FOOBH: A Day In The Life

Or rather, 48 hours in my life so you can fully grasp hold of the crazy that is working three jobs!

Saiph requested I do this, so I hope she (and you) enjoy!

We’ll start on a Thursday morning and move through until a Friday evening, as these are my busiest two days due to ALL of my jobs being rolled into one. I’ll give you a play-by-play of what I’m anticipating today and tomorrow to be like. 

4:37am: Alarm goes off. I press snooze.

4:38am: Atticus aggressively cuddles my face, or tries to. I push him away. 

4:39am: Atticus returns. I push him away.

4:42am: Alarm goes off again. I press snooze…again.

4:43am: I scowl at the ceiling or smother my face into the pillow, cursing myself for this early wake up hour.

4:47am: Alarm goes off again. I begrudgingly press snooze and rise to begin my day.

4:49am: I hop in the shower.

4:57am: I’m out of the shower and rushing about the apartment to dress and prep. I let the dog out to potty.

5:12am: Have I packed everything up and prepped well for the mountain this weekend? I double check my mental lists of ski gear, dog things, human things, off-mountain clothes, and food. I let the dog back inside.

5:30am: I’m still double-checking, loading the car, and have started the car so it can warm up for the next several minutes and melt the inevitable ice. If it’s windy outside while I’m doing all of the above (likely), I’m cursing the wind and the field and the godforsaken barn and the hour and the night and the dark and….

5:50am: I’m on my way to the office.

6am: I plop down at my desk and begin my daily tasks. I read and reply to emails, phone messages, edit documents, send correspondence, and begin to set up an outline for biological opinion number two (yet another 70+ page document composed by moi), log projects, close out projects, so on and so forth. Such is the life of a biologist at her desk.

~1pm: I head home for lunch where I will let the dog out, stuff my face with something, finish loading the car, load up the dog in the car, and then head back to work.

~1:30pm: I’m back at the office for another few hours.

4:30p: I dart away from the office and head to the barn.

4:45p: I pull both horses in from the field.

4:50p: My lesson student arrives with her father. I proceed to have her help me feed, de-blanket, brush, and saddle the horses.

5p: I’ve got her aboard one of the horses and we begin our red-light green-light game that will help her warm up her confidence for the rest of the lesson. (Hey, she’s 3!)

~6p: The horses are blanketed and turned out, I bid my student and her father adieu and head to the valley.

~7p: I arrive at a friend’s house for dinner. We’ll eat, relax, talk, maybe pursue the hot tub, and then crash hard.

FRIDAY

6a: My alarm goes off. I growl at it and press snooze.

6:05a: My alarm goes off again. I growl again and press snooze. Godforsakenholidaymotherfuckingweekendhours. I should have another hour but noooo.

6:10a: All hail the motherfucking holiday weekend, I’ll growl. …and then press snooze.

6:15a: The alarm goes off. Snooze is no longer an option. I roll out of my warm nest and trudge downstairs to stuff my face with something edible.

6:30a: I pull on layer after layer and prepare for 10 hours in what promises to be temperatures below 20°F….windchill not factored.

6:35a: I trudge outside, cursing the cold and the wind and the dark and the god forsaken holiday weekend hours, and start my car so it can warm up. (I’m kind of bitter about life early in the morning.)

6:45a: I load the car up, load the dog up

7a: I arrive at the mountain, clock in, and proceed to flop down on the bench in the boot up room amongst all male ski patrollers. We laugh and joke and snark about the day to come. Are assigned trails for the morning set up, and await the start-up of the ski lift.

~7:30a: The lift should have started by now and we’ve all filed out, attached some sort of sliding board or boards to our feet, and head to the top. Likely I’m on a chair with Dan, discussing Nez Perce horses, endurance, Lakota life, Dolly Sods, and days gone by.

~7:45a: I’ve got a drill in hand complete with a 18” auger, maybe an armful of bamboo, and I strike out down whatever trail I’ve been assigned to place signs and ‘boo to mark hazards.

~8:05a: I’m back on the lift headed to the top.

The rest of the morning and afternoon will be a toss up. I may have to go and build fence to block hazards, I may work some accidents, I may transport patients, I may transport incompetence, I may nap, I’ll likely sit around and snark about the world with my cohorts, I’ll eat something, I’ll drink something, I’ll ski hither and thither and yon, and I’ll visit Kenai 2x to let him out for a potty break and short walk.

~4:30p: I’ll either grab last day chair on the lift, or await it’s arrival at the top.

~4:45p: I’ll perform day-close on my trail, ski to the bottom, clock out, put my radio away, and hop in my car (ski boots on!), and drive the 5 minutes to the other mountain.

~5:05p: I’m typically clocking in at Canaan.

