It's Getting Hairy

Monday November 8 2010

Almost overnight, it seems, the horses have sprouted thick, fuzzy, winter coats. Do they know something we don't?

Maybe they have been consulting the weather forecast:

Starting tomorrow night: snow predicted for the first time!

(Yeahoooooooooo!)

More Owyhee 'Toons

Sunday November 7 2010

The rest of Day 1, Birch Creek. (Day 2 to come.... still slow!)

What - Me Cartoons?

Friday November 5 2010

Steph (Steph's Endurance) said she's starting to see life in cartoons - she's started drawing, instead of writing, about her adventures.

The Pickett Creek Brigade all saw in cartoons, after the Owyhee Hallowed Weenies ride last weekend. Some of us threatened to be guest cartoonists, since Steph jumped a plane next day to Malaysia, then Chile, for her next adventures.

I actually did it, making a stab at summing up the ride, cartoon style. It's a bit slow going... the ideas are there, but bringing them to life in Photoshop is a challenge, and a learning experience (I don't read instructions : ). And fun. Just slow.

I mean, why draw with a pen and paper when I can use a wobbly hand and a mouse in photoshop, winging it as I go along as to which tools, layers, sizes, blah blah, etc, to use?

Here are a few panels from Day 1, Birch Creek. (More to come.... just slow!)

Merri

She Makes Me Weep

Thursday November 4 2010

I'm not sure when that started - the weeping - probably sometime after her 14th or 15th straight victory. And it's not just that the amazing female Thoroughbred racehorse Zenyatta always wins, and it's not even who she runs against, but it's how she wins. Coming from behind. Usually from last. Often off a slow pace in front, which means there is no way she should be able to win. But she does. Every time. Although sometimes you don't know it or believe it until right at the wire. You can watch the replays again and again, and you still don't believe she's going to get there.

But she believes. She seems to know exactly how to time it to cause the most heart palpitations before she gets her nose first across the wire. Her jockey Mike Smith is awed by her. He thinks she's never hit her highest gear yet.

Ask anybody who follows horse racing - and just about anybody who doesn't - to name one Great racehorse, and they might come up with Man O' War or Secretariat. I'd add a few more: Ruffian, Citation, Seattle Slew, Affirmed, Forego, Kelso, John Henry, Seabiscuit. And Zenyatta.

What it is that makes a horse Great?

Is it winning a lot of races by daylight? Is it setting stakes records or world records in many races? Is it a filly beating the boys? Is it the how they win their races? Is it a hard-knocking horse running over many years and winning - which is very rare now? Is it one of the older handicap horses that consistently carried heavy weights (which is almost non-existent now) and consistently won with bad knees and ankles? Is it a horse with an undefeated record? Is it a horse with personality that captures the excitement of the public?

Is it a mare who knows she's good - because she is - and who dances and prances in the paddock and in the post parade, playing up for the crowd? Is it a mare that puts tears in her jockey's eyes and a catch in his throat when he talks about her?

Zenyatta has that power over me. Zenyatta is Great. She's one of the best I've seen in my lifetime. She's Great because she puts that catch in my throat when she stops to pose for her admirers. She makes me hold my breath, and makes the tears run down my face when she does her Zenyatta dance in the paddock and in the post parade, because she knows she's that good. She makes my heart slam painfully when she leaves the starting gate, and she makes it stop beating for just under 24 seconds when she flies through the stretch.

And when she crosses the finish line first, again, and comes back to survey the frenzy she caused in the grandstands - she makes me weep. Zenyatta makes me weep.

Zenyatta is 19 for 19. She runs her final race before retirement this Saturday in the Breeders' Cup Classic, a race she won last year over the boys.

Win or lose, one more time, my heart will be racing and stopping, my tears will be flowing. Zenyatta is, simply, the Greatest.

Here is a look at Zenyatta's win in the Breeders Cup Classic last year:
http://content.usatoday.com/communities/gameon/post/2010/11/zenyatta-breeders-cup-classic-horse-of-the-year-mike-smith/1

Here is a story on Zenyatta on 60 Minutes:
http://www.cbsnews.com/video/watch/?id=7009219n&tag=contentMain;contentBody

(Top photo is not by me - I wish! - it's on Zenyatta2010.com)

Hula Hula Hula!

Sunday October 31 2010

Hula Dancers (Connie and me, Finneas and Jose - who pinch-danced for Dudley, and another girl and her horse), Argentinean Gauchos (Steph and John), Sponge Bob Square Pantses, a Sheep who kept shedding wool along the trail, a Blue Tiger, a Man in a Black Cape, a Peacock, a couple of Ballerinas in Tutus, a Real Wild West Cowboy and Cowgirl...


Those were some of the Hallowed Weenies riding along the Utter Disaster Trail/Oregon Trail on Day Two of the Owyhee Hallowed Weenies endurance ride. A lone survivor of the Utter Disaster bravely took pulses at the vet checks, and Daisy Mae helped with the timing.


We of the Pickett Creek Brigade were late getting started on the trail again - almost 30 minutes late today. "Are you guys going or not!?" roared Regina the ride manager. We scuttled out onto the trail, hula skirts and Argentinean dreadlocks flapping in the wind.

