Jesus was a Transient

Posted on June 10, 2012 by Sea G Rhydr

You can tell a lot about a culture by what can’t be joked about.  And what can.  I remember my visceral shock when I was over in Ireland and was told that the Irish were taking credit for the World Trade Center coming down.  “How So?”  I asked?  Well, it seems that there were two Irish Carpenters up on the 95th floor, on the night of September 10th, trying to fit a door.  It was just a bit too tight and one of the workmen said to the other, “Aye Paddy, we’re goin’ to have to take a plane to that.”   (all of this in an actual Irish accent of course)  I was floored, wind knocked out of me – only gradually realizing that part of the joke is the American’s response to the joke.  I watched my dad have the same physical reaction to that joke a year later – he literally stepped back a pace.

“So where are you from?  Where’s Home?”    “Oh – we’re exploring the “om” in hOMeless.”  The very helpful, kind, friendly woman who had arranged a place for us to stay with her family and brought hay for the ponies suddenly stiffened, stood straight, crossed her arms looked at us a bit sternly.  “You’re homeless on purpose though?  This is a choice?”  Oops – not funny.  Change tracks – reassure her that we’re riding home to our families on the East Coast – throw in Caribbean home ownership for good measure (all true) – and everything is nice and friendly again.

Similarly, “Jesus was a Transcient”, tossed into a conversation with a Conservative God-Fearing Land Owning Man, didn’t go over very well.  He glared at me, “where do you get that idea?”  “The Bible?”  I replied.  At which point I was reminded that the Bible doesn’t tell us anything about Jesus’ adult life until his baptism at the age of 30.  That until then he probably lived a very conventional life, had a home and family and business (following Joseph into Carpentry) and was in no way a transient.  Well, that’s probably true of a lot of transients today as well.  It doesn’t change my mental image of Jesus and the disciples wandering around the countryside, sleeping wherever they found themselves of an evening, eating what they were offered or could find (handy trick – that with the loaves and fishes!)  The two views don’t necessarily contradict each other.  We all go through phases.

Recently I have been corresponding with another solo female long rider – which has been such an amazing boon I didn’t even know I was craving.  Though we haven’t met in person, suddenly I feel a part of a Grand Sorority of Lady Adventurers (of little means and noticable years ;-))!  However it seems that all the other long riders that she knows about have some sort of home base – and I don’t, in that way.  Which does tend to leave a huge scary psychic hole in the realm of “what will I do when the Journey is over?  where will I go with the ponies?”  And of course, where do I go if there’s a problem – like a pack pony who is taking weeks into months to heal.  Which is the situation I lately found myself in, and has raised the “homelessness” issue into prominence.  Because there are two very different fears that many of us have around this whole transience/homeless issue.  One is that something might happen and we’ll suddenly find ourselves homeless.  The other is that we might get saddled with a homeless person who has no place else to go and needs help.  From the first perspective, homelessness is a strange thing to choose “on purpose”.  From the second, homelessness is an irresponsible choice, because it creates a certain level of dependence on the kindness of strangers.

So I started thinking about that mythical home base/haven.  Because I do have the casita in Vieques – which doesn’t help at all in this situation.  I do have friends and family on the East Coast who would put me up for a spell, even with the ponies.  But none of that helps when I’m stuck in SE Arizona -> loading up and heading for our end point would pretty much negate the trip.  So in the current situation I wouldn’t be doing anything differently.  At least that assuages a bit of my guilt at not being totally self-sufficient.  And I am so ready to be back on the trail, riding across the country, sleeping wherever I happen to find myself of an evening – happily homeless and unencumbered.  I love this life!

 

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Out of the Frying Pan

Posted on June 9, 2012 by Sea G Rhydr

    

Yesterday the Free Range Rodeo escaped the heat of the Gila Valley and ascended to the Mogollon Rim where I am camped among pine trees and cool breezes. Yippeeeee!!!!   Blessings on B&C for their hospitality while I figured out how best to circumvent the Fire and for the trailer ride North and for the use of their cabin and stock pen as a staging ground for the next stage of the Journey.  Tomorrow the plan is to ride out from here to Black Canyon Lake and from there towards Heber, Show Low and Alpine, AZ – crossing into NM to Luna and then up to Quemado.

