Beach Horses

For many years we lived in a wonderful community on a little spit of land that reached out into the waters of Puget Sound. 

Our house was one block from the beach and thanks to the generosity of good friends, it was a walk through their woods behind our house to the seven acres where our horses resided in the same fields and barn where I rode horses as a child.

We didn't advertise there were horses on lower Browns Point.  We worried about liability, children getting into the pasture and perhaps getting hurt, etc., not to mention the loss of privacy to our generous neighbors who allowed us to keep horses on their property.

However, children did show up to see our horses, usually towards the end of summer, right before school started.  I'd offer to spend time with them, showing them all about horses, but requested they not come up to see the horses on their own.  I found once school started and the weather got wet their visits stopped.

Sometimes our horses escaped.  I recall one situation where one of our horses had pushed the gate open on Fourth of July.  All four horses leisurely wandered down to the park on the beach to greet the crowds of people who were gathered to enjoy their holiday picnics and await the evening fireworks.

Our horses ate well that day.  We got the call and arrived to find a group of about eight men, followed by a crowd of women and children, leading the horses back up the road to the barn. 

Brave, generous souls these men, encouraged by their interaction with our horses, which made them even braver, who volunteered to help that day.  They'd gone into their garages or boats to find ropes which they slipped over our horses's necks to lead them back home. 

One of the bravest (and the oldest), rode our (feisty) Mare home bareback with only a rope around her neck.  It's said he talked about that experience until the day he died and so I'm glad he did it.  But I have to say I almost fainted when I saw him riding her.

Our horses came home willingly, tired from all the exercise and gorged from the treats they'd been given.  These fire breathing equines were stuffed with watermelon and heaven knows what from the picnic grounds.  They were exhausted and ready to settle down and take naps.

Once back in their pasture they seemed relieved.  The women and children who had followed this party home approached to provide one last bit of summer holiday treat and lots of loving pets.  The men stood around, coiling up their "lassos" and talking about their adventure.  We gushed with gratitude, so grateful for good neighbors.

As they left the men walked a little taller, the women smiled a little wider and the children skipped and danced a little higher.

Five months later, as we did every year on Christmas Day, we brushed our horses until they shined.  We spruced them up with jingle bells (we worked on getting them used to the bells months ahead of time), and again paraded them down the road that aligned our home and those on the beach for our annual Christmas morning walk, always returning promptly to pick up "road apples".

I recall all the neighbors looking forward to our yearly parade of horses.  Families would come out on their doorsteps to cheer us on and wish holiday greetings.  Children would come out with apples and carrots, saved for this special event.  Smiles would abound from all, good will and cheer would fill the air.

Five years ago we decided to move our horses from the beach to the foothills of the Cascade Mountains.  We left the smells of salt water for the smells of, well - smells of the country.

I hear it was with sadness that those along our Christmas Parade route awaited us that first holiday after we left.  I hear it was later said, "The horses have left Browns Point".  I wonder, five years later, how many recall our Christmas day walks and what type of response we'd get today if we were to trailer over and take that walk once more? 

Definitely something to ponder.

Until the Day He Dies

With 3 months to go, 2010 has been a tough year.  It was supposed be a year of bliss and happiness as I set off down the road of retirement.  But instead it has been filled with more heartbreak and sadness then in all of the years I've owned horses put together.

Cisco:  My been/there, done/that, confidence builder Quarter Horse.  I was so excited to have the time to ride him at home or head out on the trails around our home during the work week once I retired.

Two weeks after I retired I lost Cisco as noted in my Post on January 13, 2010, "A Sad Day."

Champ (Want My Autograph):  The hard-headed, opinionated performance horse I inherited from our daughter when she moved onto college.  Many of my Posts in 50+ and my short-lived (http://www.lifeplushorses.blogspot.com/) are written around Champ.

Champ was a real challenge for me.  I can't count the times I wanted to chicken out (or did chicken out) when I was headed up to ride this talented but obstinate horse.

Many times I'd rather have been doing anything but going up to ride this nasty beast.  Oh the excuses I'd come up with to avoid facing those rides!  But never have I felt the high and sense of accomplishment that I got when I did ride.  Nothing tops that successful feeling - or was it the joy of being alive?  Not sure.

