Griffin, a Pusher grandson?

All horses other than Griffin are direct sons of The Pusher, a popular TWH stallion who is known to throw his chrome and strange white flecked markings to his youngsters.  I was really struck by these horses, first because of their markings, and then because of their facial expressions that were so much like Griffin.

Griffin is supposedly ½ TWH, ½ Arabian.  I'm thinking there is a strong possibility his grandsire may have been Pusher if this is truly the case - we will never know.  So, what do you speculate??

Back in action!

Because Chris is brilliant, I have internet on my desktop (where all the photo editing software is, not to mention the 20" screen).  So my posts can be exciting with media again!  Hooah!

Have some videos and photos!  ...from my phone.

Griffin's still too little for the pack saddle

14hh and quite butt high; he turns two on July 26

The following two videos are Q and I doing a mini jump complemented by Chris' commentary in the first...

 I've got loads more videos of Q jumping, but I'll save them for a rainy day.

Today she and I did 6 miles at a walk, and then A came out to help us with our jumping some more - mostly she misses jumping and Q is the best thing around here she has available to play with. 

She we had Q going over 18" vertical by the end of the session.  A gave me a flat lesson making me focus on things and kicking my butt a little.  Then I jumped my little pony over the same things she'd jumped her over - biggest for me on this horse yet! 

Q is so eager and happy to jump.  It makes me so happy to have such a versatile horse.

Additionally, after her semi-strenuous jumping workout I remembered to get her heart rate after 10 minutes of her walking out/standing around cooling.  It was a 66 bpm.  Not too shabby.  Ideally it will go down more with more work, but for not having a ton of work on her, and today being in the 90s with high humidity, I'm pretty happy with that.  Its a great starting point for our endurance.

Okay, its wedding season and I'm off and away to photograph!  Hope everyone is staying cool as possible and far away from flames! 

20 mile training ride

Last Sunday I went on a 20 mile training ride with the only endurance rider in my area.  It was incredible!

She’s traveled all around the country and has even been to Europe to race during her career.  She’s raced her own horses and those of others.  She repeatedly has top finishes and best condition awards.  And, to top it off, for the past few years she’s had barefoot horses.  No boots, just barefoot. 

She’s put up with a lot of opposition for barefooted horses at certain rides – and she won’t hesitate to shoe if a ride is particularly gnarly – but where vets and others would have seen her fail at some rides in the past, she pushed onward and ended up winning and getting best condition with her horses.  Pretty crazy, but really amazing.  I can’t imagine standing up to opposition like that at first.  Its really cool to know someone that did.

I learned a lot from her on our ride.  A lot.

She confirmed a lot of things I’d only been able to read about, and I learned that a lot of what I’m doing is exactly right (or at least they’re things she’s done and had great success with).  Its nice to know I’m approaching things in a good way – especially as such a beginner.

The horse I rode was a 10 year old non-papered Arabian she’s training for a friend in Venezuela, Shasta.  He’s ~15hh and has a lot of get up and go.  Her ride is a 7 year old Arabian, Eagle, who has even more get up and go.

Shasta trips a lot on his walk/trot transitions and has the slowest walk I’ve ever experienced outside a trained western pleasure horse.  His preference is for cantering/galloping – and boy can he ever!  I never put him into a full gallop, but riding such a made horse was a lot of fun.

Trotting was ~9-10 mph pace, and our cantering segments were ~20 mph.  We used the first and last miles of our 20 to walk and get warmed up cooled down (it was a 96+° day with high humidity) and to get to and from the rail trail.  For the 18 middle miles (all on a relatively flat path) we averaged 9.6 mph and when cantering were hitting our ~20mph benchmark.  Pretty incredible!

I rode in one of her Boz saddles.  Other than not being used to a pommel of that size, it was really comfortable for me.  I can see why so many love them, though I'm not sure its something I could end up with in the long run because of that pommel - I'd have to adjust my riding style to accommodate it.

After our ride she complimented me multiple times on how well I rode and how nice it was to ride with someone who really knew what they were doing.  Additionally, she hopes I'll be able to go to some races with her this fall!  WHAT FUN!  50s mostly, but she did mention the distinct possibility of a 100 in November sometime.  Oh dear goodness!  

After our 20 mi ride, I realized how out of shape I am.  When I trained Stan 5 years ago I got in shape as I got him in shape - just jumping on a made horse and trying to keep up was rough.  If I were to race with her this fall I will definitely have to work on myself!  Fortunately Q's workouts will be more steady and slowly increasing in time/distance/difficulty over the next few months, so that will help.  (Not being in the stinky hot and on a continuous flat with my body constantly in the same position will also help...)

Overall, an incredible experience and I can't wait for more like it.  I'm so excited to work on myself and work on my own horse (who I was assured, yet again, looks like a very good endurance prospect! - it means so much more coming from such an accomplished rider, though.).  Bring on the fall.  =)

OH, additionally...I need your help, endurance/LD riders!  I'm going to join AERC in the next few days - is there any benefit to doing the extra $20 liability/insurance thing??  Thanks in advance!

