cold afternoon ride....

[Lucy Chaplin Trumbull <elsie@calweb.com>]

I enjoyed Louise's story of her evening ride on Bo the other night. 
Strangely, it coincided with a ride that Provo and I took, the same 
day... here's *our* take on it... <grin>

Louise D Burton wrote:
> I don't know how cold it is..maybe 8..wind chill way below zero.

Er... it was about 40oF... pretty cold for around here, though.
I wore two wooly scarves, but my head got too hot.

> It is too cold to keep my eyes open, so I ride along, head down, eyes closed,
> periodically opening them to keep my eyelashes from freezing together.

Nice and sunny, though... a tad chilly in the shade.

> I can feel him change his pace to avoid the ice in the trail.

I feel Provo tripping over his own feet, trying to gawp at the lake,
while walking through some boulders...

> We walk along and my mind wanders...all the races we have done...

I think back to the singular 50 we have done and how it took
him ten miles to settle down and 20 to really get the idea...

> Bo (Fa Al Badi+/) continues to walk along, never straying from
> course.  I think he will walk forever and wonder just where he would go.
> Twice I try to turn him for home, and both times he refuses, pulling on the
> reins to walk some more.
> ...
> After 3 miles, I turn Bo for home.  Reluctantly, he complies. 

At mile 4, Provo stops dead and I gulp. Looking around, we are in
prime "mountain lion country a la Disney films". Lots of big boulders 
above us for mountain lions to laze on, and watch us interestedly as
we pass by below. Why did Provo stop dead? What did he sense?

Gulp.

He turns his head and looks at me as if to say "I'm fed up. This is 
stupid. Out here on our own. No buddies. No fun galloping along.
It's cold. I want my supper..."

I get off and take him down to the lakeside and let him graze for 
15 minutes and then we turn for home.

On the way home, I'm riding a different horse. Zoom, he goes.

I let him trot out, until a bicycle comes over the hill, and
he responds by leaping into the bushes and jumping about (bear
in mind we train with Patrick on the mountain bike - bikes
aren't exactly scarey things for Provo).

We settle (yeah, right <smirk>) back into a walk (<mutter, mutter,
rotten horse, mutter>) and after another mile, I let him trot
again, we manage about 200 yrds, before he puts in a bucking fit.

("Yay, Mum, I feel great, see how high I can buck, see how light
and leapy I am! Coo, we could ride forever (so long as it's back
towards the trailer and home, as quick as we can)...")

"ROTTEN HORSE. STOP THAT!!!! &*^%!!!! Right. Turn around. We're
going back the way we came until you can walk nicely again..."

Provo (sulky faced): "mutter, mutter, mutter, mutter..."

>  I guess that it is the 100s that really secure that bond.  In both of
> these instances I had to relinquish control completely and trust my horse.

I guess continuing to ride the horse on long hills and long
trails, and *not* giving him the winter off will allow me
to kind of relinquish control over him - well, at least
ride on a nice loose rein.

> Take some time out this holiday to escape with your favorite four legged
> friend.

We did, and it was great (except for the bucking fit, and
getting lost in the woods on another day). He's a good pony,
really he is. He just needs to get out more...

And so much for wanting to get in some nice long rides to prep 
me for the last day of DVE. We only rode about 8 miles, and 
boy was I creaky. I'm going to be dying quietly and popping 
pain killers on Thursday...

-- 
**************************************************************
Lucy Chaplin Trumbull - elsie@calweb.com
Repotted english person in Sacramento, CA 
http://www.calweb.com/~elsie

with Mouse and Provo
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