Free Range Rollercoaster

Posted on December 23, 2011 by Sea G Rhydr

Last night I sat down and started a blog entry about the ups and downs of the past week.  I hit the “save draft” button and went to take a bath.  When I got back to the computer, everything I’d written had vanished.  It’s been quite a week and I’ll do my best to write about it soon.

Tonight I’m sitting down to write with an aching heart and tears blurring my vision.  Jesse James hasn’t improved over the past two weeks and this morning a vet came out to see him.  The current diagnosis is “Metabolic Derangement leading to Rhabdomyolosis (muscle damage)”.  The bottom line is that he’s not going to be able to continue on this Journey.  It’s not a death sentence, but he needs a special low-carb diet which we can’t provide for him on the road – and he needs a month or so of rest and then gradual reconditioning.  I cannot imagine this Journey without him.

At this point we have no intention of calling off the trip, however I am honestly at a loss in terms of where to go from here.  We have a rest stop planned in Rosamond, CA – from mid-January through mid-February at Mariah Country Farms, a WWOOFing host farm that makes goat milk soaps (among other things).  That’s 4 weeks from now.  For the past two weeks I’ve been walking along the road leading Jesse and Cowgirl (who has been steadily carrying the pack) for 5 – 12 miles a day and the blisters on the soles of my feet have broken and reformed repeatedly.  For four of those days we’ve been blessed with someone willing to transport our gear in their vehicle and I’ve been able to ride Cowgirl, who has done really well – but that doesn’t help Jesse, who has been gamely keeping up, trudging along because he understands that it’s necessary.  It’s hard to see the point in that now that we know he’s not going to improve under these conditions.

Right now I feel like my first priority is to find a good situation for Jesse.  Then we need to find another horse so that I don’t wind up walking to the east coast.  Meanwhile, tomorrow we move on, because that’s what we do.  We have visions of walking up to some random house tomorrow afternoon and knocking on the door of some unsuspecting family, happily involved in their Christmas celebrations, and saying “Hello, nobody’s pregnant and we don’t have a donkey, but could we maybe sleep in your stable tonight with our three ponies?”  We’ll let you know how that goes…

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the present moment

Posted on December 16, 2011 by Sea G Rhydr

We’ve been posting a lot of journal entries and photos from the beginning of the trip – and realized that a bit of a peek into the here and now might be a good idea – and hopefully interesting.  This morning finds us sipping tea in a large round arena – perhaps 70′ in diameter – solidly built of cinder blocks below and a metal panels above – the ground is sand, which was lovely for our tent and for the ponies legs – and we really appreciated the wind and noise block it provided.  Our hosts are Mexican, with beautiful horses of their own – and although they warned us that the neighbor might play loud music for a few hours last night, we didn’t hear a thing!

The nights are cold, but our tent and sleeping bags keep us toasty when we camp, and often we have been invited into people’s homes (and fed and showered and laundered and entertained into the bargain).  Last night hot burgers and cold pepsi were delivered to our tent – and a bale of hay for the ponies.  Today we press on to Corcoran – where we hope to do a bit of a re-supply, as we’re out of porridge and horse food, and very low on denatured alcohol…

We are growing more accustomed to this strange and haunted valley – the immensity and gridness of it all.  We are moving slowly, 5-7 miles a day of late, because Jesse James has a strained muscle in his left hip and we’re not asking him to carry anything or anyone while he has time to heal.  We count it a great blessing when someone is willing to transport gear for the day, because that means Sea can ride Cowgirl and pony Jesse, rather than trudge down the side of the road, leading them both.

Gryph was given a spectacular and well-worn pair of chinks two days ago, a blessing for her chafed knees (and they look So cool!).  We made a tack change for Cowgirl, packing her on an old (1904) McClellan cavalry saddle rather than a sawbuck – so we’re back on the learning curve re: packing, but at least we have the principles down and we only had to repack once yesterday – before we’d even left the yard.  We’d toyed with the idea of gradually transferring over to all McClellans, until Gryph put it on Finehorn and sat in it.  The slot down the center of the saddle (to allow air and lack of pressure on the horses’ spine) seems to have been specifically designed for men – which makes sense as there were no women in the cavalry in 1904 – we have yet to meet a man who considers it a problem (or a woman who considers it ridable!)

It is strange to realize that so many of you are busy preparing for Christmas – and to wonder where that day will find the 5 of us.  Occasionally we pass some reminder, a huge Santa hat on a John Deere tractor – or Christmas lights decorating a house we see across the fields.  Nothing to do with us hobos – who ride along each day wondering if there will be room for us to stop for the night and throw down our bedrolls in a barn (we don’t even knock at the Inn ;-).

Now that we are finally getting the blog up and running, we find it a great encouragement when someone decides to “follow” us – and/or makes a comment (which lets us know that we’re being read!)  Blessings on you all  — as we have been incredibly blessed thus far on this journey, by the love of friends and family and the kindness of the wonderful people we have met and are meeting along the way.  Our hearts are filled with gratitude.

