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.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

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”)

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

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!

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

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!?)
          

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

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!

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

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!

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Apologia

Posted on May 3, 2012 by Sea G Rhydr

“speaking in defense”
The word Apologia came to my mind this morning – probably because it sounds like “apology” – which is what I feel I owe to the ponies right now.  So I looked it up (on wikipedia, because OEDictionary has been supplanted by laptop – which weighs less!) and the word today has largely religious connotations, which topic we’ll get into in a later post.  Originally the word comes from the Classical Greek legal system; it was the defendent’s speech rebutting the charges – and hardly an apology!  The inside of my brain is a highly “judgenmental” place and I find myself frequently having conversations with imaginary critics – defending myself, my actions and choices – practicing for when these critics come at me in person.  The amazing thing to me is how Infrequently they do!

“You live and learn or you don’t live long” remarked Robert Heinlein’s character, Lazarus Long (who lived longer than Methuselah!)   This Journey has been a test, not only of what I know, but of whether I can learn quickly enough to keep the Rodeo on the Road.  I spend a lot of time analyzing (obsessing?) over what’s going right, what’s going wrong and Why.  I go back to the moment I pulled the ponies out of the trailer in Cutter at the Casino and Rodeo Grounds, knowing that none of us was in the best of shape.  I’d had a busy 36 hours with little sleep and much catching up to do, the ponies had just been vaccinated and Jesse had a few bald spots that seemed related to hot weather and rapid shedding gone awry.  I’d been up late trying to get everything done and up early for the pre-rush hour trailer ride from South Phoenix to Globe and I was anticipating being able to camp at the rodeo grounds and grab another day of rest before heading across Apache Country.  I had extra food along for me and 30 pounds of feed for the ponies and in all honesty hadn’t packed as precisely as I know is necessary because I thought I’d have an extra day to sort all that.  Wrong.

The Apache man driving the John Deere who greeted me as I unloaded the ponies was helpful and friendly, showing me where to put the ponies and mentioning that there was some hay left over from the rodeo that I was welcome to feed them.  Then his boss called on his cell ‘phone (watching from where!?) and suddenly I wasn’t allowed to camp because of “security issues” – but I could rent the pens for $10 per horse and get a room in the casino hotel for myself.  M (from the tractor) muttered something about “a man can’t even make his own decisions” and then took a look at my maps to help me figure out where I Could camp with the ponies for the night.  14 miles to San Carlos where I could camp along the Gila River past the old softball field – plenty of graze.  I loaded up on auto-pilot.

We were scarcely out the gate of the Casino property when Finehorn scooted up next to Jesse with a peculiar look on her face.  I thought she was just saying “hi” – and then the pack started to roll.  We stopped and I struggled to get the gear and saddle and ropes disentangled and separated from patient Finehorn – then did my best to rebalance the packs (on the 8’ of sloping grass shoulder beside the highway) retighten the cinch and repack the pony.  Not a grand beginning.  We made it to the river camp and I untacked both horses and tethered them to graze.  There was plenty of grass, but it was spread out along the river bank – the ponies ate everything they could reach in less than half an hour, requiring frequent relocation of the tethers.  This was a one night camp.

In the morning as I was packing a man arrived with his dog.  He’d never been off the Rez and was obviously out of his comfort zone dealing with me, but his sister had seen me riding by and told him to come talk to me.  He looked at my maps, listened to where I wanted to go, thought about the water situation (there was none on the main road for two days ride) and gave me directions to get to the gasline road that led to the Gila River and points West.  I thanked him and followed his directions to Peridot (they pronounce the t) where a group of men working on the ballfield filled up my water bottles, gave me two extra gatorade bottles full of water, confirmed the directions and warned me not to drink from the Gila as it was full of chemical runoff from farms and ranches upriver.  Onward.

I took the gasline road, despite being warned by a white man in a gasline truck (he looked like he never got out of it!) that my maps were wrong and the road stopped just over the next ridge (he was wrong).  When I got to the place where the gasline road crossed the RR tracks there was a group of men working on the railroad.  They were just finishing up for the day and they warned me about rattlesnakes (they’d killed 18 already this season) as they hooked their pick-up trucks onto RR wheel trollies so that they could drive their trucks home on the tracks.  Cool.  One man stayed behind to chat; it turns out that he and Jesse share a last name, and he warned me that I couldn’t get across the Gila on the gasline road, that the roads beyond were overgrown with thickets, but I would be able to take the RR tracks for a little ways and then I’d see the road again off to my left.  Blessings on LJ for this information!

