The Long Walk Back

Brett signed us up to go on an interpretive trail ride today

with the Irvine Conservancy Group.

Winston has been on one of these rides before,

early last year, 

and he was calm as a cucumber

even when we walked past an angry rattlesnake.

Winston walked willingly out of the pasture with me this morning.

When he saw Brett backing up the trailer,

he became less willing.

Agitated.

He pooped four times in ten minutes.

...should have been a clue...

Brett loaded Mufasa first.

Thankfully, Winston loaded easily.

We arrived,

the docent unlocked the gate,

we drove into the staging area

and unloaded. 

Green grass everywhere.

Happy calm horses.

Green grass,

my best buddy Muasa,

What me worry?

He refused to stand still while I saddled him.

He was a royal pain in the butt.

And I was running on low energy;

fighting a cold or some bug.

The docent told us that they have found the remains of Native Americans in this canyon.

They have been carbon dated to 8,000 years ago.

Sometimes, an aura or ray of light shows up on his pictures.

He said it is the ghost of one of the Indians,

who rides with the docents.

He calls the Indian, Ray.

I don't think Winston liked Ray.

He jigged and fussed and was not fun to ride.

The docent stopped periodically to talk about the history of the canyon.

Winston stood quietly.

He seemed to be settling down.

We turned off the wide trail onto a single track and started to climb the hills. 

Winston took exception to a gelding behind us.

He kicked back.

Hard.

With both feet.

Thank goodness he missed.

Then he reared a few times.

I asked the gentleman behind me to switch places with another rider on a horse Winston didn't mind.

He settled a bit.

On we climbed.

As we reached the steepest part of the trail

the docent stopped 

and warned us to be careful.

Their were steep cliffs

on both sides of the narrow, steep trail ahead.

We were to stay in the center of the trail.

Gulp.

Just then, Winston decided he was done.

He reared straight up.

I thought we were going over backwards.

When he landed he bucked.

I grabbed the saddle horn

(thank you Camille;

when he bucked me off last October,

Camille asked me why I didn't hold onto the saddle horn.

Her voice came to me.)

I grabbed the horn with one hand,

and turned him sharply with the other,

while pushing with my inside leg.

He stopped.

I got off.

And started the three mile walk back.

I'm not sure if Winston was remembering last October,

or doesn't like riding in a big group, 

or was still upset about the gelding,

or didn't like Ray (wrong tribe? Not an appy or horsey tribe)

or was just in a pissy mood.

Half way back to the trailer he relaxed.

He's used to me hand walking him when he's worried.

He bumped my hand repeatedly with his nose,

thanking me for keeping him safe.

I told Brett

that I'm happy to trail ride with him.

But I'm not happy to do group rides.

It's not my thing

and clearly isn't Winston's either.