Epic Weekend Recap

This weekend was a sort-of-accidental blog meetup. Margaret has been planning a return trip since her last visit in 2011. Liz from In Omnia Pratus and I have been half-planning a get together since we went raptor banding in November. It just so happened that both girls could make it out for an overlapping visit over the extended Memorial Day weekend. After checking with all parties to make sure three wouldn't be a crowd, we unanimously decided 'the more the merrier'. It turned out to be one of the best weekends I've had in a long, long time.

Thursday was an insane day at the clinic with nearly 40 surgeries. I was originally supposed to have a lesson at 4:30pm, and Liz and I were trying to figure out a way to schedule her arrival between the two. It just so happened that she planned her ~7 hour drive just right and was on my street at the exact same moment I was. I spotted her SUV in the gravel side road across from the house and had just enough time to wonder what it was doing there before I realized it had West Virginia plates.

The skies opened up just as we got out of our cars, but it was so hot out that I really didn't care. The weather pretty much refused to cooperate with us all weekend, but we made it work anyway.

Herbie tries to make nice to Kenai.

At long last, Herbie got to meet her internet boyfriend, Kenai. She was nice for the first ten minutes or so, then decided to try to dominate him, only to realize that he's bigger than she is and not a pansy. She got her butt handed to her and spent the rest of the weekend trying so so hard to suck up to the handsome husky, who pretty much ignored her advances. I don't think Kenai's face (and mouth) has ever been so clean.

Mike was already on his way home, thanks to the on-off downpours all day, so we waited for him to meet up with us before heading back to the barn so Liz could meet my bumbling bunch of equines.

We took it easy the first night. Mike and I had had long days at work and Liz had had a long drive up. Thankfully, internet friends are typically happy to hang out on computers. Hehe.

The following morning dawned gray, windy, and dreary, with a threat of even more impending showers. Despite the ominous forecast, my trailer loading client kept her noon appointment. This particular horse and client were new to me, but I know the barn well (and so do some of you!)

Liz and I hid in the barn, shielding ourselves from the relatively frigid temps, while we waited for the trailer to arrive. In the meantime I met Fiyero, a 12 year old chestnut quarter horse. Apparently he's pretty selective about what trailers he goes into, and he has decided that his owner's trailer is not one of them. Frustratingly, they were able to get him halfway in, but he refused to take the last few steps. His young rider informed me that she can get him in eventually, but it takes about two hours each time, and sometimes he won't go at all.

Before long, I got to work on the feisty redhead. My general conclusion was that the horse was just rude and a little spoiled. He had no qualms about barging into my personal space, yanking the lead rope away from me, or popping his front end off the ground. His owner warned me that he also kicks out at the whip, an issue I promised would not persist through the session. Fiyero did not appear to be afraid of the trailer. He simply didn't want to go in, and attempts to make him do so just made him angry.

I parked myself inside the trailer, away from his flailing limbs and barging body, as well as the unpleasant weather. Poor Liz was left outside to shiver behind her camera.

Fiyero does not like trailers.

Using my usual technique, I got Fiyero onto the ramp in about two minutes, and completely onto the trailer in about twenty. He very quickly figured out that kicking out, rearing, and pulling back weren't going to work, but his favorite evasion was getting sideways so that he was pointed perpendicular to the trailer. Silly horse, that won't work either. I can still reach you. 0:)

What cracked me up about Fiyero was the fact that he would quickly realize that he'd picked the wrong answer, and over enthusiastically correct himself. At one point he was actually LEAPING onto the ramp and stomping his feet down spitefully while glaring at me.

Once he went in, however, the light bulb suddenly lit up. I gave him a cookie for his efforts, and calmly backed him out of the trailer to try again. This time, it took him less than a minute to get in the trailer.

Me: Now we are going to go in and out and in and out and in and out...
Liz: Oh?

I did work on self-loading with Fiyero and he got it a handful of times, but he was getting mentally tired by then and still had some kinks to work out. I finished the session by having his owner lead him into the trailer a handful of times, and told her that it was up to her whether she wanted another session to finish the process. I suspect that leading in like a normal horse is going to be 'good enough' for this client and I'll probably never see the horse again. Still, I'd call it a success.

By the time we were done with trailer loading, the weather was downright atrocious. Liz and I had lunch at one of my favorite sandwich places before driving through the scenic Amwell Valley for the local tour. We even pulled over next to the Lotus dealership for a photo op.

"O no... I'm having engine trouble!"

Once Mike was home and we were showered, we made a group trip out to the grocery store for dinner supplies. Liz had brought freshly butchered steaks up with her and we were very excited to devour them. While at the grocery store, we picked up temporary tattoos for later use. Hilarity ensued with the help of the tatts, Photoshop, and Slut Sauce™.

Saturday morning, Liz and I took our sweet time getting out of the house. We had a loose plan for the day, but nothing set in stone.

We started out with a trip to the barn, where I tacked up FatPony for Liz to ride. Meanwhile, the dogs gallivanted peacefully in the background.