~5:10p: I’m snagging a radio for this resort.

~5:12p: I’ve popped back into my skis and I’m headed to the first of two lifts that will take me to the top.

~5:25p: I’ve arrived at the top of the mountain. I remove my skis and head into the bump shack where Friday Night Supper Club is inevitably prepping something amazing for dinner (last week we had elk, antelope, bear, goose, Jack Daniels sweet potatoes, garlic bread, kettle popped chips, pop, and chocolate chip pumpkin muffins.)

~6:15p: I’ve likely eaten far too much food and am in a coma fighting sleep. If I’ve got my druthers about me, I’ll snag my skins and ski down to the base of the main lift.

~6:25p: I’ll take off my skis, put my skins on, and set to skinning up the mountain.

~7p: I’ve arrived back at the top, sweaty but definitely feeling better for my decision. I’ll hang out for the last hour, await last chair, and then close the mountain.

~8:20p: Back in the boot up room, I’ll put my ski gear away, and make plans to visit the bar.

~8:30p: I’m clocking out and heading to one of the local bars for a few drinks.

~10:30p: I’m back in my nest, likely showered, and about to pass out. Another 13 hour patrol day awaits me on the ‘morrow!

Beyond Your Comfort Zone

Hither, thither, far and yonder. Life has been an utter whirlwind this past week.

I've slept in my own bed once in this time, the rest has been spent elsewhere between Canaan Valley and Shepherdstown for my multitude of jobs and trainings for said jobs. I've experienced a wide spectrum of emotion as a result of so much activity, but ultimately, my morale is high and my smile is wide.

Last Thursday was a flurry of controlled chaos at my office. A meeting and some critical upcoming deadlines had me scrambling all day. I departed at 2p for Kenai's vet appointment which turned into two hours of tumultuous emotions, x-rays telling of an injury my vet has never seen in her many years, and three prescription drugs. Kenai is okay, though he'll be living in the slow lane for a time. 

From the vet I wound my way through town to the barn to meet my new lesson student and several generations of her family for her second lesson. The joy and excitement in her eyes and evident in her smile began to turn my crazy day right around. The raw emotion of a child is such a contagious thing!

I whisked out of town after my lesson, heading to the Valley for a long-awaited concert. I stopped briefly by a friend's house to drop Kenai off before we headed to meet another friend for dinner prior to the sold out show. Good conversation, great company, and some utterly outstanding music (not absent of a few yummy beers) turned my day around for good. Dancing, laughing, and whirling with wonderful people is the best kind of medicine. 

Friday was a day of ski patrol between two mountains; day shift on one, a short 5 minute drive with my ski boots on, then night shift at the other. I'd plans for a lazy morning followed by grand adventure the next day, but was shanghai'd in the parking lot upon my departure from the second mountain and talked into skiing for a few hours the following morning. It seemed that word of my negative experience with a ski clinic weeks prior had gotten around to some key ears who wanted to do right by me. I don't know what I've done to earn the friendships and respect from others on our patrol, but wow. Just wow. These folks continue to be some of my most favorite. I'm fortunate to have such role models to mentor me in my quest to be a better human.

And so I rolled out of bed a bit grumbly the next morning and hopped on my skis for a few hours with this new instructor. Jay was a breath of fresh air for me compared to my prior experience. He put my mental game back where it needed to be, introduced me to some new tools, and helped push me forward in the direction I needed to go with my skiing. How outstanding. I was so very happy I'd sacrificed my morning to make time for this experience. 

After two hours of mental reset and work on my ski skills, I shook Jay's hand and genuinely thanked him, a big smile on my face before I whisked away to a second grand adventure. You see, the sun was high, the skies were blue, and the temperatures were warmer than they had been in many weeks. Seneca Rocks was begging to be climbed, and fortunately for me, I'd found a climbing partner eager for the same adventure.

Dave and I quickly amassed climbing and ski gear into his Subaru and made the short commute from the Valley to Seneca. We were on rock by noon, at the summit by 3p, and back at the car and on our way to night shift for ski patrol by 3:45p. We were both more energized than we'd been in days, maybe weeks from the time spent climbing. Something about sandstone and sun is good for the body. The phrase most commonly uttered from us throughout our three pitches to the summit was, "I fucking love this shit," as giant perma-grins adorned our faces. 

We booted up quickly for night shift once at the resort, and even made last day-chair on the lift. I ate dinner once at the top, snagged a cat nap, and then set about for some outstanding night skiing on unlighted trails. My senses protested the darkness and lack of sight, but with time I adjusted; my senses adapted to the darkness.

Post-work, beers were enjoyed, the hot tub was utilized, and sleep was oh-so-sweet. Two mountains skied, three pitches climbed, three summits had been obtained in a round-about way. How fortunate I am to live in such an area where all can be accomplished in one day!

