sight, but before the slow group who were leading their horses downhill came up to us, and then remounted and set off. 

Bhen's no dummy tho. He knew there were a bunch of horses ahead of us and his job is to go GET THOSE HORSES!  The first seven miles - I kid you not - we were going along so fast all but one of the braids in his mane blew the ties out.  He's also got this "interesting" habit in that when he sees a horse ahead of him he will call out to it incessantly until we catch up, then pass the horse (politely - we always ask to be yielded the trail, please) and then he completely ignores the horse.  He doesn't mind being out by himself, but lord help the horse that's in front of him. You'll know he is coming. 

I was a little bit worried about the first check, since we had been going so fast, but we came in already under 60 bpm, Bhen had a drink at the trough, and we were off again.  We trotted along and made good time until we caught up with a couple of other folks that were riding, and then a HUGE bison grazing on the trail (who we all went wayyyyyy around at a slightly slower clip so as not to disturb him), and then continued down to the southern tip of the island where the old ranch is, and the halfway point/vet check.

There was a long steep hill climb up to the vet check, so I got off and walked up with Bhen.  When we reached the top, it wasn't very busy yet (the 50-milers hadn't started coming in by then), so we immediately had offers to check us in.  I wasn't sure Bhen had pulsed down - hell.... I was breathing pretty hard after the hill climb - but I told them to check him, and he was well under 60 already.  Because we came in sensibly, we actually beat 4 other riders out of the hour-long hold.  Four of the cowboys who had pushed their horses too hard had extra time tacked onto the hour because they couldn't get their horses pulse rates down.  See?  Wily like a fox.

On the way home, Bhen and I were pretty much all alone except for the wind (and there was a lot of that, with blowing sheets of dusty sand) and the few people we passed.  I didn't push him at all and he came into the next pulse check already down under pulse criteria, and actually in better shape at the 18-mile mark than he had been at the 7-mile mark.  (This is a very good thing.) We enjoyed the scenery and the beautiful spring day and trotted our way back along the shoreline before making the final turn up the initial hill into base camp.  We came into camp, had a quick drink and checked in with the vet.  Already below pulse criteria.  When the vet looked us over for his final full vet check, he asked if I had had any worries, which I didn't.  He said "You guys look like you could do another 25 miles today without issues." and told us to go jog off toward camp, and since he didn't see anything even worrying not to come back unless he whistled for us.

We were the only horse/rider team that came in within the top 10 that had no extra holds for pulse criteria!  Yay Bhen! 

So Bhen and I met all our goals for the race, rode smartly and sensibly I think, and had a blast. Can you tell?

All for now......

Training Season

Thanks, everyone, for your kind well-wishes about last Wednesday's new treatment.  The good news is that I'm seeing an improvement in things, so hopefully the next few loading doses of the new medication will really turn the corner for me.  The bad news is - very limited knitting time to be had during this venture.  I was fine during hour 1 of the IV drip, but by hour 2, I sat and stared at the walls and after I finally was able to go home (around hour 3), I went to bed for the rest of the day.  At least now I know if I take anything with me it needs to be A) very small - not sweater sized, B) extremely mindless - like stockinette something and C) knit-on-able in the first hour.  Next scheduled infusion center visit in a little over a week; I'll get all the kinks worked out eventually with this, I'm sure!

Luckily enough, while Wednesday was basically shot and I wasn't doing so well on Thursday either, by Friday, I had perked up enough to meet D for an after-work ride at Dimple Dell Park with Sam and Bhen.  We are kicking it into training mode these days, Bhen and I, in preparation for our first season's endurance race on April 19th.  And Sam.... well, Sam needs a lot of trail time to try to lose some of his pasture-pet weight and get back into condition.   

While Bhen's a little bit bigger than Diggs (although not by much), he is still a MUCH smaller horse than Sam is.  Here's proof:

Here's even more proof (and sorry for the sunlight rays.  I tried taking the pic from the other side and you couldn't even see Bhen.)

