Just Ride ~~ A long look back...a repost

Shhhh. What can you hear? The creak of leather, the soft footfalls of a mule in the forest. The panting of a Jack Russell and the soft swoosh of a tail flicking.

There really isn't any conversation going on. I ride along quietly listening, and watching. When a small disturbance off the trail to our left makes Badger go rigid.
I feel him stiffen and look to where his ears are pointing...and we wait.

A hen turkey sprints out of the tall grass with three of her semi grown chicks...they begin to flap their wings and fly low over the Queen Anne's Lace.
I look down and Morris is trying to stand on his hind legs to see what the 'fuss' is about. I smile and pat Badger on the neck and murmur:

*Good boy.*
With a small squeeze of my leg we set off again across the ridgetop following an ATV trail, so Morris won't have to struggle to get through the tall grasses.

We eventually get off the ridge and drop into the woods which are dark even on bright days. We make our way down an old logging trail to the back valley [also called the Lost Valley by the owners]. I get Badger to do some tricky maneuvers... and we finally stop for a rest next to the creek.

The first thing Morris does is get in the water to cool off. Badger drops his head to eat. Poor starving mule...you'd think he's never seen a lick of hay nor ever had a bite of grass.

We cool our heels by the creek listening to the water tumble over the rocks and the cicadas singing overhead.
The deerflies start to annoy us all spoiling the moment of 'togetherness'...okay, I know wierd, but the dog, the mule, and I...we are a special trio.

We head back out to the sunny ridgetop to check out the apple trees. These are wild apple trees not an apple orchard that is tended to.

We spot the trees with their branches literally drooping like weeping willow trees because they are so full of apples.
I sit on Badger and pick one ... they are small, but very tasty. I grin and start to pick apples ... how many will fit in my cargo pants pockets I wonder?

Mr. Mule decides he should just go ahead and help himself.

I drop an apple core to Morris.

We are all munching on apples in the late afternoon sun.

We head home, Morris panting, my pockets full of tasty little apples, my mule drooling applesauce...

When I get home my hubby says...
*So how was your ride?*

I answer, *Oh fine, it was just a ride.*

Tonight my dog is sound asleep at my feet. Mr. Mule is munching on his hay bale, and I am thinking of what kind of container I can take back with the mule to gather enough apples for apple jelly.

Life...
Just Ride

Just thought this would be fun to look back on. This was an original post in August of 2008 when Badger, Morris, and I still rode nearly every single day together. We were an awesome Trio.

Repost from 2016

 

It is August and I finally got to the horse trailer to pull out all the tack and give it a good cleaning. Hubby no longer uses any of his saddles and ... it has been over a year since I've used any of mine.

Funny though, as I cleaned this black Stonewall Saddle I went down memory lane with memories of my first rides on Siera.

From 2016...my third ride on Siera--->

Every animal definitely has their own character.  Siera is one of those.  

We hadn't ridden off the farm since March 22, 2015 when hubby and I went looking for antlers last year after his cancer diagnosis.  I did take Siera for a short ride on March 29th of last year, but I've only ridden her two other times.
Once with Lily and Fred and once a few weeks ago.

Siera said NO, I am not going into the woods!
I said, yes, we are.
It took some coaxing but we headed down my hiking/riding trail.  

Siera stared at the logs that had fallen into the ditch.  She gave it a once over and then stepped across.  She kept turning her head and looking through the woods towards the summer pasture.  She twisted her head and shook it, nodding her nose up and down.

Siera was protesting leaving her farm/paddock buddies.  She was peeved.  Yet she moved forward.  I wanted to see if I could get her through a section of trail I'd just cleared this fall and winter.  
However she decided she was not going there.

NO
Yes.  Gently I asked her.

NO, I said NO, I mean NO, okay but under protest.

We were able to get through the mess of downed trees and to the first big ditch.  I was slightly surprised by the amount of water in the ditch.  The dirt was black and inky.

NO! Alert! Killer Mule Ditch, eats mules alive, out of shape fat molly mules named Siera.  NO!

Really Siera? However I just walked her along the edge of the ditch and looked around.  She began to sweat behind the ears and act irritated.  I let her stand for a moment before I turned her away.  I'd told my husband that I'd only work Siera on the eastern hillside section.  This path would take us beyond that.  And I could see that I needed to do a bit more trimming to keep the sapling branches from poking our eyes out.

I turned her away and we wove back up in the general direction of the farm.

Thank Goodness, Pony Woman, have you lost your mind and sense of direction? Home, yes, Home!

When we got to the up hill trail, the one I use often to go check for morels, wildflowers, and sometimes the round about way to the road and mail box...I turned Siera.

NO, you idiot.  Home is not this way!

Protest from my mule.  Head bobbing and shaking.  Her ears twisted back and forth and I asked her politely and then forcefully to take the trail.  And we went.
By the time we reached the top of the hill she was breathing hard but still flopping her head up and down and acting a bit homesick.
I decided to tie her up and let her calm down.
This is why I always ride with a rope halter.

I did an equipment check and then sat down on a stump and listened to Fred bray at home.  When in the paddock together he acted as if Siera was his mortal enemy.  When she was gone, he cried like a lovesick child.

Really? Tied to a tree Pony Woman?  Oh never mind, this calms me.  I can stand and relax.  I like this tree, do you like this tree?  It is a friendly tree. Hi nice tree, how are you?  

Siera seemed to calm down once tied to a tree.  Now I have never figured that out. If she is nervous, tie her to a tree and she'll just stand there.  Odd mule.

After she relaxed we rode my eastern hillside trails a few times, making a big circle.  Siera made a nice trail to follow so it will be easier once the leaves start to come back.  At first she tried to charge going down hill.  Each time she did, I turned her around and had her work back up hill.

