WordPlay

By Patty Wilber

We are going to have a white Christmas here!

Happy Holidays from the current gang!

Merry Christmas from me! This is the most recent picture (last week) I have of myself. I am taking Donati from Kathleen's to 4 Winds Equestrian Center (about 3 miles) because Kathleen's road was too horrible for towing a trailer! Cold, but fun!

"excuse me," says Buckshot, "show season is approaching. where is my show blanket? oh yes, Happy Holidays!"

"are you taking a scenery shot? i need my picture taken. the boss needs a good picture for the folks for the Holidays. see my blue eye?" Yes Cometa, you are very handsome.

"Happy Hanuka!" JD is four, and hasn't been around much, so not sure how he knows about Hanuka!

Penny says"Merry Christmas! and at least this year i don't have to wear that ridiculous hat!" Hmm--think I will dig up the picture just for grins!

sigh. that one.

Longshot says "whatcha doin? i'm pretty cute. take my picture. oh! Merry Christmas! do we get treats?" Sorry no treats.

Lacey says: "so if i get really close i can see my reflection in that thing sticking out of the box in your hand. i could lick it! Merry Christmas! and what about those treats?" Breakfast will be served shortly!

Breakfast in the snow. Lacey (far) and Longshot (near) are buddies.

T says, "Merry Christmas! i am NOT eating the lead rope. i am just standing here minding my own business." Penny says, "i wanted a nice red ribbon! hmpff!"

So, this has nothing to do with Christmas, except I want to say Merry Christmas to Old Otis, whom I have never met. This 570 gallon tank collects water off the barn roof via a gutter, and it stays pretty much unfrozen because a) it is on the SW side of the barn and gets a fair amount of sun, and b) Old Otis suggested using a fish tank bubbler to keep the water moving to reduce freezing. This works in all but the very coldest weather and is WAY cheaper than tank heaters, which jack up our electric bill about 40 bucks/ month, each. So, Merry Christmas, Old Otis!

Next week: 2011:  My Year of the Cow.  Cowboy Poetry (which I have to say I am kind of excited about!)  Then: The Lost Art of Riding in the Dark.

Have a lovely Holiday!

By Patty Wilber

…a covered arena!  This one would be nice….

In order to put an arena of this size on my property, the cost of creating that big of a flat space might be more than the cost of the building! But if you're gonna dream, go BIG!

And I know this guy, Mike, that sells these metal buildings, and I know these other two guys that can do anything, so just as soon as I win the lottery…

********************************

It snowed a foot last week.  Dry snow, but still, a foot is fair amount. And it has been pretty cold–teens and single digits at night and 25-45 during the day (but usually sunny).  The snow melted only in the areas where there was help.

Help in the form of horses walking through it.  Of course some of those spots just packed down and turned to ice. Which at this rate, might last until May, at least on the North side of the barn.

(Penny had a blast tearing around in the new snow.  “woo wee!  i can terrorize lacey!  she’s a runt!”

“am not!” says Lacey.  “i”m barely 1.5 years old! i’m a reiner! ”

Penny concedes “she does nice roll backs to avoid me!  i can slide on my new sliders! woo wee!  watch me do it again!  again!  oops, misjudged, have to slide sideways like a race car…hit the gate anyway.”  (shakes her head, runs off) “watch this!”)

Now if I can only get all  that slide when I am riding!

Help in the form of dragging the arena-thanks to the Spousal Unit and the F1 generation, 0ther-wise known as Progeny #2. (Could not resist, Heather!) The drag, pulled by the Jeep –maybe we will get a tractor next year!– kicked up a little of the sand.  Dark sand + sun = melting.

Where the drag went, melting followed. Not dragged = still covered in snow.

The arena turned into a lake during the day.  With good footing, as the base is deep.

Really, the footing IS good, under all that water.

(“yeah,” say Buckshot, Penny, and JD.  “we have to ride in the lake and we don’t complain –much– because we know better, but our feet get wet!  our legs get wet!  our bellies get wet. AND at dusk we can churn it up while she is riding us.  it delays the ice crystals and makes slush!”

Buckshot adds, “i’ve been to the indoor arena at the Santa Fe Equestrian Center. it is really nice. they have a guy that drags it for me.”

Um that is not just for you, Buckshot.

“but, i’m sexy and i know it.”

Of course it's for me!

Penny and JD roll their eyes.

*******************************************

All we want for Christmas is…a 4 wheel drive truck!  Used is fine! I had to phone a friend (and neighbor) to come over with his truck and pull my trailer up from the barn. It is supposed to snow a whole lot more tonight (Monday). Which might mean nothing, or it might be two feet. (Note: It rained a whole ton instead Monday night. Snowed  3″ Tuesday night.)

Well, it's a stock photo, but at least there is hay in the back...

Normally I pull my trailer out BEFORE a snow, but last week I forgot.  That foot of snow (truthfully even an inch of snow would stymie my truck) combined with the slope, results in fishtailing and buried tires and a big big mess on the gravel road from the barn to the house.  Yeah, I have all weather tires.  But not studs–because around here, it snows, and melts, in most years.

