My Christmas Vacation

Some folks have been after me to write about something other than horses.  So, I've revived one of the other pages in my blog.   http://randomnotesfromtheroad.blogspot.com/

This post is a "what I did on my vacation" type of essay.  Hope you enjoy it.

Hint:  It was Christmas in the Philippines, and there was a LOT of food involved.

Into The Woods (Cocoa pt 3)

Here's part 3 of my series on Cocoa the Mustang.  The other two articles are titled "Cocoa the Mustang" and "Living History with Cocoa".

Another activity I enjoyed with Cocoa was historical trekking.  http://coht.org/
This involves studying the people, events, and material culture of a specific place and time in history.  That knowledge and equipment are then taken into the field.  A small group of us had camped and hunted with our 18th century gear in the Powhatan Wildlife Management Area of Virginia on foot on several occasions.  I wanted to add another element, the packhorse.  Our group usually gathers for an 18th century squirrel hunt in January of each year.  The Virginia weather in January can be almost anything.  We've experienced warm, pleasant days with moderate evening temperatures, as well as snow, freezing rain, and single digit temperatures.  Being prepared for any weather while on foot often means carrying heavy loads of bedding and shelter in on our own backs.  With the horse along, we can bring in plenty of extra blankets and such.  The canvas used to protect the load doubles as shelter in camp. 

To prepare, I corresponded with some folks who had much more experience than me, W.D. Bennet and Lane Linenkohl.    Both posses a wealth of hands on knowledge.  Mr. Bennet suggested the book "Horses, Hitches, and Rocky Trails", by Joe Beck.  With my confidence bolstered, I worked up a practice load of camp gear.  I didn't yet have a pack saddle, so I made a pack bag to drape over my riding saddle.  I hitched Cocoa to a fence post and experimented with it until I had a, more or less, balanced load.  Then I practiced lashing it down and leading her around the field with it.  She took it all in good humor, so I figured we were ready.



Practice load of camp gear

 Our traditional date for our little trek is the Martin Luther King holiday weekend in January.  I arranged for a fellow with a horse trailer to drop Cocoa off at the trail head on Saturday, and pick her up Monday morning.  Our group of woodsmen gathered there on Saturday morning, and we prepared to disappear into the woods.  Going into the back country overnight is a bit different from a day jaunt into the same area.  Of course you take the food, shelter and emergency kit for the people involved.  The horses also need the same consideration.  In our case, we had only one horse.  The bulk of her load was horse fodder and equipment.  The rest consisted of my own personal gear, extra blankets, and the bedrolls of a couple of the other guys.  It took a while to get all this organized, balanced, and bundled.  Some of our party forged ahead to do some hunting.  A couple others stayed with Cocoa and me.  We agreed to meet at a pond about a mile or so in. 

Cocoa's load, once it was assembled was an ungainly looking affair.  The pack bag worked as before.  The added bedrolls and such looked a bit lumpy, but were balanced.  The big difference was the half bale of hay I had wrapped in canvas and lashed to the top of the riding saddle.  The english style saddle had no "cradle" for the bundle to rest in.  It was simply held in place with rope, gravity, and luck.  We managed to get it in to the rendezvous point without much trouble.

gathering at the rendezvous point

The campsites we have used in previous years are secluded, and well off the main trail.  Most have no clear pathway into them.  All are too thickly overgrown for a loaded packhorse to get into.  However, we did not want to stay in the open.  The weather was cold and windy, with a hard freeze predicted overnight.  We expected freezing rain to move in on Sunday.  The advance hunters had located a sheltered area clear enough for the horse to get into.  The site was more than adequate.  It was mixed hardwoods and pine with a thick canopy overhead.  There was a clear area to picket the horse, and a few yards away was room for our own needs. 


