Well... this winter has been anything but usual. Temps have been hitting 50 on and off for weeks, with occasional days of severe temperature drops and rain/snow, but it always return to partly cloudy and unseasonably warm. All this nice weather (which I abhor, FYI, because I love real winter) has made it so UK and I have been out on the trails quite a bit. Whether we go out with some friends, or by ourselves, we've had some great rides.
We even crossed a river Monday before last! It was not planned, however. We went down a different trail-head then usual, only to find the trail we were on was blocked by a large fallen tree that it wouldn't be possible to go over or around. So we had two options, look for another trail, or retrace our steps. We opted for the former, which led us to the river. I knew where we were, as the river crossing would bring us to a trail that led to the main trail we normally rode.
When presented with the river, Dakota forged his way across as he knew home was that way. That was all fine and dandy except for the fact that UK was trembling, not even willing to get his toes wet. The river was about a foot and half deep, with lots of rocks, which was a lot more formidable then any water we'd crossed in the past. After a few minutes of urging, he still couldn't be persuaded to wet his feet, and I suggested to Chrissy that she come back across and we'd take the long way home. Dakota, however, had other ideas. He didn't care if UK was left behind, home was the opposite direction of his terrified comrade.
So suddenly we had two horses on opposite riverbanks, refusing to cross... (it sounds somewhat like the set up for a bad joke.)
A hiker showed up on the top of the hill behind UK and I, which seemed to make him realize that if something terrifying and horse eating were to show up, he'd be safer on the other side of the river with his buddy. Still shaking, he put his feet in the water.
I immediately praised him, and steered him to the break in the steep bank which was diagonally across the river, UK had other ideas. He charged, at a fast walk, sending water everywhere, to the nearest bank, which was two feet above the river and covered with trees. I grabbed mane as he scaled the bank, front feet on dry land, back still in the water. We were almost vertical, to the point that my saddle slid back (thank goodness I never trail ride without a breastplate!), and all I could see were trees and branches. UK hesitated, unsure about what to do with the situation he'd put himself in, I suggested turning and putting those front feet in the river, he did not like that suggestion at all. Instead of the logical solution, he opted for brute force and just shoved himself through the branches and saplings. I held onto mane, ducked my head and said a prayer, hoping he wouldn't slip and dump me in the river. (It's times like these that I desperately wish Jake was still alive so I could pony UK and let him see how these situations should actually be handled.)
We made it, but UK was a little traumatized, so nervous he was still shaking, and didn't want to stand still, or receive a treat. The further we got from the river, the calmer he got. Once sufficiently calmed, his ego began to show and suddenly I was mounted not on regular old UK, but UK the River Conqueror. It's very hard for me not to laugh at him when he gets like this, but manly pride is easily crushed, so I usually manage to restrain myself.
Dakota began to give Chrissy problems when we headed farther up the main trail instead of turning home, so UK got to do more ponying. The spillway didn't even get a glance from UK, who was apparently still the River Conqueror.
We solo trail rode that Friday, and had a good ride despite lots of dog encounters, including a loose dog with no owner in sight. Then on one of the warmer days I broke out the english tack for the first time since December and gave UK a real workout, complete with circles, bending, and lots of transitions work. Then I had Stef get on him, to help her prep for her lesson the next day (Stef has nice light hands, which is why I was certain UK would like her). She went from being extremely nervous to not wanting to get off, as after all his hard work he was just sort of flowing over the field and eager to please.
Riding UK solo has been a great deal of fun, mostly because just six months ago he wasn't able to handle it. I'm extremely proud of his progress! He's matured so much, finally actually acting his age instead of a greeny. He has confidence in himself now, which has given him the ability to trust me more in stressful situations, and just be happier overall. This happiness has made him look incredible, as he's nothing short of glowingly healthy now, all my extra feed and work having paid off.
Now I'll leave you with two pictures from our last ride. Boy does UK look good tacked western! (Okay, he looks good tacked in anything...)
We even crossed a river Monday before last! It was not planned, however. We went down a different trail-head then usual, only to find the trail we were on was blocked by a large fallen tree that it wouldn't be possible to go over or around. So we had two options, look for another trail, or retrace our steps. We opted for the former, which led us to the river. I knew where we were, as the river crossing would bring us to a trail that led to the main trail we normally rode.
When presented with the river, Dakota forged his way across as he knew home was that way. That was all fine and dandy except for the fact that UK was trembling, not even willing to get his toes wet. The river was about a foot and half deep, with lots of rocks, which was a lot more formidable then any water we'd crossed in the past. After a few minutes of urging, he still couldn't be persuaded to wet his feet, and I suggested to Chrissy that she come back across and we'd take the long way home. Dakota, however, had other ideas. He didn't care if UK was left behind, home was the opposite direction of his terrified comrade.
So suddenly we had two horses on opposite riverbanks, refusing to cross... (it sounds somewhat like the set up for a bad joke.)
A hiker showed up on the top of the hill behind UK and I, which seemed to make him realize that if something terrifying and horse eating were to show up, he'd be safer on the other side of the river with his buddy. Still shaking, he put his feet in the water.
I immediately praised him, and steered him to the break in the steep bank which was diagonally across the river, UK had other ideas. He charged, at a fast walk, sending water everywhere, to the nearest bank, which was two feet above the river and covered with trees. I grabbed mane as he scaled the bank, front feet on dry land, back still in the water. We were almost vertical, to the point that my saddle slid back (thank goodness I never trail ride without a breastplate!), and all I could see were trees and branches. UK hesitated, unsure about what to do with the situation he'd put himself in, I suggested turning and putting those front feet in the river, he did not like that suggestion at all. Instead of the logical solution, he opted for brute force and just shoved himself through the branches and saplings. I held onto mane, ducked my head and said a prayer, hoping he wouldn't slip and dump me in the river. (It's times like these that I desperately wish Jake was still alive so I could pony UK and let him see how these situations should actually be handled.)
We made it, but UK was a little traumatized, so nervous he was still shaking, and didn't want to stand still, or receive a treat. The further we got from the river, the calmer he got. Once sufficiently calmed, his ego began to show and suddenly I was mounted not on regular old UK, but UK the River Conqueror. It's very hard for me not to laugh at him when he gets like this, but manly pride is easily crushed, so I usually manage to restrain myself.
Dakota began to give Chrissy problems when we headed farther up the main trail instead of turning home, so UK got to do more ponying. The spillway didn't even get a glance from UK, who was apparently still the River Conqueror.
We solo trail rode that Friday, and had a good ride despite lots of dog encounters, including a loose dog with no owner in sight. Then on one of the warmer days I broke out the english tack for the first time since December and gave UK a real workout, complete with circles, bending, and lots of transitions work. Then I had Stef get on him, to help her prep for her lesson the next day (Stef has nice light hands, which is why I was certain UK would like her). She went from being extremely nervous to not wanting to get off, as after all his hard work he was just sort of flowing over the field and eager to please.
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| Stef on UK |
Riding UK solo has been a great deal of fun, mostly because just six months ago he wasn't able to handle it. I'm extremely proud of his progress! He's matured so much, finally actually acting his age instead of a greeny. He has confidence in himself now, which has given him the ability to trust me more in stressful situations, and just be happier overall. This happiness has made him look incredible, as he's nothing short of glowingly healthy now, all my extra feed and work having paid off.
Now I'll leave you with two pictures from our last ride. Boy does UK look good tacked western! (Okay, he looks good tacked in anything...)
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| Groomed to the nines and tacked up. |
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| At the end of our ride UK looks around. |
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