The horse makes every man look beautiful.

In his book Pathways to Bliss, the great mythology professor Joseph Campbell (wiki) tells a story about a middle aged man who has “now learned to do everything he was taught to do and thought should be done.”

Given this, the man now finds that he has a lot of spare time on his hands. So he decides to devote himself to the love of his youth—fishing! Campbell writes, “He equips himself with a considerable amount of ritual gear, certain kinds of hats, rods (‘you mustn’t call it a pole, this is a rod’), silver doctors, and all kinds of flies that he’s stuffed into his hat, and fine; the old man, he’s got it all now. Let him have what he likes, let him go; he’s got a hunting lodge and all that.”

This sounds frightfully like my tack room.

Campbell continues, “So what’s he doing? He’s fishing; that’s what he was doing the last time he loved something, when he was 12 years old.”

I loved riding more than anything when I was 12. Still do.

“And what does he pull up?” Campbell asks. “Fish.”

Campbell is on a roll now—

“And what was he unconsciously waiting for? Mermaids!”

I wonder if each time I ride my horse, I’m secretly looking for Pegasus? Are you? I have a hunch that’s where equestrian vaulting comes in …

Flickr photo credits: surrealist

Posted by Kimberly at December 30, 2005 | Permalink

Side Stretch

Today, we’re going to do a side stretch. This wonderful stretch is not only good for your spine, but for your sides, shoulders, and arms as well.

OK, equestrian athletes, let’s begin—

Start by making sure your abdomen is active with your navel pulled into your spine.

Now, with your legs slightly apart, lean to one side, but don’t fold at the waist. Bend sideways only. Focus on both of your sides remaining long as you stretch. Visualize yourself sandwiched between two glass panels and perform the movement within that space.

Feel your arms stretching away and out from your body like two wings! Lift yourself into the side lean and stretch to your limit.

You can do this stretch while sitting as well—on a balance ball, a chair or stool.

Try not to sink into the stretch. Elongate your sides and breathe. Stretch each side three to four times. Take your time and enjoy it.

This side stretch exercise increases spinal flexibility, which is key to the equestrian athlete. Not only will you feel better in the saddle, but your horse will be happier with a more flexible and balanced rider on his back!

Posted by Kimberly at December 30, 2005 | Permalink

When I bestride him, I soar, I am a hawk: He trots the air; the earth sings when he touches it; the basest horn of his hoof is more musical than the pipe of Hermes. ~ William Shakespeare

Flickr photo credit: pisco

Posted by Kimberly at December 29, 2005 | Permalink

After spending several days sitting in the paddock with our little rescue horse Teyla, in an attempt to gain her confidence, we were ready to move on.

I haltered her and led her over to the round pen for a simple join-up exercise. I was not prepared for what happened.

The moment I unfurled the rope in a low, soft arc, Teyla exploded. The appaloosa mare coiled up like a spring and shot towards the corral panels, sliding to a stop just short of the fence, hooves splayed, haunches squeezed beneath her trembling body. She looked to the left and then to the right, frenzied, eyes rolling, certain I was a mountain lion that was going to eat her up alive. She rose back off of her freckled hindquarters and made a couple of false starts at jumping the corral panels from a standstill.

I let the rope fall to the ground, and remembered to breathe, slowly and methodically so that maybe the little horse would remember to breathe too. It was heartbreaking to see a horse so traumatized by something about which none of my other horses would think twice. I began to mentally berate myself for allowing this to happen. What had I missed, I wondered? What puzzled me was that the panic didn't fit with her behavior of 15 minutes prior. When she resisted being caught in the paddock, I 'd "chased" her slowly to get her feet to move and have her think a little bit about the prospect of being caught. She'd responded with a few laps at a mildly concerned trot and then decided it was easier to stand still than to be chased by a woman swinging a rope. She’d allowed me to halter her.

And now here she was—scrunched against the fence, head wrenched away from me, eyes glazed. Perhaps the round pen had triggered something? Maybe I'd been too aggressive, although I'd barely let go of the rope before she panicked. Whatever it was, the horse was terrified. I took a few steps back away from her, giving her room, hands down, speaking softly, and telling her everything was going to be OK. The knotted muscles beneath her poor coat began to unwind. I think a few of mine did as well.

I dropped my head and slowly turned away from her. I walked away to the center of the pen and stood still. For a long time.

Then I heard it.

One tentative hoof in front of the other until I felt her near, breathing in and out through her whiskered nostrils, then a sigh, waiting. I searched the ground for her shadow to try and figure out how close, but the sun was too high, so I turned around slowly to look at her. The horse’s ears were thrust in my direction like large, spotted antennae. She stood square on all fours, tail swishing, expectant. I could feel the smile bursting across my face. "Good, Teyla!" I said. “Good!” She let me rub her neck and shoulder.

I took a stroll around the pen, Teyla following closely. When I walked, she walked. When I stopped, she stopped. We did figure eights, serpentines, voltes. We stood perfectly still together in the silence, an invisible silk thread between us. She lowered her head and licked her lips. I guess she decided I was OK to follow.

