Strange sightings

Years ago, we would occasionally see parked cars hidden on the trails. Sometimes a guy looking for a spot to pee, sometimes mushroom hunters, sometimes bird watchers. It was unusual enough that my horse at the time, an AQHA superhorse called Jazz, would pull a mighty big spin and unseat me. Jazz was my first colt, and professionally trained, but so high maintenance at times. I rode with a leverage bit and spurs to “put him to work” at the first sign of silly business. So many trail rides were spent doing gymnastics to capture his attention.

Meanwhile, Q doesn’t even know what a crop is. 

Riding a big athletic and reactive horse required me to “level up” and Im grateful. Both the horse and I received much more coaching and training than I ever thought I would need, including annual bootcamps. I took some pretty rough tumbles with that horse and still have the scars and injuries to remind me.

Anyways, yesterday we saw a parked car. Now this is even more unusual since the city put up locked fences across the road access points to prevent cars from getting on the trails. But there it was, behind the locked fence.

What did Q do? Nothing. Of course I tensed. Long term muscle memory. Q let me take a few pictures for evidence and off we went.

It was a mystery but the forest was full of intrigue yesterday as I came across some unannounced tree cutters in a red van. I talked with them a bit, to find out the city had hired them to remove some dangerous trees from the last windstorm. As I passed them on a narrow stretch of ravine, one of them pulled a 100 yard rope next to Qs feet. I held the reins, expecting a bolt, and asked the man three times to hold. What did Q do? Nothing.

We passed by some city workers digging ditches, working a backhoe, and installing a new set of water wells with tremendous noises from all the machinery. What did Q do? Raised his head, gave some concerning ear wiggles and tightened his back. I had stopped breathing.

🤷‍♀️ 

I spend so many hours on the trail where nothing ever happens. Many rides I see no one. Not a dog walker or rider in sight. It is so easy to get complacent with the illusion of safety. We are occasionally burst out of our bubble when a fellow rider gallops past on a nearby trail, or a loose dog disrupts our reverie, or a surprise mountain biker spooks our horse. And we blame them, and the city or club that doesn’t do enough to protect us.

But we were never safe.

I have also ridden long enough on these trails (30+ years now) to know that some crazy shit does happen. Runaway double sleighs. More than once. Culver crumbling under a rider. Helicopters hovering over ravines. Runaway emus. 

There is no amount of preparation that can help you out of those circumstances. You can hope your horse will check in with you, the supposed “brains of the operation” and that you will be relaxed and breathing enough to communicate back with your horse. And you can hope that your fitness level will be strong enough to keep you balanced in the saddle to manage whatever jump, spin, bolt comes your way. And you can hope you are lucky enough to avoid any ditches, rocks or trees in your path. That’s it.

Stay connected, stay present, and hope for the best.

A much loved local trainer is in a coma, clinically deceased, after suffering a massive stroke at 41. They are supposed to end her suffering today, leaving behind a beautiful 5 year old child. Her 80 year old mother, in her grief and trauma, tried to drive her daughters car home but got lost on the wrong road and ended up on the horse trail for several kilometers, up and down ravines with thick sand, until she got stuck behind the locked gate. This is her car.

There is nothing that prepares us for this.

But.

Stay connected, stay present, and hope for the best.

And seize the day.