Three Strikes…

Not long after he received his driver’s license my Dad had a fender bender while driving his dad’s car.  Then another.  After the third such accident, his father was debriefing him and said “Three Strikes and you’re Out.”  My Dad’s heart sank, thinking he was about to be banned from driving (and probably feeling like that was perhaps understandable under the circumstances) when his dad smiled and said “Out of Trouble.  Lesson learned.”
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I am sitting in a tin roof shack, listening to the rain falling, being very glad for a roof today and hoping that the same theory applies to me (and Luna Jack).  I hadn’t planned to “winter over”, choosing instead to take the Southernmost route that made sense (while staying North of swamps and gators) and ride on through as I did last winter.  Well, I haven’t done much “riding on” during the past 8 weeks.  First, there was Luna Jack’s sprained ankle, which coincided nicely with the holiday season.  Then there were 6 days of riding, ended by my fall (which could have been much worse) and recovery (back to “normal” thank you!).  Then, a day and a half of really lovely riding, in perfect weather, through beautiful rolling piney hills.  This part of East Texas is beautiful, easy riding on good footing (white sand and red clay predominate) and the graze in the bar ditches is plentiful for this time of year.  I’m seeing Magnolia trees in bloom and Narcissus and have been told that the bluebonnets will be up soon (early! usually they’re in full bloom around Easter.)
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Last friday in the early afternoon I was riding along, singing to the ponies, happy in the sunshine, when Luna started fidgeting a bit.  I didn’t catch it quickly enough, but her pack was starting to slip sideways.  Suddenly she took off up the road.  I dropped the rope (no real choice at that point) and concentrated on keeping the other two ponies under control.  I gathered up the gear she’d strewn as she went, brought Jesse James and Finehorn up to the point where I’d last seen evidence of her – two saddle pads escaped from under the McClellan – but she’d totally disappeared.  I called 911, thinking that if she were on the road somewhere she was a danger to herself and others.  The woman on the other end of the line said she’d have animal control call me back.  I was at a “4-Corners” intersection, so at least it was easy to report my location.  Several men in trucks offered to drive the 3 possible directions of disappearance while I started looking for tracks.  Obviously my tracking skills aren’t up to par.
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An older black gentleman stopped, said that he’d seen me earlier, had in fact passed me twice, that this was his property and kindly offered me the use of his “camp” there on the corner and gave me an idea of the lay of the land to aid me in my search.  I brought Jesse and Finehorn in away from the road and onto the grass, and realized that it had been 40 minutes since I’d called 911.  My brother-in-law found the number for the Polk County Sheriff’s Department and I called them. They had an officer en route.  I kept looking.  Finehorn and Mr. James seemed utterly unconcerned with their missing herd-mate.  The sheriff showed up after an hour or so, a horsewoman herself, she was calm and helped me look, but informed me that there really weren’t resources for this sort of thing.  No trackers, the only dogs were prison dogs (not trained for this sort of thing) and since it wasn’t Some-Body (but only a horse) a Search and Rescue operation was out of the question.  She did run me up to the store for a couple of gallons of water (this is a dry camp with no electricity – tho it does have an outhouse!) and gave me her ‘phone number before she had to go back to her life.
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The brain storm that found Luna Jack was that the other two will call for one another insistantly and loudly when separated.  I left Finehorn tied in camp and led Jesse James down in the direction that seemed most likely.  Sure enough, the whinneying started and soon enough I heard a third voice: the missing baby.  She was on the inside of the fence down close to where she’d originally bolted (the last time she’d seen the rest of us) and so Very glad to see us.  Leading her back, she touched my back or shoulder with her nose every three strides or so, very contrite and in need of reassurance.  Unfortunately, she’d lost one of the two big pack bags somewhere in the woods.  It contained all of the clothes I wasn’t wearing, my Thermarest mattress and my new DeLorme maps for Louisiana and Mississippi.  By this point it was getting dark and I got the ponies settled as best I could for the night and moved into the shack.  The sheriff returned (bless her 1000 times for this!) with her two little girls, two bales of hay, a bucket of feed and two 15 gallon jugs of water for the ponies.  So far above and beyond the call of duty!
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I spent the weekend looking for the missing bag (big and bright yellow – how hard can this be to find?) in dense pine forests, creeping pricker vines, ATV roads the hunters use and wee trails laid out by the deer.  One morning I was woken by a hunter who asked “do you live here?”  (Really!?)  and when I heard the shots of pig hunters in the woods I decided to suspend the search until they’d finished.  Monday morning I searched again, in the rain, and then I moved on to plan B.  I called Cascade Designs/MSR out in Seattle.  This is the company that makes all of my dry bags, Thermarest, my tent, my fuel canister – honestly, most of my gear.  The young man who answered the ‘phone was super helpful and efficient and replacement gear (functional seconds, at an Amazingly reduced price) should be here today.  Huge thanks to Cascade – and truly brilliant customer service!
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Then I called DeLorme about the missing maps.  A bit more of a process, but the man on the ‘phone actually undertook to write the request e-mail for me (since my laptop was out of juice) and the Atlas and Gazetteers for Louisiana and Mississippi should be arriving (gratis) here today as well.  My finances at the moment are not such that I even Could have paid full price to replace all that was lost – so grateful for the assistance.  Which has also manifested locally as the loggers driving their big trucks up and down the road have adopted me and made sure I’m ok and have what I need for the time that I’m here.  A man stopped yesterday afternoon saying that he’d done a lot of travelling and people have always helped him out and now he’s in a position to do the same – what do I need?  Turns out his wife and grandmother are both seamstresses – so he took the shredded Wizard’s Cloak (manty) with him to see what they can do – saving me over 12 feet of hand sewing!  (I was also offered $300 for Mr.James by a local gentleman, but I declined… )
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Tomorrow, assuming UPS and the USPS do their jobs today, I will ride on towards Colmesneil, TX – 23 miles from here – where I’ll visit the Post Office and hopefully find a few boxes with some “replacement” clothing.  4-5 days ride from there will bring me to the Louisiana border.  I’m really hoping that my unplanned winter lay-up is at an end.  The ponies and I are well rested.  It’s been in the 70s this week and really doesn’t feel like winter.  The last two lay-ups have been “pony heaven” – this one has been boring and not to their liking at all.  They’re not out in lovely pasture, but tethered to trees.  Water is scarce and requires a ride down the road to a shrinking puddle or a difficult-to-access creek.  They’ve had plenty of hay and they’re not suffering but it’s not quite the vacation they’ve come to expect when we stop.  Perhaps they’ll draw a lesson from that in terms of steady behaviour?  (Who can truly fathom the mind of a horse?)P1030926
One thing I have been thinking about is that Luna Jack still doesn’t feel herself quite a part of the herd.  The other two (witness their lack of calling when she was lost) haven’t taken her in and accepted her.  I’ve realized that I have no clue how to rectify that situation (team building exercises for equines?) but what I can do is work to strengthen Luna’s bond to me so that at the very least she thinks of me as her “security blanket”.  The first month of the Journey when Finehorn was learning to be a pack pony we had several instances like this, but she emphatically did not want to get out of sight of the herd, which was really helpful.  Life is a learning curve and Long Rides no exception – it doesn’t help to kick myself (or the ponies) for not having everything working perfectly smoothly 16 months into the Journey.  Time to pick up the pieces, saddle up and ride on.
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Kudos for a Life Well Lived