Champ taught me so much.  He pushed my envelope.  I read up on Ground Work and applied the tools.  I established myself as the Leader of our Herd.  My rides became predictable and Champ and I bonded into an incredible relationship.

We were well on our way to becoming an intuitive team.  The day after the most incredible ride I'd ever had on any horse in my life,  (http://www.lifeplushorses.blogspot.com/  "A +10 Day", June 23, 2010), Champ became ill.  Six days later we put Champ down.  My family and I still grieve over this bigger than life, bright red Paint who eventually became putty in my hands.

But I was so lucky.  While I was preoccupied with Champ, I'd held off on replacing Cisco at home.  I had a mental list of what I wanted in my next horse.  I could recite that list in my sleep (in fact I did).  But I wasn't on the hunt for a new horse.  Champ and our challenges had my days filled.

Two weeks before I lost Champ I met Poco.  He exceeded every expectation I'd ever had.  I looked forward to having him at home to ride.  I envisioned offering him out to ride to my novice friends.  I couldn't wait to haul Poco and Champ to Cabin Creek and go trail riding.

Now without Champ, Poco became my only riding horse.  His kind heart and gentle ways helped me through those early days of Champ's loss.

I had passed on a pre-purchase exam for Poco, thinking what did I need to know about a 21-year old horse?  Poco was in great shape and I had references from personal contacts who knew him before I bought him.

But something hasn't been right with Poco.  Weepy eyes had me accounting it to the flies.  I frequently cleaned his eyes but recently I noticed that Poco seemed to have an issue with movement on his right side, causing him to spook (so unlike him).  After a ride he'd stand with his eyes closed.  Fellow riders remarked about how I'd worn him out and he was "sleeping".  It worried me.

I had the vet come out to take a look at Poco's eyes.  The diagnosis is Moon Blindness.  My horse is going blind.  His right eye is already pretty much gone.

Would I have passed on Poco if I'd had a pre-purchase exam?  Probably yes.  So I'm glad I didn't have one because of all the horses I've owned, Poco ranks in the top 5.  I'm glad I bought him.  Who knows what might have happened to him if I hadn't?

Pity isn't going to help Poco in the future, but an assured rider will.  And for a 50+ rider who has worked hard on her confidence, this is just the Call I need to show Poco how assured I can be.

My commitment to this horse will be about comfort and trust.  Moon Blindness is painful.  I've got a meds if needed and my vet has versed me on degrading danger signs as well as assuring me to call him if things become worse.

Although I've been warned by my vet to not take Poco to unfamiliar places where he might have issues, I plan to continue to ride Poco, starting with the confines of the indoor arena with a goal of keeping him in touch with the world he used to see so clearly.  What we do will depend on his comfort zone both physically and mentally.  I refuse to force or push him into some place where he isn't comfortable.  But I also refuse to baby or pity him.

Poco will be my horse until the day he dies. 

And I sure hope that's a long way off.

Shaking The Tree

Every once in awhile it's good to shake one's tree and get the dust off of one's leaves.  The last time I did this was a year ago.  My Hubby, Hank the Dog, and I took a trip to the Northeast side of Washington State.

My husband, familiar with the area from years of hunting, took me to the most beautiful places up in the mountains.  The cool fresh air and scent of pine trees was like perfume. 

At one point on our drive, through the trees I spotted the most incredible camping spot.  I asked to pull over.  Down off of the road and through the pine trees we went to a spot that took my breath away.  It was large and spacious with a creek and small waterfall running along it.  We grabbed our camp chairs and spent a long time there that day.

I never wanted to leave this wonderful place.  We made a pact that we'd return the following year and camp there.  So a year later, here we are heading back.

Early morning, our Belgians with neighbor's buffalo in the distance, wondering what we're up to.

Ready to leave in our camper, hoping the beautiful spot we found last year isn't already occupied by someone else.

Passing many apple orchards, active at harvest time. 

Running fence is never fun but this (literally) tops all we'd ever seen!

Hank the Dog, up from a nap to check out the surroundings.

Late in the day we arrive at the spot we discovered last year to find it empty.  It's all ours!

It's as beautiful as we remembered!

A level spot to set up Camp. 

Sweat pants and shirts mandatory in the AM.  Coffee anyone?

No matter where you go, there's always laundry!  :)

During our stay we never saw another person.  It was peaceful, relaxing and fun.  A few days later it was time to head home.  We returned the same way we did last year, a different route which included this (tiny) ferry boat ride.