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Sea’s Journal: Excerpts (Oct. 23-28)

Posted on December 13, 2011 by Sea G Rhydr

23 October – Pitched camp in darkness – lost again – horses drank from puddles today.  Left BS camp just after 11 – found Flynn Ridge Road today – a beautiful ridge-top ride – horses dripping sweat exhausted by the time we hit the top.  The breeze soon cooled them and they stepped out well on the gentle dirt road.  Across the Masonite Road to Bailey Ridge we were making good time – no worries – but somehow at Low Gap we made a serious error.  Finally found the way, and out around a gate that read “Flynn Ridge” – so at least we have a touchpoint.  Wrong turn – NW is not part of Masonite that we should be on – back to gate – other direction – but somehow in the dark we must have missed something – once again found ourselves heading NW (!?!) – too dark to continue and we’re in a truck pull-off behind a huge tree stump – ponies tied to trees in edge of forest on flat ground – extra ration of oats to make up for lack of evening graze.  Gryph and i have one Nalgene of water between us which we are saving for morning – both thirsty.  Cold tortilla w/ cheese and sausage for dinner – tomorrow it’s back to the gate.  GPS is not functioning (no signal?) and MRC map doesn’t match DeLorme for this section anyway.  Bearbags – best we could do – wouldn’t fool anyone – but at least they’re hung out of camp and there’s nowhere else to put them.  Seen plenty bear scat today…

24. Oct. – Hot last night – slept with sleeping bag unzipped and still very warm!  Started the day lost.  1 litre water b/w Gryph and i for hot morning beverages with cold sausage and cheese tortillas – nothing else but a bit of gorp that doesn’t need to be cooked with water.  In retrospect the DeLorme map was correct and the MRC topo was wrong – followed compass and intuition to the bridge K had mentioned – Low Gap over and Masonite below — went down to Masonite and headed East – did close to 15 miles today and now are 8 miles from Ukiah – where we hopefully have a place to stay – need a resupply of horse and human food and some oddments of gear, time on-line and cleanliness would be beneficial as well.  J, the head forester who had issued our permits,  found us a mile from a bridge – checked how we were doing.  We asked about water – he said up a mile or so and then another 2-3 miles to where the road parallels creek – pulled away – w/in a few minutes he returned – .7 miles on the right, 50′ before a metal bridge, he’d opened a gate for us to a place where we could camp – water and graze and a flat tent stop – really cool – he also twigged that we’d had no water and gave us bottled water from his truck – really a boon at that moment and it held us together just enough to get to camp, take care of the ponies, set up camp and deal with purifying water and making dinner.

Lots of bird and animal activity and noise tonight.  Bear bags are up high and not too close to camp.  Jesse is on high alert tonight – herd stallion mode – tense and gorgeous.  It was a long day on hard footing today and Finehorn was grumpy a bunch – can’t blame her – but still she was good as gold and friendly tonight.  They all grazed like fiends for 3+ hours when we arrived here – will leave a tad later tomorrow to let them enjoy this pasture.  MRC has been frustrating in terms of lostness – but so incredibly beautiful to ride through.  I realized yesterday that these are the roads i fantasize about riding across the country on when i daydream about the trip.  i don’t think we’ll be so spoiled/privileged often – but all in all this has been glorious.  Saw a buck and a doe today (and two dead rabbits in the road — which put the lie to me reassuring Jesse that those trucks are vegetarians and only eat trees… )  I think we were hearing wild pigs earlier tonight, coyotes and wild turkeys for sure.  Bear scat right by where we originally started to put up the tent (and within sight of last night’s camp on the road).

25. October – Made it to Ukiah just after 5pm – welcomed by A&M – ponies stripped and put out to pasture – Gryph and i in a bachelor pad above the barn.  Sorting and ‘phone calls – Jesse’s right eye a bit weepy and swollen this morning – Vaca’s back sore – Finehorn her usual stoic self even with sore feet and weary.  8 miles of road today after a late (2p) start. Gryph’s fiddle and my travel guitar were waiting for us, delivered by M – right now they seem like another thing to carry when we’re trying to pare down.

Chilly and damp last night and this morning – wild pigs were about last night – we saw where they were rooting – Jesse vigilant.  Gryph stirred up some hornets at the water hole this morning – Jesse, still half-way down the hill and waiting his turn, was the first to notice and vacate.  The mares followed him pronto – i chased after thinking they were staging an escape – but they stopped and waited for me on the road back to camp – Gryph got one sting (bite?) on her neck but we are otherwise unscathed.  I went back for buckets and a nalgene after they’d had time to settle a bit.  Vaca Suerte is losing weight even though we are feeding her more than the other two combined – worrisome.

   

27 Oct. – day off today and another tomorrow waiting for a pair of Renegade hoof boots for Finehorn (general delivery to Redwood Valley).  Yesterday was a really rough day – up the RR tracks – awful footing and overgrown with brambles and weeds.  We walked and led the horses over 8 miles of that and no-shoulder road.  At one point it was bad enough that we had to lead the ponies through one at a time – even then Finehorn’s pack took some maneuvering.  I led Jesse through and tied him on the other side and went back for Finehorn – when I returned, with Gryph and Vaca close behind, there were two boys (13? 14?) with guns standing by Jesse.  I acted confident and reclaimed my horse while joking “please don’t shoot my pony” – but the vibe was creepy and they kept looking at one another like they were trying to decide what they were going to do – or maybe they were just trying to make us nervous about what they might be planning.  Gryph tried to chat them up a bit as she went past, but we were glad to leave them behind and come out into a more open area.  When we got to JJF’s nobody was home but Gryph tended to the ponies (Rainbow Ag had delivered a bag of grain) and i walked a mile to the Redwood Valley Market for food (we had none!) and made it back by 6pm.  Finehorn seems to have forgiven us again by this evening.