Then I picked up her halter and lead rope and slipped the halter on her, told her what a genius she is, and was rewarded with the softness in her eye that comes from the horse's acknowledgment and acceptance of your praise.

This horse rescue business was a lot more complex than I’d thought.

Flickr photo credits: Room With a View; Room With a View; bodhi47

Posted by Kimberly at December 28, 2005 | Permalink

During the holiday week in Costa Rica, a highlight of the Zapote Festival is the Day of the Horseman—a parade with a contingent of ox carts and handlers leading the way, followed by as many as 4,000 horsemen and horsewomen.

Yesterday, my daughter J. and I had a small, albeit colorful horse parade of our own, replete with rainbow-colored trappings. After mucking out the corrals, we climbed aboard her Andalusian mare, Caprichosa. Our only tack was the tie-dyed halter and lead rope I gave J. for Christmas.

The white mare carried us bareback in our coveralls and jeans towards the mesa and along the old AT&SF road. Her bell-shaped hooves lifted from the ground in great fancy arcs as she trotted along the rutted track where just last autumn we’d been challenged by one of the biggest rattlers I’ve ever seen. The horse snorted, full of herself and the day, neck arched, chest puffed up like big white bellows. J. wrapped her arms around my waist, and I took one hand off of the rainbow “reins” to point to our three-headed shadow outlined in sharp relief on the earth by the winter sun.

J. clucked to Caprichosa from where she rode behind me, and we found ourselves striking off into the easy, rolling rhythm of a canter, Andalusian style. Like riding on the back of a fluffy white cloud, which was pretty much the gist of the song we began to make up, singing at the top of our lungs beneath the winter sky.

Caprichosa’s flea bitten ears swiveled back and forth. I’m sure she was wondering why we were so noisy.

What a parade.

The Costa Rican equestrians compete for a number of cash prizes on their Day of the Horseman, but the most important motivation is to continue a Christmas tradition that has endured since the end of the 19th century.

J., Caprichosa, and I may have started our own new tradition, circa 2005.

Photo Credits: roman-man; Kent Gilbert

Sources: AM Costa Rica; AP

Posted by Kimberly at December 28, 2005 | Permalink

I'm continuing my series on the flexible spine for the equestrian athlete. Today, we're going to look at Upward Facing Dog (Urdhva Mukha Svanasana). Our blue heeler does this upon awakening each morning, and, amazingly, our 25-year-old pony can do a slightly modified version to scratch those itchy spots on his tummy. Now there's a testimony for youth being determined by the flexibility of the spine!

Not only does Upward Dog strengthen the spine, arms and wrests, but also opens the chest, lungs, and shoulders while stretching the abdomen. This excellent pose also firms the buttocks. A flexible spine enables the rider to move effectively and fluidly with the horse.

Let’s start—

Lie on your stomach. Let your legs stretch back long behind you. The tops of your feet are resting on the ground. Your elbows are bent, palms spread on the floor next to your waist. Your forearms should be pretty much perpendicular to the ground.

Inhale.

Very slowly press your palms into the floor as if you are trying to push the ground away. Gradually straighten your arms. Slowly arch the spine back, articulating your spine vertebra-by-vertebra, lifting your torso off the ground and then the legs. Lead with the nose, then the chin, until you are arched back as far as comfortably possible. Don’t strain the lower back by overstretching. Your torso and legs should be a couple of inches off the ground. Your thighs, arms, and buttocks are firm, but not clenched. Press your tailbone towards your pubis and lift the pubis towards your belly button.

Firm your shoulder blades against your back and draw them down towards the tailbone into a V shape. (Hint—Actively draw the shoulders down and away from the ears. You may have a tendency to hunch them forward and hang from the shoulders. ) Lift through the top of your sternum (wiki).

You can look straight ahead or tip the head back a little. Keep the eyes, face, neck, and throat soft.

Hold for 15 to 30 seconds, b-r-e-a-t-h-i-n-g long and deep.

To end—

Exhale slowly and come back down to the starting prone position one vertebra at a time.

Your horse will love you for your lightness and flexibility in the saddle. As you can see, my young Percheron, Tobias, thinks that yoga is very interesting!

Photo Credits: J. and C., child photographers extraordinaire
Sources: Yoga Journal, Kundalini Yoga

Posted by Kimberly at December 27, 2005 | Permalink

Bread may feed my body, but my horse feeds my soul. ~unknown

Flickr photo credit: philbertstreet

Posted by Kimberly at December 27, 2005 | Permalink

We observed our Christmas eve tradition of a late afternoon horseback ride in the foothills this year, complete with horses and hound (Blue Heeler). I doubt we looked as snappy as these members of the Atherstone hunt leaving the main square in Market Bosworth, England, today for their traditional Boxing Day hunt.

There wasn't a red coat among our party, but sheepskin coats and cowboy hats instead!

Traditionally, Boxing Day (wiki) is a day for fox hunting. Horse riders dressed in red and white riding gear with a pack of hounds chase foxes through the country side. However, the tradition of the December 26th hunt is changing. Fox hunting is slowly dying out due to the growing support for the fox.