As you may imagine, Sam's stride with those long legs is....shall we say.... a bit more ground-covering than Bhen's?  D can have Sam at a nice trail walk pace, and Bhen will have to do a slow trot to keep up with the big guy.  Unfortunately, once Bhen's been asked to go at a trot, he's in race mode - which means he wants to do the big mileage-eating trot he's got.  Sam's not in good enough condition to sustain that for an entire ride yet (he'll get there though), so Bhen had to be content with staying slow enough that Sam could stay up with him.  It was a beautiful evening on Friday, so we enjoyed the ride together.

Saturday, we were up early as is our usual, and off to the arena to work with Jerry the trainer indoors.  Bhen and I worked on cantering - which he is much better at than I am, I am sad to say.  I have gotten very very spoiled with Diggs's ultra-smooth lope, which he can do for miles, and I'm having a lot more trouble adjusting to the bouncier canter that Bhen has.  We may just stick with an extended trot, because he can actually go faster at his extended trot than he can at the canter.  Easier on me too.

Sunday, we played a little trail Russian roulette, and even though the skies didn't look promising, we drove up to Antelope Island in the Great Salt Lake and took the boys back out for a short 8-mile loop to get Sam some more miles.  We were able to trot quite a bit of the flats on the way out, and Bhen's figured out he needs to go at a certain speed when I ask him to, and not his race speed.  The spitting drizzle that had greeted us in the parking lot cleared out pretty quickly and it actually warmed up to around 50 with sunshine and a light breeze.  Perfect!  (And also good timing, because it is snowing here this morning - Monday - again!).

Bhen and I are looking forward to the Antelope Island race in a couple of weeks!  And PS - if there is anyone local who wants to come out, the race runs on Saturday and Sunday out on Antelope Island on the 19th and 20th.  You can come out and just watch the horses come in across the finish line (always fun), or if you want to get a little more horse time and want to volunteer to help out (no horse experience really needed - they need timers and water-cup fillers and odd-job volunteers always), let me know and I can send you more information off-line.  It's supposed to be a beautiful, sunny 65-degree weekend!

All for now.....

Isn't It Ironic?

Doncha think?  (Everyone sing along now.....)  I little toooooo ironic.  Yeah, I really do think.  Hold this thought while I digress momentarily.....

Things are slowly returning back to normal around here.  (About damn time, too!)  Both D and I still look out and see a bay horse standing in the farthest stall of the barn and think "Hap??!?", but then the bay turns around and we can see the cute little white blaze on its nose and we both realize it's Bhen.  (Likely on the lookout for incoming Diggs, but nevertheless - not Hap.)

D and I had been worried about Hap this past year.  He wanted to take her out with us, do some camping, go to some races with me, but stuff like that really sent her into a tizzy sometimes and spending the night away from home, possibly not drinking enough water, especially in the warm summer months - that scenario had colic potential written all over it.  Of course, we worried too if we left her home and she didn't feel well, because although we have VERY kind and on-the-ball animal sitters, they aren't here 24/7 like I am, and if they missed her early warning signs, she might also be at a full-blown colic risk.  So we worried - worried about taking her with us, worried about leaving her at home.  D did a lot of thinking about his options and decided he wanted to keep her for what she excelled at - rough mountain trails and trail riding - and get a backup/second horse so he could come along to endurance rides with me.  And so, we had started looking.  The weekend before she got sick.

We had gone up to Idaho and found a very nice gelding, a Morab (that's an Arab and Morgan cross) who fit D's long legs nicely and who had pretty much done it all.  He had packed and camped in the mountains, did trail rides, cut cattle, jumped, and had even done some endurance.  He was out of shape as his owner has a 2-year-old daughter and hadn't ridden much since the little one arrived, but he was very gentle, had great ground-manners and was easy to ride when we took him to the arena after not having had so much as a saddle on in 7 months.

