Musings from the trail

 I just completed my now third annual week of trail riding where I spend each day exploring a new trail (or favorite trail) with one of my trusty Morgan horses enjoying what is likely to be the last wonderful weather before winter descends on our North Idaho high country.  As I've come to do, I spent the majority of that time on the trail with just my Morgans, allowing for maximal introspection and partnership with my horses.  

Here are the things I have come to learn about myself and my horses through these solo adventures.  

First of all my riding has evolved over the past three years.  While I used to be about the extreme adventure or the miles logged or the hours spent in the saddle, those things hold little attraction for me anymore.  I don't choose the longest rides, or highest peaks because I want it to look good on my trail log journal.  I have tended to gravitate towards the rides that allow me to see the far flung places where I can be still and enjoy the peace and quiet of the majestic places we can go without feeling the need to rush back down the mountain.  Maybe this is just a sign I'm getting older, I did turn 50 this year after all.  I would like to believe it is a sign I'm getting wiser and more settled in myself and the things that really resonate deep in my soul.  I cringe thinking about the times in the past I would battle and scramble and hump it up a mountain only to spend about 10 min taking pictures before heading back down.  My favorite memory from this past week is the hour that Kit and I spent basking in the sunshine together on the top of Mt. Pend Orielle.  There is peace in stillness.  Take your moments of stillness and embrace the beauty of this life.  It makes the other worries seem so much less.  High mountains are good for both the view and the perspective.  

Hanging out with Annie on the banks of Moose Lake.  This was Annie's first time out on the trail this year after raising a baby this summer. 

I listen to my horses more than I used to.  Again, this may be age more than wisdom but the quiet miles and hours spent in the high country with only my horses for company really improves the quality of the two way communication we share.  It allows me to know intimately how my horses are feeling about any particular situation so that I can be prepared to help them or reassure them as necessary.  Sometimes that means taking a quiet moment to breath together or  sometimes it means me getting off to assess the footing and lead a horse that is questioning the passage.  My former self would have disdained a rider that felt the need to get off and walk a horse through a tricky spot opting to instead "cowboy up" and show that horse who is boss. but being out there alone makes you extra cautious.  You've got no audience, no peer pressure and nothing to prove other than the desire to get out of there, the both of you, in one piece.  When my horses tell me they need some help, I get off and give it to them.  Forcing a horse when the footing is questionable leads to mistakes and mistakes lead to injuries.  Allowing myself and my horses the grace to say, yes, this is tricky, let me show you the path I would choose.  Trust me to keep you safe.  It is a great honor and responsibility to have a being as noble as the horse look to you for guidance and comfort when the going gets rough.  It also means that when I need my horses to be there for me and to get me through whatever lies ahead I can lean on them too.  Trust is a two way street.  

Coming down off of Fault Lake basin with Ernie

It's important to me that my horses are as invested and excited about the ride as I am.  Perhaps I'm kidding myself, but I really believe my Morgans enjoy the adventures we share.  They are never reluctant to be caught and never refuse to load. They never attempt to turn around and go back to the trailer.  They never seem anxious or worried when they get out of the trailer, no matter what kind of road I had to crawl over to get there.  My younger horses, still learning the ropes, are different.  They will sometimes be nervous when the road has been rough or they are unloaded in a strange place once again.  But in those instances I will spend extra time grooming, petting, and reassuring them, maybe letting them graze a bit or eat from a hay bag before we head out on the trail.  Investing in this bank of peace and contentment serves us well as we move on down the trail.  You must be at peace and calm to avoid the pitfalls of the spooks and the dangers of horses rushing through obstacles due to nerves.  

Navigating the ridgeline to Estelle Lake was a little much for Jack on a solo jaunt so we walked it in and rode it out.  He did great on the way out!