So, I don’t need 4 wheel drive very often.  But the next truck will have it. For the occasional snow, and so I can haul cows and horses where ever I need to go, in good and not so great conditions, highway or gravelled road.

I don’t want dry weather for Christmas.  I can haul to town and use the public arena.  I can go to Santa Fe.  I can plow my arena–well pay some one to plow it for me–to remove the snow.  I can ride on the road.

The wet, if it says wet long enough and sinks in deep enough = GRASS.  Grass = forage for cows.  If the cows have forage, we can buy some and won’t have to feed them. If we can afford to buy them…Old Otis says the price will be sky high if we have any moisture because all the guys from Texas will be here, snapping up our cows.  It could just stay dry in Texas, maybe.

Of course, when we get the cows back,  I am going to have to figure out how to show reining, American Stock Horse, Buckskin, ride the horses I have in training and live with the cows…

(“i got to drive the cows” says Penny. “i was the only one.“ 

Penny, wishing for warmer days and maybe a cow or two to harass.

“i went more than u,” says T from over in Moriarty.

“yeah but u are not here right now so u don’t count” says Penny.

“u haven’t seen the last of me,” says T. “and i stop better than u.”

“hrmpph,” says Penny, and stomps off through the snow.)

Um, all we want for Christmas is…a 30,000 acre ranch? (and an expense account to cover the ranch necessities: cabin, fencing, indoor arena, 4 wheel drive truck, cows…)

Not 30,000 acres, but not a bad location to call home!

DuncanHorse is not going to appreciate this blog.

Duncan: Litterbox!  I heard that!

When I moved here, I had a mighty geology/climate lesson.  Because when I lived in Flagstaff at 7,ooo feet, I was on caliche ground and natural volcanic cinder.  We got a ton of snow (many feets of it!), but rarely did we see mud.  At that altitude, under that sun, the snow sublimated before it melted.  And when it did melt, it ran off the hard ground in sheets.  Only in a few select places did it create squishy spots.

So as I prepared to move to new high foothills, here on the windward side of the Sandias in New Mexico, I planned my horsekeeping accordingly.

Duncan:  Me.  It is all about me.  And that is as it should be.

Wow.  No caliche here.  No indeed.  What we have here is adobe mud.  And there’s a reason people made houses from this stuff.  It will suck the shoes off your feet, send you sliding away on the slightest slope, and swallow you up to your knees.  It will especially do this if new construction has disturbed the soil.

Duncan:  What an incredible mess you’ve discovered.

Right.  So says the horse who happily rolls in said mud and then makes faces at me when it dries to concrete in his mane.  (And who also seems to be a fan of the original Star Wars movie.  Imagine.)

We made this discovery shortly before we moved in.  In a panic, we bought several loads of coarse wood shreddings from the local transfer station and had them spread–in the back yard where the dogs would have otherwise disappeared until spring, and in the paddock directly in the immediate barn area. The shredding packed down, created a mud buffer, and also did a stupendous job of sponging up all but the most profound application of monsoon rain.  (Not that we’ve had much of that in the past year, it is grim to say.)

The side paddock remained naked, although in the time since, we’ve tossed some token shreddings along the fence to make better footing for the pacing zone.

Duncan: The pacing zone is important.  Speaking of which, feed me now.

But the shreddings take a beating over time--they drift away, and they’ve been under hard use in a year when Duncan had no pasture time due to the drought.

Duncan: I would much rather be on my PASTURE!

A couple of weeks ago, we got another load of shreddings.  And I commenced to haul and spread and haul and spread and owwwwww.  Ow.  Ow.  Give me ibuprofen!

This is about a third of the original pile, which spread out into the driveway.

So this past week, we hired a strong back to help, and he hauled and I spread, and…

Lo.  The entire paddock is full of thickly layered shreddings.

And when it was done, I stood in the middle and surveyed Duncan’s domain, and realized what I’d done.

Yes.  It’s a giant litterbox.

Duncan: It is NOT.  Feed me.

The giant litterbox, with winter-hairy horse and the Feed Me Foot in action

Yeeeeah…

It kinda is.

Duncan:  Kiss my nose anyway.

Heh heh heh.  Are you ready for winter?

Here, we have a small stockpile of shreddings (recycled landscaping and construction), and Duncan’s paddock needs grooming for winter.

We did this last fall, too, but that application of shreddings has “matured.” In the side paddock, that means there remains a light scattering of shreddings which have helped anchor the daily application of  scattered horse poo, resulting in a light layer of fairly loose top soil over the rock-hard ground.

(Tip: to improve any soil or footing, mix in horse poo.)

In the barn area, the shreddings were applied 4-6 inches deep, and have mostly compacted into a spongy layer that absorbs water and buffers the natural footing. There are still loose shreddings kicking around on top, but the main improvement is that spongy layer.

This ground-grooming activity is all critical, because the natural soil in this area is adobe clay. In the summer, this is rock hard stuff, and every single time you strike it with a shovel you think, “I can’t believe this stuff!”

If it’s wet, it’s the squishieset, sploogiest, clingiest mud-cement you have ever encountered and, as you go skidding across the ground, usually leaving at least one shoe behind, you think, “I can’t believe this stuff!