WW: Kenai and Brownie on the AT

I survived Exit 451 (Part III)

I whooped.  I’d done it.  I’d made it. 

I walked into camp to find that only Tom, Missy and Lucy (who was already asleep) were there.  They couldn’t believe that we’d made it.  They were convinced we would have stayed at the top.  (We couldn’t because we had no food, no sleeping gear, and, though fortunately not important, no first aid kit.)

In the off chance we would show up they had prepped sleeping areas for everyone and had made dinner (which they’d already pulled up the bear cables, but quickly brought down and reheated for us).

I sat the first chance I got after searching to find that while my sleeping things had made it, my clothing had not.  Drat it to hell.

The four of us, with the help of Tom and Missy stumbled around getting our animals taken care of.  I became useless pretty quick as my feet deteriorated further.  I gave in and sat to eat a little while trying to nurse them best I could.

As we all got some food in us, spirits raised and stories started up as we relived the day.

: : : : :

Wag joked about how Melinda (who is his fiancée) was out of the saddle for the umpteenth time fixing packs/clearing trail/etc. during the trip she’d snapped at him to, “Watch it, I’m in a mood!”  To which he responded, “Wanna fool around?”  And she snapped, “Not that kind of mood!” 

At another point in their journey, when she was trying to navigate back up the trail from adjusting something with one of their pack horses I guess Wag heard her muttering under her breath, “This is it!  Today has been two trips.  The first and the last.” 

And I guess when we were completely in the dark on the way back, pre-flash light Melinda kept asking him to use one, and he kept saying no.  And finally he gave in and told her if she wanted to get one out she could, to which she responded, “I’d really rather NOT see what the trail looks like right now.” 

But then she decided to get off and walk the remainder when we reached one of the stream crossings.  Supposedly she walked off not wanting to let Hov’s white cowboy hat out of her sight and left Wag at the stream.  He said he was sitting there talking away and then, “Melinda…?  Hello?  Anyone…?”  We’d all left him.

I joked with everyone that packers need a flippin’ reality show.  I mean come on, we’ve got Ice Road Truckers.  How about Single Track Packers?  There could be drama about how shitty the trail was, and who’s horses and mules were better.  Then we could have play-by-play commentary when a horse fell off the side of the mountain, “Oooh, and there she goes.  She’s rolling down, down, down!  Oh, oh!  She’s stopped at that…nope, she’s rolling again.  That’s gonna hurt in the morning!”  See?!  Lots of potential for a reality show!!

: : : : :

After a good night’s sleep and some food the next morning – because we did have the kitchen with us thankfully – Tom and Hov headed out to retrieve the saddle and packs that Mark left when he took his injured horse out.  The rest of us prepped the other animals to leave.

Will Black and Ernest in the foreground; other campers horses to the left

Glorious, glorious camp (getting packed up).  It was SO nice to have this set up when we arrived.

Looking a little worse for the wear...both of us.

The 5 or so miles out went without incident.

 : : : : :

We came to discover that Mark’s horse was fine other than three major lacerations.  One near her stifle, one on her shoulder, and the worst one over her eye.  Lots of stitches were required, and her eye ended up swollen shut for a bit, but she was going to be okay.  If she’d been packing a lumber load or the kitchen boxes, she may not have fared so well.  Fortunately she had soft, but heavy loads.

Nancy, who fell off in the beginning ended up having multiple fractured vertebrae and some of the gnarliest bruising I’ve ever seen on her right tricep, right hamstring, and entire lower back.  She looked like she’d been in a car wreck.  She has to take it easy for awhile, but escaped with only a one night stay in the hospital (which included ICU) and no back brace requirements.  She was very lucky.

: : : : :

I was very rattled and beyond humbled by the end of the whole trip.  It took a lot for me to push through and complete that first day.  We ended up doing ~30 miles in that first day, ~9 miles of it on foot, ~5 of those miles in the dark, and about half of those miles were without a flashlight.  (As a kid I was very afraid of the dark and for the longest time I slept with a light on.  I was convinced some animal would come out of the woods and attack me through my window.  Walking without a flashlight in the dark as I did brought all those fears back for a time and it took a lot for me to push them away.  I'm definitely stronger for it now, but those few miles were some of the scariest for me.)

I mustered up the strength to drive home that day, which was a good thing as my feet were worse than I anticipated.  The entire bottom of my left heel was a blister; I had two quarter+ sized blisters on each of my arches, and a nickel sized one on my left foot below my big toe.  I could barely walk the first morning.

Disgusting, I know.  One up by my toe is the same size or bigger than these two & the one on the bottom of my heel isn't even worth discussing.

Being home a day sooner and having the drive time and home time to think about everything that had happened was good for me.  I left really rattled, but am now at terms with everything that happened. 