I rode along, chatting on the cell ‘phone when I was on the ridges, confident that I knew where I was on my map, keeping an ear out for rattlesnakes and reassuring the ponies that the range cows weren’t going to eat them.  The road went down, the thickets thickened and suddenly, there was the Gila River – 70’ straight down!  I could look across the river and see the yellow gas line marker on the far bank which similarly resembled a cliff.  Dusk.  Close to 20 miles from where we’d started that morning.  There was No Way down to the river – not even for me to go down and bring up water for the ponies.  They looked at me.  They looked at each other.  We all knew the score.  Luckily there had been a seep back a mile or so – barely more than a mud puddle but at least it was potable for ponies – we went back and I made camp as night fell.

The next morning it was obvious to me that Finehorn was in trouble.  Her withers were swollen and tender and I did my best to pad and pack her to keep the weight off of them, but there was no possibility of staying where we were.  She stood like a trooper while I loaded her up, audibly grinding her teeth but not moving a hoof despite not being tied.  Jesse’s bald spots were growing, though he stepped out like he felt great and I had to remind him repeatedly to slow down for Finehorn.  The only way out of the mess was a 5 mile ride along the RR tracks – often ON the tracks themselves.  I had convinced myself that the tracks weren’t in good enough condition to be in use – though the silver (rather than rust) of the rails told me otherwise.  The footing was awful – lava and thorns – and it was Hot.  I had no water.

We eventually found a road and were able to get off the tracks and late in the day found a camp spot along the Gila river, not too far off of the highway and not too far from Bylas.  I unpacked and tethered the ponies, left my gear in a pile and hitched a ride into town for water.  We stayed there 4 days so that Finehorn could recover – until it felt to me that too many people knew that we were there and I started feeling uncomfortable about leaving everything unattended while I went to town for water.  We rode a day, took a day and a half off with an Apache Pentacostal preacher and his wife, rode another half day to arrive at the ranch where we’ve been staying for almost 4 weeks now – dealing with the consequences of my bad packing decisions and the unforgiving terrain across which we’ve been traveling.

And now it’s time to go bring the ponies in from pasture and tend to their wounds and reassure them that we won’t be here forever.  Even as they reassure me that they still love me and they know that I do learn from my mistakes and thus we’ll carry on.

 

 

 

 

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Only the Good Stuff

Posted on April 26, 2012 by Sea G Rhydr

There is a strong temptation when I sit down to write a blog entry to focus entirely on the positive.  To write about the wonderful people and beautiful landscapes and frequent blessings and encouragements – the insights and learning opportunities and the occasional amusing mishap.  Even today I want to write about making tempeh – and how after failing miserably to keep the temperatures even close to the necessary 88*F (it fell to 70*F the first night – the second night I’d given up and it fell to 60*F!) – within 48 hours the culture had done its job and yesterday I ate (and shared) the delicious result of my first attempt!  Yeah me!  Yummy tempeh!

I have been here for three weeks now.  I limped in with two sore-backed ponies and was taken in with incredible hospitality and grace – and I’m still here.  It’s hard to write because I’m feeling guilty and ashamed about the condition of my horses.  It’s hard to write because, while I know this is all a part of “The Journey”, I feel like I’ve fallen off the trail somehow and I’m not going anywhere for awhile, and what does that mean and what do I do now?  It’s hard to write because I am afraid of opening myself up to criticism – or engendering a host of well-meaning (but ultimately useless) bits of advice that I’ll need to be polite about while inside I’m screaming with frustration and angst.  It’s hard to be honest with myself about this situation, much less open the window and invite an audience.  I’m scared and feeling stuck and helpless and stupid.

So – since that wasn’t getting me anywhere – I realized I needed a slightly different perspective, which might lead me to a different approach, which might even yield a more positive result.  I realized that I wasn’t being fair.  To you, the readers of this blog, who are following my Journey and presumably honestly interested/involved in what’s really going on.  To myself, depriving myself of community, consolation and quite possibly great advice, options and insight.  And to the Journey – because this IS all part of the process and who am I to judge it as “bad” and “roadblock” and “trap” and “negative”?  A week or so ago I got a call from J, who has been a great help and encouragement (and sympathetic, non-judgemental ear) over the past several months – a horsewoman and friend whom I’ve never met in person, she wanted to know what’s really going on.  It was good for me to spill it all out there, and  a huge relief when her response wasn’t harsh judgement, but better saddle pads for the ponies coming in the mail!

