Ridecamp: [RC] The Further Adventures of Braveheart and Chickenshit

Just for you, Lynne!

Well, in case there are some of you out there that don't know this,
Braveheart's Divine Miss Em ... aka the Jeep, has been sidelined.  She
may or may not be retooled like my Cadillac for freeway driving only. 
Only time off will tell.  This is just what Braveheart needed as an
excuse to give serious attention to Q-Bert's transition into endurance
riding.  The Jeep is not happy with the change in status, but as the
muscles soften and the paunch develops she'll change her mind and not
give two hoots in Hell when they leave the barn.  Until then, however,
she bellows herself hoarse (I'm so witty I tickle myself).

So, the Cadillac and I have been doing the babysitting routine with
Q-Bert and Braveheart to introduce him to the trails.  Granted at this
point in time we are not doing anything remotely like a training ride,
but since Q will be the new endurance machine I thought you all might
like a little taste of how his progress is going.

For those of you that don't remember anything about us, let me give you a
brief bio.  The Cadillac used to be a hard driving Lincoln Navigator ...
you know, the kind of 4-wheel mega-SUV that is great on mountain roads
when you're going to Mammoth Mt to go skiing, but you wouldn't take it
off-roading to save your soul (read that as "she ain't NO mountain
goat").  Health issues forced retirement and she has morphed into a
Cadillac.  I used to "go where no man has gone before" when it comes to
horseback riding.  Age has chickened me up.  My life flashes before my
eyes when anything but the most pristine trails are encountered. 
Braveheart is ... well, Braveheart.  The name speaks for itself.  She's
the RM for the Norco Riverdance Ride.  We live in Horsetown USA, Norco,
California.  One last sentence before I begin my story ... to live in
Norco means to learn to deal with water.

Speaking of water.  Q-Bert got his first dipping last weekend with a
different babysitter.  Braveheart had to resort to getting off the beast
and leading him into the river first, but every crossing after that he
just waltzed right in.  That was last weekend!  This is now.  Q stood in
the round pen staring at Braveheart not in the least bit interested in
letting loose with some bucks and farts before we left the barn. 
Braveheart gave him his chance, but since he didn't take advantage of her
generosity, she brought him out and got on.  The Cadillac penned her ears
when they approached as if to say, "Don't give me any crap today, Boy!" 
We turned and headed out the gate.  Q's youthful exuberance had him
walking out full of purpose and determination.  The Cadillac requires a
good 20 minutes of SLOW walking to lubricate the joints and warm the
muscles.  I reminisced with my 4 legged friend about the days when she
would stride out from the barn with the same enthusiasm, she heaved a
sigh, groaned, passed a little gas, tripped and plodded after her young
charge.  

There's Q, the gallant little tank, marching ahead, gathering in as much
information as his pointy, little head will allow.  Dogs ambushing from
the side skitter him sideways, but nothing that really upsets him.  He
comes back on track with his tail up tossing a head at the dogs with a,
"Is that the best you can do?" look in his eyes.  The Cadillac just plods
on behind.

We cross the main street through town (amazing how the street is devoid
of cars on Sunday morning) and continue our journey to the riverbed.  Q
is taking everything in.  A couch by the side of the road, a trashcan,
another dog, a gardener, a car comes whizzing by - hmmm... interesting,
boring, yawn - more trashcans, another car, a motorcycle, A PAPER BAG!!!!
 OH MY GOD!!!!  Backpedel in motion!  Wake UP!!!  The Cadillac just keeps
plodding on ... a look of disgust as we walk by Q and the Carl's Jr bag
lying in the trail.  We were only walking toward that bag forever! 
Q-Bert, or should I refer to him as Ditzo at this point, was so busy
looking at everything else he didn't see the bag until he was literally
right in front of it about to land a foot on it.  The little boy had a
sheepish look to him as he overtook us, placing him once again in the
coveted First position.

We stopped at another set of furniture by the trail, the Cadillac found
the smells too enticing to ignore.  While her nose was buried in the seat
of the chair for what seemed like an eternity, Q finally decided it
wasn't going to eat him and he touched his nose to it.  Time to go ... Q
resumes his "march to the sea", the Cadillac plods along behind, most
dejected for having been told to leave her beloved smells.

