Tuesday, February 10, 2015


My knee was feeling well enough to do a few more specialized kicks in kick boxing class, so I decided it was ready for horseback riding.  The kick boxing instructor worked us hard.  My poor daughter had been at work and attending meetings and appointments for 12 hours straight, so her tank ran out of gas right before the end of class.  She was so tired she just couldn't kick anymore.  One gal cracked me up by yelling out, "Why am I not skinny yet after all this hard work?"

I took the dogs outside and got walloped with more dump truck noises -- this time even closer to our house.  Yet a third neighbor has begun bringing in sand or fill dirt.  Construction is contagious, I guess.  I decided that was a good time to ride far, far away from my neighborhood on a horse so that I could escape the noise pollution.

I rode Shorty.

Looking back at the blind hill in the road.  One of the neighbors raced past us before we reached the street, but he slowed a little when he saw us.  He was coming from the direction where I have visibility, so there wasn't any problem.  It's just a problem when cars come flying up over the hill, because the driver can't see me until he or she is on top of me and I can't hear the vehicle until it crests the hill.  If I could hear or see them coming, I simply wouldn't cross the street until they pass me, but the hill serves as a noise and sight barrier.

Look how green the ground is.  It's actually a lot greener in person.  There's grass everywhere, so you've got to let your horse know that you are out there to get down to business and not there to snack.  Lostine is such a well-behaved horse in so many ways, so it didn't take much to get her to focus.  Until we crossed the main trail toward home...

Then I had to pick up the reins and start steering.  For the most part, I can ride Lostine on autopilot, except for when she's decided it's time to go home.

Lostine is very sensitive to even the lightest shift in your weight or movement.  Each time I reached up to press the shutter release on my Go Pro helmet cam, she flicked an ear back to listen.  If my finger twitched, she'd start turning in the direction of the rein I was holding when my finger twitched.  So, I practiced sitting as still as possible and practiced my breathing.  Kick boxing class has made me more conscious of how I breathe.  I also talked to Lostine telepathically because people are everywhere this time of year and I didn't want anyone eavesdropping.  I told her how much I love her and what a great mare she is.  And I thanked her for being my partner and always working with me instead of against me.

It was a very peaceful ride.  We had one jettison forward when my leg brushed past a bush branch and made an odd noise, and one elevator drop to her knees when she stepped on a rock and rolled her hoof, but in both cases she corrected the situation and got right back on track.  She started her neck stretching while walking down the street toward home, which is her way of letting me know that she's feeling sore.

While we were out in the desert, I spotted a FedEx truck coming up my street, and I was expecting a delivery for my daughter, so we chased the truck to see if it stopped at my house.  It did.  Lostine somehow understood that I wanted to pick up the mail, so she took me to the mailbox, but I kept her moving down the driveway because I didn't want to have to carry the mail on horseback.  We got partly down the driveway and I was thinking that the FedEx driver would have left the package on the porch, and as if she read my mind, Lostine turned around and headed for the porch.  I turned her back toward the barn, because I would have had to dismount to get the package anyway, and I may as well put the horse away before dealing with that.

I really have to be careful about what I think and visualize when I am riding this horse.  She's psychic and willing to please.


fernvalley01 said...

sweet old girl!

achieve1dream said...

Lostine is so awesome!!! I wish she didn't get sore so you could ride her more often. :)