My own recent difficulties were suddenly snapped into perspective when I received an e-mail from Basha O’Reilly of the Long Riders’ Guild.  British Long Rider Christy Henchie was hit and killed by a bus in Tanzania last Monday and her fiancee’, Billy Brenchley of South Africa, was seriously injured.  At least two of the villagers who had been walking down the road with them were killed and many more were injured, including many children.  My heart goes out to Billy and to Christy’s family and to the friends and families of the Tanzanians involved in this tragedy.  I can’t even begin to imagine the size and shape of the hole that was suddenly torn through their lives.  I never met Christy, but I’ve read about her Journey and I know she was a Long Rider with a passion much like my own.  And in the midst of this tragedy I can’t help but think, “Well done!  We all have to die of something at some time, but You Truly Lived Your Life.”

To read more about this truly inspiring woman, please go to: http://horsetalk.co.nz/2013/01/31/horror-smash-tanzania-claims-life-long-rider/#.UQoTovIpk90

In the words of Albert Einstein, “The most important decision we make is whether we believe we live in a friendly or hostile universe.”  Christy took the first choice and her life, and the lives of countless others, was richer for that.  Thank You Christy, and Billy, I am sorrier than I can say – may you hold fast to the good bits of which there are many.

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Words of Wisdom from Jashton (my nephew)

“Math’s important because without math in life,
what could we count on when it doesn’t add up?”

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What do you do for Entertainment?

I was facing a class of Freshman English students at the High School in Memphis, TX when I was asked that question.  I knew what she was getting at and replied that I had a book along to read, or I wrote in my Journal or posted a blog entry, but I wasn’t satisfied with my own answer.  Another student asked how I’d managed to find time to do so many things in my life.  My reply to that one silenced the class:  “I don’t watch TV.  I don’t spend much time surfing the net, I don’t text, I don’t play video games… ”  They looked at me in disbelief.  Every single one of those students was given an iPad for the school year and they seem to spend quite a bit of time studying “technology”.  These kids are actively and officially encouraged to be plugged in – “connected”.  Talking to a bunch of high school kids was what I was doing for entertainment that day.  (very entertaining, actually!)

