Saturday, November 24, 2018

Trail Log: 11-24-2018



  • Trail: Weiser River Trail - Presley to 2nd. Gate
  • Miles: 8.5
  • Riders: Self
  • Horses: Jack
  • Dogs: Shade and Hank


Notes: Taking advantage of the beautiful weather while it lasts. As soon as the sun peaked out after 24 hours of rain, wind and power outages - I saddled up Jack and threw him in the trailer. I normally have a destination in mind before pulling out of the driveway. If not before leaving the driveway, at least by the time I reach County 70. Do I go left, or do I go right? I went straight with the intentions of heading toward Steck Park. The puddles left by the last 24 hours of rain changed my mind. As wet as things were in the flats, it was bound to be slicker than snot in the clay foothills. I turned right on Indian Head toward the WRT.

This time of year is prefect weather for my dog Shade. She trotted along exploring rock formations in pursuit of the not-so-elusive rock-chuck inhabitants. It does my heart good to see her dart in and out of the river like a dog half her age.

I decided not to pony J'Lo. I'd ride her before the weekend was over. It felt good plodding down the trail, just me, Jack and the dogs. After a few days of riding a 13 hand little mare, Jack felt like a giant. I could barely get on. Seriously. I swear he wasn't that tall the last time I got on. Maybe I've shrunk? I hear as a person ages their body shrinks...except for their nose and ears. If that's true, I'm in deep dodo.

Jack has a fairly smooth, long-strided lope. Something didn't feel right. I struggled to keep my butt in the saddle. I could easily pass for a jockey, knees bent, body hunched over my steeds withers. Jack isn't one you want to give the wrong signals. A nice, leisurely lope can rapidly turn into race down the homestretch. I dismounted, snapped a couple of pictures and prepared to climb back in the saddle. I looked up at the ominous stirrup looming at what seemed like yards over my head. I was going to need climbing gear to ascend this mountain. I flipped the stirrup leathers over. Who the heck has been riding in my saddle? Whoever it was is about the size of a yard gnome. I dropped the stirrups a good 4 inches. Much better. I wasn't shrinking just yet, thank god. It's still a ways to hoist your leg but it's  doable. A couple good hops and I'm back in the saddle looking less like a yard gnome perched on an elephant.


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