Our camp, just inside the treeline

 We spent the better part of the morning setting up a good tight camp.  Then, most fanned out to hunt.  I stayed in camp and tended to Cocoa.  She had done well, despite her ungainly load.  Here, on the trail, is where Cocoa excelled.  Her instincts, molded as a young, wild horse, came to the fore and served us both well.  She was calm and dutiful, yet alert and observant.  I knew that I should pay attention if she stopped on the trail and stared intently into the woods.  We have no large predators to worry about in our part of Virginia.  But we were on public land and there were possibly other hunters about.  Her instincts also showed on the picket line in camp.  Unlike many domestic horses, she didn't bury her head in her pile of hay.  Instead, she munched contentedly as she kept a watchful eye on our surroundings.  I took her to water at the creek morning and evening.  She never drank immediately.  Instead, she chose a spot, then gave the area a good 360 degree visual sweep.  She didn't move her feet, only her head and ears.  When she drank, she took a few good swallows, then raised her head for another look around.  She continued this way until she had drunk her fill.  There was nothing at all nervous in her demeanor.  Only the calm routine of being constantly aware of her surroundings.  That is a rather desirable trait for a horse carrying hunters gear into the back country. 




Cocoa on the picket line

 The campsite itself worked well.  The predicted freezing rain arrived Saturday evening.  Our canvas shelter became encrusted with ice.  We stayed warm and dry underneath it.  Sheltered by the trees and terrain, Cocoa had stayed warm and dry as well. 

Packing out was a simple matter.  We no longer had the hay to worry about.  But, we were already making plans for the next outing.  I had an Appalachian style pack saddle being made.  And Mark Jeffries, my companion on many of these excursions, and Cocoa's previous owner, had acquired another mount.....

Next time:  More horses and better equipment!

Back to Work From the Holidays

 

I've been traveling overseas for close to a month, and haven't put in any updates here.  My wife and I were in the Philippines for the holidays.  We also spent a good deal of time tending to some business on the ranch that will become our retirement home in a few years.

We had a well dug, and plotted out the locations for our house, barn, stock pens, garden, and pasture divisions.  Our plans are for a mixed use farm.  We'll have a kitchen garden, cattle, goats, and of course, horses.  I'll be writing about that adventure on another blog.  I'll keep folks posted when that site is up and running.

Now that we're back, I'll have another installment on my series about Cocoa the mustang posted shortly!

Living History With Cocoa (pt 2)

As promised, here's more about Cocoa the Mustang. 

Once I found that she was a solid, usable horse, I started making plans.  My other hobbies include living history http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Historical_recreation , and historical trekking http://coht.org/ .  My focus in these activities is the colonial frontier, and I intended to include Cocoa. 

The living history events that I attend are generally held at public historic sites.  That means there are lots of people around, with lots of kids who want to pet any animal they encounter there,  I didn't anticipate much of a problem in that regard.  As far as Cocoa was concerned, interaction with humans wasn't a favorite part of her job description.  But, she would stand still for as long as I needed.  My main concern was the noise.  These events usually involve battle reenactments and weapons demonstrations.  I had no intention of turning Cocoa into a cavalry horse.  We would be operating in the civilian sphere.  But there would be no escaping the sound of the musketry and artillery fire.  I had no idea whether or not Cocoa had ever been exposed to gunfire. 

Without a company of redcoats to fire musket volleys for me, I did the next best thing.  I signed up to ride in the local Christmas parade.  The riders at the stable I was boarding at always participate in this parade, so all I had to do was join in.  Cocoa endured the indignity of having Christmas ribbons and bows plaited into her mane and tail, and glitter painted onto her hooves.  All of us riders were in black pants, red shirts and Santa Claus hats.  The parade went really well.  Cocoa wasn't nervous, but she wasn't relaxed either.  The holding area was a field of grass.  She simply ate, and kept a wary eye on all the goings on.  Along the route, I found she was most comfortable in the middle of the street.  That kept her an equal distance from the crowds on either side of us.  I experimented with riding close to one side or the other.  Cocoa didn't misbehave, but she made it clear that she did not think it necessary to be so close to all those noisy people.  The middle suited her just fine, and I agreed.  Her performance gave me confidence that she could handle a living history program without any problem.  She took marching bands and random firetruck sirens right in stride.  With the parade under our belt, I set our sites on a demonstration at Fort Dobbs State Historic Site, near Statesville, North Carolina.  http://www.fortdobbs.org/ 





