Monday, November 18, 2013

The Day of the Big Machines

I was behind schedule this morning and doubted I would get to trail ride, but P.S. talked me into it.  I wasn't sure who to ride, because Bombay had ripped his hair and a little skin out in places where the saddle would sit, Lostine needed the saddle that Gabbrielle needed, and Rock's shoulder injury is still somewhat fresh.  However, Rock seemed to be moving okay, so I took a chance on him, promising him I would get off and lead him home if he showed any signs of discomfort.

P.S. mentioned that she saw helicopter blades just above the roof of my neighbor's house, so a helicopter must have landed either in the desert or in someone's yard.  I heard a helicopter arrive and leave while I was in the shower.  The whole house was shaking and I got scared thinking it was going to crash into my house.  Then the thought of having people finding me naked in the rubble really upset me, but the sound and vibration dissipated and everything was okay.  However, since the helicopter had flown so low over my roof twice, I began questioning whether it was a good day to ride a horse because obviously some pilot had another agenda that could conflict with my hobby.  I'm not sure what all that was about.  Maybe someone had to get air lifted to a special hospital.

We were short on time and were rushing.  I noticed that my cinch wasn't tight enough and the saddle was slipping from side to side, but I figured my balance was good enough that I could keep it upright.  Rock hasn't spooked on me yet while I've been riding him, so I shouldn't have to worry about sudden movements dislodging the saddle.  But then again, he could stumble and fall.  Even the most well broke horses have accidents.  We headed out to the end of the driveway and I suddenly realized that P.S. forgot her helmet.  I wanted to go back to get that, so I just asked her to tighten my cinch while she was on the ground.  Boy, did it need a lot of tightening.  It was probably good that things worked out the way they did.  We had to shorten our ride due to the delays, but better safe than sorry.

We took a wide, sandy main trail since the horses just had their hooves trimmed and Rock's Renegades hadn't arrived yet.  I also wanted to avoid hills so as to not put stress on his shoulder.

When we reached a busy street, three bicyclists raced past in addition to several cars and trucks.  Then when we reached the trail toward home, I had quite a struggle with Rock.  I was pulling his head and urging him forward to cross the trail and not take it, and he was side-passing down the trail toward home.  It was disappointing the he outright refused to follow my direction.  P.S. had to pass us and call out to Rock to follow her.  He did.  There was a time when I had to do that for her and Gabbrielle, but now Gabbrielle is the obedient, confident trail horse.

When we reached the street to home, we heard a trash truck coming.  I told P.S. to hang back and wait.  I knew it was the green trash truck, because the blue one had already come by.  The green trash truck driver races around like he's on his way to an emergency.  Sure enough, he roared right past us and didn't even attempt to slow down.  Then we had to wait for him to make his pick up and turn around, then race past us a second time.  While waiting, Rock was trying to push through me holding him back and go through the gate to cross the street anyway.  When I couldn't hold him back anymore, I turned him in a circle.  I think once he saw the trash truck race past in the other direction he realized that I had good reason to hold him back.  Maybe he'll listen better in the future.

Goofball.

1 comment:

achieve1dream said...

I love his stripe. It's so cute!! I wonder why he was being a brat... I guess they all have their days. :) I'm glad you got a short ride in. Oh and I'm glad you went back for the helmet and tightened the girth. Definitely better safe than sorry!!