Last Wednesday night I had a wonderful treat – and I apologize for the lack of photos – I had no idea what was coming before I left the house and thus didn’t bring the camera.  I was picked up by Miz H in her Jeep so that we could hang out a bit before I headed out of the area.  After a few stops for provisions, we were still uninspired in terms of what to do with ourselves.  We’d both heard about the Indian Hot Springs just north of Eden (it used to be owned by the Rolling Stones – had a big white hotel that burned down) but we had also heard rumors of a crazy naked gun wielding caretaker and we assumed the gate was locked – we decided to swing by and check.  About half way there we reminded one another that the hot springs shared a fence with the back of Cowboy Jack’s property.  We got brave enough to make the call and the response was positive.

We swung by Cowboy Jack’s, he hopped in the driver’s seat and we set off down a long rocky road in the dark past Chaparral and Cactus.  Seemingly in the middle of nowhere Gentleman Jack stopped the Jeep and got out.  He led the way, held the barbed wire fence so we could climb through and “Sweeeet!”  A graceful rock and cement pool awaited; a curvy oasis full of hot water nestled into the trees.  I guess there’s also an Olympic sized pool of hot water somewhere else on the property, but this was perfect and suited the occasion.  The moon was two nights past full and everything was peaceful and quiet.  It was a perfect send-off celebration after two months in the Valley.  (…and a good time was had by all!)

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Heading North!

Posted on June 3, 2012 by Sea G Rhydr

Just a brief update – A new plan is in place.  Friday 8.June the ponies are going in a trailer (again!) and we’re heading up to Forest Lakes, up at 8800′ altitude on the Mogollon Rim.  We’ll head east into New Mexico from there, hopefully staying above the area of the fire.  The Gila Wilderness forest fire (Whitewater-Baldy) is up to 241,701 acres and although it is now considered 18% contained we certainly can’t go through there, it’s past time to be moving on and the northern route is looking much more reasonable.  It will take us through an area that burned last year – and thus has excellent graze this year (and significantly less chance of burning again).  One important thing I’ve learned, looking at forest fire projections for this summer, is that we’re going to be much safer once we cross over the Continental Divide.  I’m still working out how exactly we’re going to get there from here – but at least I know where we need to be.

Finehorn’s withers hole is almost completely closed.  She still needs to grow some skin and hair and her pack weight will remain at 100# or so for quite some time but I’m feeling really good about her healing process and am confident that we can travel.  Both due to the extended lay-up and the need for re-conditioning And the sudden increase in altitude (we’re going up over 6000′) we’ll be starting slowly, probably 7-10 mile days at first, but the area we’re heading into is absolutely gorgeous and finding water will be less of a problem than it has been since we were riding along Sespe Creek.  I’m excited about the camping and very ready to be on the trail again.

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working on route planning

Posted on May 30, 2012 by Sea G Rhydr

Fear, like pain, can be a warning.  It can also be seriously distracting.  The Whitewater-Baldy Wildfire (in the Gila Wilderness) continues to grow.  Thus far 17o, 272 acres – the largest fire in NM history.  “For the most part the fire has been actively burning in all directions.”  and “0% contained” are the sorts of things I’ve read on line today.  Meanwhile, I’ve been making very little forward progress over the past two months and am eager to be on the trail again.  Several routes are under consideration, all of which involve a certain amount of trailering and risk.

