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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6 weeks in…

Posted on November 22, 2011 by Sea G Rhydr

20. November finds us at the Dixon Fairgrounds. Gryph and I have thrown our bedrolls down in the Livery Stables on a carpeted square platform and the ponies are in the arena for the night. Much has happened in the past 3 weeks, including a change of steeds. Our beloved Vaca Suerte wasn’t well suited to life on the road – her metabolism and an unfortunate tendency to rain rot meant that she needed more food and shelter that we could provide. She went back to the woman we bought her from, with miles under her hooves and stories she’ll never tell. Gryph is now riding Finehorn and Cowgirl carries the pack.

“Cowgirl of 1000 names, Queen of the Rodeo, ’til late one night at the Boonville Fair, up and over she did go. She got a reputation, 3 years later had a foal, met us in Potter Valley then we took her on the road. When Finehorn chose a rider, Cowgirl took the pack. She’s joined the Free Range Rodeo and she ain’t lookin’ back.

(We’re working on a song about the journey – each of the horses has a verse – that’s Cowgirl’s verse – or at least the current version 😉

Tomorrow we are putting the ponies in a trailer and getting into the truck and heading down to Tracy, CA. Getting around the bay area in any sort of safe and reasonable way has proved to be beyond what we or anyone we’ve talked to can figure out and so, having been offered a ride, we’ve accepted gratefully. We finally got the 3G thing sorted on the iPad so hopefully blog entries will be happening more frequently – i’ve been keeping a daily journal and will be posting excerpts soon – and we’re working on figuring out how to post photos – and a map on which we’ll trace our route. We have been blessed with trail angels and fair weather – we’ve camped in walnut and almond orchards, slept in empty grain silos and soft warm beds, walked long miles beside narrow roads and ridden the edges of winter fields. We are all five alive and well, winter is hovering and it’s time to turn in for the night.

  

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Embarking on a Journey

Posted on October 30, 2011 by Sea G Rhydr

  

Bizarrely, it has proven easier to embark on an epic journey involving 3 horses and 2 women crossing the continent on foot, than to get this blog functionally up and running. We are currently in Redwood Valley, CA, having left the Apple Farm in Philo on Columbus Day in the pouring rain.

  “We” are a traveling herd of 5: Sea G Rhydr aboard Jesse James, Gryph Wulfkil atop Vaca Suerte, and our stalwart pack pony, the heart of the journey, Saint Finehorn. Thus far we have been truly blessed in terms of weather, geography, havens, humans and herd.

   

From the Apple Farm, our beautiful home for the summer, (where Gryph was farming)

we were invited up to Highland Ranch (where Sea and Jesse James worked as trail guides all summer). We arrived soaked to the skin; Gryph on Jesse, Sea on Vaca, Finehorn carrying nothing at all. We got the horses settled into their paddock and moved into the yoga yurt for 4 days. Our friend Moss arrived that evening bearing the packsaddle he’d custom-made for Finehorn (in 3 days!) and all of our gear (blessedly dry.) For four days we worked hard, sorting gear and riding out with the horses on the spectacular Highland Ranch trails, provisioning and working with Finehorn and packing.

        

Gryph and Vaca are both pretty green (Gryph had cantered exactly once before Vaca Suerte ran away with her the first time we tried to take a trail ride) but by the time we left Highland Ranch on the 14th of October Sea was back on her beloved Jesse James, Gryph was on Vaca Suerte and Finehorn was fully loaded and coming into her own. We made it as far as the Apple Farm.

The next day Sophia sorted us into a Diamond Hitch and we were following the Navarro River to the Pacific Ocean by 1:30pm. The plan was 2 1/2 days. The reality was 4 1/2 days. The learning curve was intense. We met men who gave us maps. We got lost anyway. Every Day. Finehorn’s packs slipped sideways and had to be reconfigured. Every Day. Still. Today. One hour down the road we have to stop, unload everything, re-sort it and pack it all back on. Live the question: do we have enough of the requisite skills to pull this off? Can we learn the rest fast enough to keep the 5 of us safe and sound?
Already it seems strange to sleep where we can’t look out of our pyramid tent and see our ponies grazing. Finehorn and Jesse James have come a long way with their tether training. We can leave them tethered to graze on 30′ cotton ropes and for the most part they do really well, and if they do get tangled in something they wait patiently for us to come free them. We have even started leaving them on their tether ropes at night – much more comfortable for them. Vaca Suerte is another story! She has no respect for ropes so she gets tangled easily – and then panics. We’re dealing with this by leaving her free to roam during daylight hours (she doesn’t stray far from the herd) and then tying her high to a tree at night with a rope short enough that she can’t get into a mess. As long as she’s tied close to her buddy Finehorn she’s reasonably content, and it’s better than risking an injury.
There is so much to tell, but also much to do – this post is mostly to say that we are safe and well and learning – photos will follow soon, along with a route map.
Tomorrow we head towards Clear Lake – and further adventures!

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