Eight Whole Years!

Today Milo is eight years old. Happy Birthday to Milo! That means that we are nearing the FIVE year mark of partnership/ownership. I cant believe how big and grown up I have watched my scrawny little had-been three year old become. What an incredible journey we have shared together. Heres a small recap of some of our milestones:

First ride together...June 16, 2007

July 1, 2007, the day after he was brought home. Stood at 15.1 hands high! 

Second show ever, first show riding. Took Reserve Champion in W/J Stockseat Equitation. 

First trail class, this show was County Fair in August 2007, only two months after having him. Thats right - Milo went English too!

Milo's first clip and our first winter together. 

Christmas Eve, 2007. He was getting stockier! But he would only shoot up and get lanky again. Haha. 

I had my senior photos taken with him.

In 2008 we joined the Thunderbird Cowgirls Rodeo Drill Team, but Milo wasnt able to go into the rodeo due to an abscess. That summer however we attended a few more shows, and the County Fair for my last year. We placed Reserve Champions in the Senior Showmanship, and qualified to go to State. 

Surprisingly, at the State Fair we did out best in the English classes. But it was at State that I realized that rail classes were really not what Milo wanted to do. 

In 2009 I tried out for the Miss Kitsap County Fair and Stampede Rodeo Queen title. We for First Runner Up, but I was OK with that; we still rode on the drill team...

Drill Team Practice.

Rode in our second Parade.

And were able to ride in the rodeo together for our first time. 

In the winter of 2010 we started getting cattle fever and attended our first cattle clinic, getting interested in the reining and sorting. I had found what Milo really loved.

We still rode in the rodeo that, year, but it would be our last. I was much more interested in learning more about reining, and primarily, reined cow horse. 

We started attending more sorting events and were having a blast. But something felt amiss, and that fall (2010) I started working more closely with Sarah in training instead of just saddle fitting.

We attended our first reining shows in a six show series winter of 2010/11 and ended up winning the buckle in Beginning Reining! More reining shows would follow that coming summer...

Leading us to were we are now. I've still got the reining bug, but really want to get more involved in the reined cow horse. Instead of just having show aspirations, I have began having horsemanship aspirations. All the fun stuff like ribbons and shows come with improving horsemanship and our partnership as a whole. I look forward to a whole lot more years with Milo, and further education. 

Happy Birthday, Justa Cool Milo. 

Love, Mom

Not the ride I was hoping for

I guess I had some expectations going into my ride today. I know, not good, but I was hoping that my 21st birthday ride would be something to remember....for a good reason. I wasnt sure I wanted to post about this, but there must be a lesson in here somewhere...

I tacked up Milo with all the fixings for a trail ride. Fortunately for me with my birthday in the summer, Im usually always guaranteed a nice day, and today was no exception. I knew I wanted to hit the trails and get some sun for this special day. Throughout the week I had been asking if anyone was available to join me on the trail, but because its a Friday, most were working. Initially, I wasnt thrilled about going out alone, but decided I had done it so many times in the past, today would be just fine.

Interestingly, the night before as I had my last few thoughts before falling asleep, I pondered going on the trail without my helmet. I ride in the arena and at unfamiliar places without it, why not the trail? I barely even got the thought through my head and another voice screamed, "NO! NO! Wear your helmet on the trail! This would be the ONE time that something bad happened". I still considered my theory that I dont like going on the trail alone, but with my cell phone in my pocket, a helmet on my head, and chinks covering my legs, I ventured out - alone. In fact, I enjoyed the time to spend solely with my horse and not chit chatting with anyone. I decided it would be a good opportunity to "find my seat" as Sarah had suggested me doing my loping a long stretch of trail and finding the balance in my seat.

This was my intention upon hitting the trail. I wanted to be able to come back from it and tell you all that I found it, that we got our lead changes, and all went well and according to plan.

Silly me, I should have known you cant go into a ride with expectations.

To begin with, Milo spooked in the usual place before entering the trail. The solid fence outside a house that always bears barking dogs unseen behind it always makes Milo on edge, but this day Milo not only stopped and raised his head to stare at the unseen, but he whirled around and proceeded to take off the other direction. Of course I wasnt ok with that, and sent him back towards the fenceline. Again, he spun backwards, and with my encouragement for forward, he shot backwards, avoiding any means of direction from me. I seriously thought we wouldnt make it past there, and I had never experienced a spook like this from Milo before.