Celebrated in many commonwealth and European countries, Boxing Day is also called the Second Day of Christmas, St. Stephen's Day, and Wren's Day. A practice known as Hunt the Wren is still practiced by some in the Isle of Man (wiki), where people thrash out wrens from hedgerows. Traditionally their feathers presented to households for good luck.

Winding among the big Ponderosa on our Christmas Eve ride, our jinglebob spurs accompanied the clip-clop of the horse's hooves and our meager attempts to sing The Twelve Days of Christmas. We never made it past five golden rings and had to catch our breathe from all of the laughing. Not knowing the words to Christmas carols is another tradition around here, it seems! Matilda the tenacious Heeler thrashed out several jackrabbits along with a cackling pair of piñon jays. As they beat out of the juniper in a fury of bright blue wings, it was difficult to determine exactly who was hunting who.

Happy holidays and happy Boxer Day, all!

Sources: CNN International
Photo Credts: Rui Vieira; growlingjackdyson

Posted by Kimberly at December 26, 2005 | Permalink

Englishman Hugh McLeod’s recent observations about a Colorado horse trainer along with his treatise on how to be creative started me thinking … If a secret recipe to horsemanship is to create curiosity, then how about this—

A secret recipe to life is to create curiosity.

An acquaintance of mine who is just retiring from a mid-level, bureaucratic government job of 25+ years told me yesterday that she is scared about the prospect of not coming to work any more. She’s been used to having someone telling her what to do each Monday through Friday for over two decades and isn’t quite certain how she’s going to fill what she seems to consider the impending gaping void of her retirement.

I asked her, “Well, what are you interested in?” expecting that she’d rattle off a whole list of interests and passions that she’d put off until retirement.

She eased back into her chair, face blank, and replied, “I dunno.”

As a horsewoman, I spend a lot of time tapping into my horse’s natural curiosity. The horse’s natural curiosity is key to his survival in the wild. It tells him to stay because it’s safe, or to flee because there’s a predator. This gives him confidence for living. And the horse’s natural curiosity requires me to think on my feet. It even necessitates that I be curious about him. I think most horse people will understand what I’m talking about here.

Oh, of course, there are best practices. John Lyons does it this way. Clinton Anderson’s recommendation is that. The Parelli method is thus and so. And while those are all fine methodologies, when it’s just me and my horse in the arena, the round pen, or at 8,000 feet on a snarl of switchbacks in the Pecos wilderness—I’m own my own. It’s time to intuit. Communicate. Create solutions. Inspire confidence in a very large animal and help him understand what it is I’d like him to do. And every horse is different, exponentially increasing the need for the creativity of the horseman.

As the mom of two grade schoolers, I get to observe natural human curiosity each and every day, which is a joy, even if that level of sheer energy causes me to want to pull my hair out every now and then and collapse into an exhausted heap. This simply underscores my point.

I’m convinced that most adults like my retiring acquaintance have lost their curiosity. The last time they remember being creative was doing something with that crayon in the third grade, and perhaps even then the teacher told them exactly how to draw the tree with three red circle apples hanging from a trio of celery stalk branches surrounded by a green cloud of leaves. I’m pretty sure the curiosity has been squashed out of most of them under the weight of day-to-day living in our culture.

We’ve managed to lose touch with the curious part of ourselves. Most of us are simply doing what we’re told. There’s something real important here about survival.

How about—

Just like the horse, we need to know when to stay or when to flee. A horse trainer in Colorado says, "Curiosity creates confidence." Now that's a recipe for living.

Life is too precious for “I dunno.”

Sources: Gaping Void; Horse Bliss
Flickr photo sources: notcatherinezeta; pesi

Posted by Kimberly at December 23, 2005 | Permalink

The flexibility of the spine is vital to the rider’s ability to achieve safe and effective horsemanship. Today, let’s learn a yoga exercise for equestrians that will not only create flexibility in the rider’s spine, but will also make you feel fantastic!

You may have heard friends or acquaintances who do yoga refer to their practice. That used to sound kind of mystical, intimidating, and even a bit lofty to me. Before I began my yoga practice, I envisioned groups of yogis in dimly lit rooms wearing those diaper thingies and chanting while twisting themselves into pretzels. (I strongly suspect there are many yogis out there who just might think that your jumping over a wall on the back of a thousand-pound horse with a mind of its own is pretty mystical as well! )

Your yoga practice simply means your individual experience with yoga as it evolves over time. Anyone can begin a yoga practice, even if you don’t feel very strong or very flexible to start. I began after I broke my back years ago. You can do yoga in your living room, your back porch, or your riding arena, anywhere. Later, we’ll look at some simple yoga exercises you can do on the back of your horse.

Some of you cowboy types may think that yoga is only for girls. (Is my cowboy husband reading this???) Not true! A flexible spine is healthy for everyone. Let’s begin—

Cat Cow for the Equestrian Athlete

Begin in neutral spine: Begin on your hands and knees, wrists beneath the shoulders, knees shoulder width apart. Keep your spine neutral.

Neutral Spine Visualization:Visualize your spine as a straight line between the shoulders and the hips. You might imagine this line stretching in two opposite directions from your mid section—out through the crown of the head and back through the tail bone. Keep your core activated, belly button to spine.