Sunday morning was long and lazy, the perfect compliment to the previous day's activities. By evening, I was making the three-hour trek east for two days of training for my biologist job. 

Hither, thither, far and yonder. It's been a wild whirlwind, but it's really made me think and reflect on somethings...

Doing is living. Risk is necessary for success.  Doing and risking open up so many opportunities. You must try and give and then give a little bit more in order to get what you want. It is both exhausting and totally fulfilling to live life this way. It is completely worth it in the end, however. I've got stories from experiences many would kill to have. I'm stressed at times, but the cost is far outweighed by benefit; I gain more and more opportunities and more and more open doors. I sacrifice a little, give a little, and gain so much.

Life begins at the end of your comfort zone. I challenge you to push away from your comfort zone and see what you can accomplish; I'd love to hear your stories.

Transformation

I realized last night that it might be interesting to look at a comparison of one of Griffin's first times under saddle at the trot vs. many months later. My timing of this comparison is cperfect seeing as it is Transformation Tuesday.

March 2014 vs. October (or late Sept?) 2014.

Scrawny ass to quite a chunker in a short amount of time.

Uncertain expression to one of forward confidence...for both of us. He didn't know what I wanted and I didn't know what to expect from him in terms of a potential outburst due to the bit. Now, I know I can rely on him to behave most of the time and he can rely on me to be fair in what I request.

I think I'll make an effort to do a transformation of how he is over jumps for our next installment of Griffin transforming. =) He's doing so very well lately.

Progress

As much as I wanted to stay at home and be exceptionally lazy on my only day off, I mustered up some motivation and headed to the barn to stay true to my "ride Q once a week" goal. I didn't have a grand ride plan beyond my gut feeling of an hour of riding would be good no matter the distance. Ultimately though, my goal for Q right now is to keep her calm and confident on the trail.

I'd forgotten music on this day (I don't keep music on my phone, only my iPod), but I did have access to Audible from an app so I opted to listen to Cheryl Strayed's Wild as I rode to keep my mind from being too hyper-vigilant about the surrounding environment and the way Q might react to things.

Q once again wore the S-hack and I carried my dressage whip as I'd done the week before.

Always looking around.

Leaving the barnyard, the little mare was relaxed and relatively forward considering she was leaving her friends*. I softly tapped her shoulder, neck, and haunches with the dressage whip when she would become too looky in a non-forward direction. The tapping served the purpose of regaining her attention** from whatever had taken it elsewhere.

The only place Q exhibited great hesitancy all day was the first crossing of the creek. She was very cautious with how she chose her path through the ice. I let her take her time, but was careful to not let her take her time in a manner that leads to her trying to go back home***. Encouraging tap-tap-tapping at the proper moments kept her moving forward.

Once across the creek, Q was exceptional. She picked up a steady 6mph trot across the back field, into the woods, and up the mountain. We walked across the first section of flat at the top to let her regain her wind a bit, and then picked up a steady trot again. As we trotted through areas that have historically caused her to be more alert and more apt to spook, I rode with my left hand on the reins (I'm oddly left-handed when riding), and twirled the dressage whip in my right hand in such a manner that allowed me to tap her left side then right side then left side etc. of her neck. The tapping was light and by no means painful. It merely served to tone down her hyper-alert tendencies and redirect her focus on something else.

When we reached the area where the grouse has flushed the time before, I let Q walk. Her body language read that she remembered something had happened here before that wasn't normal, so I wanted to give her time to be slow and take things in. I talked to her as we went through. No grouse this time.

We continued up the second mountain instead of heading back when we reached the main trail junction. Q picked up a very nice 6mph trot throughout this section as well, even offering up a canter for pieces of it. I once again tapped her neck, shoulder, and haunches as she moved out up the mountain, adding my voice when necessary to bring her attention away from her surroundings a little bit and put it back onto her job.

We flushed some deer at the top of the mountain. Their bounding leaps and flagged white tails caused Q a bit of alarm, but she didn't spook! She merely elevated into a slightly loftier trot and fluidly moved to the far side of the trail from the fleeing deer. I praised her.

At around what I figured was 2.5 miles, I turned her for home. We walked the first little while, then did some intermittent trotting through the flatter sections of the descent.

Q continued to be forward and not very rushy toward home as we reached the haul road. Three or four times during this more open stretch of trail I checked her speed and cautioned her to slow down a little bit. She was very responsive each time. She gave some sidelong glances at worrisome potential monsters as we trotted along, but I talked to her and tapped her and we made it through without ANY spooking. Each time she surpassed something that merited the Stink Eye Gaze from Q, I praised her liberally.

---

On a slight incline standing awkwardly stretched, but she's still exceptionally cute.