Of course, in a natural setting, it’s got a cover of tufty grasses and other high prairie-foothill transition growth. But if there’s just been a house constructed, and the bulldozer has been busy, busy, busy….

Well, our entire back yard is covered with these shreddings, which is why the dogs don’t turn into cement mudballs when we do get rain (oh please, may we have some more of that?). So is much of the front area, so we don’t get mired when going to and fro.

But Duncan’s paddock is a special case, and the shreddings are even more critical–because horses churn up mud with astonishing speed.

Also because although when I staked out the barn flat, it wasn’t a direct downhill from the house–but after the construction crew finished prepping the house foundation, it suddenly became THE collecting basin for run-off.

(Yes, I squawked. Yes, I was given the old dismissive “it won’t be a problem” treatment. Yes, I was right.)

Anyway, that area needs constant maintenance to prevent problems large and small. I’ve done some water-scaping, and that’s helped, but mainly it’s that healthy, thick layer of ever-compacting shreddings that prevents the barn from flooding during a hard rain or snow run-off.

One…

Wheelbarrow…

at…

a time.

Pass the ibuprofen, please?

(Are you ready for winter?  Mwah ha ha!)

By Patty Wilber

Three a.m. in the New Mexico autumn is dark, with a chill, but that is when the alarm bleeped, repeatedly.  The bed was murmuring “don’t go!” and that soft green blanket was really, well, soft.  And warm.

Not enthusiastically, got up anyway, pulled on some clothes, and stumbled (carefully) down to the barn to feed.

Not the standard storybook fare of apples or carrots or oats.  Nope, we’re talking working horses, feed ‘em something sturdy and affordable.  A flake of alfalfa hay and a flake of grass hay for each equid.  We were leaving in a hour and they were facing a long day of driving to the cow pens and a good many miles of riding.

Drove for four hours, saddled, and tied on saddle bags and slickers even though over head was the intense blue New Mexico sky, cloudless. Last year the aspens were decorated in gold, but this year the cold is just hitting the high country.  Not enough time to cause the light harvesting pigments in the leaves to degrade to their flashy last splash.

We took off…at a walk. No leaping upon the bare-backed steed and galloping across the grassy meadow, because a) I no longer have the spring of my high school high-jumping self who could bounce onto a 17 hand horse from the ground, b) no meadows; the ride starts on a rutted dirt lane between two barbed wire (Bob Why-er, if yer from Texas) fences, and  c) even endurance horses that can cover 100 rugged miles in less than 10 hours, do not gallop from end to end across the day.

We jog-trotted (slow trot, easy to ride, and ground-covering, without blowing up the horse) quite a bit.  Galloping? Not at all. We will gather cows this afternoon, after the 18 mile ride, and then push cows out tomorrow.  No point in wasting energy now.

The day progressed to shirt-sleeve warm.  No wind.  Good horses, good weather, no grading, no computers, no cock-eyed personalitied biology students! No place I’d rather be.

Last week’s cold, wind-driven rain and slick footing was an adrenaline rush challenge (yeah, I wanna be a cowgirl!); this is deep in my soul easy.

The elk and deer were everywhere in June, when we were the first ones up country after the winter snows.  Now they are hidden in the trees; hunting season has begun.  They’ve been replaced. By cows.  In fact, so many gates have been left open by thoughtless hunters or lazy-ass forest users, that at least four herds are hopelessly mixed.  “Leave the gates as you found them” is a good rule of thumb…except what to do when you are pretty sure they should be closed and they are open???

 We made the eastern edge of the ranch in good time, but then took the long cut to get in at the bottom where the fence is not good and some neighbor cows have been interloping.  Slithered down steep slopes of loose volcanic ash  that I would have preferred to avoid (shut up and ride, I wanna be a cowBOY).  Both horses were even tempered and sure on their feet. We did find some neighbor cows, but none of ours.

 Ours were grazing the big meadows east of the bunk house–40 of the 62 anyway.  Sent five neighbor cows out a spot on the north fence that was down.  Fixed the hole. Then we bunched the rest and moved them closer to the horse pasture where we planned to hold them for the night.   The horses had to work back and forth, first to mobilize and then to  motivate the grass-fat bovines.  They had to be quick over rough ground.  Wanna be a cow HORSE? They worked up a full body sweat.

Next we dropped over into Barlow Creek to look for my big red cow. She likes to hang out there, away from the main herd, with her own personal entourage. Up and down, more steep terrain.   The two horses, after 8 hours of riding were still right there for us.  Very game.  Penny is just four and Tabooli, although older, at five, has only 1/3 the number of training hours. As TrainerMom, am Very Pleased!

Found Red and Co., and pushed them up to the first group.  This left 10 still missing, so we made a big loop: back down to Barlow, turned left instead of right and rode east, into the night, as the sky softened through yellow-orange to mauve and starlight gradually filled the moonless sky.  It went from shirt sleeve warm to fleece hat, gloves and three layers on top, cold.  At 10,000 feet, when the sun disappears, the warmth follows, immediately.

 Untacked with the help of the head lamps, and brushed the caked sweat streaks off the horses.