Living History at Fort Dobbs, North Carolina

 
My plan was to show the public one of the ways commercial and military goods were transported in the 1750's.  By pack horse.  My method was fairly straightforward.  I had to learn all I could about historical and modern animal pack transport.  That was something I had a head start on.  I've been interested in it for a long time.  I had to learn how pack horses fit into the scheme of things in the North Carolina Piedmont during the 1750's.  Then, I had to transfer all that book learning into actual practice, and be able to communicate it to the site visitors. 

The logistics were also fairly simple.  I needed a picket rope and fodder for Cocoa, and a bedroll and fodder for myself.  I also needed enough "stuff" to demonstrate different configurations of loads to the visitors.  The problem was more or less self solving.  I parked the horse trailer in the parking lot.  Packing all the gear into the site on horseback, and setting up camp was a demonstration in itself.  It took several trips back and forth to get everything to my camping space.  First priority was all the things Cocoa needed.  I had two bales of hay, cut down to three quarter size, and wrapped in canvas.  The rest Cocoa would eat in the trailer.  These were lashed to the pack saddle with barrel hitches.  On top were the picket ropes needed and a tub for water.  Other trips brought in my camp gear and several odds and ends to demonstrate various load configurations to the public. 


Cocoa with a full load of camp gear

I built a simple camp.  Then, I spent the weekend talking to people in my camp, and leading Cocoa with her load around the grounds. 

My camp is very basic.  A bedroll on a pile of leaves, a box of kitchen supplies, and space for the horse.  The picket line is tied to trees, as high as I can reach.  The lead rope is tied to the picket line with a slip knot.  That way, the horse can reach the ground for food or water, and even lay down without getting tangled in the rope.  In a public place, I generally put up a rope corral.  This is more to keep people away from the horse than to keep the horse in. 




Cocoa with a light demo load.
Photo courtesy of Fort Dobbs State Historic Site, North Carolina.

  From time to time during the weekend, I put a light demo load on Cocoa, and led her out of our wooded camp and around the site.  This was both a test of Cocoa's people skills, and my strategy for dealing with the gunfire.  Outside of her little rope corral, Cocoa had to deal with small throngs of people, up close.  I walked her around the open spaces, away from other peoples camps and demonstrations.  Of course, we attracted groups of people, especially families with children.  It's important to remember that most people nowadays have no idea how to behave around large animals.  It's just not something people have to learn anymore.  While talking with folks about animal pack transportation, I constantly kept a 360 degree watch around us.  I occasionally prevented toddlers from playing under the horse, or whole families from rushing headlong up to her hindquarters.  I found the light came on for most folks when I explained "This is the friendly end, and this is the dangerous end. Come on up slowly to the friendly end."  Cocoa's all business personality also showed through during these walks.  She stood quietly while children patted her nose.  But, she didn't lower her head as horses who enjoy such attention do.  She just politely endured it.  A few children were disappointed when Cocoa wouldn't eat grass from their hands.  The explanation that she was a work animal, and not a pet seemed to satisfy them.  One thing that surprised me is the number of people who assumed she was a mule, simply because she was carrying a pack.  These are, more or less, the typical things you encounter when taking a horse out amongst the general public.  I look at it as a teaching opportunity in keeping with the educational goals of the historic site.  The visitors at Fort Dobbs are polite, and genuinely interested.  I always enjoy participating in their events. 