I was curious to check out this property with multiple lots for sale.  Last year they sat empty, driveways and roads leading to nowhere.  Sadly, no changes in the past year.  The lots still sit empty.  Just like the abandoned homes and farms we passed, a sign of our sad economy.

Climbing up and up into the sky.  Lots of hairpin turns and cliffs that drop down hundreds of feet.

Once we get up on top, we drive across miles and miles of wheat fields as far as the eye can see.

This rock wall we drove past last year fascinated us.

We hit I-90 and soon found ourselves in familiar stomping grounds, pulling onto our road right before dark.  After living out of the camper, our house seemed huge!

Yesterday I couldn't wait to see Poco.  He was happy to see me, putting his nose into my neck and then just standing there smelling me until I finally moved away.  I swear that horse missed me as much as I missed him!

The camper is off the truck and parked back where it sits when not in use.  Tomorrow my Hubby returns to work and I go back to the routine I had prior to our trip.  It was good to shake my tree and dust off my leaves, good for the heart and soul.  But it's also good to be back home!

True Friends

I want to introduce to two very special friends, Haley and Rachel.

Haley is my riding buddy at the barn.  She's one of those people who always puts a smile on my face and makes laughter come so easily.  People like that in our lives are special.  If you think about someone you know who is like that, I bet right now you've also got a smile on your face, just as I do right now!

Haley and I are both 50+ and always seem to be in a battle to keep our confidence levels up.  Riding together whenever possible, we help each other out with observations and support. 

We always seem to have an ongoing discussion about our philosophies on life and equines.  As we cool down our horses, we carry on these mind provoking conversations.  Together on our horses we solve the world's issues.

We've come to know each other so well that recently, as we stood outside the arena watching one of our fellow riders jumping, I turned to Haley and said, "You know, maybe someday we should..." 

That's as far as I got.  Haley finished my thought with, "No Sheri, we are not jumping."  I replied, "We aren't?"  She responded, "No, we are not."  I looked at her, she looked at me, and we both broke into laughter.  Haley is right.  Jumping isn't something either of us wants to attempt.  We're much happier observing.

Rachel is my trainer.  She's helped me to become the rider I'd always wanted to be.

But the road to getting me there surely hasn't been easy.  How many trainers would have the patience to give lessons to this 50+ rider whose first lesson started outside the stall of the horse she was supposed to ride (because she was terrified of going inside the stall)? 

How many trainers would continually ask this rider at every lesson for over six months if they were ready to lope before this rider finally got up the confidence to comply? 

Rachel's quiet inner strength, her positive way with both horse and rider, her humor and way of making a statement without offending has kept this 50+ rider going and going, like the Energizer Bunny.

Two wonderful people I'm honored to call friends.  There's a special bond amongst the three of us, a love of horses and special strength that has brought us close.  It's a gift that will carry through the years of time.  We are sisters, bonded by our respect for each other, our love of horses and all things equine.

Riding Free

I'd been given a new challenge.  Riding without stirrups.  The first few times my trainer, Rachel, suggested it she got a firm "No!" from me.  But this week as I got more adjusted to riding Poco in Champ's saddle, got those muscles in my seat back, got my "groove" going, she suggested it again and I decided to give it a try.

I started with taking my feet out of the stirrups at a walk.  My legs went behind me and I tilted forward.  It wasn't pretty.

Then I recalled all those years as a kid when we never had time to saddle our horses.  We were always in a hurry to ride and rode bareback.  In the summer we'd take our horses swimming.

As a child and teenager I had the most wonderful exposure to water and horses.  During warm weather my friend and I would take the horses down onto the Browns Point beach in Northeast Tacoma, WA.  We'd usually ride the beach for miles, strolling along talking about whatever entered our minds.

On our return we'd take a dip in Puget Sound.  The salt water always smelled so good.  From the initial shock of getting my legs wet and then up to my waist (and above), the water initially shocked me but felt so refreshing.

My horse and I would go out deep.  We'd be floating, his nose and upper neck the only things visible besides the upper part of me, reminding me of a little tug boat.  It was true teamwork as I gave him his head, put a hand on his mane, floated over his back and let him swim unhampered from my guidance.   I always felt that when I was out in the deep water swimming on horseback it was as close as one could come to flying with their horse.

