ISO ... pinecones

Annual Trail Rides: 112/200 (5/12)

Two days of rest and anti-inflammatories, and Im ready to get in the saddle again. It was a bit of a rush to cram in a ride and the drive time of 2 hours in my 3.5 hour window between conference calls ... but it's nice to know with Q that I can (usually) just tack up and ride. Such a relief.

So we are playing a fun game with our local trail club ... horse bingo! So, today I have to go on the hunt for a 7 inch pinecone. I have a fabric tape to measure with, my phone to take the evidence picture, and this would give me three squares on my bingo card. My two other X's are for a picture and trail location of a picnic table, and a picture and location of a horse crossing sign. First ones to get four corners, straight line, or circumference win special prizes that include club gear, photo shoot, and a BEMER session.

So something like a treasure hunt meets bingo, where a new clue/square is published on Facebook every 48 hours. A great way to get the whole family to participate.

I left the house, in between conference calls, with a tight agenda when my husband says "thunderstorms coming, watch out and be careful". Ok, I think, but completely dismiss the idea as we have had multiple days of rain forecasts and nothing much comes out of it. Despite the fact that we had deadly thunderstorms (with a surprising tornado) last week and its clear that our climate is increasingly unstable.

So we set out on trail with a darkening sky. Given the heat and humidity, my horse was sweaty before we got to the mounting block. I decided to keep my ride short and just head to a few nearby sectors with lots of pinecones to find an extra big one. Q gave me a lovely jog on our way out and then, when I got out into a clearing I looked up and saw black. A thick wall of black clouds cut across the horizon and seemed to be coming my way. Hmm, I guess Ill cut this ride short.

But, ever the Type A, it did not stop me from going into the forest ahead, looking down and seeing some biggish pinecones and getting off to find the biggest one and make sure it meets the 7 inch threshold.  I pulled out my fabric tape that my lovely husband had tooled me with and took a picture for the bingo.

The drizzle began, I quickly got back on, and decided to trot home. The black sky was almost on top of me, and I decided to pull out Q's big trot and WOW he read my mind! I opened my hips, thought "big trot" and BAM there it was. Amazing.

We were almost home in double-time and the air was electric. Something moved in the bush, and Q bolted into a fearful gallop. My reins were loosey goosey so my reaction time was a bit slow. By the second stride I had shortened my reins but did not yet have contact. And even though we were still in a gallop, I felt the connection between us instantly as he gave me his ears and asked "what now"?

I was gushing with joy at how quickly he came back to me when he was clearly disturbed and in a panic state. I honestly could not ask for anything better.

And it reminded me of what my wise old-timer coach told me a few decades ago: "You can't make a bomb proof horse. There will always be something that will trigger their survival mechanism. It could be a falling tree, it could be a helicopter. You just can't predict all the possibilities. But if you can get your horse to come back to you within a few strides, that's success".

As we trotted back to the barn, taking the busy road as a shortcut, I had a huge smile on my face. I jumped off at the door, walked in the barn, and the downpour began.