Liz is a great rider and doesn't really need instruction so I flat out asked her what she wanted to work on. The conclusion was that Liz would take advantage of JR's love of jumping to get her first formal lesson in a long time. Liz was totally game to do whatever I threw at her and, with a lower leg as solid as hers, it wasn't long before she was jumping for real.

At one point, Liz sort of... lost her steering... coming out of the line. JR came around the turn, lined up the John Deere jumped, and just popped right over. Liz stayed on, gathered her reins back up, and stated plainly, "Oops."
"By the way, the pony likes to jump," I announced.

First cross rail back :)

Since we had the pony all tacked up anyway, I decided to hop on him and put him through his paces. In the end, Liz even talked me into hopping over a few cross rails for the first time since my accident. JR was a good sport and I was thrilled to find that I experienced no pain in my bad leg. It would not be the last time Liz's peer pressure paid off over the course of the weekend.

Once JR was all put away, I pulled Dancer from the field, opting to lunge him just for the sake of exercise. The oxer was set to a low cross rail and I decided to evaluate Dancer's jumping. I know from his last owner that he never did anything more than cross rails. To be perfectly honest, I wasn't impressed with his early attempts at jumping on the day I went to see him initially. So it was back to square one for him. I led him over poles on the ground until he stopped thinking about them, then reintroduced the cross rail. In only a few attempts, he worked out his own issues and hopped smoothly over it as if it was second nature. Hooray!

That afternoon, we ventured north to Horsemen's and Dover so Liz could get her fill of tack stores. It was as if destiny herself had us in mind that day. Liz has been window shopping for brown Ariat Terrains in a size six  (normally $85) and a 4 1/2" full cheek, French link snaffle (usually $35 if they even have it that small). Within two minutes of being in the consignment room, Liz found the only pair of Terrains on the boot wall. They just so happened to be size six and fit her perfectly. They were also only $45! Just after she put those down, she turned around to find me holding a $10 full cheek French link. We made our way to the front counter where a measuring tape revealed that the bit was *drum roll* 4 1/2". Liz even scored a sweet hi-vis vest for $3.

My face says it all.

From there, we were off to Dover, where it was my turn to do some unexpected shopping. Did you know that Tipperary now makes their helmets in PINK??? Neither did I. Not only did the helmet instantly grab my attention; the display model fit me like a glove. *sigh* I tried to talk myself out of getting the helmet while Liz enabled me. A phone call to the ever-logical Erin pushed me over the edge as she cited the helmets many benefits, including the fact that it's light and well ventilated. FINE. I am not the proud owner of a pink helmet.  Not gonna lie, I love it. In fact, I was so excited that I'm pretty sure I scared the check out girl. Liz made me leave the store because I was making a scene. Ahem.

Saturday night, Margaret arrived and we met her at the train station. Liz made a sign for us to hold up, despite the fact that we were the only people on the platform and that Margaret already knows what I look like. We got some pretty good laughs out of that one.

That night we went out to sushi and stuffed ourselves stupid. Good food, good company, good times.

Sunday was a big barn day for us. JR looked less than amused when we pulled him out of the field yet again, with yet another person in tow. He's such a good sport.

Margaret started the day off with her first ever jumping lesson. She has gotten to be such a strong, quiet, and gentle rider. I really love her feel for the horses and her soft hands. She doesn't get frazzled pretty much ever and she's up for just about anything. Despite the fact that she's used to riding in a western saddle, it wasn't long before Margaret was taking JR through the line and over some verticals.

Doing the John Deere on purpose.

Liz followed up for a second day of jumping the pony. This time, she amped up her game and did her first ever course. Both Liz and JR were having a blast and JR was positively zooming by the end of it.

I took pity on the fat Morgan and spared him a third ride for the day. Instead, I got Alcatraz in and tacked up. The big horse managed to hook his face on something and gave himself a sizable gash, but I just left the noseband loose and he didn't seem bothered. I lunged Traz to gauge where his mood and brain were, then decided to just suck it up and throw a leg over. My goal was originally to get on a client horse by June 1st. Mission accomplished! Again, I was delighted to find that my leg seemed to be holding up well.

After Traz threw a pretty impressive fit in the corner (I had asked for a nice canter transition instead of a sloppy one, the horror!) I decided, "Well, I sat that without pain. I might as well jump this thing."

I warmed Traz up over some cross rails, then moved up to a vertical. He was a good boy, despite the fact that I am super rusty and can't seem to follow my own riding advice. Still, it's good to be back!

After I was done with him, I offered Traz up to the other girls. In the end, Liz decided to give him a go. He's a lot bigger than the endurance horses she's used to riding, but she took it all in stride and was even ballsy enough to jump him.

By the time we were done with Alcatraz, we were all pretty hot and ravenous (rrrr....) so we ran home, ordered pizza, and enjoyed some air conditioning until Mike got home.

At that point, Mike and I made a quick, unpleasant run into the ghetto to retrieve a dog carrier for Carolyn to send to Puerto Rico. *shudder* I don't even want to talk about it.

That evening, we made a return trip to the barn to play with Ozzy. Mike missed out on the fun because he was busy cutting up yet another big, fallen tree.