I really feel like we're making some good progress. I think the tapping with the dressage whip does the same thing for Q that the music/audiobooks do for me, numbing the tendency to be hyper-vigilant about potential dangers along the trail. I doubt that either crutch will be necessary forever, but for now, each is serving a purpose to put this mare and I back on better terms with our working partnership.

Additionally, I plan to move out much slower on our solo rides into the future. In past training, I tried to keep Q moving out more with the goal of training faster at home than we would race. While this theory has its merits, moving out faster down the trail on this little mare is detrimental to her mental game. Slowing down is far more beneficial for her at this time as I strive to help her gain her confidence. When I can ride with a second horse, we'll focus on moving out more. Maybe one day she'll be able to move solo down the trail at a faster clip, but I feel that if this happens it will be something that happens gradually without a marked difference. If it happens, it'll be something I notice only by looking back on our past tracked ride stats on Endomondo.

For now, I'm very pleased with the trend in confidence in Q. I know my own mental game plays into her behavior greatly, and I'm proud of myself for making strides and improving upon how I think/act. We're getting there. Progress is evident.

---

*I don't know that I've ever mentioned it on here, but I always joke and tell people Q's constant mantra at home is, "Friends. I have friends. Do you see my friends? My friends are over there. See my friends? I have friends. I love my friends. My friends are over there. Do you want to meet my friends? I have friends over there. Did you know I have friends? See my friends?" This mantra is often chanted as the little mare takes sidelong glances toward the herd in as many opportunities as possible.

**This is hands down the LOOKIEST horse I have EVER been around. It definitely attributes to her spooking habit. Vets during trot outs have noted how alert she is. Her head is ALWAYS on a swivel gauging everything around her near and far. If I'm not on my game keeping her fast-paced Arabian brain busy, she's looking off deep into the woods and across fields to find monsters.
***She's definitely one of those horses who will use water crossings as an opportunity to try to slowly turn around and head home by acting as if she's trying to find the Best Place to Drink and ultimately doing a slow, meandering circle toward the home direction.

SMtT: Equestrian Scavenger Hunt

Okay Lauren, here's the In Omnia Paratus version of your scavenger hunt...

The most magical Friesian of all the Friesians
My neighbor's stallion - Bart

A 10+ jumper
Q jumping for 300+ elementary schoolers...at a playground

A horse we can all call SHENANIGANS! on...
Yeah...

The (best) WORST clip job
When I hogged Griffin's mane down once and for all....eep

The cutest miniature horse on the planet
Charlie and his girl...not sure who is cuter.

Bitchiest. Mare. Ever.
Q's snake face. Yep. It happens.

Funniest horse meme/cartoon.
Griffin and Kenai when they were shamed.

The most matchy McMatcherson outfit
We win with the orange! lol

A most saintly creature
Odie really is the saintliest. Three idiots and he's all business.

The Black Stallion Returns....2015 style
Saiph has captured my Black and I. This moment was especially akin to moments Alec had with the Black throughout the books.

All In A Week

1. A pipestrelle bat in its cave.  2. A cluster of federally endangered Indiana bats.  3. Finished my first book of 2015! Marching along with my goal to read a minimum of 20 books this year.  4. A different view of Canaan Valley than what I typically share - looking west from Twister at Timberline.  5. An actual SUNset with the SUN from my porch one evening.  6. Hodor begging for attention.  7. The lightest, fluffiest dry snow. Wish we had 3 feet of it. The skiing would be to die for.

Positive Baby Steps

What a weekend. What a weekend. *shakes head*

For those not in the know, I work my "real" job Mondays through Thursdays. 4-10s (four ten hour days) so I can always have 3-day weekends. During the winter months, I work at two ski resorts on Fridays and Saturdays as a pro patroller (red/black jacket with white cross if you've been on a ski mountain in the US). Typically I work double shifts of 13 hours or so. Sundays are my days to myself - often chores around home and horse time consumes these days.

This past weekend I took it pretty easy Friday during my double shift. I had a ski clinic (basically private ski lessons through patrol) scheduled for the following day. I didn't know how that would pan out, so I figured it would be in my best interest to take it easy.

I'm glad I did.

- My feet need to be more hip-width apart (left to right stance)
- My front to back stance needs to be more narrow (hips over rear ankle)
(it's not too bad here, I tend to be too deep usually)
- I need to loosen through my hips and be more forward; my upper body
angulation needs to match my lead leg angulation between knee and ankle
Positives? My hands are up! That used to be a huge problem for me. My skis
are also on edge. I have upper-lower body separation, too.