Apart from the fire, here are some of the things I’m taking into consideration:
1) Conditioning – apart from Finehorn’s holy withers, which are healing nicely and I believe are in good enough shape to pack (with the cut-out pad and lighter pack weight) – two months of sitting around means that none of us are in shape to do long, strenuous days.  If we head north, up onto the Mogollon Rim, we’ll have altitude to contend with as well.
2) It’s Wildfire season – just because something isn’t on fire now doesn’t mean it won’t be tomorrow – this is true for much of the West (all summer!)  Two summers ago I was in Boulder, CO in August and there were two major fires close enough to where I was camping that evacutations were in effect within 1/2 mile of my tent.  I came very close to riding into this fire without even knowing it was going on (the smoke is mostly blowing Westward) and many of the places I’ll be heading don’t have internet access – in some of the areas my cell ‘phone won’t work either.
3) Monsoon season is coming – daily afternoon rains is the norm, which helps with the fires, but also increases the risk of flash floods – and the rivers will be higher, faster and more difficult to navigate in general.
4) Lighter pack weight means that I can’t carry food for the ponies – they’ll have to find forage on which to graze along the way if we’re in the wilderness – the other option is to stay close to “civilization” so that I can find hay and feed for them at ranches, etc.  It also limits how much food I can carry for myself – so I need to have a clear idea about how long it will take to get through the wilderness sections.
5) Minor other factors (like quicksand and rattlesnakes) for instance – I do not know this terrain well and there are hazards beyond heat and floods and fire that I might not even know I need to be wary of until I’m in a mess!
6) and yes – I am riding alone at this point.

All of that said – the current route that seems most likely right now is to ride the San Francisco River from Clifton, AZ to Glenwood, NM.  Then I’ll check in with the forest rangers there and determine the next leg of the Journey (if they’re not all too busy with the fire!)  heading up towards Reserve and probably Quemado.

The historic “ghost town” of Mogollon still stands as of this post -> it’s under mandatory evacutation and last I heard 11 of the town’s 17 residents evacuated and 6 elected to stay.  There are smoke/air quality warnings locally and as far away as Albuquerque.  There are currently 1236 people fighting this fire, including 12 helicopters – the terrain difficulty is rated extreme and the growth potential is rated high.  It’s interesting because the internet is a relatively new tool, historically, but one of my fears is being cut off from this source of information.  Wildfires can spring up suddenly and move faster than ponies can run.

So that’s the update – the plan is to put the ponies in a trailer on Sunday afternoon and head to wherever the chosen drop-off point is at that time.  Which is another thing I’m having to get over.  Accepting that A) I am not a purist. and B) sometimes the sensible thing to do for health and safety is to put the ponies in a trailer.  The easiest way out of where we are right now includes a 20 mile stretch between water holes and that seems like entirely too long a day in our current condition (and in this heat) – so if we’re getting into the trailer anyway the only real question remains: where are we getting out of it?  I’ll do my best to keep you posted.

PS – it’s been brought to my attention that I didn’t make clear that yes, I wrote “my life as a fictional character” – and that the panic moment of not knowing where I was, was real!

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where i’m going is on fire…

Posted on May 27, 2012 by Sea G Rhydr


I rode out as planned on Thursday morning, a bit later than would have been ideal – but we did it.  Finehorn’s pack weight is down to 102#, they both wore their Renegade Hoof Boots in front and I’d sorted a workable method for slinging the human food dry bags on the back of the English Saddle so that they rode just behind my legs.  It took about 45 minutes for the ponies and I to settle into a groove; Finehorn kept changing sides and Jesse was flicking at flies with his tail – he tends to Rodeo when the rope gets under his tail – so I had my hands full for a bit and then suddenly there we were, riding down the road in the sunshine, feeling like “Yes, this is what we do.”  We arrived at our destination by noon, having covered 10 miles (averaging 3mph) none the worse for wear. The cut-out pad over Finehorn’s withers worked well and the ponies were turned out in a pen with a young steer and a nice bale of oat hay.
        