But, we did make it beyond the unseen barking dogs, and we were on the trail now. We actually enjoyed some nice trotting with a lifted back, and I started to try and find or rhythm together. There was a perfect opportunity for a lope with a long stretch of trail before us. I urged Milo into the lope, and really wanted to try for the lead change. Again, the voice told me not to - he was excited on the trail, not fully listening, not fully using his body, and certainly not fatigued to the lead as we get in the arena. And yet, I wanted to do what Sarah suggested, and I wanted to find those magical lead changes.

Unfortunately, wanting and performing are two separate things. It seems the more I want something to happen, the less I allow it to in my body. Needless to say, we did not get any changes.

And then the real event of the trail ride happened. As we were walking along a gravel logging road, a road that did not suit any working on with the deep gravel, I used the opportunity to let Milo get some air. A fork in the trail was coming up, but I thought nothing of it. We had passed this spot many, many, many times on our usual trail route, and what is scary about a fork in the road? Something was to Milo and he stopped his feet dead in his tracks and lifted his head up in his best impersonation of a giraffe. Instantly, he whirled back as he had done at the dog fence, and prepared to take off back for home. Heck no was I allowing that, and I brought him back around and urged him forward. Another double back, another turn around from me. Another flying backwards episode, urging legs and rein from me. One more spin back, and I tried to turn his head back around. This spin back sent Milo into the bushes on the side of the trail, which was up a mount slightly. As he turned around, and now with his head off center, and the footing not even, Milo scrambled to find his feet and we went down.

It played in slow motion, like these events tend to do, and I felt the slip of his hind feet as he tried to find a grip on the gravel. No anchor to grab onto, his foothold failed him, and his back and front went down simultaneously, directly onto the right side. As we came down, I knew we would land directly onto my right leg. In fact, the impact directed at the right stirrup, and we sort of crumpled around that, and the motion of the slipping rear took the hind end's weight off of the side. I had no problem getting my feet out of the stirrups - in fact, they seemed to do it themselves without my direction, but I still held one rein. Milo was barely down a moment, and he was right back up again. Me, not so much.

Although thankful that my helmet was on, my head never made contact with the ground (thank God), but I was most appreciative of my chinks. The chinks made the most impact with the gravel, and I think really saved me from getting torn up at all. It only took a few moments to process, and I felt that everything seemed to be in working order still, and I stood up. My feet (which had already been killing me from very poor tennis shoes I have been wearing while pushing carts at work) were hurting, and my right one particularly from impact. I felt a little crippled as I walked still, but typical for the past few days. But I felt no real "pain" and I led Milo towards the Y in the trail, as he was still upset about it. He tried to pull back once and I was able to use the end of the reins to slap behind him. As if nothing happened, suddenly Milo calmly walked forward and didnt care about the fork in the road anymore. Horses.

I mounted back up and we continued on our way. Milo was quiet and calm for a few minutes as we walked along, and then we had an issue with him listening to my lateral aids. I got really frustrated and ended up texting Sarah and getting a real lump in my throat. Tears welled up and I felt childish and wondered why on earth I was crying. I suppose frustration, the event that occurred, and the fact that my perfectly planned out ride was not meeting my expectations. I did, however, work on simple changes along another stretch of trail, and did, by the end, get some very nice changes. I suppose I will focus on that "ta-da" for today.

Not the memory I wanted to hold for this day, but a memory nonetheless.

The Big Seven! And a Trail Ride

The Pacific Northwest enjoyed a beautiful day yesterday with temperatures reaching 61 degrees. It was warm and beautiful with the sunshine out. I had been itching to get on the trail the last few weeks, but every scheduled trail ride got canceled due to rain. Curse you rain! Normally, I wouldnt trail ride on a weekday as I dont get off work until 4:30, however after daylight savings time, the days have been long well into six, even seven o'clock.

Not wanting to miss a rare opporunity to jump out on the trail, I texted a friend who keeps her horse only a few short miles down the road from the barn. She was eager to trail ride too and hauled out to meet me. In the spirit of bareback riding, she joined me with her bareback pad. Helmeted, and "saddled up" we hit the trails, anticipating about an hour long trail ride. Just enough to get the horses out, and enough time to soak up some rays.