I keep having flashes of:  “Oh my Goddess, we’re really doing this!”  “We’re actually getting away with this!”  “We’re figuring out how to ride horses across this continent in 2011!”

The instruments are not an easy addition – can’t imagine having time/energy to play – Gryph’s fiddle case bag strap broke 1st time out – she re-rigged it today – see how it goes.  I need to figure out elsewhere for the tarp-wrapped sheepskin that rides behind Jesse’s saddle – it’s not working for the saddle and does not fit with the guitar.  Paring away the excess – gear, body, encumberments – Need to get more efficient in terms of packing up camp and packing Finehorn.  We are trying to be as close to mustang/natural with the ponies as possible – barefoot and graze – but up against genetics – like Vaca’s metabolism – and lack of conditioning (both mares, and Jesse’s bare hooves).

A little electricity is a dangerous thing – we’re staying up entirely too late.

28. Oct. – Walked to town this aft.  No boots @ USPO – no WiFi anywhere – no headlamp batteries.  Got back and T was here – she has a posssible WiFi connect on the way out of here – and knew of a (free) hot spring en route in Mendo Nat’l Forest – and organic farming community in Capay – And 2nd week of Feb is Primitive Skills gathering in AZ – goal!  It is hard to believe that Monday is Halloween and Tuesday is November!  Tomorrow I’ll go to PO and check for boots at 10am – then we’ll pack up and ride 5 miles to another small farm – goats and a hot tub, WiFi and a pasture, on the edge of Black Bart Trail.  It’s been a good two days here, restful and helpful, living in the yurt, getting on-line and dealing with pragma, enjoying healthy tasty food and good conversation.

I am dreading Sunday’s Hwy 20 ride (or walk!) of 10 miles (+ Black Bart Trail and around Blue Lake.  We’ll know if the horses are up for it after tomorrow’s trail ride.  It’s almost 10pm somehow – Time for Sleep.

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Sea’s Journal: excerpts (Oct. 18-22)

Posted on December 12, 2011 by Sea G Rhydr

18. October – Another crazy day.  Last night’s camp was only 1/2 mile or so before Dimmick.  Less than 6 months ago Gryph and i took a canoe down the Navarro River from Dimmick to the Ocean.  Today, less than a mile past Dimmick there were big trees down across and in the river – rendering it impassible. We tried.  There was no discernable road south of the river, 128 was close and scary with traffic to the north – back and forth through the river trying to sort a way through.  Jesse lost a boot and i went all the way back to camp trying to find it to no avail.  I put a rear boot on his front hoof, grateful that he’s the same size front and back.  Long stretches of belly-deep river were hard on Finehorn – deeper on her and the packs ride low enough that they were displacing water and dragging on her.  She was brave, but is really tired tonight!  Finally we returned to Dimmick, summoned all our courage, and rode along 128 until we found an MRC road heading back towards the river – rode around the gate, back across the river and finally found our trail.  Gryph and Vaca Suerte did much better today, after a bad morning – Vaca refusing to stand tied, breaking a D-ring off the saddle in her fidgeting and crashing about – she finally settled down and by the end of the day she and Gryph were ponying a flagging Finehorn.

We’d set 5pm as the “camp-by” time.  Half-joking, we’d put it out there: at 5pm we’ll find the perfect campspot, with water and graze for the ponies and a good place to camp.  We passed a few possibilities, none of them ideal, and at 5pm were just about to turn around when, at exactly 5pm, we saw a baby rabbit in the trail ahead.  Laughing, we followed it down the rabbit hole into a strange place – trailers and a porta-loo – odd old shacks – gorgeous green grass in a stand of mature poplar – funky little houses – gardens and a retired Clover Dairy truck “outstanding in her field” – a dome – cars and trucks and a hoop house and tidy vacation cottages – all this and not a soul to be found!   We found a smallish pasture with sheep fence and some sheds and decided, with a certain amount of trepidation, to make ourselves at home.  i went up the road to a cottage i’d seen with a garden hose outside and carried 8 gallons of water back in the canvas buckets while Gryph got started on dinner (lentils, couscous, onion, curry, butter).  At dusk a white truck pulled up to the electric-tape gate we’d strung.  I walked over and asked the driver if he knew who owned the place.  “I do.”  I explained our situation and A agreed to let us stay, asked if we had everything we needed.  I said yes, we try to be pretty self-sufficient, thanked him for allowing us to stay and for being cool about finding us there.  We threw tarp and bedrolls down in the wee old goat shed and slept well.  It took us 4 1/2 hours to get rolling again this morning, however, Finehorn’s pack stayed centered today even with all the drama.  A mile from the ocean on night 4

   

19. Oct. – Paul Dimmick Campground.  We made it to the Pacific today. There were signs up warning us to stop – the ocean was closed due to flooding – but we rode through to the shore regardless, wading through puddles to an empty beach, windblown past the abandoned Inn, gulls wheeling over log-strewn stretches of sand and water, a fishing boat and a lone pelican.  We took photos and turned back Eastward – to the Atlantic.