Last January, when Gryph and I emerged from the Los Padres National Forest after two weeks with no cell ‘phone coverage (never mind internet) a friend asked me to write about what it was like to “unplug” so drastically.  I’ve been mulling on that question ever since, watching myself with (and without) varying levels of “connection” – and those levels have varied Widely!  Full disclosure: there have been times in my life when I’ve spent most of my waking hours in the company of my computer.  I’ve been hooked into video games, on-line activism, web “research” and, at the Dublin auction barn, a bout of youtube.  The computer is a great place to hide during hurricane season, emotional anguish or writer’s block.  I’m on line right now, writing a blog post, checking my e-mail, looking up random curiosities and playing Freecell (which I have tried and failed to purge from my laptop!)  Writing a blog post takes a really long time under those conditions.

I feel like I’m a different person when I’m spending a lot of time on line versus when I’m only able to be on line briefly and infrequently.  The computer is a really useful tool.  I’ve also come to believe that, for me, it’s a highly addictive, mind and personality altering drug.  When I’m spending a lot of time with my computer I’m less patient with people, my attention span is shorter in general and I’d rather be inside than out.  Even when I’m having a conversation with somebody I really like, part of my attention is on getting back to the box.  I like the control of being able to “click” and change things whenever my mind wanders, the thrill of mental multi-tasking, how quickly I can follow the whims of my brain.  But in terms of my life, the Journey, the needs of the herd and interacting with the people in my immediate environment?  I’m much Less connected.  And my body hurts a lot more, especially my low back and my neck and shoulders.

Two years ago today I moved out.  Yes, on purpose.  Live the Question.  For the past two years I haven’t had a home to call my own and I’ve spent the majority of my time outside in close communion with the elements, feeling the weather on my skin, watching the seasons change, paying attention to what’s growing out of the ground and what’s not.  For two years I’ve lived the way the vast majority of people have lived on this planet up until the past hundred years or less (many people in other parts of the world still live this way) and despite the occasional mishap or minor discomfort I am healthier, happier and (scary to say) saner than I’ve ever been.  Several times during this Journey I’ve had to stop and wait while a horse or human heals – this is one of those times.  On many levels it’s been lovely, but I’ve watched myself get sucked back into “the box”.  I notice the return of the restlessness; I look up the word “malaise” on the online dictionary and read: noun 1) a condition of general bodily weakness or discomfort, often marking the onset of a disease.  2) a vague or unfocused feeling of mental uneasiness, lethargy, or discomfort.  I’m not sleeping as well and fear is creeping back in around the edges; a lack of faith, a dread of “discomfort” and “inconvenience”, moments when I doubt my ability or desire to finish the Journey.

Thursday morning it’s time to saddle, pack and ride.  I’ll say good-bye to the first kitchen I’ve had to call my own since Ireland.  Ice Cream will return to the realm of luxuries along with plentiful hot water and knowing where I’m going to sleep each night.  If it rains I’ll get wet.  If it’s cold I’ll bundle up and if it stays as warm as it’s been this week I’ll need to find a pair of heavy duty clippers to try and give Finehorn a little relief.  Norwegian Fjords don’t dress for 70*F days in late January and with the added humidity she’s often still wet in the morning after sweating the day before!  Thursday morning I will return to what I do for a life these days – I’m looking forward to rejoining the herd and hitting the trail.  I will re-member a life that is full and rich and plenty entertaining enough without seeking outside distractions.  Sometimes I feel like I am the entertainment. 😉 90 miles to Louisiana!

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Visits

Yesterday I went out to visit the ponies where they are waiting for me in a very nice pasture and wondering why I have abandoned them.  Since 14.December, back up in Hamilton, TX (when we didn’t ride out due to Luna Jack’s sprained ankle) we’ve only actually ridden down the road 6 days and during much of the rest of that time the ponies and I have been separated by enough distance that it required a vehicle to visit them.  The herd is not happy with me.  Jesse James at least started to come over to say hello when I came through the gate but when he saw the halter and lead rope in my hand he turned tail and started to walk away.  I grabbed his tail (one of his favorite things – he leans into it and stretches) and he stopped for that, and then allowed me to come and say hello to the other end of him.
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Finehorn (usually transported to bliss by a belly rub) suffered my attentions like a statue.
She’s shedding like crazy and I know the scratching had to feel good but there was no love from the usually demonstrative pony and Luna Jack wouldn’t even let me get close to her.  This was a problem because I’d brought the old 1904 McClellan cavalry saddle out with me in order to see if it fit Luna any better than the sawbuck we’ve been using.  I really needed her to cooperate.  For a solid twenty minutes we went round and round the pasture, a game of chase and evade, the ponies showing off and beautiful and obviously feeling really good after their long rest.  I was walking, not running, but my body handled the uneven ground of the pasture well and left me a lot more confident that I’m mending and ready to hit the trail again soon.  Mr. James and Finehorn tired of the game first and turned to face me, licking and chewing and paying attention.  Luna Jack, not so much.  At one point Jesse and Finehorn stood in the center of a circle as Luna trotted around and around them, watching me carefully but not ready to yield.  It was fun working with them again, the weather was glorious (winter in this part of Texas has a Lot of really lovely days I’m finding) and we had all broken a sweat by the time Luna decided to come in and join up.
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The old McClellan seems to fit Luna much better than the sawbuck did (thank you Gryph for mailing it back) and the current plan is to wait out a few days of predicted thunder and lightning storms and be ready to pack up and ride out on Thursday, the last day of January.  I sometimes wonder if we’d need less of these unplanned breaks if I’d put in a few planned rest stops, but at this point it is what it is and I’ve decided there’s no point in over-thinking things.  I’ve ordered the DeLorme Atlas and Gazetteers for Louisiana and Mississippi and am eagerly awaiting their arrival.  I’ve been enjoying the luxuries of a house, a kitchen, plenty of hot water, electricity and solitude. I’ve been catching up on some reading and correspondence.  I’ve been missing the herd and the rhythms of our days and starting to wonder what life will be like after the riding part of this Journey is complete and it’s time to write the book.  Suddenly 9 1/2 months just doesn’t seem so long.
P.S. – this is Free Range Rodeo blog post #101.  What a long strange trip it’s been…