Penny still has her short summer show coat, and although Tabooli has begun to hair up I’d sent blankets up in a truck coming in from the other side.  Given the long day, and the cold night, blankets would reduce stress. T went in a pen too small for two horses when one is PMS-y…yes that would be Penny.  So, she was hobbled outside.  They both got big piles of alfalfa, and water.  No apples. No oats.

Both horses looked sucked up in the flanks–like grey hounds instead of their usual plump selves.  By morning, T looked normal–he eats and drinks very well away from home.  Penny still looked a little dehydrated, although she did eat well.

They were saddled at dawn, which is 6:30 ish at this time of year, and had another ends-at-dark day, starting with finding the last 10 cows and ending with all 62 off the mountain, down at the pens.  In the last big pasture we crossed, Penny (who was working on only three shoes all day–one came off on the night loop) and I went to move the resident bovines out of our path so we didn’t gain mass as our bunch passed through.  She still had it in her to lope a long way at a good clip and get after those cows, then come back to ours, who were moving at the speed of molasses in January at this point, and get after them.

The cows are all at the farm near Estancia, NM now.  Horses got new shoes Thursday and the week off! (And still no apples.) I wanna be a cowgirl.

There’s always some woo in my books.  As in, woo-woo.  I suppose also as in “wooing,” but I swear I wasn’t trying to be punny when I started this sentence.

(Was that convincing?)

Anyway, I’ve been thinking about the Reckoners a lot lately, as I begin the preliminary work for the third Reckoners book.  (The first two were THE RECKONERS and STORM OF RECKONING, in case anyone’s lost track, along with partner story, “Deep River Reckoning.”  So I’m taking another look at those books–at the things I did in those books.

And I realize it was bound to happen–that I’ve finally set a book in Sedona.  I mean, take one writer of things fantastical living only an hour away from the red rocks, canyons, and vortexes.  Give her a decade of exposure.

The inevitability of it is clear.

Seriously!  Only an hour away from the woo-woo!

Not that my characters were as enthused.

Lucia Reyes:  Shopping?  In tourist Trap World?  I don’t think so.
Lisa McGarrity:  Reckoning?  In Faux Woo-Woo World?  I don’t think so.
Trevarr: [    ]

Oh, right.  Trevarr.  He’s like that.

Sklayne:  Me.  You forgot about me.

Sklayne.  He’s like that, too.

Sedona has to be both the most over-appreciated and under-appreciated place in the world.  Think SEDONA and you get crystals and vortexes, mantras and spiritual retreats.  Because, sure… there’s a lot of that going around.

But drive to Sedona from Flagstaff, and you end up winding through a canyon with dizzying hairpin turns, dropping a couple thousand feet in short order.  Ponderosa pines and scrub oak cling thickly along the red rocks in a stark green and bluff-red contrast, and rushing creek and riparian water habitat thrives below.  It’s alive and it’s stunning and it’s unlike anywhere else you’ve ever been.  Suddenly you look at it all much differently.  You look beyond the woo.

You think, “This is a place where I’d like to sit.  I’d like to spend time.  I’d like to write about.  I’d like to help preserve.”

Sklayne:  Vortexes.  Tasty.

Right.  That’s the thing, isn’t it?  So alluring, the temptation of the woo-woo.   Sometimes I think it shadows the amazing nature of what’s already there.  Because right there in Sedona, the world changes.

Sedona sits at the Mogollon Rim, the profound natural dividing line between the Colorado Plateau and the lower Basin & Range country.  Spend a few winters in the higher northlands, and you know right where the snow line lays:  Above Sedona, it’s chains and closed roads.  Below it, the fog clears out and suddenly you’re driving clear and free.

Above Sedona, the land is all silent volcanoes and cinder fields supporting skiing and ponderosa pines growing thick and deep; the amazing San Francisco Peaks were formed by your classic hot-n-heavy volcano, topped by the classic dome explosion.

Below Sedona, it’s a quick descent through juniper scrub desert to the broad sloping valley bowl of classic hot, hot desert.  Saguaro, prickly pear, cholla spring up, while grasses grow sparser by the moment.  Picture your cowboy hero, crawling along the ground with his tongue hanging out, a rattler coiled up not far away.

And there in Sedona, you have it all, both above and below.  North Sedona is full of canyons, swirling wind-formed rocks, Vultee Arch, and a plethora of stunning trails and views.  As if I could resist taking the reckoning action out into those settings!

Lucia:  I’m pretty sure you could have.  Or warned me to pack hiking shoes.  And, the way things turned out, a bulk pack of sanitary wipes.
Garrie:  Bring it on!  I’ve got ghostie vibes to hike out.
Sklayne:  Squirrels!  Tasteee!
Trevarr: [   ]

South of Sedona’s main road, the land plunges down into the red rocks–striking red bluffs in formations so distinctive they all have names (Snoopy, Lucy, Chimney Rock, The Mittens, The Cow Pies, the Rabbit Ears….).  It looks like someone turned the Earth’s crust upside down and left us all gazing at the roots of the rock.