These excursions away from the campsite also allowed me to put some distance between us and the battle reenactment.  When this part of the program starts, nearly all the visitors flock to the viewing area.  I took Cocoa to to a patch of woods on the other side of the site.  When the shooting started, she became agitated.  I couldn't get her to stand still, so I walked her back and forth through unoccupied parts of the site.  During the afternoon reenactment, I tried to get even farther away.  I took her to the horse trailer in the parking area.  She remained nervous and jittery.  She paced around between mouthfuls of grass.  I worked our way to a spot where at least I could watch some of the action, and found that was the key to the whole problem.  Cocoa saw what was causing all the racket, and that it wasn't coming to get her.  After that, she settled right down to grazing.  Every now and then, she would pop her head up to check on the situation.  From then on, whenever I took Cocoa to Fort Dobbs, we had no problem with the battle reenactments.  I simply picked a grassy spot where we could see all the action.  Cocoa grazed and kept tabs on the situation.  Occasionally a visitor would come by to talk with me.  She did so well, that on a later trip we actually participated in the reenactment as civilians being rescued by soldiers. 

Next time:  Into the woods!

Cocoa the Mustang (pt 1)

It's been about three years since I retired my old horse.  I'd like to take some space here to brag about her. 

I have had the privilege of working with other peoples animals for many years.  I did not intend to own horses until We had the property to keep them on.  However, our job options have kept us in suburbia, and I was leery of the expense involved in purchasing, and then paying board for a horse. 

That changed several years ago.  A friend of mine had an older horse that was giving him some trouble.  He said the horse was not mean, just extremely stubborn and uncooperative.  He was a novice horseman and at a loss as to what to do.  He couldn't afford a more usable horse until he found a new home for this one.  Because of her age, the only people willing to buy her were the meat packers.  That prospect did not appeal to my friend at all.  Instead, he offered the horse to me free of charge, if I would take over her care.  She was what we call an "easy keeper".  She stayed fat eating only grass and hay.  That was a big point in her favor.  I went to see the horse, and found that she was rideable.  After finding an affordable place to keep her, Cocoa came into my possession. 

Marlyn riding Cocoa the Mustang

She was a B.L.M. mustang. 
http://www.blm.gov/wo/st/en/prog/wild_horse_and_burro/What_We_Do/wild_horse_and_burro0/freezemarks.html
From the freeze brand on her neck, we know that she was born wild in Nevada, and captured as a two year old.   The vet pegged her age at about 20.  Once I started working with her, I found that she had no serious problems.  Although the ones she did have were likely more than a novice could handle. 

She was well trained.  She knew what she was supposed to do.  But, it was obvious that she had become an expert at avoiding work.  The biggest issue was me learning how to understand her temperament.  I had some idea of the differences between horses born wild and those born into domestic conditions.  However, I did not have any first hand experience with it.  One of the first things I noticed was that she did not enjoy human contact the way a domestic horse does.  Most horses I've worked with seem to enjoy being groomed and petted.  They let you know which part of their neck or withers they prefer to have scratched.  Not Cocoa.  She simply stood there and tolerated it.  That same aloofness carried over into her work as well.  She did every job I ever asked of her, but her attitude was strictly business.  Whenever I approached, her expression said "What are we doing now, and where's the hay?". 

It took a few sessions under saddle for us to really get to know each other.  In each phase we had to establish who was in charge.  It started with tacking up.  As I said, she was well trained.  She didn't try to avoid the saddle or act skittish.  the test came as I tightened the girth.  Cocoa arched her neck, flattened her ears, and began chomping her teeth together.  She didn't reach for me, but I didn't wait for her to.  I simply gave her a gruff "Knock it off!"  That was enough to stop her aggressive posturing, but the look in her eye told me that it was far from over.  In those early days she acted as if she would bite me most times that I saddled her up.  Each time I was able to stop it with words.  After a while, I wanted to see just how far she would actually take it.  That day, I took my time with the saddle and girth, and ignored the slowly escalating aggressive signals.  Finally Cocoa reached for me, mouth open and teeth bared.  I gave her a sharp slap on the softest part of her muzzle and continued working with the saddle.  She returned her head and eyes to the front.  Her expression softened with her eyes blinking and brows wrinkled.