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“Why?” – a new page w/ old photos

Summer in the Wilderness

Summer in the Wilderness

My favorite version of this question is “What inspired you?” because it’s the easiest one to answer.  I grew up reading the “Little House On The Prairie” books – I had the boxed set and read the entire series at least 7 times.  I then graduated to reading source materials: diaries of pioneer women, men on cattle drives, explorers and madams and settlers and people on wagon trains.  I would try to imagine myself into their lives but their world had vanished and there was no going back.  I did my best; growing up in East Texas my sister and I would dress up in the hoop skirts and sun bonnets Mom sewed for us and drove our pony, hitched to a wee Conestoga wagon, to church on Sundays.  I got to go on cattle drives working one summer on the Boot Ranch in Wyoming and I spent a winter in Nebraska as a goat herder, spending 12 hours a day sitting on a horse trying to keep 1000 Spanish Meat Goats out of the alfalfa and focussed on eating the weeds and cedars they’d been hired to clear from the cow pastures.

Reading is Good

Reading is Good

Then, summer of 2011, I read a book by Mesannie Wilkins, “The Last of the Saddle Tramps” (I know, book titles are supposed to be underlined, but wordpress ‘pages’ don’t allow that, sorry) and it got me thinking in a whole new way.  Mesannie Wilkins was 63 years old in 1954, she had no family, her farm was being repossessed and her doctor said she had a year or two to live, if she lived quietly (I can imagine her thinking “Live Quietly, Where!?”) and she’d lived her whole life in Minot, Maine.  Her mom had always wanted to go to California but never made it.  Mesannie had nothing to lose so she put in one last crop of cucumbers, got a contract with the pickle company, did all the work herself and in the fall bought herself a grumpy summer camp horse named Tarzan for $5.  Tarzan wasn’t pretty but he was tough.  On 8.November, 1954 Mesannie loaded all her gear on her horse, called her dog and, with $32 in her pocket, headed out for California.  She met a bunch of wonderful people, saw some beautiful country, had a few hair-raising adventures and two years later arrived in California.  She appeared on the Art Linkletter show (he’d given her a beautiful white horse as an enticement) and was having so much fun that she turned around and rode to Texas.  She lived another 20 years (shows what doctors know!).
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That was 60 years ago.  Sixty years before that, horses were the most common form of transportation in this country.  The world had changed a Lot between the late 1800s and the mid 1900s.  I was fascinated and encouraged reading about Mesannie’s experiences and gradually my own dream of crossing the USA on horseback was rekindled.  Much has changed between 1954 and 2012 and I started to wonder what it would be like to ride through today’s world, coast to coast, on horseback.  Was it even possible?  If I’m honest, I really didn’t think I’d get away with it.  I expected sometime in the first month to run into the law enforcement person whose job it would be to tell me to cease and desist with such retro-madness.  I expected to be harassed by animal rights activists, run off by shot-gun wielding ranchers and envisioned myself riding through the night looking for a place where we could stop.  It’s amazing what a scary place the inside of a brain can be!

Ponies are Opportunivores

Ponies are Opportunivores

Since 1954 the population of the USA has doubled and the majority have moved from rural to urban living.  I’ve been amazed by the number of kids I’ve met (and remember that I’m Not riding through cities or even very large towns!) who have never touched a horse.  I carry a cell ‘phone and a laptop computer and I have a groovy little solar panel (Nomad – Goal Zero) that hangs from my saddle on the sunny side and charges my ‘phone in an hour while I ride!  The parts of the country that I’ve been riding through have been suffering the worst drought since the dust bowl and economic times are none too good for an awful lot of people I’ve met and still, I have been welcomed and taken in and assisted on my Journey by person after wonderful person – just like Mesannie.

Cup o'Tea? (He lapped up the whole thing!)

Cup o’Tea? (He lapped up the whole thing!)

