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My husband Mike (on Major) and I (on Rocket) went out for a training ride yesterday. The weather in northern WV was to good to pass up - mid 70's, breezy, 40% humidity! Mike was getting tired of our same old loop, so he wanted to do some bush whacking to see where some unexplored old paths might lead.
About the time we're 5 miles or so from home, here come two of our farming neighbors down this back country road, breaking 4 young Percherons to their hitch. Here comes two teams of two, pulling huge farm wagons with the metal rims on the wheels rattling, bells and harness jingling! Rocket has seen this before (LOOK, snort, and we're ok), but Major has NEVER seen monsters like this chasing such huge horses. Yikes! He tries to spin, drops a shoulder, bucks, flies backwards... Anything to get away from these things, with or without Mike. Our neighbors stop to watch the horse who thinks he belongs in a reining class. After about 15 minutes of conversation with the neighbors, Major reluctantly allows them past - from about 20 feet away. Nope! Those monsters aren't going to catch HIM!
As we get into the woods, we start to follow <old> tracks in the woods - old enough that 10 diameter trees have grown up in them. After a couple of dead ends with me & Rocket leading, Mike and Major take over.
Major is a 17 yo gelding who has "been there & done that" (except for monsters chasing Percherons), and he is a "trail finder extrodinaire". He managed to find vestiges of this old path for nearly two miles, down one ridge line, across the valley and up to the next ridge's top. Rocket & I would have given up long ago and said it had dead-ended. Just as we near the top of the last ridge line, something short and broad moves on the other side of the fence from us. Arkansas Razorback Hogs - about a dozen of them on 10 acres. Since they had room to roam, they didn't smell. No forewarning for poor old Rocket.
Rocket suddenly went stock still - his legs turned to posts. He stretched out his neck, snorted, and started trembling all over. I could feel his heart pounding through his side. HRM went up to 230. I could see options ticking over in his head - Run forward & join Major? Flee in panic? Drop from sheer terror? With a little urging he crept past the killer pig. Have you ever seen a horse tippy toe to avoid notice?
I was actually quite proud of him. No bolting head first into a tree. No breaking a leg fleeing over rough, loose rock. No spinning or bucking. Now I have to wonder if he's really an Arab - any self-respecting Arab should have at least shied! :-)
Major & Mike found the exit to this trail - about 150 feet from the main entrance to our farm. I had never even dreamed that this trail existed. I suspect that I'll spend a couple of weekends clearing these paths, making a wide berth around Mr. Pig and his fellows. What a way to get the heart rate up during training, though!
Linda Flemmer
Blue Wolf Ranch
Home to 3 deer and 6 turkeys in the pasture this morning!
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