Check out my new photos of us riding through the Redwoods. These are a little better than last time.

So we took the horses back to where we rode 2 weeks ago, out in the redwoods. I got some better pictures, but some are still blurry. I was riding Dakota when I was trying to take them and he was NOT wanting to hold still at all. In fact, we kept leaving my poor sister and Spring behind.

Poor Spring kept having to trot to keep up. And she got another rock lodged in her frog AGAIN! I'm just gonna have to put shoes on her. Anyhow, check out my album "Riding in the Redwoods". It was absolutely beautiful the day we rode.

The past few weeks have been horrible. Everything that could go wrong....went wrong! So this weekend I decided it was time for a nice ride. So I loaded up the horses, grabbed a friend, and drove out to my old riding territory: The Avenue of the Giants - the redwoods.

I grew up in a place called Pepperwood. And while there are plenty of Pepperwood trees, most people have no idea that they exist, mainly due to the overly popular Redwood. We lived on 10 acres, literally out in the "sticks", in a "town" of a population of 50. In the summer, however, it was busy with tourists. People would actually lay in the middle of the road and take pictures looking up at the trees. The road would be crowded with parked cars and people picking blackberries, logan berries, raspberries, apples, plums, and cherries that grew in abundance along the old the highway. As kids, we always had our favorite spots. We knew which tree had the best apples, or where you could find a berry bush that hadn't been bothered by the tourists.  Our neighbors, of course, also had a near-year-round produce stand that sold organic fruit and vegetables, as well as the ever-popular blackberry popsicle.

 That's me, at 12 years old on my pony. I rode by my neighbors and bought a popsicle and she took this picture of me. Typical me - no shoes, no saddle. And if you look closely, I also have "black" teeth...

You could stand in my back yard and all would see at the end of the horse pasture was a giant wall of trees. It was breathtaking. They were so huge!

The other attraction was the foot-trails that ran through the redwoods. The most popular was the "Loop" trail. Which is where my friend and I went riding on Saturday. It wasn't too crowded this weekend. We did run into a couple groups of people, but most people out there are city folks, and love to see and pet the horses. This was Spring's first real trail ride and she did awesome! I decided to put my friend, Shelly, on her because Dakota was a little too excited. He paced along the trail like it was a timed event and poor Spring had to trot to keep up. And every so often Dakota would "see" something. Sometimes he'd spook in place, but otherwise he was alright. All in all they both did great. It was a beautiful day, warm enough for tank tops, and the horses (and us) loved the the change in scenery.

Poor Spring did get a rock wedged into her frog on the way back. Shelly noticed an occassional limp, so we pulled up and located the problem. Spring was a little sore after, but not bad. She seemed totally fine yesterday. I guess it's time for her to have her first pair of shoes.

But oh man was it good to be home. Poor Shelly had to listen to me chatter on and on about old memories and "this trail leads to this place" and "we built a fort over here" and "this was our old rope swing" stories. LOL. It was great though. I can't wait to go back...

I swear my gelding suffers from some sort of immaturity disease. I bought him as a 3 year-old and he never mentally matured past that age. 

Living on the North-West coast has it's ups and downs. Being able to ride on the beach, the beautiful scenery and environment...and the weather. Unfortunately, I don't live down in southern California where you can swim in the ocean and NOT worry about hypothermia in the middle of summer. And the last few days, it's been cold and miserable. Even though 2 weeks ago we had record-breaking heat waves. And with the cold weather, came the cold virus.

It's a good thing this is about typing, cause there's no way I could talk. My voice is coming and going, and my chest and throat hurt from coughing. But, this morning the clouds cleared and out came the sun, so Ruger (the dog) and I walked down to see what Dakota and Spring were up to.

Initially, I only meant to groom each horse, but I thought I would just lunge Spring to see how spunky she was. I don't think I've rode her in over a week. And then of course, since she was all saddled and wasbehaving herself, I decided to climb on and just take it slow around the pasture.

Oh, but apparantly someone else had other thoughts. Dakota, who was loose in the same pasture, decided it was time to play. Every time Spring and I would take off trotting, Dakota would come barreling towards us bucking, snorting and squealing.  I would yell at him, wave my arms and tell him to move, but he would come right back. Anytime I wasn't paying attention, he would sneak up on Spring and bite her tail. She would pin her ears and kick out and then I would get mad all over again. I finally decided he needed to be tied up.

I got his halter, and after playing ring-around-Springy, I caught and tied him up to a post. He knew he was in trouble and started nickering as soon as I turned back towards my little mare, who was standing a ways off with what I swear was a smug look. I mounted back up on Spring and we turned to head down towards the opposite end of the pasture when I suddenly heard "WHAP!" . I turned around to see Dakota leaning back, bracing against the halter as hard as he could in an attempt to pull loose. I ran towards him, but as I reached him he lunged forward, catching his head on the roof of the lean-to. Luckily, he wasn't hurt. I tried to untie him, but the knot had tightened (even if it was supposed to be a quick-realease knot) and had practically melted itself. Not only that, but the rope was embeded into the post.

That's what I get for buying a cheap nylon rope. A friend of mine happened to stop by and it must have taken us a good 30 minutes to work the rope loose. We busted out the hoofpicks and using a brick we found, wedged the hoofpicks into the parts of the knot that were pulled super tight and gradually worked  it loose.

The worst part was, when we realized we couldn't untie the rope we slipped the halter over his head and let him loose while we worked on the knot (it was combo rope halter and lead). I glanced over once to find him standing next to Spring (who was literally just standing there), while Dakota was chewing on my stirrup. Not just chewing on it, but would grab the stirrup and fling it! I chased him off, but pretty soon he was back, nipping at Spring and making her kick out and squeal.