The clinic ended up being pretty rough. I'd not anticipated having instructors for telemark skiing (a free vs. locked heel style of downhill skiing), but I did! I was one of two involved in it, which was great for more one on one instruction. I'd anticipated on having my ass handed to me, but goodness, not quite to the level I did. I know I'm far from perfect, but I didn't realize (according to them) how bad I am. In so many words, one of the instructors noted, "You're a beautiful skier. So graceful. It's so fun to watch you ski. I don't know how you do it though, your stance is both too narrow and too wide, your body positioning is off, and you skid all of your turns. You do everything wrong but you make it look pretty because you're young and strong." ...oh.

So I have A LOT to work on to meet patrol standards for the next level. I'm happy I know and I'm very much going to work on things. But still... Receiving SO much criticism in such a short time period (6 hours) wasn't easy to take! It's always so hard to set pride aside and hear about all of your short-comings. I nodded and "okay'd" my way through, noting how contrary some things were to what I'd come to understand and been told from folks previously. I was certain to note that I didn't in any way mean that prior teachings were "right" and that the new-to-me information was "wrong", just that, wow, so black and white different. It's a lot to wrap my head around.

I was very downtrodden at the end of the clinic. I curled up in a mental hole for awhile. However, I'm out now, and the fire to improve is lit.

Another patroller put the whole thing in perspective for me:

You did good today, so don't be upset. It's not easy being on the river with 4-5 instructors observing and commenting.  If it was easy everyone would do it, right?, certainly doing it on tele gear makes it a whole lot more challenging.

Also, having folks who have never watched you ski, then being at the mercy of "critique" is something most folks never go through; or choose too. So I encourage you to forge ahead you have the ability, the toughness, and persistence.

I guess it is kind of admirable to have chosen to jump into the lion's den? Character building for sure.

My saving grace in it all will definitely be my stubbornness. I will only stay down for so long before I jump up fighting again out of spite and pure stubborn ferocity. It's the redhead way!

---

Sunday I made a goal of getting Q out on a mini trail ride. I wanted to do the 3.5 mile loop. I didn't care how long it took, I just wanted to do it with a horse who had a better mental status than the last time we'd done a solo ride in September or October. (Yes, it has been that long!)

Attributing factors building up to a mare with a better head on her shoulders:

• time off since Fort Valley 50 in October 2014
• ground driving work
• hiking with her on trails
• dressage rides
• a jump session
• a trail ride with another horse
• ponying session

Additional changes to the old norm for Sunday's ride:

• S-hack
• I carried a dressage whip 

My thought with the dressage whip was to help encourage her to go ever forward. She respects it a lot, reminding me so much of Stan who used to act up and test me unless I had a crop in hand. I rarely had to use it, but its presence in his mind meant that there would be no nonsense and he would work. Q isn't as extreme as Stan, but the presence of the dressage whip certainly seems to help.

Leaving the barn, Q was hesitant (as always) to leave her friends. *tap tap tap* on her hind quarters with the dressage whip and she settled into the forward direction. Her body language dictated that she wasn't thrilled with this decision (head and eyes shifting often toward the herd, gait hesitant and awaiting the tiniest opportunity to stop and turn home), but she was going forward.

As we crossed the creek and entered the back field she pepped up a lot with regards to leaving home. She picked up a trot through the back field, popped in a few strides of a slow, collected canter until I brought her back to the trot, and then kept a slow (5 mph), steady trot for the next mile or more. (Through our first year to year and a half of training, I could count on her entering "work mode" once we had entered the woods on the far side of the back field. She knew then that there would be no turning back.)

I had a thought during these first few minutes of the ride that in the past I would have acted on, She's doing so well! Wow! Maybe we'll just tack on a few extra miles and take advantage of it. Except, with my previous day's experience having my ass (and pride) handed to me 10-fold coupled with the past several months of working this little mare into a better mental place, I followed the first thought through with, No. Best to keep it short and sweet. We're more likely to have more success that way. I want today to go well so that she attributes good things with solo riding again. She needs to build up. She needs to have the reward of doing a good job and not experiencing something negative. I don't need to be so hard on her; after all, it didn't feel good to have people coming down so hard on me yesterday! I'll make today as good as possible for Q so that the stage will hopefully be set for even more success down the road.

Any time she was hesitant about something on trail, I *tap tap tapped* her with the dressage whip encouraging her to keep moving forward and praising her as she did.

We had two bursts of canter on two steep sections, trotted all the good footing, and walked areas I knew to be slick and areas following a burst of canter.

She hesitated a fraction of a moment every so often, opening the opportunity for me to allow her to turn for home; I denied each time. Her hesitation in these moments was so slight that I don't think it is something I would notice if I didn't ride in the treeless saddle where I can feel the slightest of changes in her back and body.