That afternoon my host and I went to return a stock trailer and then went to the Fort Thomas bar’n’grill for a burger.  Suddenly a board of delicious cheeses was being passed along the bar, courtesy of a couple who had just returned from South Woodstock, VT where they’d been visiting their son who works with the Farmstead Creamery.  We got talking; turns out they’d done a bunch of packing with mules and on the spur of the moment it was decided that I was going with them up to their mountain cabin in Forest Lakes for the weekend.  (Which is where I am writing this now.)  Friday morning the ponies and I were trailered over to their Dairy, bags unloaded, ponies turned out into a lovely large paddock where they’d be cared for in my absense – and suddenly I realized that my custom Vagabond travel guitar (Swallow) was not with my gear.  Frantic, I called my host of the night before; it wasn’t in the truck or along the dirt road into his place.  I called Steripen, since my water purifyer rode in the guitar case, and they offered to send a replacement ASAP (and were incredibly patient and sympathetic about the guitar.)  I helped load the truck and we headed up to the cabin.  Not too far along I spotted the guitar case by the side of the highway.  I ran back to get it and my brief flash of hope evaporated.  Swallow was shattered.  The Steripen Adventurer had survived, so I called Steripen and let them know I was ok on that front at least.
  

Miles and hours and saguero in bloom (wow! – never seen that before!) and 6000′ of altitude later we arrived at the cabin.  It’s not hot up here at 8800′.  It’s beautiful and there are pine trees.  The company is congenial and to say that there’s plenty to eat and drink would be a gross understatement.  There are kids and dogs to play with and my internet works!  Which is how I’ve been tracking the latest development.

The Gila Wilderness is on Fire!  122,000 acres already gone and it’s still not under control.  The estimate is that the fire will eventually claim 360,000 acres.  The historic ghost town of Mogollon is under mandatory evacuation.  This is pretty much exactly the area I had planned on riding through for the next several weeks.  The predicted direction of spread is N/NW – which is the area between me and Colorado and cooler, grassier climes.  Which brings us to the next factor -> recently burned areas generally offer very little in the way of graze for ponies.  I had been planning to ride up the Black Hills Back Country Byway and then over into NM, riding out probably this coming Wednesday.  At this point I’m keeping a very keen eye on the fire and its progress – and to say I’m a little freaked out would be a gross understatement.  I’ll keep you posted.

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my life as a fictional character

Posted on May 23, 2012 by Sea G Rhydr

21.May – hours after dark

There is a story about a woman who was traveling
or so it is assumed
and one night as she lay quietly in the darkness
waiting for sleep to claim her
she realized with a fright
that she could not locate herself in place.

Starting from the unsolved mystery of
bed
then room
her heart groped outward searching
for a sense of the landscape around her
a town or mountain range
– even the state eluded her.

Heart pounding
in the darkness she lay
very still
lost
– lost in the vastness of Anywhere.

She knew that she traveled with two horses
she knew the ponies’ names and shapes and quirks
she knew which one she rode and which she packed
she had lost none of her skills
intelligence and memory intact
she could not mentally turn the lights on
and see where on the planet she was.

She was alone among strangers.
In the morning she was expected to travel on.

That was the plan
and so that’s what she did
saddling up her ponies
tying the familiar packs onto the dun
– nothing changed in the routine.

She led the horses out to the road
took out her knife
balanced it on a flat rock
gave it a spin
glanced in the direction of her future
retrieved her knife
mounted her pinto
and rode out into the world.

She did this every morning
and her life went on much as before
day following day
meeting people and having adventures
finding food and a place to sleep.

The story says she never did find her home.

(sometimes this story is called “The Woman Who Lost the Notion of Home”)

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this too shall pass…

Posted on May 21, 2012 by Sea G Rhydr

It’s funny how that ‘phrase, while always true, is so much more comforting in the hard times.  I was looking at the ponies yesterday, Saint Finehorn with her holy withers – Jesse James’ coat of flames even more pinto than before – realizing how much reconditioning we all have ahead of us, hoping that the rest of the healing can happen as we progress, slowly, out of this rocky desert and the ever increasing heat.  And I was remembering a conversation I had with my Mom 4 summers ago.  She and Dad had been in a car accident and Mom had fractured 3 vertebrae; I went home to play nurse.   It was pretty intense.  A few months into the healing process Mom recalled her broken arm of a year and a half earlier, my dad’s hip replacement between that accident and this – it all just piled up and she wondered out loud if life was just going to be like this from now on – injuries and pills and hospitals and pain.  I’m afraid I didn’t have anything very profound or useful to say at that moment.  Things were pretty bleak and there was simply no way to know.  That was reality.
 