I was so frusterated! I actually felt sorry for poor Spring, thinking about her having to put up with such childish behavior all the time. My friend and I must have chased him off half a dozen times before we finally gave up. What a trouble-maker!

It's 7 A.M. and cold. I'm still asleep, engulfed in the warm, chaotic mess that makes up my bed. My boyfriend snuggled up to my backside, two cats snuggled into my stomach and chest, and one on top of my hip, with the dog at our feet. I'm not in any position to move, nor would I want to.

And then the phone rings.

I nudge Kevin, who mumbles, "You left it on the dresser."

It's still ringing. Crap. I nudge Kevin again and say, "Arm". He obiedently lifts his arm off my waist. I then proceed to try and wriggle my own arm out from under one of the cats, without disturbing his sleep, of course, only to feel my elbow bang into something solid.

"Ow. Good morning to you, too," Kevin says, sarcastically, rubbing his forehead.

"Sorry!" I say. I continue to try climbing over the top of Kevin to get to the dresser (because I wouldn't want to disturb the cats). The phone's still ringing and I'm frantically trying to tear away blankets to reach for the phone, knowing I don't have much time left. I'm still half-way perched on top of poor Kevin, when I finally get my feet clear of blankets. The dog, suddenly realizing I'm leaving the bed, hopefully for his breakfast, comes flying out from under the blanket and hits the floor. The same time I make a run for the phone.

I step, he yelps, I yelp, I trip, I grab the blanket as I crash to the floor, pulling the blanket (and everyone on it) down with me. The cats all scatter, the dog slinks away, and Kevin rolls over to stare at me.

The phone stops ringing.

Kevin reaches down, grabs the blanket and pulls it back onto the bed. Then rolls back over. "Yeah, good morning to you to!" I say angrily as I push myself back up onto my feet. "And I'm fine, thanks for asking!" It took me a minute to realize he was laughing.

"Serves you right!" he says. "That's what you get for trying to be nice."

I threw a pillow at him, then retrieved my phone. My mother had called and left a message about a horse pasture for rent for 50 bucks a month. What?! 50 bucks? That's cheap for my area. I called the number she left and talked to the owner. She sounded very elderly, but she informed me the pasture was well fenced with a barn and a lean-to on either side, and big enough for two horses. I asked her location, waiting for the catch.

"I'm on South 16th Street, " she said.

"South 16th? I live on the corner of South 16th!" I exclaimed.

I informed the owner I wanted to preview the pasture before bringing my horses over, and she agreed. I hung up the phone, squeeled with excitement, kissed Kevin on the forehead, and ran from the room. I just reached the front door when I heard him yell, "Put some pants on first, for God's sake!"

It ended up being a really good deal. My horses are now right behind my horse where I'll be able to watch and care for them myself. I even have use of the barn. It will be a little tough not having constant access to an arena and roundpen, but I'm hoping that neither horse needs them. Anyhow, I'll keep everyone posted. 

I went for a ride on my gelding yesterday. The weather was sooo perfect. The sun was out, it was 9 am in the morning, the birds were chirping, no wind...in fact, I'm pretty sunburned around the collar. I decided that I needed to take a ride away from the stables to relax a little bit and detox from the week.

Yeah, right.

Remember me telling you my gelding had 'race-horse' syndrome? I lied. On the way down to the river, he had 'go-stop-wait-watch-turn-around-wait-what's-that?-stop-again-oh-my-god-it's-a-cow!-reverse-till-we-hit-something-jump-forward-and-repeat' syndrome. Otherwise known as Attention-Defecit Disorder with Acute Paranoia.

I know you know what I'm talking about.

The worse part was I was riding with a friend and her barrel horse. The gelding she was riding was pretty well behaved but he had a few jitters too. Which, of course, erupted into total chaos later.  Ever seen barrel horses entering the arena before a run? They kinda run or trot in place or sideways, their heads are up and bent almost to their neck, they're foaming at the bit, and just all bunched up like a coiled spring waiting to be released? Yeah....that was us yesterday on the way home.

My friend informed me that her horse sometimes acted that way on the way home, but I told her my horse was usually very good. He's never been barn or buddy sour. When we first turned around, i thought I was going to die. My friends horse immediately started trying to lunge forward to run, but she held him back. My gelding lunged forward, too, not wanting to be left behind. I quickly reined him in, using a very firm voice (alright, maybe I was yelling) at him to "WHOA!". He stopped, but then started hopping on the front end. My first thought was "Please, dear God, don't rear over backwards." I sunk in my saddle, gripped with my knees, and just kept talking (OK, OK! Yelling...) at him to settle down and he did!

I was shocked at first. He was still super hyped, wanting to go, but I kept him reined in. He danced in place, his ear flickering back and forth, watching the horse in front of us weave all over the road. When I finally felt him settle a little, I let him walk. It was a quick paced half-walk-half-trot, but I could deal with that.

My friend and I were constantly trying to keep them checked in, but they danced and jittered, jumped and lunged, hopped and ran sideways. We tried doing circles to re-coop, but they would just spin like reining horses. But while all this was going on, there was a little part of me that was proud. My gelding has always been a little over-reactive. He was bred to run, and had quite the lineage of Quarter Horse sprinters. But I was so glad when I could still maintain a little control. That was the most important thing to me.

And then, once we got off the river bar back onto the dirt road (about 15 minutes later), I stopped him, rubbed him a little, then asked him to walk. And he did. And we actually walked the rest of the way home.

My poor friend was still riding the trail-horse-from-hell, and told me how embrassed she was about her horse. He skidded all over the place on the way home, but my horse continued to walk.

Funny, though, how it took us 45 minutes to get down to the river, but only 15 minutes to get back. Huh. I guess that was Murphy's Law. I wanted a nice relaxing ride but spent most of my time praying I wouldn't become a vegetable. Figures!