Truth is, I enjoy the woo-woo.  The vortexes, both male and female in essence; the crammed, tight little shops along Highway 89.  There you can get crystals, furs, a plethora of T-shirts bearing eagles, wolves, and largely misrepresented Indians, and–if you look in the right place–maybe a badger skull to add to the collection at home.  (Ask me how I know.)   Geodes, vortex tours,  and any little thing with a whiff of New Age magic…this is the place!  It’s all worth a little wallow.

Sklayne:  Tingles!

But for me, the rich treasure of the area comes in the land, which carries a woo-woo all of its own–just because it is.  And in the end, even if it was crystals and vortexes that tickled my idea generator, it was the land that drew me, and which helped drive this story.  What the land and its creatures deserve.

Lucia:  Let’s just sit on Sterling Ridge and look down on the pass for a while.
Garrie:  Non-ethereal woo-woo.  Want me some of this.
Trevarr:  *just happens to be standing close to Garrie*

…Sklayne:  When can I eat it?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

first appeared more or less in this form, in the Tor newsletter

By Patty Wilber

The farrier (also known as “The Shoer”) came to work on the horses last week.  He did  four  horses.  One trim, one full shoe (all four feet) and two half shoes (front feet only).

The Other Farrier came the week before (I use two different farriers because The Shoer is very good with Penny’s club foot and Risa’s quirks.  The Other Shoer does one of my client’s horses and he has done Cometa most of his life.)  The Other Shoer did one trim and one full shoe, with sliders.

In the wild, the hooves wear off naturally, but this does not occur in a pen.  Without regular care, every 6-12 weeks, the feet may grow unevenly or break off, which can lead to lameness, joint issues or in severe cases, deformity.

For my horses, cost is 40-50 bucks for a trim and 85-125 for a full shoe.  It varies by farrier and shoe type.  And my equines are all pretty straight forward.

Cha–ching.

The youngster (Lacey) got a trim– a quick trim at that (and a discounted price!)  The idea was to get her used to having someone up under her moving her legs this way and that (she was pretty good) and to keep her legs and feet growing straight and balanced.  In young horses, good hoof care can prevent, and even correct, problems.

This will be great so long as she ends up sound! The last X-ray  indicated no improvement in the bone lesion caused by the infection (which means another month of antibiotics and more waiting), but she has far less discomfort (a very positive sign), so the inflammation is less.  She is off pain meds and barely a limp!

She is mainly a Pasture Ornament (or is that Money Pit #2?–Winston being Money Pit #1) so she doesn’t need extra hoof protection or cosmetic enhancement. (You can shoe yearlings that are being shown so their feet meet the “pretty” requirement.)

The oldster (Cometa–14 on the 9th!) got a trim.  His Mom, his Dad and all his relatives back about 100 years had to fend for themselves on a rocky barren ranch in Arizona.  Those with crummy feet, poor teeth, or bad digestive systems, died. As a result, Cometa has great feet that are well shaped, and hard.  He has only had two shoes his whole life, on the back feet, because for a while I was  doing quite a few stops and I wore his feet down.

Lily and Risa got shoes on the front, trimmed in the back.  Risa is working as a pack horse this summer and not a lot, at that.  The forests are nearly all closed because we haven’t had significant rain in most of NM for months.  We are drier than a kiln dried 2×4.  Really.   An ATV and a chain saw spark have led to thousands of blackened acres.  Check out inciweb.com for all sorts of interesting info on fires across the country! There’s a huge fire in the Okefenokee Swamp in Georgia.

Lily never had shoes before.  She’d had regular trims, but because she’s here going to school, her feet were wearing down and were tender on gravel.

A horse carries around 60% of its weight on the front end, so an animal in light work, can be comfortable in front shoes alone.  Also, when getting a first set of shoes, it can be nice to just deal with two feet.  The hammering and the feel the the nail in the horn of the hoof (painless) is bothersome to some.

Penny had all four done.  I ride her a lot and her feet are pretty soft.  I had her shod “for the mountains” which visually seems to mean that length of the nail where it comes up and out of the hoof is longer than a on a “show” shoe.  The longer clinch and more grip vs. a shorter clinch and prettier.

All the horses lost shoes in the  mountains last month.  Extremely inconvenient when you a) paid 85 bucks and b) are far away from the farrier and have no phone service!

Farriers normally guarantee their work and will replace shoes that come off, for free. Given the cost of gas, this is a nice feature!

You can see where the nails are bent over and are flush with the hoof. They are clinched.

Penny also has a mild (grade 1) club foot, which needs regular care.  If left unchecked, changes could occur in the alignment of the bones resulting in lameness.  With proper shoeing it is hard to see!  It did not develop until she was two.

Grade 3 club foot.

I tried a barefoot “shoer”. The assured me that with a correct trim I could keep my horses unshod.  “But I ride a lot.” (I have worn the shoes off some of my horses in five weeks).

“No problem.”

After a few trims, they said, “You need shoes!  We have no foot to work with.”

I said, “Duh…” Only to myself, (until now).

Buckshot had all four feet done and got sliders on the back.  The sliders are wider, smoother and longer than regular shoes and, yes,  they help a horse slide!  Slides are important for sliding stops in reining.  Buckshot IS a reiner, by breeding and by ability.

Sliders are the 3rd picture. There are different types of sliders, too...