Cow: Inhale. Drop the belly in a saggy cow. Begin at the tailbone up the spine, so that the neck is the last part to move. Look up and keep your eyes soft.

Cat: Exhale. You can even hiss like a cat here. Go on, it’s fun! (Imagine an arena full of giggling kids doing this at vaulting practice.) Slowly flex your spine up in an arched position with the head down. Pull your bellybutton to your spine, and keep your abs activated. Your arms should be straight, but don’t lock your elbows.

Repeat: Continue the cat cow slowly and rhythmically. When warmed, do it in a fluid motion. And, remember, don’t hold your breath. B-r-e-a-t-h-e!

Benefits: Yoga exercises help to create both strength and flexibility—vital for the equestrian athlete who wants to ride his or her horse effectively and safely. With its benefit to the spine, this yoga exercise is called the Kundalini chiropractor by some! Practiced regularly, the Cat Cow exercise creates beautiful flexibility of the spine.

Your equine partner will thank you for enhancing your strength and flexibility!

Photo credits: J. and C., child photographers extraordinaire
Sources: About Yoga; Kundalini Yoga

Posted by Kimberly at December 23, 2005 | Permalink

Argentine horse tamer Fernando Noailles lies on 'Madrid' a five-year-old jet black stallion and puts the horse into a state bordering on the hypnotic at his farm in La Cabrera. Noailles is an expert in equine behaviour and clients from Patagonia to Paris seek him out when a recalcitrant stallion or mare needs breaking in. AFP - Wed Dec 21,10:58 AM ET

A lifelong horseman, Noailles relates how he learned taming techniques through non-violent means just as he entered his teens—

"I'm not an inventor, nor a witchdoctor. I simply use techniques which have been around for millennia, from a time when the man-horse relationship was closer."

I had an appaloosa mare once who would lay in the grass with me for hours. I'd lean against her, my back against her belly, and read a book or close my eyes and enjoy the warmth of the sun at 7,000+ feet.

This was particularly pleasant during our New Mexico autumns. The piñon dotted the high desert like the swirl of spots on Lacey Jay's rump, and way off in the distance, the first snow of the season capped the Sangre de Cristo mountains. Sometimes I'd sit cross-legged on the ground next to the horse, and she'd lay her big speckled head in my lap and doze. I'm sure my neighbors ,who lived on the hill above my pasture at the time, thought this was very interesting, although perhaps in a good way, because they did sell me their Andalusian mare years later. At that point, with an increasingly volatile husband (ex-husband for a good long time now), my home life was very much less-than-tame, which is probably why I found myself sitting outside in the grass with a nice spotted herd animal on a regular basis. My relationship with the appaloosa and the andalusian mares eventually helped me save my life. But that's another story.

Argentine horse tamer Fernando Noailles takes 'Madrid,' a five-year-old stallion out for a short trot on his farm in La Cabrera after taming him. AFP - Wed Dec 21,10:58 AM ET

Given Noailles' laying down technique, it appears that these horses are being brought to him for taming vs. training. While Lacey was a fairly wild and wooly critter when I got her home, I've never participated in or witnessed the laying down of a horse. The fellow who trailered Lacey to my place—where upon her arrival she ripped out of the back of the trailer, nostrils flaring, eyes rolling— spouted off, "Well, you've sure got yourself a little Indian pony. Can't be ridden. Can't be trailered. Can't be led." He should have seen us sunbathing six months later!

Noailles says of his horse taming—

"Since the day I started I've spent every day of my life with horses. The traditional style involved a lot of aggression and violence. Of course, in Argentina there are many wild horses and they respond in their own fashion. What holds true throughout is that the man is the predator, the horse, the prisoner. But you have to respect the relationship, deploy the horse's language. It's not a spoken language. It's body language, it's about energy, the vibrations we all radiate as human beings."

"We're not dealing with a bicycle. They're living creatures, with their good days and bad days. They each have their own personality and you can't treat them all the same way."

"The police brought me one once who was really dangerous, but you learn from the experience. What counts is the horseman's technique."

"I cannot perform miracles. Once, someone brought me an Arab stallion and asked me to give it a Spanish temperament. That's not possible."

"If respect, obedience and friendship are present, then you have the relationship."

Yes indeed.

Sources: La Doma Racional; Pedro Armeste; Pedro Armeste; Argentine Horse Whisperer Casts Worldwide Spell

Posted by Kimberly at December 22, 2005 | Permalink

Dawn bounced up in a bright red hat, waved at the world and skipped away. Up staggered the foal, its hooves were jelly-knots of foam. ~unknown

Flickr photo credit: seeA

Posted by Kimberly at December 21, 2005 | Permalink

Daylight savings time makes me grumpy. Just ask my husband.

I don’t see any purpose for these human meddlings with the calendar, particularly as it affects my ability to saddle up, ride my horses, and be outside. Neither do my horses.

But today is the winter solstice.