I recognize the importance of preparing and planning ahead.  I see where we made mistakes.  I understand why things happened the way they did.  I know now, for a later time, how to prevent things like that from happening again.

It was a crazy, beautiful, scary experience.  I learned so much and I came out a better person for it all.  I haven’t been so challenged in a really long time.  I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

I survived Exit 451.

I survived Exit 451 (Part II)

With a shout, rustling tumbles, and crashing, I turned quickly in the saddle to look behind me.  The sight I saw was not what I ever expected to see.

Mark’s pack horse was tumbling over and over down the steep left slope.  Over and over she went through the rhodo and shrubs.  She bounced off trees, stalling at some, only to struggle to rise and tumble down further.

Confusion, fear, and shouting followed.

My adrenaline immediately sky-rocketed.  My hands tightened on my reins and my left spur crept into Will’s side to encourage him to not take any foul steps in the down hill direction.  In heightened fear of him falling I recognized that I needed to calm myself if I wanted to prevent him from becoming upset.  I had no idea how he and the other animals would react to one of their own taking such a huge fall – one that may be ending in fatal injury.

Hov shouted for me to continue to a place to better secure our animals.  I moved forward several hundred feet.  The trail didn’t improve.  The best I could do was a place with some large trees blocking a fall from the downhill side.  I dismounted and stood on the uphill.  Hov dismounted and secured his animals and walked back to help.  Missy dismounted behind him and waited with me.

We could hear raised voices, the rustle and cracking of vegetation and frightened whinnies from behind us around a slight curve in the trail. 

Missy and I talked quietly.  Nonsensical small talk and sharing of stories mostly to get our minds off what had happened, but inevitably we wondered what was going on.  Was the horse okay?  What would this mean for the trip?  Would these trails get any better?

I kept asking her questions as to what was happening as her vantage point was a bit better than mine.  It was 5 to 10 minutes before Tom came up the trail within ear shot.  I passed word through Missy that I had injectible Banamine somewhere in my saddle bags that Lucy had included in case of a fatal injury since firearms weren’t permitted in the park. 

Tom said he didn’t think the horse needed it.  I sighed in relief.

“How is she then?” I queried.  He said that she was standing and was okay, but was cut up pretty bad in several places.  There was a lot of blood.  My heart quickened again.  Tom walked back down the trail to continue helping.

A few minutes more passed.  Hov came back up the trail.  He said the horse would be okay, but wouldn’t be continuing.  Mark would take her out and get vet help.  He advised the others to turn around and go back to the drop point where a camp was and he and I would continue to the top.  He said he’d have done it by himself, but he didn’t think his horse would go without Will Black, his pasture mate.

So it was settled, he and I would ride ahead, drop the stuff, tell the others waiting at the top what had happened, and then turn around and come back to the drop point camp for the night and leave tomorrow.

At this point I’m calm, but only because I have to be for the horses.  Deep in the back of my mind my thoughts are racing with fear.

I mount back up and give Will all cues to stay RIGHT and not get anywhere near that left hand side.  I wasn’t worried about either of the mules Hov and I were pulling.  Mules are sure-footed sons of bitches.  If anything, I was pondering why the hell I wasn’t riding a mule.  A horse seemed so inferior at this point.

We continued on the trail upward winding through several intermittent streams as we rose up.  The condition of the trail didn’t improve at all.  While my reins were loose, my stay-on-the-uphill-side cues were applied and my hands were gripped white-knuckled around the reins.  My body was calm.  All cues I could give to the horse to upset him or worry him were as calm as I could feasibly get them, but my mind was still racing.

: : : : :

Hov and I had a quiet ride, each of us lost in our own thoughts.

With time we made it to the AT.  I gave a whoop of excitement.  We turned left and continued, now along a heavily wooded ridgeline.  This was a big improvement in my mind and I started to settle down, but I was still very much alert.

Pulling Ernest behind me; this was somewhere before Sierra tumbled down the mountain

The weather was nicer up here already.  Not so humid and quite a bit breezier.  The vegetation had changed from a primarily deciduous forest, to a more coniferous one.  The scent of red spruce and other conifers never ceases to calm me.  Its one of my favorite smells and brings about a wealth of positive memories.

The AT was steep and by large the rockiest trail I’d ever ridden on.  I remarked to Hov, “Creek bed, trail, pff, same thing!”  I fall back on my snarky nature in times of stress.  Its just what I do.  I need to find reasons to laugh; it tricks my head into calming down.

We continued onward without incident other than slowness from the rough terrain.  I enjoyed the views, kept my keep-to-the-uphill cues going for Will in the narrow drop off sections, and watched listened to the wealth of high elevation bird species and plant life(because I’m a nature nerd like that).

: : : : :

Finally, many miles and hours later, we arrived at the drop point.  It was 6:30p.