She never tried to bite me again.  From time to time, she acted as though she would.  I'd stop it by simply looking in her eye and saying "I'm watching you.".  I've come to believe that it was a test of leadership.  "We're about to go to work.  Are you still on your game?". 

She had another small habit that may have been a test.  Or, it may have simply been exuberance.  From time to time, when we were at a canter, she would buck.  It didn't happen often enough for me to worry about, and it never lasted more than a couple of strides.  I always broke out laughing when the old gal tried to crank it out like a young bronc. 

The real test came on the trail.  One afternoon, we were riding alone on familiar trails.  At a fork in the trail, Cocoa decided that she should be the one who determined which direction we go.  I reined her to the left, but she wanted to go right.  She shook her head, stomped, reversed directions, and threw in the occasional crow hop.  I knew that the outcome of this little tussle would set the tone for our entire working relationship, and I wasn't about to give in.  We were going to take the left fork if it took til midnight.  I think we fought for fifteen or twenty minutes before she finally relented.  After that, from time to time, she would attempt to contradict me on our choice of route.  But, it never again took more than a simple correction to keep her on the path I chose. 

I don't like working in a vacuum, so I constantly read.  this helps me see what other folks are doing in similar situations.  Over and over again, professional trainers make the same point.  Horses in general, and wild born horses in particular, do not respond well to abusive methods or indecision.  The continuing little tests seem to be a trait of wild born horses.  they need to know that the one in charge is up to the task.  And to perform well, they need to trust that the one in charge will make the right decision. 

Another thing I noticed was other peoples reaction to her.  When people learned that she was a mustang, they tended to back away from her.  Even some experienced horse people acted as if she might suddenly attack them.  I heard parents warn their children away.  It didn't matter that Cocoa had been a well trained saddle horse for 18 years.  She had been a wild animal for two years.  That aura of wildness frightened some people, just as it attracted me.  It was the traits and habits she had developed in the wild that endeared her to me. 


Next time:  More Adventures with Cocoa.

Saddle Your Own Broncs

My wife, Marlyn also enjoys horseback riding.  She grew up around large animals on a farm, but never rode horses very much until recently.  She has wanted her own saddle for a while now.  She has ridden in several, but we hadn't found one that was comfortable to her until last year.  That one belonged to someone else.  But, it became available recently, and we bought it.  Marlyn is a very independent person.  The first thing she wanted was to learn how to saddle a horse herself.  So, one sunny day, we went to Beaver Hollow Farm http://beaverhollowfarm.com/index.htm , and fetched Pepper out of the field. 



Marlyn & Pepper with her new saddle

 Pepper is a black Walking Horse.  His face is turning gray with age.  He is an old standby at the barn.  In his prime, he was a calm and steady trail horse.  A year or so ago, his age caught up with him, and he was retired from the trail.  He still earns his keep around the farm as a lesson horse for beginners.  We brushed him off and I showed Marlyn, step by step, how to put the saddle on.  Then, she rode around the farm for a while. 



Marlyn can saddle her own broncs



Of course, bronc is a relative term

 A week or so ago, Marlyn wanted to go riding again.  She used to ride Pepper, but now he's retired.  Her riding skills have also improved beyond what Pepper was capable of.  Instead, she rode a relative newcomer to the lineup, named Cindy Lou. 

Cindy Lou is a mature, well mannered horse with a smooth, steady gait.  Marlyn groomed and saddled her with no problems.  I saddled up a gentle horse and off we rode.  We put the horses through all their gaits, and had a long, relaxing ride through Pocahontas State Park.  http://www.dcr.virginia.gov/state_parks/poc.shtml 



Enjoying the ride.

 One of Marlyn's other hobbies is nature photography.  We stopped often to take pictures of the Fall foliage and each other.  All in all, it was a good day spent enjoying the company of each other and a pair of good horses. 

Stopping by the dogwood tree

Horse Puckey!!