“I ride an old paint, I lead an old dan…
their tails are all matted, their backs are all raw.”

I am living on a ranch that is 6 miles of dirt road from the nearest town (20 minutes by car) -> Fort Thomas consists of a PO, a small store/laundromat/cafe that closes when the PO closes, a bar and a few houses.  The nearest “real” town (grocery store) is close to an hour away by car – I ride in with somebody about once a week to resupply.  Money is running low and there’s no obvious place to “get a job”.  It’s getting hot already, over 100*F over the weekend, and this is just the beginning.  I “need” to get out of the desert before summer hits in earnest – and I need to get over the continental divide ideally during July or August.  There is a very real sense that if I don’t get moving again by when?, the first of June?, I might be stuck this side of the divide for another year!  Hard to get my head around that and what it might mean – for the ponies, the Journey, the blog, Me!?!

The ponies are out in an 120 acre pasture with 3 mares and a molly mule – there’s just enough graze, they’re shedding out and looking good, apart from their withers/shoulders.  Finehorn came in yesterday with dried blood dripping down her left shoulder – I’m hoping that was a good sign.  The swelling is down, as is the over-all tenderness.  Jesse has a recurring skin thing going on, like cradle cap or rain-rot (maybe dry rot?) which causes his hair to clump up and fall out.  Ugh!  I’ve switched medicines/treatments a few times – currently I’m using Nu-stock  (sulphur, pine oil and mineral oil) because that seems to be what’s helping Jesse the most – and doing hot compresses on Finehorn’s withers (castor oil, epsom salts, garlic) – which was what finally brought the swelling down.

Part of my frustration with myself is the sense that I made the same mistake twice – and the ponies have paid for it both times.  30# of horse feed, divided into two dry bags and added to the load – first it was Jesse and the strained hip muscle, now it’s Finehorn’s withers.  Mea Culpa.  Part of my fear has to do with getting “stuck” – every day the weather window tightens, the resources dwindle – the ponies aren’t ready to ramble – and thinking too much along those lines hi-jacks my brain into some pretty bleak places.  It’s somehow easier for me to have faith in the Journey when we’re riding down the trail.  It’s easier to invite people to be part of my grand adventure than it is to admit that things are really hard right now.  It’s easier to write about the blessings that never cease – which Is a very real level of what’s Always going on – than to open the door for others to bear witness to my lack of perfect judgement, my insecurities and doubt.

But there it is.  For those of you who are praying for us as we Journey, perhaps this will help you know how to pray for us during these difficult days – healing for the ponies, wisdom and grace for us all.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , | 5 Comments

Bucket List of Destiny

Posted on April 21, 2012 by Sea G Rhydr


Yesterday I ate bear for the first time.  It was good – dense and chewy and flavorful, marinated and grilled medium rare.  I was served back strap from a 300# sow who had been eating mostly grass – all of these things being integral to the flavor and texture.  I’d been warned that bear was greasy and nasty and tough, that it would expand in my mouth the more I chewed it; that I’d hate it.  Nope – it was delicious!

So here’s the funny thing ->  I’ve been thinking a bunch about “Bucket Lists” lately – the list of things we want to do in this lifetime.  This cross-country horse Journey, in one form or another, has always been at the top of my own personal bucket list – sort of in the category of “the impossible dream”.  And here I am doing it.  Cool.  When I was 18 I made a bucket list with over 100 items listed.  When I was 34 and going through a pretty dark time, living at home and going through boxes of saved junk, I found that list – and made myself pick something to drag me out of my funk.  I wound up hiking 750 miles of the Appalachian Trail the next summer – not a bad first attempt at an extended hike!

That long ago list has disappeared – but a few days ago I started thinking it might be fun to dream up a new bucket list – maybe even post it on the blog – no reason I can’t double up on my dreams!  The two things that (randomly!) popped into my head were:  ride in a hot air balloon and eat bear meat.  Two days later H and I went down to town to try and meet B, who reputedly knew where we might be able to find some fire agates.  Turns out that not only did he know about the fire agates, he’d shot a bear on Sunday, cooked some up for dinner that night, and would I like a taste?  Ask and ye shall receive!