Wag and Melinda were there unloading.  They were just as exhausted as we were and not overly thrilled to hear that they would HAVE to go back down now.  They had planned to tell us when we all arrived that they wouldn’t be going down, ain’t no way, ain’t no how.

Amidst joking at our misfortune, we unloaded what we’d brought and loaded another pack our helpers had brought for Vetice.  The helpers took off ahead of us on their fast gaited/racking horses and we followed a little ways after.

Hov and I were all about letting our horses truck ahead full steam in the home ward direction as long as they had the gusto to go.  My mule wasn’t as thrilled, but kept up better than he had during the first half.  Wag and Melinda weren’t far behind.  We covered in an hour what had taken us 1h:40m to do before. 

Where the trail became very rocky Hov and I both dismounted and decided to walk the rest of the trail.  Wag had sprained his ankle a day or so prior and didn’t have this option, and Melinda decided to ride, too. 

I decided at this point, as I hiked along skidding over rocks and doing all I could do not to twist my ankle or fall (or let Will Black walk over top of me – bad manners!) that the Man from Snowy River ain’t got shit on us. 

: : : : :

In sum, it took 1h:40m to get off the AT and back onto the Big Creek section of trail.  It was 8:43p by this point, and it would become truly dark around 9:30-9:45p.  We probably hiked 4 or 5 miles of the Big Creek trail before it got truly dark. 

By this point I was leading his riding horse, Captain, because Will Black had nearly knocked me over a half dozen times.  Will and Ernest mule were attached.  The order was like this: me leading Cap, Doc mule following loose behind, Hov leading Will and Ernest mule, Melinda riding, Wag riding and pulling his two behind.

Once I had the flashlight I felt a little better.  Hiking in my cowboy boots wasn’t ideal.  I could feel blisters beginning to form by the time we’d finished the AT section.  It was funny how my thoughts of sitting around eating and talking with friends when we made it to camp, changed to how thirsty and hungry I was, changed to how ready I was to be done, changed to how much my feet hurt, changed to fuck, my feet really hurt, changed to my feet are killing me but I can’t stop must.get.to.camp.

Stumbling sight unseen on that trail for the time I did without a flashlight was a big thing for me to do.  I was so nervous and scared through each step of that narrow trail.  Cap wouldn’t get off my butt, but wasn’t being as bad as Will had been.

I was aware horses have very good night vision compared to us, and that they would be just fine walking along, but I was still rattled from watching Mark’s horse tumble down, down, down.

I was reliving the scene in my mind as we came upon the place where she had gone over the edge.  Hov had warned the trail was particularly soft there.  I didn’t yet have a flashlight, but could sense that the trail had changed a bit.  I became even more cautious than I already was.  Then Cap started blowing and snorting. 

I noticed the pack saddle and pad lying ahead on the uphill side of the tiny trail.  I called back to Hov to let him know.  I then proceeded cautiously, talking as calmly as I could to Cap to get him by.  I fell over twice, on the uphill side thankfully, but made it by without major incident.  Doc was very spooked though and came speeding up on us startling Cap.

Doc rammed I into Cap’s butt, almost pushing him off the trail, then went uphill and passed around us (how the hell?!) and continued for a few feet down the trail before turning in fright and running back at Cap and ramming into him from the front while I held onto the lead in fright.  Doc stopped – miraculously – perched precariously on the downhill drop off.  Damned mules and their suction cup traction, it was incredible.

I managed to get Cap around Doc and have Doc continue to follow behind.  We continued for a little more before Hov let me get out a flashlight, with the warning to not shine it anywhere in the direction of the horses, only in front of me to see as it would ruin the horse’s night vision.  He cautioned me to turn it off if the horse had an issue.

While the flashlight calmed me some, it didn’t help me walk much better.  Cap was still kicking my ass in that department.  I still continued to stumble as I tried my damndest to remember pieces of the trail to judge how far from camp I was.  At some point near the end, Captain gave up on me being a pathetic little two-legged being and decided there was no rush and it would be good to just stop and eat, randomly jerking the lead out of my hand.

I was singing 4-H camp songs aloud to myself at this point to distract my mind from my feet and the distance.  As I finished with the fast ones I could recollect and started into a slow song, I saw lights.

To be continued…

I survived Exit 451 (Part I)

This story has been one of the hardest things for me to recollect on and write about.  I want to include as much detail as I can so I can look back on it and continue to learn from the mistakes that happened.  It’s a bit of a hard story to tell right now, as I’m still a little rattled, but I want to get it out while its fresh.  I can definitely say that I have learned more than I ever imagined I would, and I have been very humbled from this whole experience.  Despite everything, I wouldn’t have traded it for anything.

: : : : :

Front L-R: Lucy, Wag, Melinda, Missy, Christine; Back L-R: Vetice, Mark, Tom, Hov, Gini, Me (and Duke)

“I survived Exit 451 [baby!]” started as a drunken quote on week one of my Smoky Mountain experience.  By the time the pack trip rolled around, however, it became quite a reality.