Enter the riverbed.  Heads come up, tails rise and feet quicken their
pace.  Q trots for awhile, the Caddie has to canter to keep up.  We stick
to the main trail, saving the trees and arundo caves for the return trip.
 We're off to the freeway to take Q for his first trip under all the
cars.  The kids have built a paintball area under the freeway, replete
with foxholes and boards for hiding behind.  The Caddie doesn't
particularly enjoy the area, but today she doesn't so much as give a
snort while passing through.  Q just drank in all the new information,
but didn't seemed fazed by any of it.  Out from under the freeway and
there in front of us is a puddle of water, and I truly mean a puddle of
water.  After a quick study of the H2O the Caddie walked through.  Three
strides and out.  Q would have none of it.  He stuck his head down like
he thought he was supposed to drink it.  Touched his nose to it and
backed up.  No way, no how, was he going to cross.  We patiently waited
while Braveheart tried to coax Ditzo into the water.  Nothing doing.  So,
I had the Caddie move off a little down the trail.  Maybe if Q thought he
was going to be left behind he'd take the plunge.  Nope!  Braveheart
said, "Keep going."  So we did.  We turned around again to see what was
happening.  There was Q, still firmly planted on the other side of the
puddle, watching the Caddie intently.  Then it happened ... he whinnied. 
That was the Caddie's undoing!  I have to get back to MY BABY!!  Since I
wouldn't let her turn around, she took it upon herself to back up, in
full throttle, towards her awaiting babe.  It was quite humorous.  Upon
our return to the puddle my only remarks to Braveheart were, "And you
wonder how she could back her ass off a cliff!"  I made her stand in the
water in front of Q so they could touch noses.  No good.  I had her
standing next to him poised to go back in.  Braveheart gave him a little
spur this time.  Q's reaction ... bring up a hind leg and smack it around
and then turn and bite Braveheart on the toe.  Having had my toe in the
jaws of the Caddie on numerous occasions I chose not to say anything. 
Back across the puddle we went, and still Q did not follow.  So,
Braveheart got off.  She stepped across the puddle on a narrow dry strip
tugging Q across behind her.  Three guesses what he did.  1- he leaped. 
2 - he leaped.  3 - he leaped.  He leaped?  Good guess!  Braveheart turns
around and goes back across the puddle.  This time Q was watching where
she put her feet and followed exactly where she did.  Still those hooves
never touched the water!  Amazing, but true!  Third times the charm, back
across the puddle they came, and there was absolutely no way he was going
to put a foot in that water.  So, Braveheart stayed on the ground and
walked through the little trickle of runoff water that was there, and Q
dutifully followed behind, and to the left, on dry ground!  I snuck the
Caddie over to crowd him a little and that did the trick.  He stepped
into the water without a by-your-leave.  One more nasty green puddle,
that we all skirted through the mud, and Braveheart mounted.  It was time
to head back.  Q wasn't going anywhere First.  The Caddie led off,
showing the little Ditzo how REAL horses do mud.  We surged into a trot
and as the first puddle neared I thought maybe if we kept the forward
momentum and didn't give him time to think about it he'd just go through.
 It worked, sort of.  I glanced back just in time to catch Q looking as
though he was clearing a 4 foot oxer, and Braveheart looking as though
she was clearing a 5 footer!  It was spectacular!  One of those, Damn,
where's a camera when you need it, type of moments.  There was Q, in an
absolutely spectacular leap, in perfect form.  We are talking picture
perfect form.  And there was Braveheart, perfectly centered, not a hair
out of place, about a foot and a half above him!!!  When they came down
it was just all too much for Q and he just had to do a few more bucks. 
As they came by us, the Caddie joined in and rounded her back for a good
leap as well.  We probably would have broken into a little canter, but
Braveheart lost her stirrup and we had to bring the circus to a halt.  

As far as the Caddie was concerned it was now time to put a little speed
into the ride.  Her endurance days are over, but she still likes to break
up the monotony of our schleps once in awhile, and this was one of those
times.  While she doesn't have the speed of Q, for the moment she can
maintain the trot/canter for as long as he  can.  Into the trees we went.
 The Caddie pushing Q from behind (figuratively, not literally) into a
trot.

Q is such a joy to watch.  At this stage in his development he is still a
tank.  His body hasn't leaned out the way endurance horses do.  He'll
eventually turn white, just like the Jeep, but right now he's a beautiful
dapple gray.  His dressage training is rounding him out, putting him in
an elegant frame that is pure poetry.  But it is his mind that is so
incredible to watch.  As he matures, he will be rock solid.  We are all
familiar with the Arab mind, and their ability to totally lose what
little they have, but this boy is wired different.  His brain farts are
totally from youthful inexperience.  The moments flash by so quickly you
barely realize he's been "in another world".  When he comes back to
reality the look in his eyes tells you he's learned something and that
he'll never forget, and most importantly, that he'll try not to let it
happen again.  Keep your eyes on this fellows progress.

As we were gliding through the trees we came to an opening into the
river, and I asked for a few moments to see if the Caddie would like a
drink.  A flattened out cardboard box right next to the water was enough
to send her into snorts and a possible refusal, but I threatened to smack
her, so she walked into the river.  She began to drink after a few
seconds of looky-looing, and we turned back to see if Q and Braveheart
were going to join us.

I felt the need to let Braveheart know that her darling Q was snacking on
Taffy's freshly laid poop, and that perhaps she should see if he'd come
into the river.  Braveheart asked Q to step forward, so he did, with his
front feet.  She asked again, and he stepped again.  With his front feet.
 The third step forward practically had his elbows in the sand, but by
golly, those hind feet weren't going anywhere near that river!  I swear
Braveheart's stirrups were only about 18 inches from the ground!  And
those hind quarters of his were like cement!  The horse is a rubberband! 
And henceforth, his new name.  Braveheart decided today was not the day
for anymore water trips, so we climbed back onto terra firma and headed
for home.

The Rubberband and the Cadillac were making good time through the trees,
but at 16.2 the Caddie can't go racing through the arundo, at least not
with me on her back!  We had to slow down through the tunnels, but
Braveheart didn't quite understand the urgency of my request until she
heard me yell OW! a couple of times.  A banged head, and near neck
piercing by the sharp cane (I look like I've been mauled by the bunnies
that inhabit the place) finally got her attention and she slowed down a
bit.  When we were able to open up the speed a little the Rubberband was
having a great time leading the way, but he had a little trouble staying
on course.  It was great fun to watch him trot off the trail into the
trees when he couldn't turn sharp enough to stay on track.  The look on
his face when his body was going one way and his head would turn and see
the trail going off in another was priceless.  He never broke stride,
just turned and kept going.  I would keep the Caddie off his ass when we
were at speed, but whenever we slowed to a walk I would let her hang on
his ass.  I was very pleased to see that he didn't tuck his tail, no
swishing, no kicking, no ass dipping and surging ahead, he wasn't
intimidated by her hot breath over his croup, or her nose in his butt, he
just kept his mind on his business.  He made one quick stop, that had the
Caddie running into him, and it didn't faze him!  The next time he did
that the Caddie was just as quick on her toes and stopped too.  Finally,
the Rubberband took the wrong fork and the Caddie wasn't going to follow.
 She was now in the lead and was going to show him a trick or two -
namely, the way out!  The Caddie started cantering with the determination
to continue her speed come Hell or high water (read that as I had a real
tight rein and it wasn't doing squat to slow her pace).  With the coveted
First position no longer in his possession the Rubberband threw his first
temper tantrum.  Bucking and crow hopping is fine on the main trail, but
not back in the trees. With a great deal of head shaking, and grunting
the Caddie relented and slowed to a mild trot, and finally to a walk.  

We came up out of the riverbed at a nice trot, settled into a good "cool
out before we get home walk", and cruised benignly back to the barn.  We
were greeted by the Jeep hollering her head off, but an opened gate to
forage for green grass quieted the mare and that made up for being left
behind.

Now, if you don't believe my story is true, go ask that blind man, he saw
it too!

Until next time, Chickenshit     

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