Two grouse flushed as we linked the ridgeline trail to the haul road. The flushed as politely as you could hope a grouse to unexpectedly flush, and Q was a star about it. Her head went up a fraction and her ears strained forward hard, but her step didn't falter. She was very attentive about the areas they'd flown from after one and then the other flew up out of the scrub, but she was still forward moving. Good mare.

As we hit the haul road and struck out on our return journey, Q pepped up considerably. I expected as much. This was the reason I'd taken the loop in the direction I did; I knew this wide-open haul road area triggered more spooking behavior for Q and if we were going to take advantage of the good footing, I wanted her very focused on moving down the trail and not on looking for monsters. Striking out toward home would definitely provide her with more purpose and incentive to move forward down the trail and not seek out monsters. I set her up for success the best way I knew how.

And, by and large, it worked! She was forward and motivated and not seeking monsters.

Except this one dead wingstem stalk...

It wasn't even on my radar. I had my eyes trained forward and up, listening to my music, refusing to even look at the ground and let myself form a thought like, Oh there's something. Will she spook? What about that? and throw her off with my own subconscious body language.

So, when she slammed the breaks and dodged hard (but not as hard as she is capable of) left, my body rocked forward and onto the far right of her neck. She didn't drop her shoulders/neck/head as she's done before, but I still couldn't stay on. She took a hesitant step to the side as I was forming the thought, Can't save this. Hitting the ground. and I did the slowest motion front somersault over her right shoulder to the ground, making a very conscious decision to NOT LET GO of the reins or dressage whip as I went. *flop*

I jumped right back up, furious at first because things had been going So Well. The prideful side of me wanted to scream and hit and yell at her for spooking, but I forced myself to exhale, reminded myself that I throw her off MORE by staying silent and hopping on and making her move out as if NOTHING happened than if I lose my temper. And so I hopped on as fast as I could (the mental decision process taking milliseconds), and gave her a hard *pop* on the rear with the dressage whip and we launched forward past the offending wingstem stalk.

Gazing toward her friends upon our return to the barn; blanketed in preparation
for 12 hours of rain --> several hours of freezing rain --> many hours of snow.
No shelter on those 40 acres; I'd rather my horses be dry and warm and use their
hay calories to keep weight instead of keeping warm through shivering!

Part of me wanted to circle her back and go past the damn thing a second time for emphasis, but I cut that thought off as soon as I'd formed it. This horse needs to learn to go FORWARD at all costs. No slamming on the brakes. No stopping. FORWARD. And so we continued on our path.

Q asked to canter and tried twice, but I brought her back into the trot both times. Clearly if she could let her mind wander to find a monster and spook, she didn't need to be moving forward faster. Her goal was home. My goal was steady forward motion sans spooks.

As we neared the last of the good footing, I slowed her to a walk. We maintained this walk for the next mile or so, only picking up a trot when we were in the back field at home. Here, I popped her over a cavaletti twice, just to remove from her mind the idea that she would get to go STRAIGHT home and cease working once we'd returned to the property. She wasn't as "up" upon our return as she'd been the last ride where I'd schooled her to not rush home, but I didn't want to provide an opportunity for her to associate the idea of  being "done" with being within sight of the barn. It was an extra 60 seconds of work, but it seemed to do the trick.

Despite hitting the dirt, I'm calling the ride a Huge Success. By and large I had an unspooky, forward moving mare who was much more confident than months prior. It's a baby step, but it's a baby step in the direction I want to go. Bonus? She didn't even break a sweat! She's retained some kind of fitness it seems...

I'm going to strive to get in one trail ride a week on Q for now. The length of the ride isn't as important as the Getting Out and Doing.

A week in the life

A snapshot of my time this past week from 1/12 through 1/19 goes something like this:

• 40 hours at my "real" job
• 39 hours at my ski patrol jobs over 3 days time
• 1 night at the gym
• 1 night at yoga
• 1 night riding
• 1 day fully to myself to do chores and yoga and ride (1/19)

It's no wonder I'm not writing more on the blog.

Work is work. Canaan is forever beautiful. I am forever busy. And the horses are forever good.

On 1/15, I did a short ride where I rode Griffin while ponying Q. Both horses were very well behaved. It was a nice evening ride to end my day.

On my day off, I did a fair bit of yoga outside despite the cold, wind, and snow. The sun was out and the temps were slightly above freezing so I waved my "fuck it" flag and did yoga outside.

I also wore sandals. *waves flag furiously*

Griffin and I did a small jump school yesterday. Including the time spent first moving and later resetting the jumps, it was a 35 minute session. The GPS estimated we covered 2.45 miles. A moderate to moderate-heavy workout for the little grey horse.

We started with ground poles and slowly ticked our way up to a max height of 18" using the cavaletti and jump standards. I set the jumps up in what I hoped would be a very forgiving slightly bendy course. It worked very well.