The weekend prior to our trip most folks were elsewhere prepping in one way or another for a return to camp for a few days deep in the woods atop a mountain with our animals.  The ultimate goal was to get the lumber and pipes for the hitching racks packed 17 miles (up, up, up) into the Smoky Mountains hereafter GSMNP [Great Smoky Mountain Nat’l Park]) to the Appalachian Trail (AT) Tri Corner Knob shelter.  We would be traveling 17 miles the first day to reach Tri Corner Knob.  We would then stay two nights up there with the down day in between used to install the hitching rails and the third day to travel back.

View of Smokies from the AT crossing Max Patch

Only 35 miles of the AT is open to horseback riding.  These 35 miles are unconnected segments, but they all occur within GSMNP.  Local riders and packers very much enjoy and treasure the access they have to the trail. Due to strict Nat’l Park Service rules, however, they need a hitching rail to best avoid breaking any rules.  The former hitching rail had been broken up by AT hikers and burned (seriously?!).

Sunday evening our group re-convened at the campsite to begin prepping for our early morning departure on Monday.  We gathered personal gear and camping gear into piles to be mantied up in preparation for packing on the horses the next day.  In total we had 11 riders, 9 pack stock, and 4 other riders who were meeting at various points along the trek to take out pack horses we no longer needed to abide by the Park rules concerning # of people/stock in one place at a time.

Photo by Christine

Gear was packed and prepped Sunday night in time enough for us to settle into some campfire down time once more before bed and an early start.  Everyone’s spirits were pretty high with anticipation and excitement about the journey.  Half of us were new to it, and the majority of us were new to the Smokies.

: : : : :

Both alarms I’d set for Monday morning failed, but fortunately, thanks to the other lady sleeping in the “bungalow” with me, I arose around 6a.  I ended up only being 15 minutes late for breakfast.  Once fed we all began to gather and prepare first riding horses then pack horses. 

My ride, Will Black

Mark on Odie pulling Sierra

Hov on Captain pulling Doc

Getting all stock saddled took awhile.  Our 9a departure time was creeping ever closer and packs weren’t even on the pack stock yet!  We needed to get out as early as possible because stock travels at ~3mph.   A 9a departure would mean that – with the inevitable breaks that would occur factored in – we wouldn’t arrive at our destination until around 5p or so.

Time ticked onward and we continued to prep each animal and person for the journey.  We ended up getting on the trail at 10:30a – not the most promising of starts, but we were off all the same. 

Tom in foreground riding Jazz pulling Pete and Bud, Missy next in line riding Breezy pulling Super Sport

Everyone was pretty jazzed and the horses cued in on that energy – much like the start of an endurance race! – and skittered around the road that we had to travel on for 0.6 miles before reaching the trail.  Nancy’s horse, borrowed from a friend, was particularly wired, and Christine had already stepped off her Arabian gelding to walk him for awhile because he was so cued up.  (The three of us + Lucy were the only ones not pulling pack stock at the time.) I was busy snapping pictures while I knew I had the time and worked on moving my way from the back to the front of the line, not paying heavy attention to anyone or any animal other than to make a safe pass to the front.

I reached the turnoff for the trail access to turn around to speak to Gini only to see Nancy’s horse go screaming by me riderless.  Well, shit.  With quick confirmation shouted up the line of pack horses and people that Nancy was standing and was “okay” I shot off after the horse.

My horse, Will Black, was a 10 year old TWH.  He’d been a pet for the first 8 years of his life and wasn’t put under saddle until he was 8.  He had a number of manners issues and really loved to walk the edge of roads and trails, but other than that he wasn’t a bad horse at all.  He had his moments, but overall was very forward moving and eager on the trail.  (Oh, and for the hoof nerds, we wore Renegades for the whole trip!)

I moved him forward and the loose horse kept going.  I never found out if she was familiar with the area, but she sure seemed to be.  She shot through the day-parking area, onto the trailhead, past the non-horse camping, and made it to the trailhead (0.3 mile or so) before slowing.  There was a Park employee weed-eating around the day-parking for non-horse folks – if it weren’t for him I truly believe the horse would have continued upward onto the trail.

Thanks to the distraction of the weed-eater, I was able to grab her and pony her back.  I found Gini, Tom, and Hov awaiting me, but the rest of the group had disappeared (Wag and Melinda were far, far ahead of the group with their two pack horses as they were originally going to travel 30 miles the first day to help our group abide by Park rules).

I gave a quizzical look to the three of them as I rode up, and could hear and see movement through the trees around the bend of the road indicating that the rest of the group was there.  I was told by Hov, “Nancy’s okay, but she’s got a huge hematoma on her upper arm.”  Well, I thought, not too bad.  But I still pondered that such a bruise had come about so quickly and wondered to myself if she hadn’t broken the arm and was too hyped up to tell.

The group slowly reconvened at the same place.  Christine and Nancy were already walking back to basecamp and Lucy came to pony back Nancy’s horse.  They would meet us later after they checked Nancy out.

: : : : :

The seven of us with seven pack stock continued.

Its important to note that of all the pack stock on the trip, only three were mules (known for their sure-footedness).  The others were all horses.  Wag’s two horses (way ahead of the rest of the gang) and the three mules were experienced packers, but the rest of the stock were green.

The first 5 or so miles of the trail went fairly smoothly.  There were a few stops due to loose EasyBoots and a rock in a shoe, but other than that, no problem.  Then Hov and Gini, leading us, stop and call me forward.  “We forgot the valve for the stove.  We won’t be able to cook without it.  Do you think you can ride back and get it?” they ask me.  I ponder a second and respond with, “If I had a different horse, yes, but I don’t trust Will to go and come in a safe manner.”  His two pasture mates would remain while he would have to leave, he was already being a bit of a handful because of his manners issues, and frankly, I didn’t know the trails well enough to trust myself to guide said-green/cranky horse back to the group.  Oh, and Will can be pretty damn lazy (I rode with blunt spurs to try to conquer this).

Gini and Hov pausing to check the balance of the mules' loads

So, instead, Gini volunteered to go back.  Her borrowed horse, a 17hh TWH, wasn’t with any horses he knew and could move out really well.  She turned and headed back, and I took over pulling her mule.

A short time after she’d left, we reached the drop point for some of our gear.  The logistics behind what needed dropped where and who needed to double and triple back and around on the trails in order to abide by Park standards was outrageous.  I’m pretty sure I never again want to do a ride of this caliber in a Nat’l Park setting.  Eee gads!

We grabbed lunch after we dropped a couple loads and then headed onward – I was now in the lead.  Will Black was a happier lead horse for his two pasture mates (ridden and pulled by Hov) and they were happier following him. 

Not long after we left the drop point, we encountered a downed log (which I later came to find out that Wag and Melinda had to wrangle to get to the point that it could be stepped over).  It was at a 45⁰ angle with the lowest part slightly off the trail.  By this point the trail had become a single track.  The whole time to this point we’d been following alongside Big Creek and the trail would alternate from being right beside the creek to being many feet above it with steep, steep drop offs to one side down to the creek.

Due to the drop off factor, crossing the log was a little harder than it could have been.  The drop off wasn’t more than 3 feet here, but still not ideal.  Will Black and my mule got over it just fine.  Hov’s horse and mule, too.  Missy, following behind on her 3 year old Friesian/TWH had difficulty.  Hov and I stopped.  He secured his animals and went back to help get the horses over the log.  It took some doing, but eventually they got over.

I was sitting in my lead position, trying to get Will Black and my mule to stand politely while watching all of this.  Once she was over I quit watching quite as interested, but still observed while the others crossed.  Tom and the mule he was pulling got over fine, but when his 4 year old horse he was pulling went to go over, he fell over the bank onto his side.

Shit.

The horse floundered about like a turtle on its back due to the heavy packs.  I lost sight of it while I tried to wrangle my animals into polite submission, but by the time I’d turned around the animal was standing, pack attached, and all was well.  The other two riders and stock crossed without incident.

We hadn’t gotten far down the trail before Tom’s horse’s load tipped and needed to be fixed and adjusted.  We got ‘er done and continued on, though we were very much behind schedule by this point.

We continued for probably another mile.  The trail had become very narrow.  The hill sloped steeply up on the right and steeply down on the left.  There wasn’t much room for error if a foot was ill-placed. 

I was plodding along in the front, doing my best to keep Will Black’s edge walking tendencies to a minimum as there was the tiniest of edge on the 2 foot-wide trail and I didn’t really have any kind of death wish.  I remember noticing how thick the rhododendron was through the area here, and how steeply down that drop off was, and how there weren’t really many trees to stop a tumble, and how I really didn’t want to go down there, and how I really hoped the trail would widen soon.  I didn’t realize at the time that my worries could come to fruition. 

To be continued…

Home again

I made it home.  I actually made it home a day earlier than anticipated. 

Things didn't go quite as planned with the pack trip.

I took a few hours yesterday to type up the whole thing so I can remember and learn from it.  I'll be bringing the story to the blog in three parts.

It was tough to write up.  I've only fully hashed it out verbally to one person.  I'm not quite sure I could do it many more times.  Its not easy to tell right now.

I'm recovering and well though.

Memories like the below photo are what made the trip unbelieveable. 

Phenomenal new friends.
Phenomenal new experiences.
Phenomenal memories to last a lifetime.

Laughing our asses off as we try to get into the "jacuzzi".

WW: My Smoky Mtn. Mounts

11hh

17hh

Missing my horses

I miss these sweet faces...

Can you tell who's needy and who's not?  Hope my little grey is growing lots in my absence.  Additionally, not the greatest of shots, but I made both their halters.  Thinking about mass making halters here very soon to sell at our endurance ride and to others if they're interested!