The decision to embark upon such an epic adventure isn’t a simple one and “Why?” is a complex question for all it has a single word.  Why did I suddenly return to working full time with horses (as a trail guide this time) after 18 years away?  Who could have predicted my connection with Jesse James, my funny little orange horse, who had such a reputation as a psycho when I met him that he hadn’t really been ridden in a year and a half?  I’d made an attempt at an East->West ride back in the late 1990’s but I just didn’t have the right horses for the Journey.  Sometimes I think this trip is as much Jesse’s idea as mine.
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Then there was the reality of being in expensive Northern California with a horse but no car, with a seasonal job ending and my living situation ending as well.  The $2400 I’d managed to save over a whole summer of long hours at $10/hr wasn’t enough to buy, register and insure a vehicle – much less drive it anywhere.  It certainly didn’t seem like enough to get someplace and start a life all over again and with a raw and broken heart I didn’t really want to.  There were times when my panic attacks has me convinced that this whole scheme was just a thinly veiled version of suicide – but it also felt true that  only something completely insane and all-consuming; an undertaking that was going to take everything I had and stretch it to the limits had a chance of saving me.  I’d dreamed of this my whole life – put up or shut up time!
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When the riding part of the Journey is complete and I’ve paid my respects to Mesannie Wilkins in Minot, Maine on 8.November I plan to stop for a while and write a book.  That’s another part of the “Why?”  I want to share some of what I’m learning on this Journey, including how wonderful “we the people” are – despite what they show (over and over and over again) on the TV “news” programming.  Mesannie’s book was so inspiring to me, reminding me what can happen when we have the courage and the faith to Do what we Dream – to listen to our own souls and get past the fears and excuses and live the unique and specific lives that are our birthright.  What a privilege – what a Blessing.  What Fun!
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Polocrosse and a Progress Report

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Two weeks ago today I fell off my pony.  This morning I woke up in the 7th place I’ve stayed since then.  Healing takes time.  The hardest parts of this trip have been the times when we’re not making forward progress.  It’s quite a jolt to go from being a brave soul off on a grand adventure, “the current world expert on riding horseback down the length of California and crossing the USA via the Southern route during the drought” (hah – now you know the grandiose thoughts that wander through my brain as I ride along the side of the road ;-)) to suddenly being an indigent homeless person with three ponies in need of a place to be while either they or I recover enough to be able to move on.
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It’s one thing to ride up to somebody’s house and ask for a place to stop for the night with everybody knowing that we’ll be moving on in the morning; its a totally different thing to ask for a place to stop when I can barely walk, much less carry a bale of hay out to the herd.  It’s humbling (and scary!) to need to be taken care of by strangers, to trust somebody else to take care of my ponies, to be reminded that as much as I try to be I am not self-sufficient and cannot even procure food without assistance, to suddenly and unexpectedly need a lot of help from a lot of people, to be reminded that plans are as nothing in the face of Reality.

This horse stumbled but did Not go down.

This horse stumbled but did Not go down.

