The Red Rock Pasture

I am still grinning about the incredibly gorgeous and fun ride we had yesterday. It was a spectacular fall morning, sunshine and golden leaves everywhere. And I was riding this amazingly cool horse! Flyboy really proved his mettle today and left me in total awe of his levelheadedness. I am really looking forward to his future as an endurance partner; it’s looking bright and we are going to be a good team!

There were six of us heading out this morning at ten o’clock. Tammy and her horse, Joker, trailered up with me. It took a few minutes to saddle up once we arrived, and I had to rearrange saddle pads again, trying to find a combo that would help my saddle fit Fly’s narrow build a little better. (A couple of weeks ago I fitted my saddle pad with shims in the wither area, and that seemed to work. I discovered a problem though, after my long ride in Dog Valley. The shims lifted the front of the saddle causing pressure points under the cantle on Fly’s loin. The hair had actually been rubbed thin. Needless to say, I removed the shims.) I double padded him today, added water bottles, and my lunch, donned helmet and crash vest, and we were ready.

This trail drops 1600 feet in four miles—all single track mountain terrain, including steep hills, boulders, logs, fallen trees to bushwhack around, side hills, ledges, multiple creek crossings, steep and muddy creek banks, and deep gullies. In effect, this is not a trail for beginners. Not beginner riders, and not beginner horses. It is wilderness country at its best.  Our goal was a tiny cabin, built in the early 1930’s and still used by the occasional hunter. The cabin can’t be seen from the trail, and only those who have been shown the way can find it.

Flyboy was excited by the fact that there were six of us today. He was a little anxious to start with, but within the first mile he settled nicely and followed Sharon’s foxtrotter mare down the trail. It was truly glorious—dark pines accented by golden leafed quakies shimmering in the breeze. Bronzed oaks everywhere. We could not have asked for a prettier day to be out on the trail. We followed the winding trail down the mountainside to meet the creek. We then followed the creek down the canyon to the valley floor.

Fly valiantly handled every question he was presented with. He maneuvered his way over logs and deadfall. He picked his way over boulders on the ledges. He kept his feet under himself while skittering down steep muddy trails to the creek below. He braved his way past cows on the trail (Janey’s confidence rubbed off on him for that, thank goodness), and he nimbly followed the twisty trail all the way down. He wasn’t even sweaty when we arrived at the Red Rock Pasture four miles later. That was totally amazing.

The little cabin was how I remembered it, although it seems to be leaning a little more. Someone had strung a tie line between a couple of trees, so I dismounted and loosened my girth, removed Fly’s bridle, and tied him with a long enough lead that he could reach the grass at his feet. The other riders tied to nearby trees. All six horses were glad for a break.  We sat on logs in front of the cabin and ate our lunches in the cool fall sunshine.

Forty-five minutes later we were in the saddle heading back the way we came. Uphill for the most part this time! Flyboy actually seems to excel on uphill climbs. He felt very strong and even confident climbing up this trail. He drank at the first creek crossing we came to. He drank again at the second and third creek crossings. (Endurance horse material here, people!) He climbed those steep creek banks like nobody’s business, too. He felt stronger with every mile. I was amazed at this boy. When we arrived back at the trailer, he was the only horse not caked with sweat. He was sweaty under his girth and a little under his breast-collar, but that was it. I don’t think he was even very tired. Wow. I am still grinning.

"Hey! I see a cougar over there!"

The biggest issue I had today was feeling like I don’t really have a good whoa in place. He wasn’t really pushy or trying to run away with me or anything like that, but I don’t feel I have a really good emergency stop. If I ask for a straight halt, he sometimes braces against the bit and runs through it. A one rein stop works, of course, but that is useless on a narrow ledgy trail or any trail too narrow to turn around on. I want a better straight halt. Flyboy doesn’t understand half-halts at all, but we are working on that, too. At the rate he is progressing, I think it will come. 

Flyboy was booted on all fours in Easyboot Gloves with Keno’s semi-squashed comfort pads in the fronts. He went very well in them; all four stayed in place through all the rigorous terrain. The pads may have changed the boot fit just enough to rub his heel bulbs a little, though. I will have to experiment and see if that was the problem, or if it was something else. It wasn’t a big deal, but this was only eight miles. It might be different on a twenty-five mile ride.

It was a great day for Flyboy.