Here in the Northern Hemisphere it’s the shortest day of the year and the longest night. (Well, in the sense that the length of time elapsed between sunrise and sunset on this day is a minimum for the year. )

This winter solstice, I am looking out of my window towards the Rocky Mountain foothills and thinking of places like Iron Gate, Jack’s Creek, Round Mountain—the internal geography I carry around with me during these short, cold days. These are the high places my horses have carried me and my family in the sweet, green summers, where I have to sit a little taller in the saddle in a futile attempt to not be dwarfed by my surroundings. The backcountry would look foreign to me now, covered under a blanket of snow.

Did you know that "Solstice" is derived from two Latin words: "sol" meaning sun, and "sistere," to cause to stand still? Today, I’m feeling tired of being still. I’m longing to wander up those mountain trails.

Over at Nothing But Prairie and Sky, 19-year-old South Dakota cowboy Wacey, says it all―

It’s been 45 days since the snows have begun, I stare at the fire, and long for the sun, as the bitter winds blow through the mouth of the pass, I sit here and dream of the Buffalo Grass.

The ponies are shaggy, their coats have grown long, with their heads down they huddle, together as one, at the window my breath forms a mist on the glass, as I patiently wait for the Buffalo Grass...

For centuries, the Egyptians, Romans, Celts, etc. have viewed the Solstice as a time for celebration when they began to see the sun reviving and strengthening again.

I like that.

Guess I'll get out my saddle cleaning stuff and work on shining up that old saddle of mine. That's a good winter solstice afternoon type of job. Perhaps I'll spread the Forest Service maps out onto the living room floor in front of the wood burning stove and do a little planning. Or at least relive a few past glories.

You see, I'm waiting for the Buffalo Grass.

Flickr photo credits: Stephen.Andrew.smith
Sources: scienceworld.wolfram.com; Nothing But Prairie and Sky; religioustolerance.org

Posted by Kimberly at December 21, 2005 | Permalink

I'm tractorless with five horses.

Now I know that mucking stalls and raking paddocks is an excellent equestrian workout, burning something like 400+ calories an hour and strengthening those all-important core muscles ...

But while diamonds may be some girls' best friend, this late model John Deere 4710 four wheel drive tractor with a front end loader (Right now on eBay #7574250289) would certainly be mine. How much horse manure could I rake up with this baby?

And if you too are tractorless with a bunch of horses and horse chores on your hands, I'd love to hear what you'd do with this sweet John Deere.

Posted by Kimberly at December 21, 2005 | Permalink

One of the most important factors in maintaining a healthy body is a flexible spine. The yogis say that youth is determined by the flexibility of your spine. How can this help us achieve safe and effective horsemanship?

The equestrian spectator may think that we riders just perch on top of our horses while the horse does all the work! However, if you’ve spent some time in the saddle, you know that horseback riding is a highly athletic endeavor. In fact, riding is a whole body activity. As riders, we integrate all of the muscles in our body to move effectively and fluidly with our horse’s movement.

Dressage riders are concerned with keeping the horse straight. Keeping the horse straight involves teaching him to bend his spine along the curve of the circle. We seek to develop flexibility of the spine of our equine partner and to develop the muscles of his back.

Developing a strong, flexible spine wiki is equally important for the equestrian athlete. Strong back muscles are vital to protecting the rider’s spine. This is important for the full gamut of equestrian activities―from the vaulter to the dressage rider to the barrel runner to the outdoor enthusiast who heads into the backcountry with a string of pack horses for a week!

Back pain is a common complaint of adults, and I’ve seen it preclude some adults from many activities they enjoy, including riding. The cause of back pain is usually a lack of flexibility and lack of development of the stabilizing muscles in the back and stomach. Undeveloped back and stomach muscles can lead to over-bending the back, sagging with gravity, if you will. When you carry yourself through life with this type of posture, the discs between the vertebrae as well as the joints in the back get squeezed. And eventually this can damage them. There are also nerves running through the center of the spine, and these can get pinched in the absence of back and stomach muscle strength, which may result in pain.

When I found myself recovering from a broken back 14 years ago, I discovered that a flexible spine is not only something I’d taken for granted, but a key to good health, especially for us riders. A flexible, strong spine and back can also enhance our performance as riders and keep us safer in the saddle. It also helps me keep up with my two kiddos, take care of five horses, and do the things I want to do each day.

So, I’m with the yogis―at 44 I like the idea that my youth may not be determined by the fine lines around my eyes, the few extra pounds around my middle, or the laugh wrinkles on my face. But by the flexibility of my spine!

Let’s look at some exercises for a flexible spine. Don’t worry, you don’t have to be able to perform a death-defying back bend (that’s how I perceive backbends, anyway), unless you want to! I’ll be teaching you stretching exercises from yoga, pilates, and dance. Many of these I’ve learned in my vaulting practice.

And, before you begin any exercise regimen, be sure to speak with your doctor. Additionally, my daughter and I took these photos with my draft horse for fun. I wouldn’t recommend that you do yoga exercises in the paddock with a Percheron unless you know him really really well. My three-year-old Tobias pictured here just happens to make a wonderful ballet bar. And big friendly fellow that he is, he thinks it’s lots of fun!

The first and foremost rule of horsemanship is always―be safe.

Sources: kundaliniyoga.org; Equine Sports: A Partnership in Fitness; Gray's Anatomy

Posted by Kimberly at December 20, 2005 | Permalink

A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. ~Confucius

The physical therapist showed up in my hospital room near the end of the first of my nearly two-week stay. “Fell off a horse, did we?” was the first thing she said to me.