Meanwhile, back on the ranch, the ponies are enjoying their “vacation” and healing slowly but surely, I am in the process of learning to make tempeh (another bucket list item) today and the free range rodeo blog just celebrated 10,000 hits!  And going through my photos, I found pictures of another one of my bucket list items – I’ve always wanted to see the Ocotillo cactus in bloom.  I’ve also heard them called century plants (which is an exaggerated reference to how seldom they flower) and I’ve missed them by a week or a rainstorm several times – and we rode through them for weeks this trip!

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , | 3 Comments

Your Next Adventure?

Posted on April 13, 2012 by Sea G Rhydr

Once upon a time I moved to Vieques, Puerto Rico.  I found work, saved some money, got a bit of land and built a casita (a little house) with help from friends and family.  Now I’m riding across the country with the horses and Vieques seems long ago and far away – Except for the responsibility of keeping the casita occupied.  My current caretaker just found another gig and I don’t have anyone scheduled to be in residence from now until late December!  Help!  If you (or someone you know) wants to spend some time living “old school” in the Caribbean – here’s your chance.

Interested?  Read on.  The casita isn’t everybody’s idea of a dream vacation – but if you’re comfortable camping it’s pretty sweet.  The basic deal is simple -> a free place to stay in exchange for being a “security presence” and doing Something while you’re there to make things nicer for the next person.  The casita is 16’x20′ – there’s a ladder leading upstairs to the bedroom – Q bed (with mosquito net) hangs from the ceiling.  The casita is off-grid – no electricity.  There’s a propane stove/oven – please make sure there’s propane for the next person when you leave.  1000 gallons of rain water are stored in cisterns – a hand pump brings it up to two 55 gallon drums (one outside painted black for warm water) – from there it’s gravity feed to the sink and shower.  Grey water is caught in 5 gallon buckets to flush the toilet and water the plants.  Living at the casita is Physical.  The nearest store is 1/2 mile Down Hill.  If you want to keep food cold you’ll need to bring ice for the ice chest back Up Hill 1/2 mile.  The view is amazing – over rolling hills to the ocean – and the island of Culebra in the distance.  Downstairs is an 8’x16′ deck – upstairs is a balcony that’s 8’x5′.  The downstairs windows and doors can be locked – the upstairs is open to the view.  When it rains and blows you’ll stay drier if you move the bed downstairs.

The casita comes equipt with sheets and towels and hammocks, pots and pans and dishes.  There were two bicycles when I left, but there’s no telling what condition they’re in by now.  Transportation is an issue – it’s entirely possible to walk and hitch rides – if you’re a walker.  There are “publicos” (taxi vans) which will take you anywhere – when you can find one!  I had a scooter for awhile, which worked really well as island transportation.  The “best” (most secluded) beaches are down the Navy Road – which is a long walk by most people’s standards.  That said, the entire island is 21 miles long and 7 miles wide and the casita is situated sort of “north central” on the island.  When my folks go down for a week or two they rent a 4WD.  When it rains you’re going to be walking in the last quarter mile or so – because even a 4WD can’t handle the slippery red clay/mud that the road becomes.

Vieques is a bit “wild west” – not long on infrastructure – and petty theft can be an issue.  Don’t bring/flash valuables!  If you’re looking for casinos and shopping – this isn’t the island for you.  On the other hand – the snorkeling is great, the many beaches are lovely (and in the off season it’s entirely possible to have a beach to yourself!) – summer is Mango season, and there are also papayas, limones, carambolas, avocados, bananas, plantains, guavas, coconuts, passion fruit, nonis, anons, guabanas, cashews and more – you won’t starve!  There’s a fish market down by the ferry dock – or take a spear gun and a mesh bag when you go snorkeling.

I’m happy to answer questions about the casita and/or Vieques if you’re interested in staying at the casita for a spell.  It’s available Now – and through the end of 2012.  At this point I have a couple from the UK planning to be in residence January through April of 2013.  If that changes I’ll post something here – meanwhile I’m hoping to keep the place occupied between now and then with some miraculous patchwork of caretakers!  If you are interested please e-mail me at: sea-g-rhydr@juno.com

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment