We Don't Deserve Horses

My big point-to-point ride at the end of last year through the Seneca Creek backcountry required a bit of logistical creativity. The plan was to drop the horse trailer at the end point and have a motorcycle available for the ride home. To make that work, the bike was loaded into the trailer, carefully secured, and then we took a test drive up and down the mountain to be sure everything was stable.

I even rode in the back of the trailer alongside the motorcycle so we could be absolutely certain it was secure and troubleshoot any issues in real time.

Now, I don’t know about y’all, but although I’ve often heard that riding in the horse compartment is a great way to understand what we put our animals through, I had never actually done it before.

It. Was. FASCINATING!

I came away with a much better understanding of how motion affects horses and how constantly they must adjust and brace themselves - something I knew, but experiencing it was so valuable. I also learned just how easily unsecured items - not the moto, it didn't budge an inch! - shift and create an ungodly racket. 

Holy hell.

One divider extender clicked relentlessly as we bumped down the gravel mountain road. When I put tension on the bars, the noise stopped—so I made a mental note to wrap it in paracord to create that same tension in the future. Any loose straps with metal fittings banged around if they weren’t properly fastened, and those got added to the fix-it list as well.

But more than the inner workings of the trailer clattering, the hanging tack on the shared wall between the tack room and the horse compartment was UNGODLY loud. Yes, the rough gravel road amplified everything, and I’m sure pavement would have softened the effect. But still. It wasn’t okay.

I could not believe my horses load into that trailer so willingly every single time, knowing that kind of noise is part of the experience. We truly do not deserve them. They are so, so good.

Once the test drive was over and the trailer was parked again, I went straight to the tack room to figure out a solution. It quickly became clear that with a bit of adhesive and some foam insulation, I could dampen most of the sound. Easy fix.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t time to complete the project before the point-to-point with Grif. For that trip, I simply moved the bridles, breastplates, and girths from the shared wall to the gooseneck area to minimize the noise.

Now, correlation doesn’t equal causation. There were other factors at play like recent, frequent travel that always helps with habituation and anxiety. But when we arrived at the drop-off for the ride, Grif was noticeably calmer and not sweaty at all from the trip. I know he has a strong aversion to certain  noises, and the tack banging against the wall was very similar to sounds that unsettle him. Whether the quieter ride directly caused his calmer demeanor or not, I’m confident it made the journey more pleasant.

In the weeks after that final ride, I stopped by Lowes and picked up about $25 worth of materials to permanently address the shared-wall noise. Once home, I cut the foam sheet to fit the wall panels where the tack hangs, cleaned the surfaces, applied adhesive, and pressed the foam into place. The entire process took less than half an hour.

I’m looking forward to the riding season ahead knowing my horses will travel in a much more peaceful space.

If you haven’t already, I highly recommend riding in the back of your own trailer sometime. Seeing, and hearing, the experience from their perspective is eye-opening. These animals give us so much. The least we can do is make their trailering journeys as comfortable as possible.

Icelandic Chaps

Happy New Year, all!

This is the third year I've taken ALL pressure to ride off myself for the 10 darkest weeks of the year (November 16 - January 25), and it's been wonderful. However, my motivation to get out and ride is returning with the slowly lengthening days, so I expect the blog will slowly come back to life as I have more to write about. 

In the mean time, I wanted to share a short, funny story from Iceland.

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After our week-long riding tour with Stóri Kambur, Siggi and Atli drove us back to the city to meet the bus and head to our next accommodations. Some folks took the bus straight to the airport, while others, Kate and I included, had a few extra days to spend in Reykjavík and the Golden Circle. We stayed for three days, soaking it all in. 

As I briefly mentioned in the caption of an older post, I got very drunk on Icelandic “burning wine” our final night at Stóri Kambur. The following morning brought the worst hangover I’d had since June 2018. It was wretched. While I thankfully avoided the vertigo that plagued me in 2018, the nausea was intense, making for a very long drive from Snæfellsnes to Reykjavík.

I was back in the truck with Kate, Jacqueline, Tanja, and Siggi, the same group from our drive out to Stóri Kambur at the beginning of the week. After seven days together, they could all tell how miserable I felt by how uncharacteristically quiet I was.

Eventually, Siggi drew me into conversation about all things horses and Iceland, which helped distract me as the miles and hours passed. 

One of the topics that came up was the stunning custom leather chaps worn by all of our guides. It turns out Siggi works with a local leather worker who makes them and handles much of the tack used by his herd. I mentioned how much I’d love a pair, but wasn’t sure the timing was right and worried I wouldn’t get enough use out of them back home due to our increasingly long, hot, humid summers (ugh).

Siggi, undeterred, did not take my uncertainty as a no. At our next pit stop, he called the leather worker. By the time we climbed back into the truck, Siggi informed me that the leather worker could see me that day and that after dropping everyone else at the bus stop, he would take Kate and me to his workshop. From there, he would drop us at our guesthouse just up the hill.

Thank goodness for that, because my hungover self was not looking forward to schlepping my luggage uphill in any capacity.

And so Kate and I found ourselves zipping through Reykjavík in Siggi’s giant F350 Super Duty, headed to a leather worker who operated out of his home.

Siggi and the leather worker chatted in Icelandic while Kate and I admired the many beautiful wares on display. Before long, Siggi helped broker a deal, my measurements were taken, and the leather worker promised to have my custom chaps completed by that evening within four to five hours. He offered to meet me in town so I could try them on, and if any adjustments were needed, he would fix them and bring them back the next day.

We agreed he would meet me in Reykjavík either before or after our 7:00 p.m. dinner reservation with a few other riders from the trip.

With the deal done and payment exchanged, Siggi dropped us off at our guesthouse, where we rested before heading out to dinner.

Shortly after we were seated at the restaurant, I received a call from an unfamiliar number. Expecting the leather worker, I answered. Sure enough, it was him. He was already on his way to meet me at the guesthouse. The whole dinner reservation detail had been lost in translation earlier. Whoops.

With his broken English and my complete lack of Icelandic, we fumbled through a conversation trying to redirect him to the sushi restaurant downtown. Eventually, I had to hand my phone to the hostess because I couldn’t pronounce the name of the street we were on.

It took about 15 to 20 minutes to sort out. During that time, I stood outside on a narrow sidewalk along a one-way street, chuckling at how ridiculous and wonderful this story was becoming, while scanning for a jeep-like car.

Finally, I spotted him. I waved and smiled, and he pulled up, stopped right in the middle of the street, smiled back, and hopped out to make sure the chaps fit.

Yes, he stopped his car in the middle of a semi-busy one-way street in downtown Reykjavík to put full leather chaps on a random woman from the U.S. An absolute sight.

He gave a few tugs to the chaps once they were zipped and looked them over with a professional eye before asking me if they felt right. I beamed at him and confirmed that they were perfect. 

After exchanging apologies for the miscommunication and excessive gratitude on my part for his willingness to deliver them into town, we said goodbye. He jumped back into his car and drove off before too many drivers were stuck waiting behind him.

I unzipped the chaps, folded them up, and headed back into the restaurant, where four very giggly horse ladies were eagerly waiting to see them and hear the full story of my impromptu street fitting.

Only in Iceland.

In the end, I'm so very happy with my decision to get these chaps. I wore them all fall and they kept me warm, waterproof, and protected from thick brush on my trail riding adventures. I look forward to a lifetime wearing them. 

Honestly impressed they fit so easily over these wide leg pants

The photo Kate took and sent to our Stori Kambur group chat for all of the week's participants to see and celebrate