: : : : :

Additionally...Griffin is supposedly half TWH half Arab - which makes him 100% awesome.  What do you think about this TWH's markings and color compared to my little guy?!

That hip is a bit different - and I swear I'm gonna try to get a better conformation shot of Color before I leave - but seriously, first horse I've seen with markings and color like Griffin. 

Color is a TWH.  He's gaited.  A direct son of The Pusher.  The folks who have Color looked at photos of my Griffin and videos of him moving and think there is a high likelihood of Griffin being a grandson (or maybe a son - though why someone would pay big bucks to breed a non TWH mare to a fancy TWH stud makes no sense, so I highly doubt that).  Supposedly the trait Pusher throws that people want is grey coloring with that blaze and the tall white stockings.  Additionally, the strange front sock with a dot around the knee is common.

I'm more than aware that color isn't everything and could mean nothing.  But the head shape and facial expressions Color makes are so like my little Griffin!  Griffin just has a little bit more of a refined head.  Shorter backed, too.  A conformation comparison of photos of the two would help to make further determinations. 

It makes me excited to think that Griffin may not have a total train wreck of a pedigree though.  He's a phenomenal little horse so far.  He's got a lot of potential and I'll love him no matter what.  But I'd honestly written him off as far as chances that he could have any past greats in his blood.  I reckon he's my lucky pick from a bad situation.  You know, maybe something like the Eighty Dollar Champion?  I can hope.  ;-)

Packing, Decker-style

The Decker system of pack saddles was developed in the early 1900s in north-central Idaho.  Prior to Decker packing there was the sawbuck method.  The Decker system brings more durability, versatility, and a greater humane nature for the animal because it can be packed more balanced.  The system is fully adjustable for different sized animals and allows for loads to be more dynamic so the animals can breathe easier.

© Liz Stout

© Liz Stout

A pack animal should be able to optimally carry a fifth of their body weight.  Because the Decker system is so versatile many things can be packed.  Bob has designed many different boxes that fit different tools (chainsaws, axes, etc.), propane tanks, and other oddities.  Paniers allow gravel and mulch to be packed which aids in the building and reinforcement of trails.  Additionally, lumber can be packed with the aid of a lumber bunk to the saddle.  Bob has also packed a multitude of strange items like wheelbarrows, galvanized steel tubs, and even coolers of trout to be packed to the headwaters of a trout stream.

© Liz Stout

© Liz Stout

© Liz Stout

Once a saddle has been fitted to the animal in question, loads must be assembled in a balanced fashion.  From there, a 7' x 8' untreated canvas sheet (manty) is used to wrap up the loads and is secured with a rope that has an eyesplice at one end and a backsplice at the other.  Once loads are mantied up and tied, they can then be tied to the saddle with a basket, barrel, or box hitch.

© Liz Stout

© Liz Stout

It all sounds pretty daunting, but its really not too bad.  Its definitely something that requires a bit of time and a lot of hands-on learning.

I'm a bit of a neat-freak so when I folded my manties I was rather anal about how they had to be.  Bob can fold one up in 1m:27s - but he's been doing it for 42 years, so its only to be expected.  I think I did mine in 4m:16s when I had to "race".  I don't really care how fast I do it as long as I do it right.  I know I will get faster with time.

© Liz Stout

© Liz Stout

Monday morning - Wednesday will be the real test of knowledge as we pack up 8 animals to head into the backcountry.  I'm very excited.  Lots of interesting photos to follow!

Leave No Trace

***See *updated* packing photos below!***

I had a different childhood than most.  I chose backpacking and other outdoors opportunities over things like sports.  I grew up in an outdoors atmosphere surrounded by people who had years and years of experience.  Taking different approaches to have a minimal an impact on the wilderness as possible was second hat for me.  It just seemed like the thing to do if I wanted to be able to enjoy the outdoors for years to come and help others to experience it, too.  Why ruin a good thing and make it so that others may not have the same opportunities to enjoy nature the way I do?

Unfortunately this way of thinking isn't second hat for everyone.  Many are ignorant about how their actions are affecting the world around them.  They don't understand how trash, pollution, and removing parts of a food chain have huge effects.  They can't see "the big picture".

As a stock user and an avid outdoors person, the Leave No Trace Trainer and Master Educator courses with an emphasis on stock in the backcountry seemed like a logical choice for me.  I really didn't understand when I was signing up quite what I was getting into.  But I really enjoyed what I learned and that I now have the ability to pass this training on to others who are interested (we will be having the same courses I took + packing + a pack trip in WV next summer for anyone interested!).