I’ve been living in my own version of that reality for much of the past two months.  Wondering if the ponies will ever fully recover.  Wondering if it’s just going to be like this from now on.  And then I think about my Mom, and how she answered her own question.  The very next summer, there was my Mom, on a week long bike tour of the Czech Republic with her little sister.  On top of the biking, she wrote back: “We have walked so many miles our calf muscles ache – how strong we will be… ”   It’s good to have such intrepid footsteps to follow.

  

I am aiming for a very early departure on Thursday morning to beat the midday heat.   I have promised Finehorn that she will carry less than 100#.  New and improved padding is in place for both steeds.  A brand new Mutha Hubba tent awaits!  Next stop – Gillard Hot Springs – 70 miles from here.  We can do this.

and we’ll rest when we need to…   😉
thanks Mom!

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Frye Mesa Reservoir

Posted on May 15, 2012 by Sea G Rhydr


Sunday I was invited to accompany 3 generations of women on a drive/picnic up to Frye Mesa Reservoir.  I haven’t gotten out much in the past 5 1/2 weeks – and that’s pretty much been a straight run to town and back.  Lately when I get into a vehicle I sort of click into “dog mode” – happy happy joy joy – going for a ride – yup – wind in my hair – woof!  So I didn’t even ask about where we were going beyond necessary foot gear and what to bring.  I just got into the Jeep.  In this case it was not about the Journey -> suffice it to say H drove for an hour and 1/2 – most of it on unpaved roads – ummmm – big rocks! – we gained over 2700′ in altitude – it wasn’t nearly as scary as Johnson Ridge Trail coming out of Sespe – and I was quite brave, considering.  The incongruity of big bright delicate cactus flowers and, as we gained altitude, Grass! (Don’t tell the ponies – it’s been awhile since they’ve had much in the way of satisfying graze.)
     
    

The Destination – a tiny gem of a lake between waterfalls in steep narrow canyons above and below.  Gorgeous little oasis with plenty to do and even a few spots of shade.  Not as hot as down below and even a little breezy.  Grandmere, Mom and Daughter took the trail around the lake to search for a hidden waterfall that Daughter’s teacher had mentioned – and I sat down on a rock with my feet in the water and my journal in my hand.  There was informational signage that a population of rare Gila Trout lived in the reservoir and as I sat there I forgot all about my journal as a pair of 6″ long shimmery fish came over to check me out.  Then the crawdads started emerging: from 5″ long stocky fellows with serious claws to pale crustaceans less than 2″ long.  I was not a good environmentalist.  I went to the cooler and got a tortilla and some cheese.  The trout took the floaters, the crayfish went for anything that hit the ground.  I was drawing a subaquatic crowd.  A dozen fish and 27 crawdads was my best count!
  

The 3 returned with tales of a glorious waterfall and a rope to climb up and irresistable enthusiam that I really needed to come check this out.  They were correct – the only thing to add with words is a reminder of the Sound of the water and the memory of Gila Trout that were attempting to jump UP the waterfall!  Some people arrived who knew the secret of the rope that dangled from above – grabbing hold of the rope, they planted their feet on the wall and walked up it, using the rope to support their upper bodies.  9 year old M watched them and then followed them up – right as my camera ran out of battery (argh!)

Yesterday and today have not been so restful – we’re 2/3 of the way through bringing in the first cutting of alfalfa (almost 300 bales!) and putting it into the hay barn.  It’s green and Heavy!  I’m feeling about flatlined with the heat – and drinking plenty of water!  4 women on the “crew” (49, 46, 32, 9) – and it turns out that the most efficient use of a 9 year old in this situation is driving the truck – she’s good, too!
  