The walk to the trail head is usually met with a few hurdles: at least two "packs" of dogs, known to chase after people and horses, a cross over a quiet road, two curly horses (the horses always have to gawk at them), two goats, more dogs, and yesterday, a pogo stick.

Yes, we passed a boy bouncing on his pogo stick. Sproing, sproing, sproing. Milo had since passed all the previous death traps, as well as two oncoming bicyclists, but this pogo stick was bouncing up and down, taking the small child for a ride, and belching a rusty, creaking noise along the way. Milo stopped dead still and eyeballed (stared down) the evil bouncing torture device. We walked forward tow more steps, where he then stopped and pivoted around to stare at it some more. Naturally, the kid didnt realize what he was doing to my horse, and merrily kept bouncing along in his driveway. Milo was wound tighter then the coiled springs in that pogo stick. He was prancing in place as I tried to walk him forward from the terror, his every step poised and ready to explode forward if the pogo threat were to become too unbearable.

We did, finally, reach the trail head, but after the pogo incident it took a few minutes to get Milo back "under control" as now every rustle, dog walker, or even corner put him on high alert.

We wound our way through the first small trail, reaching the logging roads thereafter. An inviting slope encourged us to set to work, and I easily trotted Milo up it, still pushing him into using his body correctly to work up the hill, and even working on reaching into the balance of the outside rein. Milo was trotting well on the straight-of-ways, but an impeding corner would cause him to creen his head up and around, anticipating a monster around the corner.

Milo was working well, however, and throughout the ride I encouraged him to work off my outside rein (this being the right rein, as my terrible habit is to ride off the left rein). He was doing very well, and was really lifting up his back and engaging his core. I even worked on some arcing, and at one point where my friend needed to adjust her pad, worked on stepping him up nicely for a turnaround. Milo did very well. This is far different then the typical trail rides we embark on, where its mostly meandering at a walk and chatting with friends. But I had a purpose today in that I wanted him to really stretch out his legs and work up those hills.

Something felt different from the start of the ride and throughout. Nothing felt "off", or "not right" but something was definitely different. Milo's back felt odd. Now, we all know I ride in this bareback pad during every ride (unless its a lesson or horse show, to which I can borrow Sarah's saddle), and have grown very acustom to how my horse feels under it. His back felt, almost, taller, and more strong, to put it into words. He felt like he was really supporting my weight, and simply felt stronger.

We did enjoy a few more trot strides up hills and on straight of ways, then found a winding trail to weave our way back to the head. I had a general trail route in mind from the get-go, knowing these trails would offer hills, turns, and the perfect amount of time for riding. We zig zagged through this connecting trail at an even jog. Milo was working and engaged, breathing in and out steadily. I heard my friend's horse behind me, a bit more out of breath. Asking if she wanted to walk, she said no, and we continued jogging along. Reaching another logging trail and steeper hill, I asked if we could lope, to which my riding partner agreed. We loped easily up the hill, Milo still working nicely. It was only for a few strides until we reached the top and came down to a walk. Milo was puffing a little more now, and we put them on the last trail back to home.

The tree cover was blocking the falling light, and the sunglasses I had on darkened everything as well. We weaved through the trail and reached the large puddle. This is more like a small pond then a puddle, really, as it stays (but drains slightly) year-round. Knowing it would only be just above the fetlocks, we bagan wading through. In fact, after the rain the last two weeks, it was now definitely to the horse's knees. But they soldiered through nicely, I was proud of Milo who only snorted at it at the beginning.

Out of the puddle now and back on the way home, I patted Milo and told him what a good boy he was, allowing the rest of the walk home for cooldown. We walked back home chatting, and still enjoying the warm weather, even with the disappearing sun. I thanked my friend for coming out with me, and thought to myself that I should really try and incorporate a ride such as this one more often, to even once a week as allowed by the weather.

I didnt even break a sweat, Mom!

Now, on to the most important topic of the day, Milo is now 7 years old. Yep, its my little boy's birthday. He's grown up so fast! In honor of this, I have been posting segments of our early days together, I hope you have enjoyed reading the first installments as much as I have enjoyed revisiting those memories.

Happy Birthday, Justa Cool Milo.

Official birthday boy photos to come, as I visit with him after work this evening.