My brain was still muddled from all of the pain killers, and my tongue felt thick as I tried to explain to her that the horse and I had fallen together into this gigantic hole in the arroyo that had been excavated practically right out from under us.

I didn’t want her to think I was a bad or sloppy rider, which is the thought that had been antagonizing my morphined-up mind for several days. But the diminutive woman merely nodded her head, and before I knew it, she had me sitting up in bed, back brace strapped around me. I fiddled with a few of the latches and hooks on the damn thing and said it looked like some kind of medieval torture device. She laughed. And then so did I.

What else can you do when you’re broken in half?

She told me with the same brisk cheerfulness you’d expect from an English nanny that we were going to take a walk down the hallway. My face must have betrayed my reticence, because she might as well have told me that we were going to run a marathon. She wrapped a big cotton band around my waist and held firm to the loose end with a capable looking hand. I could see her bicep bulging beneath the sleeve of her uniform. In fact, her whole body was as wiry as a Doberman Pinscher’s beneath her scrubs. It crossed my mind that you'd have to be built like that to do this for a living. For a moment, all of the good working strength of the body that I'd taken for granted for thirty years seemed irretrievable. Lost. Gone. Then she said, "Come on, let's do this." And I stepped onto the floor from the hospital bed. The physical therapist walked me up and down the hospital corridor as if I were a colicky horse. One slow step at a time across acres of sparkling linoleum. I took a sip of water from the fountain near the nurse's station in between laps.

Nearly each time I saw the neurologist, he told me that I was very lucky to be walking. He said I’d probably be a little shorter with the compression fractures of two vertebrae. "I can deal with that", I told him. "The walking thing's what I've been concerned about. "

I spent a year in physical therapy. A year strapped in a big white brace from pelvis to chin, although I managed to sneak it off every now and then to try and feel normal. At the beginning, the therapists had me exercising in a swimming pool at the same time the spa held the senior citizen’s water aerobic class. Those blue haired ladies moved like aquatic prima ballerinas compared to me as I doggedly marched up and down between the painted lines on the blue concrete floor of the pool, swinging my arms through the lukewarm water, eyes and nostrils stinging from the excess of chlorine. I remember looking at this frail body that couldn't possibly be mine in the locker room mirror and biting back a flood of tears.

As I got stronger, the physical therapists introduced me to yoga, although they didn’t tell me it was yoga at the time. I didn’t have a word for it for several years, but I’ve been doing it ever since. Thirteen months after the accident, I bought myself a four-year-old appaloosa mare and began to ride again. Very slowly, at first, until soon we were exploring the barrancas and the bosque (wiki) together. I was back in the saddle once more.

And just last weekend at vaulting practice, I managed a spigot (kind of a standing splits riding on the horse's outside shoulder in front of the surcingle) at a canter for the very first time. Actually, I did it twice! I rushed home after practice just to tell my husband what his 44-year-old wife can do and got a big "w-o-w." It's nice to have a fan club at home.

There’s an awful lot in between here and there. And the journey continues.

Flickr Photo Credits: kasia_hc; Rock_and_Racehorses

Posted by Kimberly at December 19, 2005 | Permalink

Nearly every evening for a couple of weeks, my husband and I went down to the paddock and simply … sat. Now that may not sound very inspiring, I admit. But the change in this abused horse's behavior was.

Initially, the horse stayed as far away from us as possible. Each time we entered the paddock, she would very proactively turn her back to us until all we could see were those speckled, branded hindquarters. Her message was a clear, “I can’t stop you from coming in here, and you can’t make me look at you or have anything to do with you.” Then after a couple of days, when the horse realized that we were merely going to sit and not try to approach her, her natural curiosity began to get the best of her.

Initially, it appeared as a surreptitious, sideways look in our direction. The horse didn’t seem to want us to know that she was even mildly curious about us. I swear I’d catch her looking at me, and then she’d look away! Then a few days later, she was facing in our direction from a safe distance in the paddock. We made a point of keeping our eyes down during most of these encounters, not looking directly at her. Most of the time, we turned our backs to her. This created even further curiosity.

Over time, the distance at which the little horse stood from us decreased, until she was standing just a few feet away. While I had my back turned to her, I could often see the horse’s shadow lengthen on the ground beside me as the sun began to drop. I could feel the horse behind me, sense her inquisitiveness, her desire to learn more about this sitter in her paddock. Pretty soon, she was standing only a few feet away with one hip cocked, resting a hind leg.

The horse didn’t become brave enough to nuzzle or touch us. And, frankly, Teyla may never be that friendly, or if she is, it will be years in the making, given her history. We didn’t want to make food part of the equation, so we didn’t tempt her with food. We wanted her to be curious about us, not the delicious sweet feed in the palm of a hand.