Hopefully we’ll finish that off tonight and I won’t have to set my alarm for 5am again.  Last night it was still too hot for comfortable sleep at 10pm.  It’s time to hit the trail again – Monday and Tuesday are predicted to be over 100*F.  Jesse James is in good shape except for a strip of naked skin about 1/2/” wide and 1 1/2″ long.  Finehorn is improving daily, but still has a nasty spot about the size of a 50 cent piece with a hole that still needs to be irrigated with the syringe of hydrogen peroxide.  My first choice would be to stay put until the hole is closed – which should be soon!  Oh – just learned that there’s an annular solar eclipse this sunday afternoon/evening – the 20th (new moon).  I’m outside of the area where the total eclipse will be visible – a band which goes from the NW to Lubbock (where the sun will be setting as it’s eclipsing – how cool is that!?)
          

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that which can’t be known…

Posted on May 9, 2012 by Sea G Rhydr


When I was riding through the San Carlos Apache Lands, one of the things I noticed was that names were not exchanged instantly and automatically.  There were many people that I had conversations with and never learned their names, nor they mine.  One of the reasons I noticed it as “a thing” was that I was frequently asked the names of the ponies, but it stopped there.  On a Journey like this one, when I am meeting so many people that I will likely never see again, a person’s name is generally one of the least interesting things about them.   I’m not going to remember a tenth of them; besides which it’s always been amazing to me how many people have the same name – years ago when I was in Oregon it seemed that every man I met was named John or Bob or Steve!  The Apache pastor I stayed with said that he refers to his wife as “Woman” because he doesn’t want some other man to know her name and be thinking about her, able to call her by her name.  There’s a logic to that which I can appreciate.

When I was living down on Vieques and doing a lot of snorkeling (and taking a lot of other people snorkeling) I was learning the names of many of the common fish and corals and other denizens of the reefs – people wanted to know what they were seeing.  Then I met an amazing little bulldog of a fish – it had a flat little pug face, was all of two inches long and sat sturdily perched on its paired ventral fins (see how handy names are!?) defending a little knob of reef.  I hovered over this wee fish, drawn in by the subtle colors of its mahogany body washing out into delicate orange fins fluttering like a fairy’s ballgown, returning day after day – until I learned its name.  Red lipped blenny.  All the mystery was gone.  I swam by and said “hey, red lipped blenny, I know you! How’s it going?”  After that I only really noticed if the blenny was gone from his perch.

A lot of people ask me if Sea is my “real” name.  What does that mean?  Sea G Rhydr is the name on my passport and my driver’s license (neither of which I have much use for lately) and it’s the name I respond to, the way I think of myself – it’s what people call me.  So it’s my “real” name in terms of both government documents and common usage – how much more real do we need to be here?  But there are people who push farther -> is Sea the name your parents gave you when you were born?  There is an urgency to the question that unsettles me sometimes and I feel myself closing down, wondering what business it is of theirs what name I carried 46 years ago – and why they care so much.  Honestly, it feels like a “power over” thing – as if that information will tell them something more true – as if it will help them penetrate my secret nature or something.  My birth name is not a secret, it’s Carla Celeste Gieser, but what does that really mean about who I am in this moment?

In the Old Testament, when God (speaking from the form of a bush that was on fire but didn’t burn up) sent a message to the Israelites via Moses, Moses asked “When they ask me the name of the one who sent me, what shall I say?”  The reply?  “I Am.  Tell them I Am sent you.”  (How gangsta is that!?)  The name doesn’t change the Reality.  The burning bush wasn’t I Am – that was just a bit of drama to get Moses’ undivided attention.  The form doesn’t change the Reality.

This Journey I am on is very much a Spiritual one – more than I’d ever suspected when I left the Apple Farm 7 months ago – and yet I find myself really hesitant to write anything in the blog that addresses things on that level.  I mentioned that to a friend on the ‘phone the other day and she said “What’s the problem? That’s not what your blog is about anyway.”  My first (internal) response was: who are you to tell me what My blog is about?  But there is a level of this Journey that IS about a spiritual path.  And there are times when that’s a delicate issue – on a pragma level!