We'd come back up onto the beach, both of us refreshed.  I'd laugh while he shook.  At this point there would usually be some coltish antics he'd put on, a sure sign that he was feeling good at the ripe age of 20+.  I'd be wet, glued onto this back and never have an issue staying on while he went thru his 6 second routine.  I always laughed at his little bucks, bareback in cutoffs and a halter top, no helmet, no fear, no worries.  Falling was the furthest thing from my mind.  I was young and free.

So when I pulled my feet out of those stirrups this week the above memories came back to me.  Yes, I stumbled at first, but then my legs went forward and my heels naturally went down.  For a brief moment I was again fifteen, back on that beach.  I was riding my good old friend, Rusty, next to my best friend, Jayne, on her horse Northern Fly.

Rachel's amazed look and exclamation of "Wow!  Good Job!", brought me back to the reality of being 50+, on my horse Poco, helmet intact, riding in an indoor arena in safe surroundings, no water in sight. 

As I trotted around without stirrups I looked down at Rachel and grinned.  I knew then that I'd never forgotten.  I still remembered how to ride free. 

Summer's End

From May to the end of August, our house buzzes with activity when our daughter is home from college for summer break.

It's an adjustment for my husband and I to have our only child back home as much as I'm sure it's an adjustment for her to be home.  Music, laughter and activity fill our home.  The door swings with friends coming and going and I never know how many mouths I'll be feeding for dinner. 

My husband and I've been used to the silence and serenity of our home and we've all become used to coming and going as we please.  The initial days of summer break can be a bit trying for all of us.

This year my husband and I have seen our daughter grow into an adult.  We like what we see.  She has spent hours this summer talking with us about anything and everything.  She seems to have realized that Mom and Dad are actually interesting to spend time with.  My husband refers to it as breaking thru to the other side.  It's a very cool thing and a true sign that she is growing up.

Three years ago an unsure Freshman burst into tears as she said goodbye to her home, horse and dog.  This year an assured Junior had already networked with her college bound pals weeks before she left.   Her enthusiasm about returning to school and living in her first apartment with a roommate were catching as I scoured my home for items to send along with her.

Five days before her departure she was  90% packed.  For the first time in what seems forever, she kept her room tidy this summer yet this week it has been in shambles as she prepared to leave. 

Our dog and kitten were perplexed about the changes in the past week.  They seemed to know that she was leaving.  And indeed this morning she left us for another year of school and the discoveries it brings. 

Initially my husband and I will find the silence deafening.  The pets will be out of sorts and we will all be very kind and gentle to each other as we adapt to the change in rhythm. 

But in a few days we will all rediscover the liberation of going where we please, when we please.  Soon it will be our norm, only to change for all of us when she returns from school for the holiday break.

But between now and those next few days, there's a feeling of loss and sadness in both my husband and I as we miss the daughter who brought warmth, smiles, engaging conversation and laughter to us this past summer.  Her leaving is a sure sign of summer's end.

The Difference in a Saddle

Last year about this time I'd been taking lessons every week for about six months, learning how to ride 'correctly'.  I used the saddle and pad our daughter had always used on Champ. 

At first I didn't have any issues but as I progressed in my lessons, using my legs more and more, I found the saddle I was using wasn't fitting either of us.

The saddle pitched me forward leaving me feeling I was going to end up on Champ's neck.  My "50+ rear end spread" was a bit too generous for the seat.  :0  When I started learning to use my legs, I found my range of motion constrained.  I was uncomfortable and that led me to being unsure of my abilities.

Champ didn't seem to care for the saddle either.  He'd pin his ears back and sometimes even try to strike me with his left front leg when I went to put it on him.  But then, Champ was always a bit opinionated!

We are fortunate to have a western tack shop near our place.  Mike knows saddles.  He repairs tack and builds saddles.  His side of the store is a dream come true for a rider, his workshop like that of a scientist.  And if you haul your horse in, he'll take the time to fit the right saddle to your horse.  Mike knows his stuff.

Cindy, his wife, on the other side of the store, knows apparel.  The right jeans, hats and boots are waiting for the rider along with cool purses, belts, etc.  Cindy knows what fits and makes you look your best.  Such an eye!  When you buy from Cindy, you know you're going to come out of that shop looking incredible!