The Gauchos and Hula Dancers split up, so our horses would be more settled today. Jose was so light in his bridle this morning (though we went along at a faster clip more to his suiting), that after loop 1, much to his delight, he went in a sidepull the rest of the day.


"HULA HULA!" I screamed, whenever we spotted anybody on horseback. We frightened a few horses, who had apparently never seen Hula Dancing Horses and riders before. (Go figure!) Naomi Preston's Karlady pinned her ears at such foolishness when she met us later in the day.


Blue storm clouds and silver virgae dramatized the morning skies and snow showers flirted with the Owyhee mountains, but we dodged the rain all day. We followed a new trail along an impressive rim overlooking some more fantastic Owyhee Badlands,

with Castle Butte looming purple in the east

and the gray buttes along the Snake River floating to the north. Jose was impressed with the scenery, stopping on the hills to look around at the views.


Back at camp for the first vet check, Connie discovered her dog Ben Jovi had locked himself in her car, when she told him to sit, and he sat on the car keys and locked the doors. Jovi could not be made to sit on the keys again to unlock the doors, so Connie and several people tried to unlock the doors through a back cracked window with a lunge whip. In the end, the Ben Jovi was freed, and it was just about time to go back out on the trail.

18-mile loop two, the same old loop that takes us by the Snake River was the same old impressive. Always a different hue, today the Snake was a light silver-blue, reflecting the skies.

We caught up with the Man in the Black Cape, the Blue Tiger, and Lynn and Agnes (dressed as Lynn and Agnes) at the prettiest part of the trail.


The last 12-mile loop 3 took us across the highway into the backside of Oreana. Jose, as always, with his eagle eyes caught all movements in the distance and stopped to stare - trucks, cows, a tiny distant rider on horseback, and the Bates Creek drainage.

We hula'd back to camp as the sun threw our long shadows across the golden fields above basecamp.

I hugged my pal Jose, thanking him for another terrific dance.

(Note: Tani Bates won the 75 on day 1, and the 50 on day 2, both on the same horse! Congrats to Tani and CR Marjan Roars!)

Roller Derby

Tuesday November 2 2010

Nothing better than a good roll in the Owyhee Spa clay on a golden fall morning.

The Pickett Creek Brigade

Saturday October 30 2010

We'd never done it before: all 5 of us Pickett Creek neighbors riding a 50-mile ride together (me, Connie, Steph, John, Carol).


It was fun, challenging, beautiful - a tour southward toward the Owyhee mountains, through some new Owyhee Badlands, up Birch Creek wash, past the hobbit hole Wind Caves,

into Birch Creek Canyon under the narrow red rhyolite cliffs,

further up the canyon where a spring still flows,

and a hidden grove of renegade Russian olive trees and golden cottonwood trees shelter (at least one of each) a great horned owl, a long-eared owl, a Raven, and a sharp-shinned hawk.


It was fun and challenging for the horses: Jose, Finneas, Rhett, Mac, and Suz - four of which preferred to lead (Mac was the only one who preferred following), so there was always a bit of shuffling and jostling, and sticking noses out front, and pulling harder on bits, as the new leader took his or her turn.


Rain was in the forecast, but the dark blue skies only kept the desert cool, and kept the buffalo gnats to a minimum, and accented the reds of the canyon and the golds of the autumn leaves.

Connie learned a lesson: never, ever, ever, when your horse partially loses a hind Easyboot glove going up a steep single track trail, dismount to pull the boot off, while he's got his head down eating, without holding on to the reins. Or you just might watch your horse decide to go start walking up the steep hill without you, then start running up the steep hill without you, leaving you to realize that your horse may have just run all the way back to the vet check (or home, or gotten lost) and you now might have a very long way to walk back on foot, seven miles or so (or however far you might want to track your horse in the desert).

I learned a lesson: don't just sit behind and watch the whole thing without saying anything!

(Turns out Finneas ran up and over the hill another fifty yards and willingly stopped with Steph, John and Carol and their horses, as his other 3 boots flew off in all directions. We spent 15 minutes there as all four of the boots were found scattered in the sagebrush, and she and Steph got the boots back on with tape on the hooves and around the velcro straps, and by pounding the boots on with a rock.)


I learned another lesson: Jose is a different horse when he is Fresh Fresh Fresh!! He was full of himself, having done virtually nothing, other than some easy training rides, and 2 Limited Distance rides at the September Canyonlands ride, since the Owyhee Fandango in May (!!). The first 19 mile loop he wanted to go faster than our pace (and preferred to be in front), the second 18 mile loop he wanted to go Faster Than Our Pace (and Preferred To Be In Front), and the third 19 mile loop back home he wanted to GO FASTER! I'd been using my seat and legs a lot the first two loops to stay off his mouth, but after 38 miles my legs were jello and I just had to let him pull. That horse did not get tired! Whereas, I was whooped by the end of the ride.


The Pickett Creek Brigade pulled five abreast on the last hundred yard stretch, charging down Wees Road to basecamp.

We wheeled the corner turn into the ranch in a line as a perfect drill team, and Pickett Creek called it a perfect 5 for 5 (actually six for six - additional neighbor Linda finished the Limited Distance on Krusty!) (actually seven for seven - additional visiting adopted neighbor Judy finished the Limited Distance on her horse Milan!) at Day 1 of the Owyhee Hallowed Weenies.