We drove home and slept on it, and thought about it some more, and Dave had decided he'd at least take the first step of getting the horse vet-checked for soundness - and then, as if she knew, Hap got sick.  (Classic Hap attitude:  "You sorry SOB, you looked at another horse.  I'll show you.... you.... you dumbass." )  So - yeah - ironic, isn't it? 

Sam the Wonder Horse (registered name something totally bizarre I can't even pronounce) passed his vet check with flying colors and I drove up to Idaho on Friday and picked him up. 

He came with my to my lesson on Saturday with Bhen and Jerry (heh) and while Jerry is really not partial to Morabs, he was suitably impressed with Sam.  So much so that he thinks he could do 3-day eventing without batting an eye once he's back in shape.  (No one should tell D what 3-day eventing is or he will probably want to do it, m'kay?)  Since Jerry signed off on him, we let the sellers know we'll keep him and he moved right in with my two boys.

It is a very good thing that Sam has wonderful manners and is a kind soul.  (You can see that in his eyes in the above picture, can't you?)  Because he is a big boy.  No... I mean BIG boy.  Here's a picture of him in his (double wide) stall next to Diggs.  Please note where Diggs butt is in relationship to Sam's.  And then look at where Diggs' feet are (his stall is elevated -it's the Napoleon stall - for short horses with bad attitudes).

Sam's a full 16.3 hands; Digger is 14.1... on a good day..... with new shoes on.... standing up really really straight.  When Sam stands up I can stand completely under his neck without his having to lift his head at all.  But he's a sweetheart.  He knows all kinds of tricks, like how to drop his head down so those of us who are vertically challenged can put a headstall or halter on.  AND, he's even smart enough to understand he has to drop it only a bit for D to reach, but a lot for me. 

He's carrying a bit of extra weight, but he has lovely bone structure and a nice set of hindquarters.  Cathy, this one's for you:

 

I think he and D are going to be a great match. 

All for now......

Today had better be better

Seriously.  If I was the kind of person to go postal, this week woulda pushed me there.  Several days ago perhaps.  Today absolutely HAS to be better.  HAS.....TO.

Let's recap, shall we?

Monday:  Not a horrendous day.  At least not for me.  D got to have a lot of uncomfortable dental work done, and I was concerned about him, but that was mangeable.

Tuesday:  D got home for dinner and we looked out and realized Hap was not feeling well.  Looked like her typical colicky symptoms, so we went and walked her and gave her some medications we use for these instances (she is a colicky-kinda gal) and by 7:00 p.m., she was better.  By 9:00, much better, and when I checked her at midnight, grouchy that I wasn't out there to feed her breakfast.  Whew!  Long, stressful day. 

Wednesday:  I went out to feed at 5:30 and Hap was down on the ground and in a lot of discomfort.  We paged the vet, got her on her feet finally and hauled her the 5 minutes down to our vet's office.  It was obvious when we got in there she was in a lot of discomfort, so Scott (our vet) gave her some muscle relaxants and pain medications, checked her hydration and ran some other tests, pronounced this a full-blown colic and said he'd need to keep her at the clinic so he could keep an eye on her and treat her over the course of the day.  He called to update us about every 2 hours, and as the day went on, it became more obvious that she wasn't getting any better, and was actually deteriorating.  So, by 8:30 when he called and D and I drove over to see her, it was pretty obvious that we needed to make the decision to have her euthanized, which we did.  This was a very very bad day.