There is a whole lot more to this shoeing business than these few examples, but hopefully this provided some insight!

No hoof, no horse.

By Patty Wilber

Lacey (AKA Esmerelda, her not-so-secret good luck name.)

She had surgery on Monday. And this is what they found:  Her joint fluid looked much more normal! Better color and consistency and far fewer neutrophils (which indicates less infection!)

Smaller cyst. The bad spot is smaller!  Healing is occurring.

The furazone wrap worked to reduce the swelling. so Dr. Dralle was able to flush the joint really well AND find a vein to inject antibiotics right to the site.  It looked so good that he did not leave the joint open for drainage!

The closed wound is great news for me! Less chance of another infection, less pain, two weeks of legs wraps that I change every other day instead of 3 months changed daily, and a most likely, a less damaging scar!

The new antibiotics are working!

The Pecos.

Myself, my Spousal Unit and Progeny #2 all went on a Back Country Horsemen pack trip Saturday and Sunday.

Left at 6 am. Got about 20 miles down the road when heard “Pop. Shhh,  kethunk.”  Pulled over cuz, yes it was a flat on the trailer.  Not an issue, as I have the handy dandy Jiffy Jack!

Jiffy Jack!

Of course if your spare is flat, it is actually an issue.

What will be open in the Lovely Town of Moriarty NM at 6:30 am on a Saturday morning?  Not much according to the phone book, but we drove on down the main drag (which you can do with a flat on a trailer with two axles like the one in the picture above), and we we saw a shop that was either abandoned (2 votes) or open (1 vote).

Open.

He referred us back up the road to another shop of similar appearance.  We got our flat fixed ($22), bought a new tire (from the first guy; $100 but “Big discount! Really good tire!  Ten ply!”)  We were on our way around 8 am.

We were late to meet the BCHer’s (got to Panchuela around 10 am instead of 8 am) but they were not impatient.  There was a lot of gear to pack and we finally were on the trail with equipment for a trail crew by noon.

Risa loaded and carrying her hobbles around her neck. My hitch of choice is still the box hitch.

Penny also carried a load and got ridden! And ponied Risa in.

I haven’t done much with Risa this summer (ever since she was so terrible at the March show…) but she packed like a charm, even over the little mud and water we encountered, except for that one spot where the aspen sapling caught on the edge of the pannier, bent and then slipped under the bottom of the pack.

Risa, propelled, not so much by the spring in the sapling but the surprise in her brain, catapulted forward.  The tree knocked her pack askew so we did a quick re-center and re-hitch.

The Pecos Wilderness is the driest I have ever seen it, and in fact, the Pacheco Fire started to west while we were riding in. It ended up going from five acres on Saturday to 3000 acres on Sunday. As of Thursday pm it was 5500 acres and only 10% contained.

In camp, the horses were hobbled to graze and then were high-lined for the night. The air is hazy due to smoke from the Pacheco Fire

Cometa, Penny and Risa, hobbled and grazing.

I ended up lending Penny to our BCH VP for the ride out, as his horse was feeling puny.  I rode Risa.  Oh joy.  First, I tried her in line behind John who was being ponied by Penny. Cometa followed behind Risa. She trusts Cometa. I thought.

Jig, spook, jig, twtich. Head toss for good measure.  This is going to be a very long eight miles…So, I put her at the very back.  That worked…

Until after lunch. P#2 was hiking and he hiked behind me for a while, which was fine with Risa. Then he stopped longer than we did at a stream, so he had to catch up.  Risa completely forgot about him apparently, because when he started to close the gap, her imagination lit up:.  “there is something behind me.  with big teeth.  or a big ass knife.  that will be used to stab me. in the jugular.  death is imminent.”

This went on until P#2 was in speaking range, at which point she snapped.  “oh.  him!  never mind.”

She also did fine in the back until we stopped and moved off the trail.  Whenever this happened, her Zen was disturbed.  “they are out of place.  put them back in place!  aahhhh!”

Geez. That’s exactly why I ride Penny and pack Risa.  Much more relaxing.

But we made it home, just in time to find out that on Tuesday I needed to help move cows from Llaves to The Ranch. The water at Llaves was drying fast.

Left the house at five Tues am, returned Weds at 2 am, 22 hrs later.

Banded (elastic at the base of the testicles), branded, ear tagged and vaccinated.

Banding tool for calf castration. Slip 'em in and release the rubber band. Do it again.

Run away!

We got ‘er done, loaded up and drove to The Ranch.  I am two for two in vehicles heading up that road.  They overheat. I was not driving either time.

Finally made the ranch by 5 pm (only took 12 hours to get there).

Yippee! (Ki yay)

Off to join the other bunch that hiked in a few weeks ago.

We could leave now. Except Cowboss and the Amon Amarth* Aficionado were staying another 10 days or so to work the fence and neither of us home-bound folks wanted to go.  We invited ourselves to dinner and then dragged our butts reluctantly down the mountain as the day melted away. (Saw a ton of deer and elk on the drive which was a bonus.)

Time to go. Daylight is fading.