A stopped by in the morning, sent me to his house where i was welcomed by A and 2 1/2 year old S.  I called Dr. F who came by the pasture at 9am for health certificates and cogggins tests for the ponies – diagnosed Vaca Suerte’s rain rot, but otherwise we’re in good shape.  A&S returned with me to the pasture bringing Red Gala apples for the ponies (and a few for Gryph and i as well) – the ponies at apples ’til they drooled green foamy slobber all over the stroller and S’s clean blond hair.  Beautiful ride today, tho Finehorn’s pack slipped a lot at 1st, had to be reset 2x.  Frustrating for all of us – she’s so patient and good.  4 hours pack-up time this morning, even with the vet check and visits.

20. Oct. – Gypsy Camp on Flynn Creek – too close to 128 – but 5:30pm found us here with graze and water and a semi-flat tent spot.  Horses happy after a long day and a less-than-ideal camp (from their perspective) last night.  Jesse was barely speaking to me last night, even after i fed him an extra ration of oats (holding the skillet as he ate) – he’s back on board this morning after a good graze by the river and sharing my apple.  He lost a boot on the way up today, i hiked back down hill a fast 10 minutes to find it, then hiked back up again to where Gryph waited with the ponies.  Still hard to take a deep breath around my ribs.  We went up a road not on our DeLorme map – A. said it went up to Navarro Ridge road and we got there with compass, map, and the GPS on the camera.  Camera battery now dead and it’s the one piece of tech we can’t charge en route.  Beautiful high ridges today, up above the fog…

21. Oct. – Navarro Masonite Boy Scout Camp – another long day of backtrack.  Late start this morning.  Gryph hike/hitched to the Navarro Store this morning for a re-supply (bread,cheese,folgers,craisins,ham,snickers) while i packed up camp.  Ponies did well on the mile of 128 and we stopped in at the Mendocino Redwood Company (MRC) office where K checked our permits and gave us better topo maps.  We still took a wrong road – long and rugged – we were finally turned back by an avalanche, a deep ravine and two downed trees Xed across the trail – this after a tree we’d sawed through and a log that Finehorn, laden with the huge pack that she was struggling to carry safely through the narrow overgrown trail, had to jump!  Jesse crawled over one leg at a time, brushing his belly.  Steep ledges and tall glorious plume-topped grasses, thick brush and rocky footing – gorgeous and treacherous – and a wrong trail.  At 4:45, mindful of distance and daylight, we turned back to known water for the ponies and stumbled into the boyscout at 6pm.  Frustrating!

To a large extent our day’s ride is determined by the ponies – we are pushing them hard  – our getting lost is not regainable ground.  They can do a certain # of miles a day (or hours on this terrain – or hours under saddle – esp. Finehorn whose load never dismounts) and then they’re done.  When we take a wrong turn or cast about back and forth looking for the trail we are wasting their energy, feet, enthusiasm – along with the cost in time.  Blessedly the weather is holding.  Cannot imagine these days while also constantly drenched.

Finehorn and Jesse both tethered long last night and did well.  Tonight there’s a hitching rail – Finehorn and Vaca tied so their noses can reach the ground, Jesse on long tether.  Hearing lots of Coyotes from our boyscout tent tonight – hung bearbags from camp gate proclaiming “YoKaYo” overhead – wouldn’t foil a bear (not high enough) or even a determined raccoon – but out of the tent and away from mice and most other varmints – and there’s plenty of other food for critters this time of year.

22. Oct. – Day of Rest @ the Boy Scout camp – hot showers and a dryer (for clothes we washed in the shower) – a break for the horses with grass that needed mowing and a chance to do some mending and recharge the camera (GPS) battery.  It’s breaking down camp day and there are 30 people about – two ceremonies planned for the afternoon.  We moved out of the tent into an Adirondack style shelter across the way – met the friendly caretaker and his puppy – enjoyed the luxury of an outhouse and a place to spread out our gear and take a look at what we were carrying that we could probably do without.

I saw a calm 6-point buck this morning as i left the loo – otherwise remarkably little mammalian wildlife thus far – saw bear scat yesterday, a few wild turkeys, water birds on the river, reptiles and amphibians (lots of tiny toads).

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Words of Wisdom on our Departure…

Posted on December 11, 2011 by Sea G Rhydr

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Introducing Finehorn in Verse

Posted on December 11, 2011 by Sea G Rhydr

Finehorn came from Norway, Reno and Cleone/ She dumped us on our asses, then she carried all we own/ For 5 longs weeks she trudged along, stalwart ‘neath the pack/ Till one fine morning she allowed the Gryphon on her back/ Esparto, California was where she saw the light/ She’s the magic of our mornings and the one we trust at night.