Thursday:  We got up and were still mopey.  D was home in the morning as he is fighing off a sinus infection and still having jaw soreness from Monday's excitement.  Around lunchtime, I looked out and both Sydney and Rowan were gone.  G-O-N-E.  From inside a chainlink fence, where all the gates were still closed.  I then (with the help of some really good friends!) spent from about 1:30 until 7:00 driving around a 5-mile radius looking for the girls.  I had been out looking in the hills to the west of us, thinking they had gone out bird-stalking in the sagebrush, and ran home to check for messages.  Both the girls have collars with the house number on them, so I was hopeful.  YES!  A guy named Josh had found them down by the river, about 5 miles (and across a major 2-lane highway) from our house.   Oh... but... since I hadn't called him back within 5 minutes and he had "stuff to do", he just let them go.   (ETA:  Friday morning here.  I'm pretty sure Josh's ears are still buzzing from the level of noise and profanity that I unleashed into them when I called him back to "thank" him for his "help".)  Back out again I went for another hour or so, looking for them down at the river.  Ran back home to check messages, because as D said "I lost my horse this week, I don't think I could take losing my dog too.", and Hallelujah!  A nice (and much smarter than Josh) lady had found then chasing cats and had put them in her outdoor kennel and called the house. We finally got the girls home (muddy and bur-covered) around 8:00 last night and D and I collapsed around 9:30. 

In speaking with our neighbor across the street, apparently 3 times in the last 10 days, his yard gate has been opened.  They have a dog too, but he doesn't roam - just hangs out in the front yard or goes back to sleep in his dog house out back - even if the gate is open.  So we think perhaps that's how the girls got out.  And I would just like to mention that this "prankster" should hope that D gets to him first if we find out who it is, because I have a baseball bat with his name on it (and enough Sicilian heritage) that I would be happy to introduce him to.

Friday:  Today absolutely positive WILL be better.  HAS..... TO....... Doesn't it?

All for now......

Love, Digger

Dear Bhen:

Since you and I are now gonna be BFF pasture-mates for the summer, I wanted to share a few healthy rules about being my pasture-mate.  Ya know, when you first arrived here, I wasn't sure I was too crazy about a new addition, but since we've stood together through lots of snowstorms this winter, and played that fun game "bite my face" through the openings in the electric fence, I feel like you are probably an okay kinda guy.  So here are the "house rules".  If you follow them, trust me - you will be a much healthier horse.  Because if you don't..... I'll kill you.

Rule 1:  This is really important. DO NOT under any circumstances look at my mommy.  Even if you kind of are wandering by her to go do something else, do NOT, I repeat, NOT, look at her, make eye contact with her, even sort of glance towards her.  Not even through a fence line.  I will kill you.

Rule 2:  Do not EVER look at my food.  EVER.  Don't even pretend you don't want it, because I know you do.  Forget trying to "share".  It is all mine, or at least what my mommy lets me have.  Don't look at HER food either.  I will kill you.

Rule 3:  Do not try to make contact with the horses next door.  You may think they've got your back, or will try to help you by herding up.  They won't.  And if you try to talk to them, especially the good looking girl types...... I will kill you.

Rule 4:  Do not try to go into MY barn.  Yes, yes... I know the food (see rule 2) and water are in there.  Too bad.  All of that stuff is mine anyhow, and besides, if it starts to rain or snow, or if the wind blows, or it's dusty out, I will be inside the barn because I don't like to get wet or have my hair blown into my eyes.  If you try to go into the barn, sorry ol' pal, I will have to kill you then too.

Rule 5:  Do not try to roll in my dirt.  It is all mine, and while I am completely fastidious about my appearance (see rule 4), I pick who rolls and when, after my mommy tells me it's okay.  Don't touch the dirt.  Got it?  Or else.... well.... I'll kill you.

Rule 6:  Now this is a tricky one.  You know the blonde chick that comes out to feed me?  Yeah, well.  I saw her first.  And a lot of times she has treats for me.  ME - not you.  ME.  If you try to get close to her to see if she has any goodies, or get scratches behind your ears, or kisses on your nose - Fuggedaboutit - she is mine.  (Except if she wants to take me out and get sweaty.  I'm really fine staying here in MY barn, with MY food and MY mommy and having a nap.  The sweating is your department.  You go.  I'll stand behind you when she has the halter.  Just don't check her pockets for treats.  If you do, I would have to kill you.)

