Tuesday morning I feel beaten up on every level. I’m not proud of how I handled last night. My arms and shoulders ache, bruises in full bloom on my left leg, hip, side, my left wrist is scabbing over and tender to the touch. I feed and water the ponies, then come back into the big barn to make myself a hot mug of Joe’y on my little camp stove, taking deep breaths, stretching in small increments, trying to put the last two days behind me. Joe’y is my “not-coffee” and comes mail order. This particular bag was delivered to Laura’s house (my first host) and Susan picked it up for me a couple of weeks ago just before April and Kitty drove the Nun from her place two hours to Lisa’s. (It takes a village!) Joe’y has come out with a new flavor, Vanilla, and I’ve been saving it for a special occasion. This morning I decide to treat myself. There’s a tag on the package that says “I believe in you” which is the sort of thing that Joe’y does and it hadn’t really registered beyond that, but this morning I turn the tag over and it’s a handwritten note from Laura – and I’m suddenly just sobbing. I hadn’t realized how alone I’d been feeling in the middle of all this non-consensual and overwhelming socializing (after thinking the whole trip was about to come crashing to a shattered end four times the day before) and a quiet note of care and confidence from a friend just undid me. All the feelings come rushing in at once and I take my mug back into the wagon and just let go. Hiding in the Mustard Seed, trembling, seething, frustrated, mortified, terrified, sad, lonely, overwhelmed, aching body and soul while waiting for helpful visitors is probably not the best use of a day off, but in this moment it’s the best I can manage. I finally have wifi and I ought to be writing a blog post but after the past two days I just can’t get my brain organized.

Tomorrow is a big day. At 9am a draft horse man is coming to take a look at the harness and the wagon and see if he can figure out what’s going wrong – so I’ll need to wake up early enough to have the ponies and the wagon ready for that. At noon I’ve got a video conference with my publisher to (at long last, hallelujah!) get my memoir up on Amazon. Meanwhile, I’m starting to get the vibe that I’m on the verge of overstaying my welcome here. There are events happening at the Fairground this weekend that require the use of the barn, so Thursday morning I need to be on my way. Tomorrow is Wednesday already and once I’ve spoken with Armando and gotten Free Range Rodeo: Horseback through the Apocalypse uploaded I need to get everything reorganized for rolling down the road. Ready or not.

DB has said he’s coming to pick me up in his van to show me the route to my next stop and introduce me to my host. He hasn’t said when. When he shows up after 5pm it’s just to let me know that he’s been busy and we’ll go tomorrow instead. I apologize for being rude to his friends and he admits that they all know Gas Bag is like that. His Lady Friend has sent word that she’s also postponing until tomorrow. Whatever. Once he leaves and I’m no longer waiting for anything to happen I realize that I haven’t managed to feed myself all day, so I put rice and broccoli in my little rice cooker and plug it in. I’m rationing hay because we’ve stayed longer than anticipated and Thick has managed to lose two balls inside the barn somewhere.

Wednesday morning I’m up early, wagon rolled outside and ponies ready for action by 9am. And then I wait. For an hour. The draft horse man shows up at 10am and watches me harness and hitch the ponies, watches me drive them around the parking lot. The issues are worse at a strong trot and Theodore is trying to run away when we go faster than a slow jog. The turns in the fairgrounds are frequent and tight so we don’t get to do much trotting. The draft horse man says he doesn’t see anything wrong but he does tell me about a place two nights away with a man named Terry Marker who has been driving since he was 10 years old who has a 6 Percheron hitch. If I can get there, I’ll have expert help and a place to stay. And then it’s noon and the video conference with Armando goes well and soon enough I have submitted my book to Amazon in both paperback and hardcover editions – and now it’s just a matter of waiting for Amazon to make sure I haven’t violated any guidelines – could be up to 72 hours. OK. DB shows up and I hop in the passenger seat and write down the directions road by road as we drive to Russia – pronounced Roo-shee in Ohio – I meet the son of the family I’ll be staying with, see the paddock the ponies will call home for the night, all good.

By Thursday morning the ponies are out of hay and not a single person has been willing to sit down with me for a Neighbor interview during my sojourn at the Fairgrounds. I’m not at all surprised when DB is half an hour later than anticipated, but he helps me get the team hitched up and I’m grateful that he follows us in his van for the first mile, because it is scary! Loud trucks, railroad tracks, a bridge over Highway 75, lots of traffic, waiting at lights, the ponies are spicy after several days off and I’m keeping it to a walk so it takes over half an hour before we turn down a quieter road and are on our way. 14 miles and it’s better than Monday but there’s still something not right in Franklin’s world. He’s got so much try and he’s doing his job but I’ve got to get this figured out or we can’t continue. He’s leaning his entire body out away from Theodore with his head and neck turned inward – it’s an awkward position and the faster he goes the worse it gets. At the walk, everything is fine, so we do a lot of walking, which is very, very slow.

The cattle pen comes with an entire bale of Sudan grass hay which the ponies devour overnight. I appreciate the bathroom in the barn. Thick taunts the coon hounds in their cages and I fall asleep early, lulled by the sound of distant trains, grateful for the solitude, for the quiet competence and hospitality of Caden, a young man who just finished his Junior year of HS and is the only person I see during the whole time I’m there. He is used to handling cattle and doesn’t put up with any nonsense from Theodore while I’m hitching up in the morning. He tells me the best route to our next stop and sees us on our way.