YES, down down, let's go.  Home, home.  Uh-oh, NO! Not back up. Oh darn.
Okay, you win, I will walk like a sensible mule.  This is hard work and I don't like hard work.

We ended our ride on a very pleasant note, the last time we did the trail her ears were flopping and she was relaxed although a bit sweaty.
We went home.  I had to fill the stock tank and Siera had to cool down.  I tied her to the trailer and turned the hydrant on.

Then I went back and mounted Siera.  It was time for standing still while doing nothing with a rider on your back.

Boring.  I see grass.  Can I have grass? Please?  Oh you won't notice if I sneak forward and grab grass.  Oh darn you!

We had moved the Dexter cows due to give birth in the next few months out of their winter area and onto a grassy area.  I thought I'd ride Siera up between the buildings and up the narrow lane to check on them.
We got between the buildings and Siera froze.  At first I clucked and then tapped her with a foot.  She shook her head and backed up.

YOU idiot!  That could be a monster!  See that piece of nasty orange rusted metal? It could eat mules.  Let me look at it.  Let me look at it!

I sat and wondered why she was suddenly frozen and being obstinate.  I waited. Her head moved up and down, she sniffed.  I then did a slight kiss and she moved on through.

I'd forgotten the golden rule with Siera.  She needs to look some things over and convince herself that it isn't dangerous.  We walked passed Thor who ran and brayed in his paddock, she ignored him.  We went back to see the Dexters.  Siera acted curious.

Stupid cows.  You get the fine new grass pasture.  I get bupkiss.  I am still in a paddock.  Why are you so special?  What? Can't you talk? Dumb cows.  At least I am useful.  See? 

I sat on her and she watched the Dexters who watched her.  Finally we went around the other side to go check on their stock tank of water.

UH oh.  This could be a trap.  No, yes, no.  Maybe.  That black thing, it is a grill. Yes that is where they cook bad mules who don't behave.  Wait.  They don't eat mules.  Nice people don't eat their mules, right Pony Woman?

Siera had to stop and look at the grill that was in the driveway near the outhouse. She was not going to go passed it.  I sat and let her look the situation over.  We haven't done 'yard work' together in a long time.  

We finished all the chores that I could do, riding from one area of the yard to another and then I took her back to the trailer and curried her out.  She was dry and seemed to like it.

Nice lady, you are nice.  Gotta scratch right there, a little to the left please.  Oh much better.  Maybe I'll be good next time we ride together.  Maybe, a mule doesn't always make promises, especially if they are a molly mule.  We are known for having a female temper sometimes.

I turned her out and watched her find a dry spot to roll in.  I felt good.  I hadn't realized exactly how much I loved our forest adventures together.  I really needed to ride more.

PS... The photos of Siera are with her winter coat and before she gets a haircut. Normally, in the summer she is beyond stunning to look at!

I'm thinking. I may use my next nice days with Respite to take some riding time on my gals. It will only be in their mowed pasture, but heck, at least I can back in the saddle and chill out.

Valley Girl

The last day of November was bright and beautiful. Cold in the morning and sunny with temperatures heading up to 45 degrees!

What better way to celebrate the end of the gun season and the end of the month but to go out to the 'Reserve' and explore old places. I packed an apple and a few snacks.

Charlie and I set off. 

I wanted to search a small valley from the river to the highway. I want to find the ice cave that Rich took me past on my very first mule ride so many years ago. 

I started at Willow Camp and off we went. I forgot to start my Mapmywalk app. The green dot is where I remembered to pause and turn it on. Below is a terrain view of the hike. What I found was rather unexpected.

View from the old campsite that was abandoned due to constant flooding. If heavy rain is predicted it isn't smart to be anywhere near the river even if it is 10 feet above the 'Poo. This location is beautiful but brutal. The river here is fed by a small stream that would become a raging Flash Flood Monster so the water flow towards the campsite would be twofold.

I wanted to see if I could follow the tiny unnamed creek towards the highway. Riding through this area years ago I just watched my mule's footsteps and gazed around in wonder. There is no longer any designated trails in this area. However I found one of the old road beds. 

Was it there because of an old farm from the 1960's? 

Was it there because the Army Core Engineers built it? 

But there was a long straight flat area that led in the direction I wanted to go.

It ran just above the unnamed creek. 

Charlie and I detoured to look at an ice pond and investigate some bright red berries. I think the berries might be Highbush Cranberries? Not sure, but they were brilliant!

The 'road' - flat area disappeared and we ended up brush busting. The valley is deep with steep hillsides and rock formations on each side.

I found the highway and climbed up the hillside to see the ancient sign that faced the road.

This sign was from the early 1990's.  Young guys with huge monster trucks would come in and tear things up. The signs went up after a group came in with chain saws and cut trees down so they could drive down to the Kickapoo and mud bog.

Rich and I joined a group of loosely organized equine riders that went in and repaired the damage carrying all of our supplies of seed, bales of straw, and rakes on our animals. This was all before the Reserve became the Reserve.

We found the place where the creek met the highway.

I looked on the northside of the creek and found and old yellow marker. I can't recall if it was a property marker or what. 

The valley to the north was where I'd first been introduced to an ice cave. I mentally marked this area for exploration on my next hike.

We decided to find an old trail and remain on the south side of the Valley.

Charlie finds an old equine trail --- he is good at that!

I headed up the old equine trail which we lost often but generally located again. It ran aimlessly above the 'old' road.

Eventually I found an old homestead. Charlie and I took a break there and wondered what happened. 

Did they sell their farm, or were they one of the unlucky ones who had it condemned?

All that was left was their junk yard.

We found a point to look out from and down on where we had started our little journey.

We climbed back down and headed up old 131.

Charlie and I, The Valley Explorers.