Griffin presented with a lot of try and honesty throughout the exercises. He was balanced and calm and took his breaks as seriously as his work. After 3 to 4 circuits through each height, I would raise the jumps a little, until the final round when we ended after 3 circuits. Griffin had a walk break after each circuit and ground tied (and even grazed) while I would reset the jumps between heights.

During his breaks, he would relax completely, taking full advantage of the opportunity to rest. Once I signaled it was time to pay mind and work, he pepped right up and took his job seriously. I was so very impressed and praised him oodles. I think he was rather proud of himself.

It was so fun to finally let this little guy do what he's wanted to do so long: jump. In the past, when I would flat Griffin near jumps I'd been doing with Q, he would always try to head for them. It wasn't a one or two time thing either. It was an every time thing. If there was a jump up in his vicinity, he was hunting it.

Bottom line? A very busy, very fulfilling week of many things.

Yes. I do have a problem sitting still. ;-) However, it is important to note that despite all of the hours logged being busy, I still feel so very rested and ready to tackle this next round of weekly chaos.

TOABH: Wish We Could

Let's pretend that financial restrictions don't exist and logistics isn't a nightmare.  If you could do anything with your Ponykins, what would you do?

• Attend more endurance rides than I already do. I keep my schedule to a measly 3 or 4 rides a year right now because of finances and logistics, not because Q isn't capable of doing more. Throwing the two things holding me back out the window? Oh goodness, I'd be at so many rides! Beyond the obvious "I love to ride my horse as much as I can" thing, the biggest draw of endurance (for me) is getting to ride some absolutely remarkable terrain and see some stunning landscapes from horseback.
• Fox hunt. Cantering across the country side and jumping obstacles has been a pleasing thought since I was a child and ran through my elementary school hallways and playground riding my imaginary horse and jumping imaginary jumps. The only thing that would make the dream come completely true is if I had my imaginary pet cheetah to hunt with! (Don't judge. The mind of a seven year old is what it is.)
• Ride on the beach. I got a taste of this in Costa Rica (at sunset at a full out gallop for nigh on a mile) and it merely whetted my appetite for more!
• Backcountry trips. I'm totally capable of doing this now, but the logistics are so daunting that I don't. Because Beka is majickal and told me logistics aren't a nightmare means that we're goin' on a pack trip through some of the most beautiful West Virginia landscapes - who's in? Dom, Ozzy may still have a future as a pack horse! ;-) He can carry the kegs. Because alcohol. And I know how to pack a keg on a Decker style saddle.
• Dressage. Because it would build foundation of all of the above. The closest instructor to me is a 2.5 hour drive over the Appalachians/Allegheny mountains. I would so very much love to do dressage under the watchful eyes of a knowledgeable instructor.

Miss Manners

Ah, what a whirlwind of life! It's winter in West Virginia, and long-time readers will recognize that this is the season in which I work two jobs - my typical biologist position with added ski patrol for the snowy months. Except you know, this year it's three jobs instead of two because I'm working at two resorts instead of one. *shrugs* C'est la vie.

I would like to state for the record that despite the three jobs I am *not* working myself into the ground. This past weekend I pulled a double between the two resorts on Friday and had Saturday and Sunday all to myself. I've taken Sundays off from everywhere for the season and am gifted with the occasional Saturday, too.

Saturday was spent being domestic, but I pulled double-duty on Sunday and skied at a third resort in WV for a few hours before heading to the barn to work the horsebeasts.

Griffin: I've come to the conclusion that working two horses in one day is best done (for the winter months, at least) by riding one and working the other on the longe. Today was Griffin's turn for ground work.

I ended up working him for 25 minutes mostly at the trot. He'd get to do a lap or two at the canter to energize him and really motivate him to move forward, but no more. I put him on a loose setting in side reins coupled with a polo wrap tied to the surcingle that went behind his bum to better motivate him to step under himself.

I'd never tried the polo wrap before and was curious to see if it would make a difference. Verdict? Yes, for the first 5 minutes. After that though? *shrugs*

I focused on really having Griffin move forward with steady rhythm. By the end he was tracking up nicely and reaching into the bridle, though not quite as much as I'd originally desired. I decided to take his best efforts as "good" and quit there before he became tired and cranky. I haven't done a lot with him lately, so I wisely shelved my higher hopes for the day.

Q: I crave saddle time a lot lately. Especially behind these dark bay ears. I've decided that I will work the little mare under saddle on trails, but only if they are trails we've previously had a successful ground driving session on. This motivates me to do good by my ground driving goals and also rewards me for seeking out the effort to ground drive more.

Q has been so confident lately both ground driving and under saddle. I've kept my agenda clear beyond having sessions that are good for her mentally and curb her herd-bound tendencies. (Like when she tried to rush home during ground driving and I double-longed her until she'd settled.)