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Sea’s Journal: excerpts (October 15-17)

Posted on December 11, 2011 by Sea G Rhydr

15 October – 9pm – Navarro River Camp.  I had wanted to start this journey on Columbus Day, and indeed, that’s when we  finally managed to pull up stakes at the Apple Farm, but tonight we’re in our tent for the first time.  We’ve entered unknown territory.  Packed and out of the Apple Farm at 1:15pm.  T said “see ya on the news.”  Over the bridge the gate was open onto the Cheesecake Road.  Gryph sang “we sailed away on a winter’s day, with fates as malleable as clay” (joanna newsom).  It’s true.

The ponies are tied to trees for the night; high and not too long to keep them from getting tangled in their ropes.  They grazed two+ hours as we set up camp, cooked and ate Onions, Beets, Patty Pan Squash, Tofu, Chevre and fresh Ginger.  We have entirely too much food.  It’s good food.  Crossed the Navarro River repeatedly today – generally rocky and shallow, but one crossing was chest deep on Vaca Suerte who led the way bravely with Gryph aboard.  Jesse James and i led Finehorn, happy that all our gear is packed in dry bags.  The canvas tarp covering our gear is a reclaimed bit off Gryph’s artwork, painted as a tablecloth for Thanksgiving dinner last year in Boulder, used to wrap my massage table for the trip west, hung in the teepee for the summer – Finehorn wears it well.  For the most part the horses have been sleeping since it got dark and we tied them to the trees.  Now they have woken up and are restless.  I went out to check on them and they each whickered to me in turn.  This will take some getting used to – for all of us.  The woods are Loud!  Frogs and crickets and owls and birds we can’t identify.

The ride today was brilliant.  We met two men from the Mendocino Land Trust who gave us topo maps of the next sections of the river.  Even so we overshot our river crossing and had to backtrack, a return to the river to make camp for the night.  Time to sleep…

16. Oct. – 7:30p – Cape Horn Campsite.  Found a fire ring and wood, considered it tacit permission and made a campfire to cook the last of the spuds for dinner (w/ carrots, onions, cheese and sardines.  Morning took too long – didn’t get moving ’til 1:15 again – then had to find the way across the river and onto the logging road – then we realized we’d lost a water bottle back @ the last stop so Jesse and  i went back while Gryph stayed with the mares.  Finehorn’s pack not as well balanced today as yesterday when S was helping us.  We realized we needed to redo from scratch about the time we found Cape Horn and called it a day at about 4pm.

I’m grumpy with the stress and the rope burns on my right hand that even with gloves on hurts when Finehorn tugs the rope (stopping to eat, for example, which is frequent.)  Part of the stress is the newness – nothing  is routine (except grooming the horses) – we have 12 hours of daylight and it takes 5 hours to get rolling and 3 hours to get camp set up – not much time to make forward progress and then when the way is not clear more time is lost.  Part of my issue is that people are expecting us in specific places @ specific times and we’re totally out of cell ‘phone reception so no way to keep anyone posted.  2 days into the trip and we’re 2/5 of the way to the ocean.  We are obviously in no way capable of being on a schedule @ this point – and need to stop trying.

Tonight the mares are tied close to one another from overhead branches and Jesse is on his 30′ tether.  It’s a risk, but will make his life much more comfortable if he can cope.  Finehorn is getting better with the tether, Vaca Suerte not so much.  We let her graze freely this evening, dragging a 6′ rope – she didn’t stray too far from the herd.  At least that lets her graze without constant attention (and too frequent tanglings).  Tried out our Steripen Adventurer water purifier device for the first time this evening.  Very SciFi – a little scary – i understand that the science is sound, but it’s a leap of faith for sure.  It’s certainly small and light and easy!  Funny to be using Old School collapsible water buckets from Sears to gather water from the river and pour it through the pre-filter into our SolLight water bottle/lanterns – where we stir with our glowing magic wand for 90 seconds to make the river water safe for humans to drink.  We both feel burdened by the amount of Stuff we’re toting around.  I’m sure the ponies share that sentiment.  What can we get rid of and still have what we need?

17. Oct – up just past 7am – misty morning and the ponies are as we left them – beautiful spot on the river and a temptation to linger but we’re pushing our luck re: weather -> time to roll.

8:20pm – not yet to Paul Dimmick Campground but I can hear occasional traffic from our camp.  A gorgeous day of riding in terms of scenery but rough in every other way.  Finehorn’s pack kept slipping to starboard and we kept stopping and trying to reset it, tighten the diamond hitch, start from scratch – annoying, time consuming and unsatisfying as we never could fix the problem.  Wondering if the tree is unsymmetrical or is it just a packing problem?  Finehorn is being astoundingly patient about it all – tolerant and still willing.  Vaca Suerte is treating Gryph like a passenger and there is little time/energy to devote to working with Gryph on her riding – while riding Jesse, ponying Finehorn, finding trail, backtracking and trying another way around or through, resetting the packs, tightening the ropes, getting off and on for various reasons, trying to sort the maps, etc.  Tonight I blew up at Gryph for not sorting dinner.  I had just done an emergency dismount and gotten dragged down the rocky river-shore trying to hang on to Jesse James when the mares got away from her and bolted past Jesse and I (we’d gone back to scout for a campsite) and he started to run with them – back towards home down a rocky, tree strewn river bank.  Finehorn lost the tent and Vaca lost her saddle pad (!?!) – which we retrieved – but otherwise we came out of it ok.  Jesse stopped before i let go – i led him back to find the mares who’d hit a dead end of fallen trees and started to return, both saddles seriously askew.  i am achy from the fall, with bruised ribs and sore right arm and shoulder.