As we walked Ozzy down to the arena, I told the girls, "When riding this horse, you need to remember one thing: don't forget to laugh!"

 Ozzy was mostly a good boy despite the fact that he hasn't been ridden in over a month. He did test Liz in one corner just to make a liar out of me. "He doesn't do anything dirty, huh?"

Margaret taking Ozzy for a sunset stroll.

All three of us rode Ozzy, who was being a total goof. He showed us his gaits (all seven of them) and quirks and just seemed happy to make people laugh. Liz squealed when she discovered that I'm not kidding when I say he's a fast horse. Margaret didn't even seem fazed by his antics.

As for me... I was just delighted to be astride my heart horse. I grinned from ear to ear the whole time we circled the ring.

 I don't know about everyone else, but I was pretty much worn out by the time we went home again. We had another lovely night in. This time, Mike cooked up the venison Liz had brought up with her. Garlic-breaded venison nuggets with corn and Mike's famous mashed potatoes. Mmmmm...

 Monday was Mike's only day off for the week. Liz was kind enough to cook us a delicious breakfast (red potatoes, eggs, and ramps she pulled from the ground herself) before she hit the road. I could seriously eat that dish every day for the rest of my life. So good!

 The group of us stood in the driveway and waved goodbye to Liz, Kenai, and Rascal. That's right... Liz took the kitten home with her! He fits right in with all her other black and white animals and she told me she'd take him if he ate solid food by Monday and tested negative for kitty diseases. He met both criteria and she held up her end of the bargain. His name is now (K)Atticus. The K is silent. I'm thrilled that he ended up in such good hands.

Now down to only two, Margaret and I were back to the barn for a day of gorgeous weather and goofy antics. Mike got dragged along to play the part of photographer.

 The day started off with another jumping session with Dancer. I warmed him up over the cross rail before popping it up to a baby vertical. It was his first time doing more than a cross rail and he wasn't the least bit bothered. Before I knew it, I had him up to a 2'6" oxer over a 3' spread. He barely even looked at it, but I opted not to go any higher on his first time out. The horse is a serious delight to work with and pleasantly surprises me every time out. I'm excited to be strong enough to ride grids with him because I think he'll be awesome once we develop his form. He's certainly brave and honest, which are two things you can't really teach a horse.

Much to his dismay, JR was up next. We did decide to take it easy on him and Margaret rode him around bareback. He's certainly built for it, my comfy little couch pony. From there, we went on to perform all sorts of bareback antics. Margaret had mentioned the night before that she'd never stood up on a horse. We crossed that one right off her list. Not surprisingly, she nailed it. JR, for his part, stood completely still. He's happy to put up with anything if it means he doesn't have to work.  We also crossed riding double off my own bucket list. Hehe.

JR doesn't care.

We spent the afternoon driving around the area, looking at potential apartments, and grocery shopping.

 That night featured more excellent cooking by Mike, who made his famous garlic sliders with a side of sweet potato waffle fries. The whole group of us watched Hotel Transylvania, which was adorable, hilarious, and perfect.

 On Tuesday, Mike went back to work and the weather went back to hell. Margaret and I have been trying for six years to go on a trail ride together. Every time, something gets in the way... whether it's fox hunters spooking Ozzy into slamming his head through a glass light, or SRF's golf outing keeping us away from the farm, we just never seem to manage to get out there. This year, we were determined to make it work, so we ignored the rain, saddled JR and Ozzy up, and headed out through the housing development.

 The ride was short, but we're calling it a success. We did a lot of road riding and opted out of going all the way to Baldpate (probably for the best since the skies opened up in earnest as soon as we got home). The horses at Batcha Farms were not very helpful when they came galloping up to us, then screaming their heads off the whole time we were riding down the road. Still, it wasn't bad for the first time my horses have been off the property since January.

A weekend of friendship.

The weather continued to go down hill for the rest of the day and we all spent the afternoon curled up in front of the TV watching Audrey Hepburn movies. I wound up drinking a good bit of the remaining Slut Sauce™ that night, but still managed to get up at 4am to take Margaret to the train station.

And just like that, a brilliant weekend was behind me. It went much too quickly, but it was great to see two of my favorite blogging girls. Plus, I really think their influence got me back in the saddle for real. I'm still not at 100%, but this weekend was a huge step forward in my recovery. I'm baaaaack! 

Below the cut are a gagillion photos taken by Margaret, Liz, Mike, and myself. I'm honestly not even sure who took what at this point.

Mike is a good sport.

    

Schooling JR

  

Camera?

Over reacting to ground poles.

First jumping lesson.

Loved having a camera crew all weekend.

I'm sexy.

Back on a real horse.

Back on my favorite horse :)

I miss endurance with this guy.

Nice leg :) ( Good eye! Good torso!)

  

"He's so faaaast!"

   

I get mobbed when I go in the field.

Kenai is a good saddle rack.

  

Zoom!

Halt at husky.

Pissy!

  

Redhead riding a redhead.

I was hoping Liz would take a puppy too.

Love this horse.

The OTTB's wanted to participate.

Mike gets mobbed too.

Beefcake.