Just follow these simple rules, and I know we will get along famously, Bhen.

Love,

Digger

B is for....

I'm not doing the 2008 ABC-along redux, but I couldn't resist some B pictures to kick off my weekend.

First up, Buttons, which came in the mail yesterday, from a great online store I found, The Button Shoppe.  Nice selection, and great service.  These were plain enough not to totally detract from the simplicity of the sweater, but just interesting enough to appeal to my inner funk.

And I'd be remiss if I didn't post a couple of pictures of Bhen, looking like a great big Blueberry in his winter coat.

Sally (who is a very good egg) brought me down the coat Bhen's mom, Jameeta, had won as senior PNCA champion in 1987.  Diggs and Hap have extremely warm, thick coats, but poor Bhen just stands outside and shivers when it's in the teens at night, even with his winter hair growth.  (Must be all those desert horse genetics.)  Anyway, I find he is in a much happier frame of mind if I put his coat on at night.  He's very respectful and good with it - doesn't chew or rub it - and I sleep better at night, knowing he's all snuggly outside.  With temps in the mid 40s (F) during the day, tho, I take it off so he can roll and soak up some sun for his morning nap-time.

Have a great weekend everyone!

All for now.....

Horsin' Around

Saturday was all horses, all the time! I had missed riding with my boys.

Saturday a.m., MJ picked Bhen and me (and D), and Nicole up in her big trailer and we went down to the indoor arena just south of us for a lesson with her friend, Jerry, who trains Arabians.  I had been along for the ride, so to speak, on a couple of MJ's lessons with Jerry.  She's fine tuning/rehabbing her husband's race horse.  His real name is something majestic-sounding that has to do with fire or flames, but she thinks he's kind of a dork and calls him (among names I can share here) just plain ol' "Sparky".  She says until he gets his head screwed on straight, he doesn't warrant any high-faluting names.  Fair enough.   

D was kind enough to drag along his camera to get some pictures.  Here's Bhen and me (and MJ with her back to the camera) watching Jerry work some kinks out of Sparky, who was being a dork for a while.  (click photos for bigger)

You can see were were all bundled up, even though were inside.  I had on long underwear, plus heavy leggings, plus a turtleneck and a fleece pullover and a vest, AND my angora scarf.  Jerry helped me get some little things tweaked on Bhen's tack and headstall, and then we did some trotting.

Jerry helped me with some pointers on collection and then we trotted some more.  And then a bit more. (We overstayed our hour by half again as much, but we had the place to ourselves.)

My nose ran almost the entire time, and Bhen didn't like the snow that was melting and sliding off the roof (we had a couple of minor rodeos with that, but that's okay - he's used to be outside and I'm sure he'll get used to it), but we had a blast.  We are going back again next Saturday for another go with Jerry.  I enjoyed working with him immensely.

Later on Saturday afternoon, after a quick lunch, D and I and our friend John took the trotters out for a ride in the snow at the park.  We didn't do much but a nice fast trail walk and a little bit of gaiting.  The footing wasn't great (everything is still snow-covered), and we didn't want to get the crew too sweaty before they had to go stand outside at home in the wind all night.  Both Diggs and Hap did great.  D and John rode along behind me and Diggs, and they had a chance to catch up and chat.  We had beautiful bright blue skies and sunshine, and I think the horses (although they probably wouldn't admit it) enjoyed going out for a bit as much as we did.

All for now......

