Wet, Wintry, Windy, Wonderful

Saturday November 3 2014

I like a good cold rain while riding on a horse who possibly has a stick of lit dynamite up his butt as much as the next person (oh - wait - I am the only person I know who likes the good cold rain while riding, though I could do without the stick-of-lit-dynamite-up-his-butt part), but the thought of waking up before dawn with the cold rain already falling, and going out and saddling up in the rain for a 90%-chance-of-rain-and-45*-and-wind day is a bit daunting, even for me.

But when my alarm went off for the Owyhee Hallowed Weenies, the last ride of the season, and it wasn't raining yet, I was pretty happy. And when Carol and August, and Dudley and I found a bubble at the start (and in fact, the entire day - it was like we were the only ones out on a 50-mile training ride), with no riders in sight ahead of us or behind us, all day, and Dudley never had a stick of dynamite in him, it turned into an awesome ride.


It was an awesome ride, even when, middle of the first 15-mile loop, I decided to put on my rain jacket right before the rain started coming down, and I reached in my saddle bag and pulled out… my rain pants.

Hmm.

I tried sticking my arms in the pant legs - no go. So I knotted the pants around my neck like an unfashionable rubber scarf for a while, till Carol remembered she had an extra raincoat with her. (Note to self: spray paint your black rain pants bright orange, so you don't get them confused with your black raincoat).


It was an awesome ride, even in the rain, that continued all day, and the cold, which was only mild at 44*, and the wind, which you were shielded against with your proper raincoat. It was an awesome weather day for a horse and rider who don't do so well riding in hot weather (Dudley and me).

It was an awesome ride, because the Raven, dressed as a cardinal for Halloween, rode along as usual!


It was an awesome ride, because it was Dudley's fourth 50-mile ride of the year, an awesome accomplishment for the big beast I fondly call, among other things, a Recovering Obesaholic. He's come a long way and accomplished a lot this year.


He'll keep up the diet and the exercise this winter (in between his Trick Training) and aim for an even better endurance season next year!


For a ride recap, and results and more photos, see
http://www.endurance.net/international/USA/2014OwyheeHallowedWeenies/

A Tease

Tuesday September 3 2013

It was so deliciously auspicious: 60% chance of heavy rain, and a Flash Flood Warning.

And it started out so promising. The skies dimmed; a light rain began falling in the morning. It lasted an hour… the mountains disappeared, the horses got wet…


Finneas even rolled and covered himself in mud, something he rarely does (he rather likes to stay clean and shiny, because he's a grandson of the Black Stallion).




It lasted another hour…

and fizzled. Sun came out and dried the ground in shorter time than it took to get wet.

Showers and thunderstorms are still likely through tomorrow night, but the sun is gaily shining and I don't hold out much hope. I'll believe it when I can dance in it.

We Are The Chosen Ones

Friday May 17 2013

"60% chance showers likely" doesn't hold much weight with me, when the forecast is for the Owyhee desert in the summer. The desert and I have been disappointed too many times. Most often any rain will hang over the Owyhee mountains and not quite make it down here, 6 miles away. I do, however, take heed any time there are thunderstorms in the forecast… there was a chance today, after noon.

Carol and I rode Zeb and Mac on a 20 mile ride this morning, with rain clouds over the Owyhees, but with not much fear of getting wet.

Just as we were riding down our last hill near home around noon at the end of our ride, the mountain rain was definitely coming our way; we were just starting to feel a few sprinkles. It looked like our desert might indeed get a little refreshing shower.

There were also two very dark and ominous blue clouds heading directly for us that I did not like the suspicious thunderstormy looks of.

Sure enough, as soon as I started untacking Mac at the house, it started raining. Mac finished his grain meal and I turned him loose just as the skies opened up with a Malaysia-like monsoon rain.

It DUMPED, hurling cascades of water and spitballs of hail. I huddled under a cottonwood tree, enjoying the saturated chaos around me, debating about running through the downpour to the tack room, when I was encouraged to take the run option by a cannon of thunder that cracked across the sky.

I half-sprinted, half-danced through the glorious bombardment of rain and hail to the shelter of the tack room, and stood at the door mesmerized, thrilled by the foreign deluge and torrents launched from heaven to earth.


The horse herd turned their butts to the pelting drops, heads to the ground, while the parched desert ground became lakes, rushing rivers, and floods.

As the dark storm cloud and thunder moved northward, new streams

joined old creeks

to swirl and twirl in a colorful rushing dance downstream.


The horses headed for their favorite dirt pile, to 'wash off' the rain with several celebratory rolls in the sand.





We all felt very special, horses and humans and desert, the Chosen Ones who experienced this delightful desert downpour.

Yes, this was my clean white riding horse

Music to My Eyes

Monday October 22 2012 

I have been waiting for this day for a loooong time. Many times during the long hot dry summer, the song of winter played in my head, and I dreamed at nights and imagined during the days: rain, cold, snow.

Today, I got them all at once!

The herd lined up butts to the weather as the cold wind pushed the clouds down from the Owyhee mountains and the cold rain started its glorious descent from the heavens.

Luna still does not know what to do with herself in the rain. She kind of likes it… but she kind of doesn't. (She's the same with water from the hose - when Jose comes up to get a bath, she watches and kind of wants to get sprayed a little bit… but then she doesn't.) She ran around in circles, tried to crawl under the hay feeder, backed up into horses and kicked at them, and pestered Tex for a while.

[slide show here]

Luna was later worn out from her pro/anti-rain demonstrations, and rested in view of the snow-kissed Owyhees, as another storm headed this way.

Jose and Tex celebrated the fine turn of weather events with a bit of Owyhee Gladiator wrestling.