• I have learned the importance of camping and traveling on durable surfaces to prevent new trails and trail widening (thus stopping vegetation from growing and further fragmenting the habitat of our wildlife); 
• I've learned how to have a campfire that has very little impact on the environment (the only impact being the wood that is burned - no sterilization of the ground); 
• I've learned how to properly tie my horses to prevent damage to tree limbs, bark, and roots; 
• I've learned methods of explaining to non-stock(horse) users on trails how to cope around horses that pass them and why it is important (most don't understand the flight mechanism of horses); 
• I've learned how to help prevent/minimize the spread of invasive/non-native plant species by cleaning truck and trailer/brushing out manes and tails before and after visiting a new area; 
• and, here's the kicker, to help the aesthetics of our trailheads and campsites, I've learned to not clean out my trailer when I get to the campground, but to put manure back in the trailer and take it home to dispose of it in a better place.

A lot of these things are common sense.  But sometimes you have to teach common sense before it can sink in and be obvious.

: : : : :

Stock users and trail riders get a VERY bad rep most everywhere we ride that is a public multi-use trail.  If we want to KEEP riding and camping in these places we need to be careful to be more respectful of other users and of the land we're using.

This doesn't mean you have to pick up every turd your horse drops on the trail.  It doesn't mean you have to pick up everyone's trash all the time.  It doesn't mean you have to preach your  way of mind to everyone you pass.

It means you need to be AWARE.  You need to be aware of your actions and how they may be viewed by others.  You need to lead by example.

You don't have to be a purist in Leave No Trace principles for them to work.  You just need to be aware.  EDUCATION not LEGISLATION will preserve our wildlands.  Working smarter, not harder.  We need to educate trail users on how best to use trails.

Prevent avoidable impacts.  Minimize unavoidable impacts.

: : : : :

Many of your are like me, you love the outdoors and you love riding your horse.  Many of you realize, like me, that you can get more from your outside experience by riding your horse.  We see things other people don't see because we horseback ride.  Our horses can watch their feet so we can see the beauty around us.  It lets us appreciate nature even more.  And, of course, we enjoy the bond we have with our animals throughout the whole experience.

I'm asking you to think about how you use the trails in your area.  Now what can you do differently, maybe something mentioned above, maybe something mentioned on the Leave No Trace website that is a part of their other principles - what can you do differently to leave a little bit less of an impact or to augment the experience of someone else who may be using the same area (horse user or non-horse user)?

© Liz Stout

*Updated!* Packing photos

Clearly the Blogger App from my phone doesn't do photos well at all.  Thus, I'm redoing the post.

Gini, she's the reason I'm here!  She's also sending home two pack saddles with me for the summer.  Griffin is DEFINITELY learning to pack, and Q will likely get a lesson or two, also!  Oh, and Gini won Best Condition in the Old Dominion 100 several years ago...HOW COOL IS THAT!?

My packing partner Rebecca and I with our teacher, and Montana packing legend, Bob Hoverson.  Bob spent 42 years packing as a part of his job with the Forest Service.  He has written a book and has put out a DVD about packing Decker style.  Its been a lot of fun learning from him and getting to know him over the past two weeks.

The past two weeks have been a whirlwind of learning, meeting new friends, and playing in the Smokies.  I'm now a Leave No Trace Master Educator and can teach any of you the LNT information I have been taught.  In addition to all the LNT information, I learned a LOT about how to properly pack a horse into the backcountry.  I will be applying all the LNT principles and the packing knowledge come Monday morning.

I made the decision on Thursday to travel east for the weekend to stay with my Aunt and Uncle and visit my grandparents.  The Smokies are pretty, but ee gads are they HUMID.  I though WV was humid...WV is NOTHING compared to this.  Basically everything I owned was damp in some way/shape/form.  Yuck-o.

I mosied the 2 hours east with a stop in Asheville to eat the sushi I was jonesing for and to do a little boutique shopping.  I hadn't bought myself any clothes since October 2011.  That's a pretty good amount of time and I'm proud of myself for being able to do that, but I gave in yesterday and bought a cute green dress that will be very versatile.

I've done 4 loads of laundry and am currently packing/repacking my car for the trip back to the mountains for the pack trip.

We have a limited number of stock that we're allowed to take into the park, so getting in the equipment we need to build the hitching rails and the people we need to do it is tricky.  Lots of preparation and planning ahead! 

We will be traveling a total of 34 miles to install hitching rails on the Appalachian Trail.  I'm excited to experience my first trip and settle into "life at 3 mph".

The lumber bunks featured here are how we will pack pipes and lumber onto the Appalachian Trail to build the hitching rails.

I'm really excited to finally apply all I've been learning - and I'm really excited to get to pull a string of animals! 

More posts will follow in the upcoming days, I plan to rehash what I've learned and memorable moments into a series of posts while its fresh in my mind.  Photos will be minimal until I've returned home to my  CS4 capabilities.

And obviously a bigger keg would be easier, but we learned how to properly pack a keg into the backcountry.

I've been doing my best to keep up with everyone while I've been away; only one more week until I return to the "real world".  =)

On one of the many natural balds with a 360 degree view of the Smokies.