Riding On

Y'all know Digger, aka Diggs, aka Dorkboy, aka My Little Man, is my #1, right?  I absolutely adore that horse, probably more than I should sometimes, but really.... he IS a charmer.   He and I have been getting in a lot of ride/training time together this fall and we've been having a blast.  He's been working extremely hard and you should see the muscles he's put on (even under his winter coat).  The sad state of affairs for him, however, is no matter how conditioned he is, he has a Fox Trotter metabolism.  Which means, he can be in great shape, but he still runs a resting pulse rate in the low to mid 40s.  Now, most endurance rides have a parameter for pulse rates of 60 to 65 (depending on the length of the ride) before the vets will allow the horses to continue.  So, you can imagine that dropping a pulse rate is a whole lot easier when your resting pulse rate is.... say....... 32.... or 28....instead of ..... say....... 40 or 45.

I had known from the beginning that Diggs would not be the best-suited horse for endurance, but that was okay - and IS okay - he needs a job and it will not hurt him one bit to be an uber conditioned hard-body either. However, I really want to ride more than 25s, and probably more than 50s, and that's gonna be hard for him to do.  So, I began a search for an Arabian, whose body physiology lends itself so well to endurance (it's what they were bred for in a lot of cases, originally), who could get me through 50s without really having to worry about getting pulsed down and meeting vet criteria.

Now, I'm not sure if y'all are aware, but there is kind of a universal mental image of the Arabian breed as being hot-headed, kind of out of control, fiery, high-spirited - that sort of thing.  So, I set off to find a horse that could handle the physical aspects of racing, but I did NOT want some whacked-out wild horse to sit on and be potentially stupid and dangerous for 50 miles either.  Not exactly the easiest blend is it?  Heart and endurance to go the distance, but a calm, gentle nature.

I totally hit the jackpot.  Totally.

Enter Bhen (Bhenkaleb is his full registered name).  He's a 10-year-old, black bay gelding.  He's really only just a bit bigger than Diggs.  His current owner, Sally, says 14.2 hands, but I think he's a little taller than that - maybe not much, but a bit. Bhen's an old pro.  He already knows how to trailer long distances, camp out overnight, eat his hay out of a big mesh bag, eat and drink on the trail and take care of himself.  He's got great big strong feet (he even goes without shoes!), and best of all, a great, big strong brain attached to his Arab pulse and respirations.

Bhen's got over 800 competition miles on him.  He's done 25s, 30s, 50s and 60s.  He has the whole hang-out-at-the-trailer thing down.  And doesn't mind other horses coming and going.  (Sally likes yellow, can ya tell?)

And Bhen's a thinker.  He thinks about where to put his feet in a sensible way.  Dogs blasting out of the sagebrush, old car parts, trail boogie-monsters don't really phase him much.  He looks at them (you can't be too careful, you know), but he just keeps his feet going on down the road.  And did I mention not much phases him?

Yeah.  That's Bhen in the front.  Sally's the one dressed as a pink flamingo.  (She hosts the Pink Flamingo Classic ride in Idaho every year).  It takes a certain calm disposition to blithely go out to ride while your human partner is dressed as a flamingo. (Maybe a certain amount of personal self-esteem too, but I'll have to ask Bhen about that. I feel sure he and this other horse in the picture spent the whole ride going "Oh geez!  What is next with these crazy gals?")

So now, not only do I have my bestest trail-horse buddy, Digger, he's also got a new friend coming to live with us at the end of the month who can show him some camping-out ropes, and help me figure out how the heck to stay on my horse for 50 miles and come into the finish like a trooper.

And Sally.....you may wish to check the comments after this entry posts.  I have a feeling you'll see a lot of nice things said about your boy, and there's no WAY my kind blog readers won't be keeping an eye on him with you, so you know he's gonna be in good hands.

All for now......

Horsing Around

Several years ago, when D and I got our horses, Cathy, who is an enabler of the best kind, casually mentioned how...now that we had some horses.....maybe I would think about doing endurance racing with Diggs when he was old enough and trained up.  Pshaw, said I.  Never.