The main problem with going to The Ranch is coming home. Despondent, like waking from the perfect dream or coming to the end of a perfect book. I probably would have hidden under a bunk and refused to come out except there’s no phone service up there and had  hungry horses at home.

*”Melodic” Viking Metal Band.  Check out the video Twilight of the Thunder God.     Viking Metal.  Who knew?!  And even more incongruous:  Viking Metal includes Danish Folk Metal which seems to combine Renaissance fair-like music with growled lyrics…

Amon Amarth will be in Albuquerque on August 29, just in case you want to go…(!)

By Patty Wilber

Tabooli has been a bit unruly, so when it came time to put the cows up in the high country, he was not going unless I rode him. So, I left Penny home and took T.

Part 1.  Putting the cows in in the truck.

Got to the farm around 8:30 am with Alameda, Cinco and Tabooli.  Alameda was T’s first love (back when he was a stallion), and apparently he has not completely forgotten.  He must have been good because Alameda seems to like him, too…

This made him a pain when I had to go round up the cows on my own while Alameda and Cinco hung out at the trailer.

It took me a while because it was like herding amoeba.  They had already had water.  They were spread out and grazing.  The calves felt like nursing and there were three young bulls from the neighbor’s trying their luck in our herd…

T had to go over here and get this group moving then those over there would stop. Then the bulls would start jostling each other.  Then some calves would look for food.  Then T would lose his cool being out there on his own, so I’d have to decide whether to push him through it or get off and let him settle while I moved the cows on foot with him in tow…

A long time later we got them to the pens.

The shipper with his big two-story cattle truck arrived and we began moving cows into the truck–except the ones that refused to herd into the chute…and the calves that snuck under the fence…and finally Yellow 9 that just jumped out and ran off.

T (with me) and Alameda (with T’s Dad) chased her all over the farm for an eternity, while she jumped or went through about 7 or 8 fences.  Eventually, she wore out and started looking for some cow company.  T and I, by keeping a good distance and planning our angles managed to push her back into the pens.  At that point she and the other two loaded right up.

Part 2. Drove 159 miles to the turn off, then 16 miles in on dirt road.

The hauler was told about the dirt road…but he wasn’t really prepared for it.  Went about 5 mph, thus taking nearly three hours to go the last 16 miles.

He had “fire coming out of his eye” by the time he got there and left without really speaking or even collecting his check!  We figured we’d tell him we’d be paying him in the fall after he picked up the cows and delivered them back to the farm…

Part 3. Cattle drive! Eighteen miles to the ranch.

Smoke from the Wallow Fire in AZ made the sun blood red in the morning. My camera didn’t capture it well.

There were four of us moving the cows. This is Jeff. The aspen were much more leafed out than last week. The white trunks never cease to strike me with their beauty!

Me on T with Cinco in tow, pushing the cows past the snow. T was pretty happy if he had Cinco or was near Alameda but got Unruly if he had to do too much all alone...

This vista was really breathtaking. David and Mister are pushing the cows.

Note T's pinning his ears. He got tired of having to follow and starting trying to get the dogies to git along using the force of his personality.

Convincing the cows to cross--I only got a few over, but they acted as magnets and the others came more readily.

Made the Ranch and penned the cows in the horse pasture for the night. The horses stayed in the little pens. T got to be with Alameda AND Cinco. Happiness.

Part 4. Fixed Fence.

We fixed and set up fence after riding in on Sunday and we fixed fence for a couple hours on Monday before we rode out.

This is what fence work does to your gloves. I repaired mine with Duct Tape. Cuz baling wire doesn't do the job in this case!

Steep!

Wet!

After we’d done as much as we could given the time, we saddled up to move the cows out of the horse pen and down to Barlow Creek–in the middle of the ranch, far from the fence that is still laid down.

Part 5. Eighteen miles back out!

T ponied Cinco the whole way!

Back across the river!

T was responsive and complaint all day. Probably because he was tired, he had Cinco, there were no cows, and he is starting to catch on to the idea that the horses all get to stay together.  Except he hates Mister because he is sure Mister is trying to steal Cinco and Alameda.

Made it home at midnight and had to be up at 6 to get to my “real” job.

Haven’t quite recovered yet, but T, Penny and I will be back at it this weekend.

I also got my yearling filly from Kansas this week…she has a leg injury, so vet visit tomorrow to get a diagnosis…She’s super cute, so might be the blog topic for next week…

PS please excuse any typos.

By Patty Wilber

The wind is blowing all the time and there has been no rain.

The farm has 36 cows and 20 something calves, all doing well on last year’s 1200 acres of forage, but there’s no spring green up.  The grass is tanned and the earth is cracked.  Dust boils up where ever I step.

Time to move the cows to the summer range…if the summer range is ready.

I arrived at the farm around 7:30 am, with Penny and T.  Met The Harris Brothers.

Some of the cows were heading to water, but a few were in the western corner, so that’s where Penny (the only horse saddled) and I went.  We picked up Blue 12 and her calf, the bull, another cow and a passel of calves, some of whom had been napping on the sand around a coyote or badger den.

The wind was blowing dust in my eyes and I hung my purple baseball hat on my saddle horn because no way was it staying on my head.