I have asked Gryph to find some part of this trip that she can take charge of so i don’t have to feel like it’s all my responsibility to pay attention to everything – it seems that given her skill set, Quartermaster/Cook is the logical part to assume responsibility for – ideally down to planning and provisioning.  We are both stretched almost beyond our limits and I need to get over feeling like i am the one figuring it all out.  She’s fully capable of doing that part of things, and has been doing most of it in reality, I just need to mentally hand it over.  It’s frustrating to work and try and push so hard and only be making 5-6 miles of actual progress a day.  The MRC permit is only good for 6 more days and @ this rate we’re still 6 days from the ocean!

We must find a way to balance Finehorn’s pack – and get going faster in the mornings.  This morning took 4 1/2 hours (down 1/2 hour ;-)) which is still bloody ridiculous.  Evenings are less worrisome as we can finish up after dark – but the horses need graze time.

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Gryphs Jounal clippings, 10/14 – 10/25

Posted on December 10, 2011 by Sea G Rhydr

October 14th: This morning we packed up Finehorn, fully loaded for the first time with everything we will need from now on (we hope) and headed out of Highland Ranch and on through Hendy Woods for the last time.. We made it to the Apple Farm by 5pm, and were greeted with the chaos of an afternoon traffic jam. People driving out from a day of work, delivering barrels of apples, gathering around the front deck to finish off the day of cider pressing. The ponies pressed down to a vacant and sleeping gypsy camp. We stayed the night.

October 15th: Exhausted by a beautiful day of finding our way down the Navarro River, I am afraid tonight is not a night for sleep. The ponies are tied short to trees outside our tent. The bearbag is finally hung after a long dilema of where it should go among all these tall, straight trunked redwoods. We are camped under the redwoods in a grove off of the main trail, the river is not far below us and i can hear its constant babbling among the ponie’s huffs.                            

October 16th: Followed a beautiful trail of pineneedles and changing leaves, paralleling the river below. Made it to Capehorn and have set up camp in a saintly meadow, encircled by trees and open to the river down the rocky banks below. Finehorn and Jesse James are tethered to trees, Bacca Suerte roams free. Visions of her leaving forever, spooking and running, but we will not tether her because she has already threatened to kill herself on the rope..This is a dilema that must be tested the hard way…and she does not stray far, grazing contentedly by the others, going down to the river every now and again for a drink.
There is a fire circle by our tent, driftwood has been gathered and piled around. We made a fire tonight to cook dinner over.

October 18th: The river was completely impassable just after Dimmick Camp Grounds. After walking the horses belly deep through the river, we found several huge trees that they could not get over. Wasted over an hour trying to find ways around the river through the brush on the South side, and finally decided that our only chance was to take 128, above us on the North side of the river. We were terrified, but Bacca Suerte proved herself roadworthy, walking ahead brave and undaunted. The others followed suit, and before long we found a trail off 128 that led us off the road and closer to the Navarro. We took this winding trail, leading us farther and farther up from the river, and started looking for a place with water to make camp for the night.

We were working on manifesting the perfect camp stop: somewhere with water and pasture for the horses, and maybe even a shelter for us. It did not look like we were getting any closer to water, and just when we were about to turn around and backtrack to find water and graze, a rabbit jumped out ahead of us. Seeing this as an omen of luck, we followed it, down the rabbit hole, down: ducking under low moss covered branches and squeezing through thick brush on narrow grassy paths, into an entirely new Magical Kingdom.Soon we came out into a very strange place of seemly abandoned homesteads, Large milk trucks, rusted VW buses, wooden cabins with prayer flags, large yards of grass, and not a soul in sight or sound. We walked through this silence, feeling invisible or maybe like the world had ended. We followed the dirt road until we found an old pasture, high with good grass, fenced in except for the gate, furnished only with ancient goat sheds. We gave eachother sidelong glaces- did we dare?
I untacked the ponies, while Sea visited some of the summer cottages down the road to see if we could find anyone and actually ask permission. The cottages were all empty, but we soon found a hose to fill up our canvas water buckets. Everything we needed! Now our only concern was to not get kicked out…
At dusk, as I was making dinner, a white trucked drove by our pasture and stopped. “Hi! Do you know who owns this place?” Sea inquired to the man in the truck. “That would be me,” he replied, staight faced, bemused. Well he was happy to let us to the camp for the night, helpful too. “We’ll be gone in the morning.” We put up white tape over the open gate, and the ponies have plenty of graze tonight. We have layed out on our bedrolls in this tiny stall of this ancient and abandoned goat shed.

Only a mile from the ocean, as it turns out.