Healing takes time and progresses on its own schedule.  In the aftermath of a concussion I still have a chronic low-grade head ache and when I’m typing I find myself looking at a homonym of the word I meant (road v rode for example) or the letters come out in the wrong order.  My low back and hips are doing much better so long as I keep my body in a straight line and move slowly -> when I’m lying down with a pillow under my knees it’s easy to convince myself that I’m fine.  I can now lift and carry even my heaviest pack bags, pick things up off the ground and go grocery shopping.  I can wear my jeans and boots and ride in the front seat with a seat belt.  It’s no longer a strain to have a conversation.  I woke up this morning, alone in a lovely cabin, knowing I can be here for a week and feeling quite confident that by that time I’ll be ready to catch my ponies, tack and pack them all by myself and ride down the road awhile before I stop for the night.  I’m looking forward to life getting back to what, for me, has become “normal” (and generally a lot of fun!)
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But enough about the convalescence!  I spent the weekend at my first ever Polocrosse Tournament and I’m so glad I was invited!  The 63 players ranged from some of the top players in the USA (ie – representing the USA in international championship tournaments) to tiny kids playing their first game ever with a parental unit holding the lead-line and everything in between.  It was brilliant!
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Polocrosse is a totally new sport for me so I’ll assume that might be true for some of you as well and lay out a few of the basics as I understand them – and please feel free to correct me if I get anything wrong!  There are 6 people per team and three from each team play for 8 minutes (a chukka) then they get to rest while the other three play a chukka (4 chukkas total).  Each player must use the same horse for the entire tournament (tho since this wasn’t an official “tournament” per se people tended to change horses over the course of the weekend, using it as an opportunity to train a green horse or try out a new horse or school one of the kids’ ponies that was misbehaving.  The racket has a net in a hoop at the end (like Lacrosse) and seems really short and light compared to a polo mallet.  The idea is to get the ball through the goal posts at the end of the field, but there are some restrictions so the person on the fastest horse can’t just grab and dash.  The shirts are numbered 1-2-3 and only the person with the #1 shirt can make a goal (from within the 30 yard scoring area at each end) and the person with the #3 shirt from the opposing team is the only person allowed in that area to try and prevent the goal.  Carrying the ball across the 30 yard line isn’t allowed – so it must be bounced across the line (or passed by another team member) which makes it a lot easier to steal the ball at the crucial moment.
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Polocrosse got started in Australia and there seems to be quite a bit of international travel to tournaments with the amazing (to me) facet that players don’t tend to travel with their own horses (crazy expensive to ship a horse to Australia) but instead borrow horses from their hosts.  The best part of the weekend for me was seeing all the kids participating on an amazing assortment of ponies (some of them as old as 30!) at a wide variety of skill levels and so intent on the game.  So much of the competitive horse world seems to be limited to people with lots of money.  I wasn’t able to show when I was growing up because I couldn’t afford the outfit!  Polocrosse seems incredibly inclusive and I love it for that.  It’s also one of the few sports that I’m aware of in which men and women compete on equal terms.
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Meanwhile, back in tech-world, you may have noticed the word “Route” at the top of the blog.  This is a new page laying out my most current thoughts about how I’m getting from here (wherever here is on any given day) to Minot, Maine.  On the facebook page you’ll see a “find us” button that I’ll do my best to keep updated with (wherever here is on any given day).  I’m very open to suggestions, invitations and pragmatic helpfulnesses regarding my proposed route.
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On facebook, my dear friend Pia tested the process and it’s totally possible to include a photo in a comment on the Free Range Rodeo facebook page – so please, please, please – if you have any photos of the Free Range Rodeo that haven’t made it onto the blog, feel free to post those on the facebook page!  I’m still trying to find the balance between blog and facebook.  Very honestly, the big idea of starting a facebook page isn’t my burning desire to spend more time on the computer, it’s that I’ve been told by people who should know that establishing an “on-line presence” will help when it comes time to publish a book.  This is a numbers game so I admit I’m working on ways to get you to visit both the blog and the fb page regularly which will probably include putting photos up on fb that don’t make it to the blog – while maintaining my “daily updates” page primarily on the blog so that you actually have to go visit my blog in order to get that inside scoop.  (Not that I’m advocating that you spend more time surfing the net, but hey, if you’re there anyway…   and it sure beats TV!;-))  I’m much less clear on the rules of the fb game than the rules of polocrosse – but I’m pretty sure it’s helpful when people “like” and “share” things so please, it’s quick and free and easy and it makes me smile!  (OK – I’ll stop begging now.)
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life after the fall

I am happy to report that I am getting better every day!  I can now get about without the help of a cane and I look relatively normal going up and down the stairs.  My head still has a sore spot and I’m still having difficulties with anything involving twisting (like rolling over in bed!) but I am feeling optimistic about being ready to resume the ride early next week.  Thank you all for your prayers and encouragement, for sending healing energy and for letting me know that you care!  Here are photos from a week ago when I’d gotten out of the truck after over two hours and I couldn’t walk at all: office chair as “wheel” chair and the lovely Belle, my “nurse dog”.

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That was only a week ago!  The past 4 days I have spent back in Cedar Park, following the example of Sarah the Cat, curled up in a soft place, being quiet and allowing my body to heal as quickly as it can.  There are times when being ignored is the best gift of all.  Here is a glimpse of Sunday:
the sun is shining today
through clouds like vast boiling pewter
all the deer of Cedar Park
have fled the encroaching homogenous housing developments
to take refuge on the last 80 acres of the old ranch
somehow they don’t starve…
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Over the holidays I was contacted by a couple just starting out on a much longer ride than my own.  Their names are Anna and Gilles and they’re currently in Argentina, planning to circle the globe on horseback (with their dog) and raising money and awareness for Doctors without Borders/Medicine Sans Frontiers.  You can find their blog at: www.TheGreatHorseTrip.com  and read about the challenges of a long ride starting in South America.  My favorite story concerned their discovery that two of the mares they’d purchased turned out to be pregnant, delaying their trip by many months until the foals were safely delivered and weaned.  I’m really hoping to meet these folks when they do the US part of their Journey!

Another quick note is that I managed to figure out how to load video to the facebook page and put up two early clips of Gryph and Jesse and the silks.  It was the first time I’d attempted to shoot video and that’s really obvious but I thought you might like to see a bit of the beginning stages of the process.  I also had the idea that the facebook page would be a place where people could share photos they’ve taken of the Journey.  It’s a bit tricky to get photos into the blog that are taken with other people’s cameras and so I thought this might be a solution.  If anybody has such photos and would be willing to give that a try I’d be really appreciative – let’s see if this can work!