So then, a few months later, Cathy sends me a gift box "for Digger" with a great wool saddle blanket and a pair of split reins that she used when SHE used to ride and train for endurance.  And tucked under all of that was a stack of magazine clippings and notes about endurance training.  You know....because she didn't have horses anymore and what would she do with them, but it seemed wasteful to just throw them away.  But.....no pressure - just for reading interest.  You know........ Pshaw again, said I. Never EVER.

So THEN, she starts casually sending me photos of her horses and her trailer, and places she rode endurance rides, and when I finally had the chance to visit her, "my room" had ribbons and maps and pictures from her endurance rides on the walls.  And of course we talked horses for 2 days while I was there (and some fiber stuff for good measure).

I ask you......How is a person supposed to resist this kind of subliminal brain-washing?  I apparently am not immune, because Gee!  I had a brilliant idea - I'm going to try Diggs at endurance racing.  (I cannot imagine where this came from!).  Anyway, the boy is now old enough and trail saavy enough, and we have started to put some training miles on him for our first ride together down in Moab (land of the red rocks) the first weekend in November.

You can read some great basic info about endurance racing at the national organization's website and more about this specific ride here.  Diggs and I are going to start small and do the 25-mile ride, rather than the 50-miler (there are also 100-milers, although not at this particular race).  These are timed events (you must complete the 25 miles in 6 hours or less, including a 1-hour vet check/rest break) but you also have to meet certain criteria such as pulse rate/respiratory rate parameters AND have your horse be judged "fit to continue" by the vets who keep a close eye on all the horses to be sure they aren't being overly taxed by the race itself.  It's also a great time to go and see some beautiful country and ride your horse all day, so what could be better? 

So, we'll see how it goes and if Diggs enjoys himself - which is really an important part of the whole thing if you are going to be spending that much time with your horse - and how he does with the vet checks.  Wish us luck!

PS - Cathy ALSO sent Diggs a gift for my birthday (yes, this is horse-person logic) this year, which she made for him.  It's a horse "leash", 2 mobius'es linked together, knit and then felted.  And of course, she added da bling (silver and purple beads) because the boy is nuttin if not fashionable.  Cute, eh?

All for now......

It's a Boy!

Edit:  Finally decided on the baby's barn name, which will be Cisco, although we haven't decided on the full registered name; we are still working on that.   D also decided Digger needs a new little brother, so when Cisco is old enough, he'll come and live with us and (hopefully) pester the hell outta Dorkboy.

We've been awaiting news of a new arrival over at Pam and John's place.  John's riding buddy, Charley, was due around the 10th of June, and she had a day last week where we thought she might be in labor, but apparently just spent the day shifting the baby around into position.  That Charley would make a great poker player - she really doesn't show many signs (other than the obvious huge bump) and while Pam has been dutifully checking on her every hour or so at night, it really was a crap shoot. 

Sometime in the wee small hours of the morning today, Charley had a colt - who is doing just fine, and got a clean bill of health from the vet. He's still a little wobbly, but he's also a few days early, and they expect him to have Charley chasing after him in the next couple of days.  His dad is one of Pam's boarders - a really really nice stallion named Sachemo - who is black, with 4 white feet and a small white blaze.  Sach is one of the least stallion-y stallions I've met.  He's actually pretty mellow.

(Please excuse the listing in the picture - I was trying to take it with my arm stuck through the gate so I didn't disturb Sach).

The proud father:

Charley and the baby:

A closer-up shot:

We aren't quite sure what color this little fellow will wind up being.  He does have 1 white foot - you can see it there on his right back foot - but otherwise, he's all one solid color.  He almost has a silvery-gray appearance, like a smoky black, but he also might have grullo markings.  He's got some very faint zebra-like stripes on his back legs and a slightly darker stripe along his spine, but we'll have to see about that as he grows into his adult coloration.

Either way, he's a cutie!

All for now.....

(PS - extra special thanks to Charley for hurrying up and having this baby before we left for Montana AND for providing me blog fodder with pictures that don't include Pam's broken nose and 12 stitches from a training accident on Friday night.)