I pushed my recruits to the water, too; easy since they tend to go there in the morning anyway. However, Blue 12 was NOT interested in joining the herd with her two day old baby (Blue 2).  She kept veering off, stopping and turning back.  Blue 2 was still new-born dopey and he kind of staggered along after his momma, panting.

They drank and then we headed to the pens.  Over the winter, we fed them there occasionally, so that is another place they go if you can point them in the general direction…Except Blue 12, who kept trying to sneak her boy off into the four-wing salt bushes to let him lay down.

Penny had to work back and forth to keep them grouped and moving.  She kept flashing back to ranch sorting, thinking she would have to  do something really dramatic any minute, so she felt a little bunchy and tight under me.

At the pens, we separated the cows into two groups;  Group One was cow-calf pairs + the bull, and Group Two included those that have not yet calved + Blue 12 and her newbie.

The livestock inspector gave us the go ahead and we loaded Group Two plus our four horses, and headed for the Cow Way Station in the San Juan Basin of New Mexico, a few hours away.

We arrived and unloaded.

Blue 12

Blue 2 needs a helping hand

They didn't have to go far to find a novelty: GREEN GRASS

Hauling cows is a __________ job! Messy? Dirty?

After we let the cows out on to the 160 acres, we checked and fixed the fences in the few spots where there were problems. I am the novice; have to keep up and learn quick because The Harris Brothers can fix anything, as if they were born knowing how.

The bluffs to the south are horizontally striped in maroon and cream. The mesa to the north has eroded into curtains and caves.

Amazing!

The smell of sage edged up into my nose. AHH…Chooo!

I think the cows might like it here. They will go to the high country ranch in a month or so.

We got up the next morning at 4am (no whining from the novice–besides I had picked a lumpy sleeping spot and and my thermarest leaked, so wasn’t sleeping all that well anyhow), ate, packed up  and drove (and drove, and drove some more) to north of Tres Piedras, near the Colorado border, saddled up and rode around 16 miles in to check conditions at The Ranch.

In the aspens--note they are not leafed out much-too cold. I took this picture by pointing the camera backwards while riding, so I figured it's pretty good(!)

As we climbed up to 10,000 feet, we were blasted by wind whenever we hit open areas (although it was not terribly cold).  The wind and the warmth were melting the remaining snow banks (some were over 6 feet deep) and water was running everywhere.

Mister (the horse) says,"Really? More snow? More mud? More bogs?"

In one spot the snow buried the road in irregular humps that the horses could not plow through,  so we detoured down a creek, over the creek (Mister was not happy), up a very steep slope and across a bog.

I was ponying Alameda.  Penny had dissed Tabooli the night before, so Tabooli switched allegiances to Alameda (“I love her so!”).  Alameda and Penny were bitching at each other.  Penny is used to being the lead horse so she knows that when she is working she needs to put her opinions in check.  Alameda knows this too, but kept trying to take a bite out of Penny whenever my attention was diverted.

Diverted big time in the bog. We got in hock deep and the horses were lunging forward to higher ground.  Alameda got up beside Penny and instead of focusing on the Big Bog Issue, decided this would be the perfect opportunity to take off Penny’s head.

REALLY?! Do we NOT have more important things to do, Alameda? Like not getting mired in MUCK?

We ended up dismounting and leading our sinking mounts, looking for  water on the surface (if it runs on top, it isn’t bogging up underneath) or rocky spots.

It took about three and half hours total to reached the ranch gate, which was stuck closed by snow on either side.  I put my shoulder into the gate and shoved it open.  Penny and I snuck through.  Then I began pulling the gate…right off it’s hinges!

Yep, I ate my spinach!

Heading into ranch headquarters (down in the valley). The wind is trying to take off our head covers!

We made it.

Done riding for the day.

We didn’t have enough corral space. No biggie if you’re Hanging with The Harris Brothers. We built one. (I helped.  Really.) Later, they fixed the hot water heater in the cabin. No problem unsolvable.

It was nice to be out of the wind for the first time in 36 hours!

Next day, up at 6 am, set up and repaired the lay-down fence for the horse pen (in 40 F, 40 mph wind, with spatterings of driving snow for added interest), and some of the ranch perimeter. Lay-down fences (see picture below) are laid down in the winter to prevent damage by snow and wildlife.

Cowboss, fixing the horse fence. Cold, windy, feet are wet and it is spitting snow.

Some fence was still buried.

The snow is still really deep under the trees. You can see the fence on the ground in the forefront of the picture. That will be picked up and attached to the T post I am standing near.

Grabbed a warm lunch, packed up Penny instead of saddling her, as she’d thrown her right front shoe and her foot was chipped (but then it turned out T and Mister had also thrown their right front shoes, but no  chips–probably a bunch of shoes back in one of the bogs…) Everyone made it out fine since the ground was soft.

You can see Penny's mane blowing. I am wearing chaps and my winter coat. I wore that all day and never was too hot!

The cloud cover had blown away and it was sunny.  The wind was still relentless (but at our backs for the ride down).

The wind is whipping my scarf eastward!

Rode out in 4 hours, and the ground was noticeably drier–the moisture wicked away by the wind.

We will bring the cow-calf pairs in on June 5!