Yesterday's ride went much like the ground driving session with a few different tactics. I'm not 100% pleased with the tactic I chose yesterday as it had some flaws, but I had to stick with it at the time.

We had a great mini-trail ride on the trail we'd previously ground driven with success. Kenai came with us on this mini-ride and I realized something that changed with rides on Q between the first year I had her and last year: Kenai was with us a lot on the first year. I am more focused and concerned about Kenai's whereabouts than what Q is potentially concerned with in regards to monsters on the trail. As I watched and tracked Kenai yesterday, I noticed Q looking all about for things to spook at. Because my attention was primarily elsewhere and relaxed though (intent on Kenai), she never balked or bunched up to erupt in a spook. Not all that surprising really, but an interesting observation all the same that will help in future rides.

Once we were back in the field tracking toward home, Q became very motivated and drawn like a magnet to the barn and her friends. While I accept that this is a tendency of many horses and is instinct to many degrees, she must learn to dampen that instinct when a rider is aboard and mind her manners. With every indication of interest toward "home", I turned her away to do work in the opposite direction. Circles mostly with some trotting away until her focus settled calmly in the "away" direction.

When we were at the peak of our distance away from the barn (my boundary for the day's ride), and she was still demonstrating more motivation toward home I tried a trick Daryl recommended that Mr. Crandell told him to do with his horse: make them hate their own ideas and they might start to think you're right! Granted, more time and many repetitions (and modification to the way the idea is used) are needed. 

Because I was in an area on the landscape that was conducive to creating "more work" for Q if she wanted to go home (I was at the bottom of a hill that stood between her and the barn), when she motivated toward home I made her book up up that hill as fast as I could, and then at the top I turned her around and went the "away" direction at a nice, easy walk. See, mare? Home means more work, going away from home is much nicer.

With a calmer horse, we finally descended the hill in the "home" direction....except she passaged the whole damn thing. And so, she had to run up and "away" again. She did a walking march down the second time, not the calmest, but marked improvement nonetheless. 

From there, she was still expected to walk home. Every moment she broke from the walk into a trot or a hybrid walk/trot, she was circled "away" until she calmed. And then, as we reached the flat, she motivated hard for "home" again. 

(And here is the point where, in hindsight of course (d'oh!), my idea to make her hate her own idea reversed a little. I should have made things easier away from home and harder toward them if I was keeping with the original idea. I did the opposite though. Even as I was pursuing it yesterday I realized there was some error to the approach, but felt I should stick with it for the time for consistency's sake. Noted, and will modify for the future!)

A tired mare after our ride.

I turned her "away" on the flat part and cantered her to one end of the field and back until she'd settled. Then we tried walking again. She pushed the label, so we cantered away and then settled to a slow trot. We tried walking home again, she pushed to go faster, and so we trotted off "away" again. This was repeated until she was much more motivated to walk.

On the final approach across the field to the barn, if she walked, she got to keep going. The moment she broke into a faster gait, she was turned and cantered AWAY to the same place every time where she was then expected to stand calmly for several seconds time while facing away from home. Each attempt to walk home we would get a few steps further (snow is a beautiful thing for tracking progress!) before she'd try to rush. Each time we reached the You Must Stand area, she stood calmly more quickly (didn't fidget before giving in to standing). 

(While she seemed to be grasping that there was less work away from home in the area where she didn't have to move her feet, I still was pursuing the opposite of my original intent. Not altogether bad, but not good either considering my original intent.)

With time, she deigned to walk home. It wasn't on the buckle, but it was a marked success from the beginning of the session!

The funny part through all of this for me was how sassy Q was about not getting her way. On Griffin or another horse I would have been put out with a sassy attitude, but from this mare who was relatively meek about things in the past I am highly amused. She was just SO ADAMANT about trying to do what she wanted every time, so much repetition of the "wrong" answer. Each time I redirected her "wrong" attempt, she would let her breath out in a staggered grunting/groan noise for the space of one exhale. When that exhale ended, she would refocus on the new direction and settle. As she grew more tired, she wouldn't make the noise, but the breath was still there. 

I fully admit that the sassy, headstrong tendencies have potential to be no bueno if not honed well, but for now, I'm just eager to see this side of this horse. I hope I am able to hone the behavior into something beneficial for the mare and myself with regards to our working relationship!

I hope I am able to stay as cognizant of training sessions in the future and continue to improve upon them. Clearly, I must be making some strides considering that we've not had a session with a bad spook yet since our return to work. I know it will inevitably happen, but I hope that this practice of being diligently aware of how we're training, what's going on in both my head/body, and what is happening in the environment will aid in my understanding of why future bumps happen and how I can move forward to resolve them and try to prevent their frequency of occurrence into the future.