Eventually, I put a halter on her. This involved some slow chasing around the paddock, during which she gave me the dreaded Teyla hindquarter treatment, aiming those hindquarters straight at me, but I persevered. When I chased her a little to keep her feet moving, I was careful not to be too aggressive. My demeanor was just very dogged and very matter of fact. When her feet stopped moving, I stopped pursuing. Pretty soon she realized that if she stood still, she got to rest. I was eventually able to approach her at the shoulder and put the lead rope around her neck then slip the halter over her nose. She still stiffened her body and averted her eyes from me during this process, refusing to look at me in such close proximity, even though I spoke kindly to her. But the fact that she’d begun to realize that I wasn’t going to do anything bad to her was great progress for a horse with her background.

And we began just by sitting?

Yes!

Simple. Elegant. A solution towards creating curiosity and confidence. It’s also a good step in becoming friends with a horse.

One afternoon later, I took Teyla to the round pen. What happened there was pretty interesting.

Flickr Photo Credits: quicklykissme; josh; betweenyesandno;egocrash
Sources: Horse Bliss;
searchwebservices.com

Posted by Kimberly at December 16, 2005 | Permalink

Over at Horse Bliss, Darren and Mary write in Curiosity Creates Confidence―

“A secret recipe to horsemanship is to create curiosity. Rather than you approaching the horse, try drawing it towards you. This may take time depending on the horse’s conditioning. Horses that have not been exposed to human interaction or have had negative encounters with humans may let the fear drive them away more than a horse that has been handled humanely by humans.”

I knew that reaching our rescue horse, Teyla, was going to be quite a stretch. It was obvious that she’d had bad experiences with people.

I was amazed that, despite her history, she wasn’t what I'd exactly call mean. Yes, she’d done a highly effective job of cowing her previous owner by turning her hindquarters to him whenever he approached and refusing to let him handle her hind hooves.

But he told us that she’d never kicked or bitten him. And the fellow was true to his word. She has never attempted to kick or bite us either.

Instead, I'd call her scared. Nearly to death. Of people.

So we began our initial training―creating curiosity in a horse who was fearful, shut down, and had pretty much written off the entire human race as a waste of time. Through the horse’s natural curiosity, we were hoping to build her confidence in us. And it worked.

Our tools were simple: a plastic stool and a lot of patience.

As a technical professional in my day job, I know that often the simplest solution is the most elegant. An elegant solution― Oh, it’s a phrase we computer geeks love! What exactly does it mean?

An elegant solution, often referred to in relation to problems in disciplines such as mathematics, engineering, and programming, is one in which the maximum desired effect is achieved with the smallest, or simplest effort. (from www.searchwebservices.com)

And that’s exactly what I’m talking about here. Achieving the maximum desired effect in this fear-filled horse with something simple!

I'll explain more in my next post.

Flickr Photo Credits: quicklykissme; josh; betweenyesandno;egocrash
Sources: Horse Bliss;
searchwebservices.com

Posted by Kimberly at December 16, 2005 | Permalink

I broke my back in a riding accident fourteen years ago, when I was 30.

One moment the horse and I were enjoying a hand gallop through the deep sand of a New Mexico arroyo (wiki), and the next, we were tumbling headfirst into a 10-foot hole that hadn’t been there the day before.

Neither one of us saw it as we galloped right into the abyss.

I still remember thinking, as horse and I hung suspended in the ether for one surreal second, that we’d somehow recover. I gathered myself up into the best semblance of a jump seat I could manage, bridged the reins, and rode for my life. The wild hope that the mare would touch down on her front hooves to carry us through and out of this nightmare beat in my head almost as frantically as my heart was pounding in my rib cage. All illusions of control shattered, just as I expected every bone in my body to, as the horse careened forward, then flipped over backwards, hooves scraping against the hard blue sky.

I landed head first on the newly excavated earth, the breath bursting out of me, an explosion of pain. Somehow or other, I wound up laying spread eagle in the dirt road. And that’s when I knew. It was real bad. I’d been reduced to a rag doll. I rolled to the right in a fetal curl of agony, mouth and nose full of sand, and screamed.

The horse, miraculously, was fine. From where I lay, I checked her out from head to tail and remembered to breathe. She was grazing, tail swishing at a fly that's buzzing matched the steady drone in my brain. Air rushed into my lungs, a surge of relief, when I confirmed as best I could that she was standing squarely on all fours. The horse didn’t belong to me and was quite valuable. I’d been exercising her and six others for their owner. She looked up, ears pricked forward towards the rumbling of an engine.

I followed her gaze and saw a truck barrelling down the hill towards me. Self-preservation kicked in. I rolled onto my back and somehow managed to lift a leg so the driver would see me there and not run me over, which would have really been a sorry way to go.

Pretty soon after that, the ambulance came. I remember the EMTs taping me to a very large board and telling me not to move. As if I could.

I spent the next year in a back brace, trussed up from pelvis to chin. I never found out who’d brought in a backhoe and dug himself up some free sand in the middle of my arroyo for a construction project.

I did find out that for thirty years I’d taken my healthy body for granted.

I also discovered that the journey of a thousand miles does indeed begin with a single step.

Flickr Photo Credits: lomokey; lomokey

Posted by Kimberly at December 16, 2005 | Permalink

Instead of cattle, some cutting horse trainers are using bison. Apparently bison have much more stamina than cattle and rarely stand still, which makes them a good challenge for both horse and rider!