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Branching Out

OK – I did it.  I caved to peer pressure, drank the cool-aid, donned the uniform – I started a Free Range Rodeo Facebook page.  I’m a total neophyte and still sort of stumbling along, but since so many people have suggested that this is something that will be really really helpful I am feeling at least somewhat hopeful that it will prove to be a good thing.  Meanwhile, I am struggling with such basics as adding photographs…
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Speaking of photographs, I went back and added a bunch to the most recent post – so if this post is showing up in your e-mail, you might want to visit the blog and check out the new photos.
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I’ve wanted to have a way that people could share photos they’ve taken of the Free Range Rodeo along the way – and I’d love it if that could start happening on the FB page – if you do have fun photos of the Journey (no matter how far back) please post them!

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a little rain…

Into every life a little rain must fall…
And after 15 months on the trail (and over 20 months riding Jesse James) I’ve taken a fall.
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Gryph returned to California on the 2nd (a week ago) and I continued on with a herd of three.  The first half hour out was a bit of a mess as the ponies and I sorted out how this was gonig to work.  I had two lead ropes in my hand, a packed mare at the end of each one and none of us had a clear idea of where the lines (or the ponies) should be.  Adding to this, we were heading out a long gravel driveway and none of the ponies wanted to walk on the rocks.  Nobody fussed much and gradually we came to a working arrangement:  Sea on Jesse with the reins in her left hand and two leads in her right.  The shorter rope is attached to Finehorn (walking next to Mr. James) and the longer rope between them leading back to Luna Jack – who walks with her nose between their hips.  It’s compact and simple and Fast!  The big surprise with the new arrangement is that we’ve picked up the pace by at least 1/2 a mile per hour since Finehorn (who tends to dawdle) isn’t about to lose ground to Luna Jack and she marches right along, encouraging Jesse James to keep a brisk pace since he’s supposed to be the leader.  Brilliant!
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Day one the weather was cold and I had no leads on a place to stop for the night.  The best advice I’d gotten was to ride into the town of Blue which had one store, a “beer joint” as it was described to me, that had a hitching rail out front.  I was to ride up to the store, tie up to the hitching rail and ask about a place to stay.  That sounded suitably Texan for my tastes but as I rode into Blue a door opened and a young woman walked out, saw me, walked back in and closed the door, opened the door again and waved.  I waved back.  She disappeared.  Before I’d passed the house the door opened again, two people this time and I waved again and started across the lawn calling out “Hello!”  I was invited in for a cup of tea while the ponies grazed in the front yard.  A cup of tea led to a sandwich.  By this time I could feel my fingers and toes again and we were discussing pony accommodations.  I unpacked the ponies into the garage, tethered Jesse and Finehorn, left a rope on Luna (who hasn’t been trained to tether yet) and left her free to graze, reasoning that she wouldn’t stray far from the other two (especially since there was such good graze around the house).   The next time I looked out the window my ever curious baby was standing by the edge of the road – and three cars had stopped.  Oops!  My bad.  We procured a bale of hay from a helpful neighbor and Luna spent the night in a pen formerly inhabited by an Ostrich.
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The next day the ponies behaved admirably considering that we were riding through alternating rain and sleet.  brrrrrrr!  We were heading towards Lexington where we’d been offered accommodations by a couple who trains polo ponies and recently bought Herk’s Store.  Only a 10 mile day – but once again by the time I arrived at my destination I’d lost feeling in a few of my extremities, even though we’d made excellent time!  I’m starting to really appreciate how spoiled I’ve been with the lovely weather on most of the Journey thus far.  I was up late that night, enjoying getting to know my hosts, listening to new music, gorging myself on broccoli and waterproofing my new Duster.  (If Gryph was still along we’d match! ;-))  Breakfast at Herk’s at The Table of Information and then back to tack up the ponies for another short day’s ride to a pre-arranged destination.  En route I stopped at Herk’s again, for a truly transcendent cheeseburger on a fresh jalapeno bun – and learned that what I’d been told about Lexington, TX was true – EVERYBODY I passed on the road waved.  Every Single Person – amazing!
Herk'   Wendy, Stacey, Sea and ponies