Mountain driving and mountain riding are two separate but equal skill sets.  As a proud Gen Xer I am definitely of the generation of self assured and capable women but still old enough to sometimes think (even if it's privately) "little ol' me?"  So driving into the woods alone with horse in tow to some of these places I've only read about or explored on a map can be nerve wracking.  My desire for adventure and seeing new places is in constant battle with my reluctance to get into a road that I have to (God forbid) back out of for any distance.  Mountain driving and ensuring that we arrive in one piece and don't destroy the truck and trailer has been a learning curve.  On a rather disastrous attempt I will never forget I was sure I would have to call a helicopter to get us out of there, and by the time I got to a spot I could turn around I was shaking and trying my best to hold it together.  I still rode that day as I wasn't going to waste all that effort and not explore the trail we meant to see!  My best advice for driving in the mountains is GO SLOW.  It's safer for your truck, it helps to avoid those huge rocks and your horse will arrive much happier.  It also means you have to factor in that drive time in your day, often sacrificing miles on the trail so you aren't driving out at dusk on roads best traveled in broad daylight.  I've had to turn around by inches.  I've had to navigate over washouts.  I've had to back out due to a down tree across the road.  I've had to change flat tires.  It takes some practice and I HIGHLY recommend scouting before you go out.  I just don't have that kind of time!  But, I've learned that given enough time and determination I can get myself out of almost anything.  

My magical Green Hornet and Exiss trailer.  We've done a lot of miles this summer!  We did almost 600 miles of mountain driving just last week! 

My horses give more when I give more.  I don't know why this surprises me, because it's probably a universal phenomenon and not just a tenet of horsemanship.  I ask a lot of my horses.  I ask them to be brave, steady, dependable, athletic and fit.  I ask them to carry me into the high country often working very hard in the process.  Kit, who is not a fan of going downhill and has struggled with it his entire life taught me to get off and walk him down instead of riding him down all the time.  When I do this for him he more willingly climbs up the steep stuff.  When I give them breaks to graze or turn them loose in safe high mountain meadows they appreciate that this mountain climbing gig isn't just all about them losing buckets of sweat.  It makes them more invested in the adventure and they will try harder.  When I do walk down the trail picking berries or taking pictures they happily follow along behind me at liberty.  We are a unit, my horses and I.  I think it makes a difference in their willingness to work as hard as I ask them too.  Maybe I'm projecting or anthropomorphizing, but I don't believe so.  

Chico following me up Strawberry mountain. 

I enjoy the people who do the hard work to get up high.  The people that I run into in those far flung places are universally polite, respectful, and a joy to run into.  I can't say the same in some of the easier to access trail heads where I often spend time picking up after other horse folks, listening to blaring rap music from a passing ATV or even sometimes just music blaring on someone's phone as they ride down the trail.  There is something to be said about having to work hard to get to the beautiful places.  There is an understated sense of gratitude just to be alive and be experiencing life in those places.  There is a larger lesson here, I'm sure of it.  Be the kind of person who would work hard to get to some place pretty.  Even if you never get to go there, embrace that mentality.  I think it ends up serving you well.  I just have to add, other than people who don't clean up after themselves, I absolutely do not begrudge the way ANYONE enjoys the outdoors.  If cruising out there in your ATV and playing music is how you get out there, at least you are getting out there! Just don't mind if I choose to take a quieter trail. 

Finally, I've learned riding out by myself is that silence is golden.  I so rarely have silence in my life.  Our modern lives are so full of noise and distraction.  I also suffer from tinnitus so even at night there is noise in my ears.  The fan or an audio book help to keep that at bay so I can sleep.  But, in the woods there is a different kind of silence that is full of quiet noise.  The blowing of the wind through the trees.  The sounds of running water.  The calls of birds and the buzz of insects and all with the back drop of the creaking of my saddle and the sound of my horse's feet.  I could listen to all of that for hours and hours.  I used to sing on the trail, or talk to myself or my horses, but in the interest of cultivating stillness and silence I'm much more inclined to just ride through the forest breathing in time with my horse and letting my senses be filled with the sounds, sights and smells of the forest.  It's absolutely addictive.  

Kit and I on top of Mt. Pend Orielle soaking up the sunshine.

Riding solo is not for everyone and not for every horse.  I'm certainly careful about the places I go when I am riding alone with one of my young Morgans still in the learning phase.  Accidents can and do happen.  If you choose to ride alone make sure somebody knows where you are.  Start small and work up to the longer tougher rides.  If you get nervous out there, you are no good to your horse, so only do the things you feel comfortable with.