Picture this:  I’ve had a long day, gotten seriously lost twice, it’s getting dark and I’ve finally found a place for the ponies.  The man who has opened his corrals is a bit inebriated and we’ve just discovered that he attends the same church as the people who “rescued” me and who are taking me to the safety and comfort of their house for the night.  Religion is in the air along with the aroma of alcohol and the man holds out a $100 bill while asking “Are you a Christian Woman?”  I absolutely don’t want to lie in a situation like this, nor do I want to offend anyone, and the money felt like a literal God-send at that moment in time.  What to say?  There’s no time for a long drawn out theological discussion, this isn’t a simple question in my world – and the easy, flip answer would have been to quote the line from Marc Cohn’s song “Walkin’ in Memphis” and reply “Sir, I am tonight.”

What I did say was “yes – I believe in the Truth behind the words, but I feel like when we start putting labels on things they tend to get complicated and divisive.”  Which was the short version – and served the purpose.  I left on this trip with barely enough faith to pack up and ride out.  I didn’t even recognize it as faith at that point of the trip.  I’ve always wanted to do this and never believed that my dream could really come true.  As the months have gone by and I’ve grown into this life I’ve come to feel that this is what I was designed to do – and that I’m being protected and guided and taught and loved and supported every step of the way.  Some of the steps have been pretty rocky – but even getting frustratingly and dangerously lost has led to some pretty wonderful realities.  Everything I have needed has been provided as I have needed it and I feel such a sense of blessings and grace and gratitude surrounding this trail that I’m riding.  And I don’t want to fight about it or have to defend it – or be told I’m “doing it wrong”.  And I don’t want to keep censoring myself around thoughts and experiences that are “spiritual” in nature.  They are what they are – and I am what I am.

I end this post with a giggle – because I just received an e-mail from a dear friend who, not knowing what I was just writing, wrote:  “Good luck, Sea.  I’ll pray for you…..in a generic, non-denominational, no-obligation way, of course.”  I could read that as my scar tissue showing – but instead I’ll chose to be grateful for such a wonderful human being who meets me where I am and makes me laugh!

PS – the photos in this blog post were taken by the Fox when he was over from Ireland.  He really caught what it felt like to cross the Mojave – and somehow they never made it into the blog while that was happening – better late than never – so here they are along with a huge thank you to Ernesto Reynard!

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Progress – poco a poco

Posted on May 7, 2012 by Sea G Rhydr

Doc Lucas came out on Friday to take a look at the ponies.  We’d been here 4 weeks and as much as anything else I needed a prognosis with some clue about a time frame.  I’d heard everything from two weeks to six months – and anything beyond a few more weeks would require a radical change of plans.  It was hard to decide to go ahead and spend the money – about 25% of what I have left!  I am so glad I called – and got the vet I did.

Doc Lucas is old school.  I learned so much in the 40 minutes he was here – and none of it was fancy or expensive.  Jesse is on a regimen of daily baths with 10% bleach solution.  He said he wasn’t going to take a skin scraping because it wasn’t going to change his advice.  It’s probably a fungus – bleach kills fungus.  Bleach also kills pretty much everything else – so there’s an extremely high likelihood that it’s going to fix the problem.  Hair will stop falling out and start growing back.  I have also bleached the pads and left them in the sun to cook – and the whole padding system is in transition to provide more ventilation.

Finehorn had an abscess.  It finally burst (thanks to repeated hot compresses with castor oil and epsom salts and garlic) and left a hole.  The hole isn’t something you want to look at.  It is going to take time to fill in and grow some hair.  It’s not infected, she doesn’t need anti-biotics and she’s really good about letting me doctor it and do whatever I need to do.  Twice a day I take the hose to it until it’s clean and back to basics – then I use a syringe (without the needle attached) full of hydrogen peroxide to probe around and flush it all out – followed by a syringe with (less) iodine.  I can hardly believe how quickly it’s improving!

The plan is to be back on the trail in about two weeks.  Doc Lucas seems to believe that at that point I’ll be able to pad her adequately to be able to carry the packs (with a cut-out pad to take pressure off of her withers – and a lightened load) and from then on she’ll continue to heal while we travel (we hope!)  We’ll probably be doing shorter travel days with more rest days for awhile – and that’s OK.  We may not make it as far up into Colorado as I’d hoped – and that’s OK too.  Summer is here and I’m happy about that!

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