    

October 19th: Packed up and walked the last mile to the Ocean today. It was a windy day, and road to the ocean was closed due to flooding. We rode our ponies knee deep through the washed up pools to reach the shore. The winds were strong and we did not stay long- the windy openness of the ocean seemed to make Bacca Suerte wild eyed and insane.

Arrived at Dimmick and are camping here tonight. We had already knew the way this time and it was the first day with did not waste time getting lost. We tethered the ponies down by the river to graze, except for Bacca who was free to cross and eat the grass on the other side. Moss came to visit us bearing oat and apples.

  

October 21st: I went on a provision run to Navarro General Store this morning. By afternoon we set out on 128 to catch Masonite. Stopped by the MRC office and received topo maps and suggested routes, still took a wrong turn early out and got desperately lost. Spent the day bushwhacking up a mountain, Fine Horn jumping logs and scurrying around cliffs fully packed, all of us sore and sweaty and wide eyed in the middle of nowhere. We decided that we really had no choice but to turn around when we came to an impassable landslide. We turned around, almost defeated, and slogged back the last rocky steep and brambly 4 and half miles with the setting sun. At around 6pm we came across a boy scout camp. Camps with wood platforms and canvas tents, all empty (or so we thought). Ham + cheese sandwiches for dinner, ponies tied to a hitching rail, and we curled up in our pup tent and went to sleep. I awoke in the middle of the night to the jingle of a bear stick and adolescent male voices and knew we where not alone.

October 22nd: We woke early and dressed, fighting the dawn dew. We soon learned that boy scouts were occupying a camp down the way, and it turned out that today is the day they planned taking down all the tents and packing up for winter. They let us stay anyways and we moved into a larger open wood bunking house. They offered us hot showers and a drier. I gave Bacca a bath in the watering trough. The first official day of rest since we started this trip. Blessings on the boy scouts!

October 23rd: Started down Flynn hills again, minding not to take the wronge turn this time. Up a crazy ridge and successful, trails with gorgeous views taking us to the top of the World and back down again following red dirt roads. The vision of the trip is how i think of those trails. Bacca had a buoyancy to her step,  and we shifted from steep hot hills into shady groves. Half way through the day, the hills started to seem endless, the sun scortching, and the water no where to be found. we  got lost trying to get back onto Masonite Road. The topo map was not making sense no matter how much we backtracked, so we switched to the compass for a guide. The horses had to drink from puddles. The sun set burned too bright as we made our way through the brambles and to a gate labled Baily Ridge. Walking after dark along a road we could not name, we finally found a pull off spot off the road and made a dry camp.  No graze, no water, greasy sausage and cheese for dinner. YUK! Needless to say, we were all dehidrated, frazzled, and bone-weary.

October 24th: Found the connect back to Masonite (Wohlys Pass), the MRC maps turned out to be aslant. Long day on logging roads with no water still. We had to get permits prior to walking Masonite by John Remaley – who turns out to be a trail angel! He found us around 3pm and brought us water bottles from his truck and opened up a gate .7 miles ahead of where we were, giving us the key and combination of the Enchanted Forest. We arrived into open pastures bordered by oak groves, and a small creek down a steep hill. We camped for the night in this beautiful basin of grass, the night was cold and scarey and Jesse James stood guard protecting us from the wild pigs close by in the dark forrest beyond.

October 25th: Bisquits for breakfast (Finehorn loves biscuits and sausage, hell she even eats lighters – that pickpocket) Then i kicked up a hornets nest down by the creek while leading the mares to drink. Jesse James, sensing trouble, started a stampede and got everyone out before i even deemed the problem. They stopped when they got to the meadow and let us know they were not going to make a run for it. I got stung once on my neck. We set off and walked the 8 remaining miles to Ukiah.

The leaves are turning gold and crisy brown and floating down among us as we ride. The air bites with a fresh wind of impending winter. Finehorn has found her calling as a packhorse and has become the roots of our gypsy ways. Bacca Suerte is calming down noticably and is happily becoming my horse. She is like a snake to ride, always moving with the quickness of water. She has hooves of steel and may be a metal angel. She is losing weight, though, and i am trying not to worry about her. I have to remember, this is a miracle- Jesse James is the only one with conditioning, and they are all doing so well, working so hard. Becoming one with the herd, I have stepped out of time.

The Ending of the first chapter.

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Deep in the Central Valley

Posted on December 6, 2011 by Sea G Rhydr

Neither of us had ever been through the Central Valley of California before this trip.  If I think about it we probably had vague notions about a lot of the country’s food being grown here, but we had No Concept in terms of what that looked like or what that might mean in practice.  We have been traveling through the valley for three weeks now, starting with a night in a lovely organic walnut orchard where we were given fresh goat’s milk, 4 fresh eggs, the best almonds we’d ever tasted and absolutely elegant walnuts.

   

As we’ve progressed down the valley the concept of organic has grown more and more foreign and impossible.  Cowgirl drank from an irrigation ditch and got sick and we’ve been warned not to let the ponies glean the edges of the alfalfa fields because they’ve recently been sprayed with some chemical so that the alfalfa won’t grow at this time of year.  We are riding along the edges of gigantic fields, endlessly repeating rectangles of almond trees and pomegranates, alfalfa and cotton, tilled fields of emptiness and ditches and canals full of non-potable water (even for the ponies).