15 miles today to Versailles – pronounced ver-Sails in Ohio – and every mile feels like a fight. Theodore jogs along, traces loose, doing no work at all, ignoring Franklin, relaxed and lazy like none of this has anything to do with him. Franklin is done playing nice, he’s heavy on the lines, fighting the bit, doing all the work and hating every moment of it. I’m still sore from last Sunday and the last thing I want is to be playing tug of war with a miserable pony but we’re headed for expert help and I just want to get there and solve the problem once and for all. The sun is beating down, the miles and hours are dragging, Thick goes into the back of the wagon for a nap, the town of Versailles is charming and people driving by keep aiming their cell phone cameras at us but I’m having a hard time mustering my usually cheerful wave and grin. Both hands on the reins, this is not my best day with Franklin, nor his best day with me. I’m the human and it’s 100% on me to fix it and I don’t know how.

By the time we get to Terry and Pam Marker’s place I’m spent. Terry opens the barn door wide and we drive right in. I step out of the wagon and look around, trying to get oriented. I feel like we’ve stumbled into the land of the giants. Terry is a normal sized human but the 6 black Percherons looking down out of their stalls are immense, the draft collars hanging on the walls look like they’d fit around my pony’s bellies. The resident dog, Stormy, is an ancient Saint Bernard. Thick is fully intimidated. The radio is country music, loud, I can’t think clearly, feel like I’m moving through a fog, I move to start unharnessing the ponies and start with unbuckling the reins. Terry is there and helping me and once we get them fully unhitched he carefully mentions that I might not be doing things in the safest order? Bridles and reins should stay on until the ponies are fully detached from the wagon. He’s apologetic but I thank him and say that I hadn’t driven in 30 years before starting this adventure, I’ve forgotten a LOT and there’s even more I never learned and I’m here because he’s the expert and I’m hoping he can get me and the ponies sorted out and teach me enough that I don’t wreck a good little team with my ignorance. Franklin is standing with his head down by his knees, exhausted, and feeling guilty isn’t going to help him a bit.

The ponies go out into a big dirt paddock with hay and water, they roll and trot around a bit exploring and then start munching on hay, refueling after the long day. Thick and I are offered the use of a camper with electricity and gas but no water hooked up so I bring my privy bucket inside and fill my water jugs from the hose. It feels good to have a bit of private space for a minute and Pam invites me to join them for dinner: steak and baked potatoes and salad – all food I can actually eat! Once I get settled I connect to the WiFi and check on my book – and it’s there! For sale on Amazon like a real live book! I order a box of them to be sent to Sheridan, IN – a planned rest stop. Huzzah! What’s especially cool about the timing is that one of my soul friends, Rachel McCartney, has a new album out, Taming Dragons, and it dropped the very same day! Rachel and I have been friends since she was 13 and I was 18. Our moms were friends back in HS. She’s one of my favorite songwriters and this is her first album since taking a 17 year break to become a nurse and raise two humans and I really love it. Enjoy!

Three nights in the camper and I’m feeling much better. Being able to write a blog post about the book release saves me from tackling the much harder (disaster) blog posts I’ve been avoiding, Pam shows me her horse drawn hearse (I’m very glad I don’t need it yet) and then we go visit the grave and childhood home of Annie Oakley – who’s been having a bit of a posthumous moment (like Mesannie Wilkins!) Pam makes me bacon, eggs and hashbrowns for breakfast more than once and Terry says he’ll get the harness and ponies sorted out before we hit the road. I’ve got the next two stops figured out and I’m feeling encouraged!

Monday morning I bring the ponies in and get them groomed and ready and Terry goes over every piece of the harness, checking and fine tuning. The biggest issue is the lines (the reins) that split at a buckle and cross between the ponies. The left line goes to the left side of each bit, the right rein to the right side. There are half a dozen holes for the buckle and I’m way off – in different directions on both lines. When the team pole was repaired it got 5″ longer, so that’s another adjustment to strike the proper balance between pulling and holding back (going down hill or stopping). Then Terry gets in the wagon and takes the lines, goes “around the block” and makes another adjustment, “around the block again” and a bit more fine tuning – finally he says “I don’t want to hold you up, Pam, you follow in the car and I’ll drive them the first while down the road.” Which is what we do.

Pam and Terry’s granddaughter Lexie hops in the backseat of the old sedan and we chat while we follow the wagon. She’s just graduated from HS and has dreams of making her living as a horse trainer. Her HS had an ag/tech program and she chose animal science and vet tech classes – 2 hours and 45 minutes a day on top of her academics. Turns out she knows a lot about body work and offers to show me some stretches that might help Franklin (who hasn’t been fully comfortable in his body since the crash leaving the zoo) and now I’ve got the next three stops planned because tonight I’m going to meet Lexie at the house where her dad and granddad live and she’s going to teach me what she knows.

When I get in the wagon again after 4 miles it’s like I have a brand new team. Some of the issues were behavioural. I’m going to have to really stay on Theodore to make him pull his share of the load. He’s been lazy and that’s making everything harder on Franklin and throwing the balance off. Terry shows me how to use the buggy whip on Franklin’s left side to keep him straight without scaring him or asking for more speed. The ponies are lighter on the lines and pulling together instead of apart. Whew! The driveway to Lexie’s family’s farm is long and we’re greeted by 3 horses, a pony and a puppy. I’m welcomed by Roger and Kevin, the ponies are put in a paddock with water and hay, Thick isn’t at all sure how he feels about the puppy and Lexie will be along after her senior photos are done.

Every place we stay seems to have upsides and downsides. The downside here is that the ponies will spend the night on cement. The upside is that I’ll leave with more tools in my skill set to keep the ponies comfortable and happy. Another upside is that, for the first time, I get to do interviews with three generations of the same family! The funny thing is that the farm is in Darke County and the sun was setting and all three videos came out very – Darke! Here’s Lexie! (and if you want to see her Dad and Grandpa – look for the links under her video)