This from a recent Billings Gazette article―

Raising bison these days isn't just about giving consumers a different meat.

Now, instead of cattle, some who train cutting horses for competition are using the majestic animals that once thundered across the plains of the American West. Cutting horses are horses bred and trained for removing, or "cutting," cows or calves from a herd.

Some of the small, quick cutting horses are learning how to lead a cow out of a herd using a bison calf, but bovines are still the rule in competitions, said Tim Frasier. He trains cutting horses about 60 miles northwest of Dallas in Gainesville, where he also operates Texas Buffalo Exchange.

About 20 percent of cutting horse trainers use bison, according to one estimate.

"The bison are more sensitive to horses blocking them visually than cattle are," Frasier said. "I'm in them, and I'm going to stay with them."

One of the reasons bison are good animals for cutting horse training is that cattle become gentle too quickly and "don't want to play the game no more," said C.W. Tate, a trainer in Bowie. Bison have stamina, handle heat better than cattle and rarely stand still.

"They don't ever quit," said Tate, who has trained cutting horses for 25 years. "You can have one, and it'll stay fresh and last for three or four years, or maybe longer. Three (bison) will last you forever."

Those who compete in cutting horse events have good reason to care about how well their animals are trained. Each year the Fort Worth-based National Cutting Horse Association pays about $35 million in prize money, said Rebecca Brian, a spokeswoman for the association, which has 16,000 members in the U.S. and 22 other countries.

"It's a very big business," she said.

Are any of you bison owners? Done any cutting with these massive fellows? What’s it like keeping these big boys? I’d love to hear your comments!

Source: Billings Gazette
Flickr Photo Sources: jamesbarnes;shadowplay

Posted by Kimberly at December 9, 2005 | Permalink

I’ve been told by several horse trainers that training the rescue horse can be challenging, possibly even more so than training the adopted wild horse. But the benefits can be enormous, both for horse and rider.

In a previous post The Rescue Horse, I described our meeting a nine-year-old appaloosa mare, whom we decided to bring home last Spring. If Teyla (the name my husband gave her based upon the “T” and “A” branded on her hindquarters) could speak, I wonder what stories she might have to tell me?

The scrawl of brands across her shoulders and hindquarters seem to me a litany of her past bad experiences. And they’re not only written on her body. Those experiences penetrate deeper into the mind, heart, and soul of the horse―where they translate into behaviors like fear, shutting down, inability or unwillingness to engage, and lack of confidence.

How does the horse trainer break through that? How do you communicate to the abused horse that she’s not going to be hurt again? How does the trainer let the horse know that she’s now in a situation where the people around her will be kind and fair? How can you gently chip away at that protective coat of armor she’s wearing? How can the trainer gain the horse’s confidence?

These are all of the questions I asked myself as we loaded Teyla up into the trailer that Spring morning. Dennis led her up to the back of the Sundowner and she hopped in with surprising willingness. I guess she had no where else to go. As I climbed up onto the side of the trailer to check on Teyla before we began the trip home, I was struck by the horse’s two steely eyes staring into space, not outside, but inside. And I wondered what she saw there. I wondered if she would ever see me.

My experience is that bringing the rescue horse back takes a lot of time. A willingness to do the work. And some creativity. In the last few months we’ve made some progress, and I’m excited about it.

I’ll write more about undertaking this horse training challenge soon …

Flickr Photo Credits: Artamnesia;Hankerific

Posted by Kimberly at December 9, 2005 | Permalink

The mare lies down in the grass where the nest of the skylark is hidden. Her eyes drink the delicate horizon moving behind the song. Deep sink the skies, a well of voices. Her sleep is the vessel of Summer.
~ Vernon Watkens (1906-1967), Welsh poet

Flickr Photo Source: SimaSaeed

Posted by Kimberly at December 7, 2005 | Permalink

An historical re-enactment enthusiast rides his horse to the military camp.

This horse and rider re-enactment (wiki) business can be expensive.

In her article, The cost of … re-enacting a war,” Tamar Fleishman writes, “Taking part in historical re-enactments has become a fast-growing pastime. Although the battles are now make-believe, the competition at the higher levels of the hobby can be real, as re-enactment groups try to out-authentic their peers. That means more research, better reproduction gear―and more modern dollars spent chasing the look of the past.”

I attended a Civil War re-enactment at Rancho de Los Golondrinas in New Mexico several years ago. The reproduction gear of the cavalry men (and women) was extremely detailed and authentic―right down to the same type of underwear that would have been worn by a Civil War cavalryman! And you can't imagine how much I wished to be down there in the field with the re-enactors and their horses.

A history enthusiast practises his horse-riding skills near the Slavkov (Austerlitz) battlefield.

Ms. Fleishmans comments about cavalry re-enactors in particular. “Men wishing to re-enact a cavalry soldier pay a particularly high price. All horses on the battlefield have to be attired with appropriate equipment. In addition to the expense of saddles, saddle bags, blankets, and bridles, the owner also has to keep the horse shod as well as owning a large truck and trailer for hauling. Cavalry re-enactors often drive their horses all across the United States to be a part a particular re-enactment. “