With my saddle becoming an issue, we hauled Champ into Mike's one summer evening, about this time last year for a saddle fitting.  I brought along all of the saddles we had at home, all sitting in the tack room because they didn't seem to fit any horse we owned.  Nice saddles ordered via the internet or picked up here and there.  Some hardly ridden in.

Mike first tried out our saddles.  He then hauled out saddles from his shop and eventually he hauled out saddle trees.  Champ was a hard fit, looking like he had narrow withers when in fact he had wide ones.  But Mike found the perfect fit for him.

I was able to trade in some of our unused saddles for a brand new one.  Having short legs, I'd had issues getting the stirrups short enough to fit correctly.  Mike had helped me in the past add additional notches on the fenders so the stirrups would fit me.  With this new saddle he recommended "youth" fenders so I'd get the range of motion I needed.

A few weeks later my new saddle arrived.  I picked it up along with a new pad and promptly went out and rode Champ.  What a difference for both of us!  A little more room for my 50+ spread, fenders that allowed me to move my legs, it was a dream to ride in.


Champ also seemed to like this saddle.  After a couple of rides, the pinned ears and flying front left leg stopped when he realized it wasn't going to hurt him.

The more I used it the better it got.  Suddenly I was doing rollbacks and loping off, etc.  I discovered a new found confidence that accompanied the ground work I'd been doing with Champ.  I found my balance and seat.  I felt secure.

Champ's sudden loss in June shook me and my family to our core.  I recall the day I brought all of Champ's tack home.  I balled my head off as I retired his bridle and my new saddle, knowing they were part of him and would never be used on him again.

I'd had Poco for two weeks when I lost Champ.  I'd been using that old saddle of Champ's on Poco.  Seemed to fit him ok and I thought it would work fine for the horse that was supposed to be my "live at home trail horse/safe for friends to ride" mount.

With Poco now as my only saddle horse, his destination and use changed.  Instead of going home, he remained at the barn to become my main riding horse.  I continued with my lessons.  For the first four weeks I think I was numb.  I didn't feel, I wasn't able to communicate with Poco and bless him, he tried so hard.

My inability made me frustrated.  I missed the team that my former horse and I had become.  My new horse and I weren't in synch.  I blamed it on my loss of Champ and that made me upset to think I wasn't Cowgirling up and dealing with it.

But, there was something familiar about my discomfort, something I'd felt before.  It took me almost five weeks of beating myself up to realize I'd pitched forward in this saddle before, felt that old burn in my knee as well as that feeling of being squeezed into the saddle.  I'd been here before but I couldn't place where.

The more I rode in that saddle the more uncomfortable I got until a few weeks ago I found myself frustrated at trying to sit back and being pushed forward to the point that I stopped riding and got off.  I hated myself when I told my pals at Ladies Night, "Ugh, this saddle just isn't working!"  I felt accountable for my actions and ashamed that I was blaming my lack of abilities on a stupid saddle.

It hit me then that the symptoms I was encountering were the same I'd had when I first started riding Champ.  The issue - the saddle.

Yet, there was a saddle that fit me well and I missed it as much as that big red paint horse.  At home I pulled that saddle out of our tack room, becoming misty eyed at the smell of Champ on it and the memories that came back as I hefted it up into my car.  Up at the barn I asked my trainer to spot me while I put it up on Poco.  We found it sat him well.  So up I went to take a spin.

When I sat down on Poco in that saddle it was like hearing a choir.  I literally cried out, "Ahhhh!"  It felt wonderful, it felt like I'd come home.  As I worked Poco I discovered something I'd been missing - my seat and balance!  I didn't realize how much I'd been using them, had missed those darned things and like old friends, was happy to find them again.  I sat back and I sat up tall, my legs felt great and my confidence rushed back to me like a wave on the beach.

I'm so pleased to have my balance and confidence back and Poco seems happier too.  I now know how important a good saddle is to the horse and rider. 

To be sure the saddle fits Poco correctly, I'll be hauling him down to visit Mike in the near future to have Mike put his two cents in on ensuring this is a good fit for Poco.

...plus there's this really bling headstall and reins that match my saddle on Mike's side of the store and an awesome pair of boots I've been keeping an eye on forever on Cindy's side...oh...and then there's this really cool buffalo hair purse I've wanted forever, just too cool, hope it's still there...and I could really use a new pair of jeans...  :)