By Sunday I was feeling fairly confident leading two pack ponies, the weather was glorious, we found perfect back roads and I wasn’t particularly concerned that I had no plan for a place to stop for the night.  We were riding beside pastures and post oaks and the graze in the bar ditches had plenty of green patches which delighted the ponies.  It was day 5 in a row for the ponies and somewhere in here we’d need to take a rest day but they still felt fresh from our 2 1/2 week break over the holidays and since heavy rains and flooding were predicted for Tuesday I wanted to make as much progress as possible before that broke.  In the afternoon a car passed me, then a few minutes later came back by – a woman leaned out “Are you lost?”  This was S, who invited me back to her place, warning me that she smoked cigarettes and drank beer and that her place didn’t smell very good since she’d had a fire on Christmas day when she’d poured gasoline in the fireplace thinking it was Diesel.  When she warned me that all her linens had been picked up to be dry-cleaned to get the fire smell out I assured her that I had my own bedroll.  It was a good night (and a great stew) except for her chihuahua, named Medicare, who took an instant dislike to me and didn’t stop barking at me the whole time – even the next morning when coffee was ready before 6am.
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That night led to arrangements for Monday night and I had general directions and T’s ‘phone number (who’d called ahead for me) and it was shaping up into another lovely day.  A sand road (the ponies were loving that) and good graze and even better weather.  We were making excellent time and I called T at 1:15pm saying we were on the home stretch.  He said that we were within a mile and 1/2 and offered to come out and lead us in but since that distance would still take us a half hour I declined.  The ponies saw some particularly lush grass along the road so I decided to let them stop for one last graze.  We were all relaxed, ponies grazing, Rhydr enjoying the scenery, no traffic on the road, nothing out of the ordinary when suddenly Luna Jack threw up her head and bolted past Jesse on his left.  Since her rope was in my right hand it caught him from behind and suddenly all three ponies were at a full gallop.  My reins had been at full length to let Mr. James graze – I was caught totally off guard and off balance and within 3 strides, down I went.  I landed hard on my right hip and hit the right side of my head – watching my herd running full tilt over the hill and across the road, gear flying off as they went.
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At first I didn’t even realize I was hurt.  I grabbed my cell ‘phone out of the pocket of my new (to me) duster and called T, telling him what had just happened and asking him to try and intercept from that end and then started after them, gathering gear off the road as I went.  A man stopped and asked if he could help.  He’d seen the ponies head down a dead end dirt road so at least they were off the highway.  We’d put a few bags into his vehicle when T arrived in his truck.  Transfer of gear and thank you and good-bye to the man who’d stopped to help.  We found Jesse and Finehorn together up the side road and caught them, unsaddling Finehorn since the saddle was more under her than on top of her by that point.  Luna Jack emerged from the woods behind us looking more than a little freaked out, the new Wizard’s cloak a bit the worse for wear but both of the main pack bags still aboard and intact.  I led Jesse and Finehorn up the road as she tentatively approached us and got the rest of the gear off of the ponies and into the truck with T’s help.  They were all a little wide-eyed and I was starting to realize that I was pretty banged up.
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Things get a little hazy in memory, but soon T was leading Luna up the road towards the pasture and I was following with Jesse and Finehorn, hanging onto Finehorn’s abundant mane to steady myself and breathing through the pain of each step.  Then I simply couldn’t walk any more.  I told T I needed to stop and leaned on Jesse’s whithers, trying to catch my breath but it was no good.  My body was done walking.  T called his mom to come with the truck and I lowered myself down to the grass on the side of the road.  The ponies grazed around me as we waited.  When the truck arrived I grabbed hold of Finehorn’s mane and she literally dragged me up to my feet and over to the truck.  Mighty Pony – every step slow and careful.  We were maybe 1/4 mile from the driveway at that point and T brought the ponies the rest of the way in and got them settled in the pasture.  I had to borrow a cane from my hostess to get out of the truck.
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It wasn’t a comfortable night, but T had brought me a walker so I could get myself to the loo and H, my hostess, was gracious and did her best to take care of me.  She wasn’t accustomed to letting strangers into her home (living alone at 83) so this was a stretch for her and I so much appreciated her hospitality.  The next day the rain had started in earnest by the time L&N arrived with a trailer to transport the ponies and me to their place in Montgomery.  By the time I got out of the truck 2 hours later I was pretty incompetent.  I barely got into the house with the help of L’s arm and a cane and they got me to a bed by putting me in an office chair and wheeling it through the house.  By this morning I was able to use the cane in a fairly conventional manner and even make it to the breakfast table under my own steam so I’m improving rapidly!  Thank you to everybody who is praying and sending healing energy my way.  This has been a pretty scary (and sore) few days.P1030811   P1030808

Years ago my mom’s cat got hit by a car but she lived through it – barely.  She dragged herself to a soft place in the laundry room and laid there for days, sleeping a lot and eating very little.  After awhile she started to move around again and soon she was back to her usual obnoxious self.  I’ve decided that what worked for Sarah cat will probably work for me as well.  Today I’m feeling all over stiff and sore and it’s obvious that my body just wants to rest.  The ponies are out grazing in the pouring rain (there’s a barn that they can go into but the Free Range Rodeo ponies are too tough for that!)
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I’ll try and write more soon – and get some photos up.  I’m incredibly grateful that the ponies and I are all in one piece.  I haven’t gone through all the gear yet, but nothing seems to be terribly damaged.  I’m grateful that this accident was just that, an accident.  There were no vehicles on the road and this was nobody’s fault.  I learned later that a man was hunting wild pigs a 1/2 mile up the road and Luna is terrified of pigs, so maybe that has something to do with why she spooked?  Maybe I’ll decide to dismount when we stop to graze in the future, but probably not.  I’m in awe of the way people have reached out to me at this difficult moment in the Journey – especially the Polocrosse crowd I was first introduced to back in Cedar Park and who have done so much to make the past week a good one – caring for the ponies and I like we’re part of their community.  Blessings on your all!
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