[slide show here]

It was a great day in Owyhee, and the forecast for the week looks delicious!

Owyhee Fandango Day 2: 50 Miles for Jose!

Saturday May 26 2012

Jose and I had another awesome 50 mile ride on Day 2 of the Owyhee Fandango. It was gray and wet and dreary and chilly - just the kind of weather I love. So sue me! The second loop was getting pretty mucky and slippery though, I didn't love the mud. But the horses did great.

I'm pointing out our Bates Creek eagle nest.

Amanda's shooting this from Breve's back.

In Hart Creek.

Amanda thought she'd be nice to her horse and walk on foot up this slick-snot muddy-clay-y hill... and she about couldn't walk for the 6 inches of mud/clay stuck to the bottom of her boots. I told her to lift her foot up so I could get a good picture, but she couldn't lift it up any higher than this!

More stories and photos, much more coming, and follow the ride on twitter - EnduranceNet, or at

http://www.endurance.net/international/USA/2012Fandango/

Nobody Here But Us (Wet) Chickens

Saturday March 17 2012

With odd weather all over the country, Owyhee is getting its share of wetness. It's so slick, there's no thundering down the canyon - the horses walk around carefully in the mud.

Everybody looks like a wet chicken, including the cats who run through the rain then stop to lick their paws - as if that will help anything.

Jose, up top, strikes a handsome wet chicken pose.

I think that of all the herd Mac most enjoys being dirty as he can get. It's probably like a dark-haired human going platinum blond for a while, only vice versa.

The salt block is a quite popular social gathering place in the winter. The mud probably gives it a special spicy flavor.

Stormy isn't irritated by being photographed as a wet chicken; he doesn't like being bothered when he's eating.

More of the wet stuff and white stuff to come! Winter is not ready to leave yet, and I'm not ready to let it go!

My Eyebrows Are Sweating

Thursday March 15 2012

So said Jose, after the ride we squeeeeeezed in today, between days of gale force winds, rainstorms, slick ground, hurricanes, and more rain and snow (yay!!!) and slick ground to come.

Our first local endurance ride, the Owyhee Tough Sucker, is coming up April 7 - and our training has been sporadic the last two weeks and will be over the next couple of weeks, due to weather and traveling.

We took the horses on the Three Cheese Casserole ride - three layers of washes - 2 miles up a wash, 3 miles down another wash, and 1 1/2 miles up another wash and up onto a ridge. The sand is somewhat deep now, and with the horses still wearing partial winter coats (they have started to shed), it was a strenuous workout.

I don't ride with a heart monitor, so I go on knowledge - what I know the horse has been doing, and what he can take - and by how much he sweats. I've always heard that when the top of a horse's butt gets sweaty, he's either out of shape, or working very hard. I've never seen a scientific study on this, but I have found it to be accurate. And when their eyebrows are sweating, they're producing a lot of heat.

Unless the wind is just right, I can't hear my horse breathing when I'm trotting or cantering, but today I could hear Rhett huffing behind me on the third Cheese layer, and I used that to help gauge the effort the horses were putting out.

Today the horses worked up a good sweat under their saddle pads, on the neck and chest 

and shoulders, 

and between and down the back legs (you know, the 'shaving cream').

And the reward was a taste of the hint of green grass starting to color the desert.

A Soup Kinda Day

Wednesday December 29 2010

Red skies at morning...

The predicted rain began around noon. Hesitantly at first, then casually, then boldly. A desert winter rain: steady, persistent, protracted (some might say: interminable). A gray, heavy, wet, soupy day. A good one to sit around the fire curled up around a hot cup of coffee and a hot bowl of soup.


Into the evening, little puddles became little lakes; little trickles became little streams down the washes and roads. Soggy horses, and a few stunned people who expected the sunny warm skies ("It's Phoenix for crying out loud!") and didn't bring rain gear or winter tights. Some people from New York and the Northwest and Utah thought they'd escape the snow and rain for the warm and dry Southwest.


But plenty of smiles and large doses of humor lit the faces of the 40-some intrepid endurance riders vetting their horses in, that didn't cancel (down from 90-some pre-entries), and who planned to mount their horses at 7:30 tomorrow morning for Day 1 of the Resolution Endurance Ride.


Ride manager Rusty roamed base camp with his hands wrapped around a cup of hot chocolate and a laugh on his lips. Trails are marked, everything is ready, and there's nothing to be done about the weather but saddle up and ride!

Twisted

Saturday December 11 2010

Gray. Gloomy. Dreary. Heavy skies. The Owyhee mountains are gone. Can't see the next ridge - it is consumed by the low sky, fog, mist, drizzle.


Too cold to rain, too warm to snow. Sleet. Spitting, stinging drops that prick the eyeballs and numb the cheeks.


Horses are soggy. They sport the Wet Chicken look, though as long as they're eating, they don't seem to mind.


Birds are waterlogged. The Ravens sit silent, holed up in a leaf-less cottonwood tree, feathers fluffed up to insulate against the wet and cold, waiting for a better day to raise a ruckus.

The desert scrub is sodden. Dripping, drooping, dark brown, dull gold.


Water, soon to be ice, fills coyote tracks. The tracks are deep, heavy. Mud cakes to feet, weighing them down.


Predator and prey have advantages, disadvantages. One slip in the slick mud and the prey loses. One miscalculated slip and the predator loses. She loses the energy it took to go after a meal, and she goes without a meal another night. Not many places in the desert sleet to get dry.

I take to the hills, vanish into the murk. Sleet stabbing my face. Mud caking my shoes, water soaking my clothes, minute icicles dripping from my hair, making me laden as the saturated desert.

I love it.

I must be twisted.