This doesn't have a lot to do with horses, except in a roundabout sort of way.  Last week, I gathered several buckets of fresh horse manure.  The manure is for the compost.  The compost is for the garden.  I am not a gardener.  My wife, Marlyn is a gardener.  Seems I can't turn around in the garden without getting fussed at for stepping on some valuable plant or another.  I have the job of  PILOT.  The job of PILOT is just as important as it sounds.  It goes something like this;
"Where do you want this, Honey?"
"PILOT over here."
"Where do you want that, Darling?"
"PILOT over there."




Fetching and Carrying


Sometimes I pile stones.  Other times I pile landscaping timbers.  Mostly I pile the compost I've made.  We have about half a dozen mature oak trees in our yard.  Each winter, they drop a mountain of leaves onto the ground.  We used to simply push them over the hill to the edge of the street.  Eventually the County would send a vacuum truck around to suck them up.  Then they figured out that running a vacuum truck all over the county for free was costing them a lot of money, so they stopped it.  Some private companies picked up the slack, they wanted about $100 for the job.  Imagine that, a business wanting to get paid for providing a service.  Our neighbors started hauling their leaves away themselves.  We plunked down a couple hundred on one of those compost tumblers.  Then we bought a second, used one for a lot less. 

Maybe you've seen them.  Big, round cylinders with a crank handle on the end.  The advertisements claimed you could make perfect compost in about a week.  Sounds wonderful, compared to the seasons long collecting, piling, turning, and rotating needed to make compost the old fashioned way.  The trick is, it actually works. 


Our compost factory

It works, as long as you follow a strict recipe.  You use a specific ratio of green vegetation to dry vegetation to animal manure.  combine this with daily tumbling, and strict monitoring of the internal temperature of the mix, and you will cook up a batch of rich compost in a week or so.  My objective isn't to make the perfect batch of compost.  My objective is to make last years crop of dead leaves disappear before this years crop starts to fall.  I always have much more dry brown stuff than fresh green stuff.  This also works, but it's a bit slower.  You also need much more fresh manure.  The manure is the secret ingredient that provides the bacteria needed to speed up the decomposition process.   

When it comes to yard work, I like to work with nature, rather than fight against it.  Or, if you prefer Marlyns' explanation, I'm lazy.  But, I do have a method.  With my mix of leaves, grass, and manure, it takes about 2 to 3 weeks to make a batch of compost.  That's still much faster than the old way.  In the Summer, I try to coordinate cutting the grass with the times one of the tumblers will be empty.  That way, I have green vegetation for the mix.  In the Fall, I wait until the yard is well carpeted with fallen leaves.  Then mulch them up and bag them by running over them with the lawn mower.  The shredded leaves decompose faster, with or without the tumbler.  When the weather is cold, the bacteria are inactive, and the compost won't cook.  I store the mulched leaves in wire bins until Spring.  Soft vegetation that hasn't been mulched goes into a pile beside the bins.  We have another pile for sticks and hard stems.  When the wire bins are empty, I'll start using the unmulched leaves.  Occasionally, I'll take a fork and turn the unmulched leaves.  Other than that, the other two piles are simply left to nature.

While I'm trying to speed things along with the tumblers, nature is still working away at her own pace in the storage piles.  Every year or so, there's good rich soil at the bottom of one or another of the piles.  This year, the bins yielded a wheelbarrow load of good potting soil.  Mostly though, I get compost.




Rich potting soil at the bottom of one of the bins.

The largest part of Marlyn's garden is on a slope behind our house.  Over the years, she has terraced it and made it usable.  The previous owners of the house, filled a hole on the very back corner with old wood, pipes, and other metal stuff.  Marlyn filled that in with the compost.  It is now one of the most productive areas of the garden.  With the steady supply of available compost, she has enriched most areas of the garden. 

Within 3 years after we bought them, the tumblers paid for themselves in savings.  At least, we didn't pay someone else $100 to pick up the leaves and carry them away.  We've also saved from not buying mulch or compost to beef up our garden soil.  So, if you're wondering what to do with your fallen leaves this Autumn, Just add horse puckey!