   

We’re meeting wonderful, kind and helpful people who warn us to be careful because of all the poverty and crime in the area; we ride down the road and meet even more wonderful, kind and helpful people.  We’ve been taken in and fed and offered showers, we’ve been given bags of almonds and dried apricots and sandwiches for the road.  We’ve had help with route planning and getting photos up on the blog and tack adjustments and finding food for the ponies.  We’ve all 5 been transported past the Bay Area – which seems to be rather impassible on horseback.  We have been truly blessed.

   

I know I need to get more specific stories up on the blog, Soon!  I’m struggling with issues of naming names and being honest about our experiences on the road balanced against respect for people’s privacy and not wanting to buy into the current trend of dragging out the dirt because that’s what’s “interesting” to people.  I read a book this summer about a family who drove a draft horse pulling a caravan around the world.  It was a brilliant adventure but the book devolved into an extended thank you note to everyone they stayed with, telling who helped them and specifically how, and was frankly pretty boring to read.  I don’t want to make this blog to be about that.  I also find myself fearing charges of getting “political” if i touch on certain topics.  Please bear with us as we find our way with this blog, even as we’re finding our way across the continent with the ponies.  The blogging is taking as much courage as the riding, and it’s obviously an intregal part of the journey.  Feedback is welcome (please!) and hopefully the blog will evolve as we evolve and the journey evolves.

  

If things are sometimes out of order, it’s because we’re really behind on posting journal entries from the beginning of the trip until the present, but we do want to share them.  When those are posted they’ll be dated and we’ll let you know whose journal they came from.  Sometimes photos will be added to already posted entries – so scroll back through once in awhile to check.  Tonight we’re on the outskirts of San Joaquin, heading towards Helm and Riverdale.  The ponies are out back in a cow pen and we’ve been invited in for the night.  As the nighttime temps are down in the mid 20*s (F) we are grateful.  Days continue to be glorious in terms of weather, and flat and boring and kind of scary in terms of terrain.  We saw a sign on the edge of a field today “Congress Created Dust Bowls” and a huge tractor out in that field raising a huge cloud of blowing dust.  We are riding through a land of profitable non-sustainability.  Water is the issue most often discussed – or more accurately the increasing lack of water.  We are asking lots of questions and listening to lots of stories and struggling to put together any cohesive picture. We hope to be out of the Central Valley by Christmas.

  

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Sea’s Journal: Excerpts (pre-trip)

Posted on December 1, 2011 by Sea G Rhydr

13 Sept. – Tuesday morning.  Yesterday was my last day of working as a trail guide at Highland Ranch.  I led two walking rides on a barefoot Jesse James.  So much to do with mom and dad arriving on thursday for the weekend.  Monday the 19th is the day of kicking into high gear – monofocus!  Shift of seasons – changing winds – clouds in the sky now after a summer of clear blue.

20 Sept. – Two weeks from departure on a two year (more or less?) journey across America on horseback and i am so swamped in the pragma of trip prep that the actuality of what we are attempting has lost focus.  The last time i rode my pony was Friday morning; i haven’t even seen him since then.  Gryph’s new pony arrived yesterday, still searching for a name and unridden over the past year.  My folks were here for a whirlwind 2 1/2 days, bringing gear and travel guitar from NY.  Trip prep stopped as we played tourist – going riding and hiking, to the fair and to the beach

21 Sept. – The trip itself has become surreal to me.  I have a feeling that the Anderson Valley is all i’ve ever known; this tiny world of the past 6 months, the Apple Farm, Highland Ranch, Lemon’s Market, Anderson Valley Brewing Company with WiFi and Disc Golf – and most especially this Camp where we’ve been living, comfortably and essentially outside all summer.  The Apple Farm of 35 acres – like a big house with rooms 1/4 mile apart – going up the hill to the pantry or the shower, across the creek  to trade massages at the teepee, bringing breakfast in bed to the chickens, the family of barn owls hunting through our open-air living room at night.  Camp/Apple Farm is Womb in the mother/body of Anderson Valley and we are about to be expelled through the birth canal (here to ocean and back to Ukiah) and into The Journey (proper)  and i am so aware that i have NO CONCEPT of what that will be like or how we will deal with it.

There are times i can barely breathe,overcome by the feeling of hanging out over a void, the unknowable, a squirming static emptiness in my chest, affecting my heartbeat, swelling up into my throat and squeezing my lungs.  The Fear has me and reflects out so that the simplest things, like opening an unfamiliar gate, becomes scary and potentially insurmountable.  My rational mind knows that this would be termed a “Panic Attack” in modern parlance, that there are drugs i could be prescribed that would buffer my emotions, smooth out my days, allow me to sleep at night, simulate some breathing room.  But i think my mind/body is telling me something TRUE!  We’re getting ready to go do something huge and scary and unknowable and brave and insane.  OK.  Pay Attention.  This is a Big Deal

12 Oct. – Highland Ranch.  Gryph is sitting on the deck of the yurt oiling tack.  Good ride today – tho short.  Gryph back on Vaca Suerte for the first time since the run-away incident on their first ride together.  They did really well together today.

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