Last Sunday: a lovely day at Crystal Farm - not too hot; breezy, sunny: wonderful. Tico and I went out back to the off-property fields, an easy hack with obstacles both expected and not so much.
I like to bring him to a spot where there's a small hill - really more a berm, about 3 to 4 feet high, 3 feet wide, covered in scrub brush and tall grass.
People have tried to keep the ATVers out of the area by dropping logs by the berm, so that it's become a bit of a "trail obstacle", a little thing to challenge him with.
At this "challenge", we weave around the logs and branches, go up the berm, turn a bit to the right, go down the other side turning left, around a fence post, through more scrub brush to a tiny brook, and cross the brook. By this time we're close to the street and if life were perfect the trails on the other side of the street by the power lines would beckon.
Unfortunately, they've been so torn up by the aforementioned ATVs that they are impassible: it's quite wet at the very beginning, basically swamp, and the 4 wheelers have created mud troughs on the paths which were originally relatively dry. They are now horse swallowing miasmas which conceal god knows what kind of detritus: nasty broken bottles, rusty metal shards, half-rotted splintered wood, all have been seen.
As I had headed out, going down the path just past the back outdoor ring towards the gate, I heard the unmistakable sound of off-road something, be it 2, 3, or 4 wheel, so I knew they were back. Tico heard too, and though not on high alert, he was definitely noticing.
The way this is configured: the path goes down between two fence lines, and at the end of the path, perpendicular to the fences, is a metal round pen gate, closed with a very heavy chain.
Since we could hear but not see the ATV, I contemplated not doing another of our "challenges": opening and closing the gate mounted.
Tico knows the drill: we sidepass over towards the gate, with him hanging his head over the fence so I can reach the chain. I then lean way over, unhook the chain (it's quite noisy, another little desensitizing thing) and drop it. The gate starts to swing a bit open, I sit back up, Tico pushes it with his nose (I can't get him to not do that) and we pass through.
Once through, we go back towards the swinging gate, and I try to grab it while Tico tries to "help" by pushing it. When it's close to the fence post, we sidle up next to it again with his nose over the fence, I lean way over again, wrestle with the chain, and loop it back in.
Time to admit something I don't often acknowledge: being an adult means I know I'm mortal. And I know those periods where I'm bending down around the side of my horse grasping a large, nosiy chain and trying to wrestle it out of, and then back in to, a hooked piece of metal, make me vulnerable. I'm off-balance, Tico could spook, my foot could get caught in the gate, the gate is very hard, the fence posts are very hard, and
I've been known to not let go of things when things turn sideways. So those "challenges" aren't always 100% Tico-challenges.
I sucked it up, the ATV didn't suddenly appear out of the mist (not surprising, since there was no mist - did I just use hyperbole?) and we got through just fine, thank you very much.
I couldn't hear the ATV any more - I figured it had crossed the street to further wreak destruction on the trail by the power lines.
We turned right, and ambled down the big field - where the power lines continue, by the way - towards the berm (you knew I'd get back to that, right?)
Just before the berm is an area of trampled down and scattered broken branches, bits of wood and bark, all remnants of sawn trees, now moved to the side to rot and provide habitat for wasps and other things I don't intend to identify, ever. I've seen a coyote in that field, maybe it lives in there. I have no idea.
Tico picked his way among the broken and dead bits of branches and bark, ears up but relaxed. I tensed up a bit as we were about to climb the little berm: the grass there is longer and he would often make a grab for a bite when that kind of opportunity waved itself under his nose. He was a star, though: up the berm, a couple of little tippy-toe strides to line up with the path going back down, then marched right down, no "I'm STARVING!" grabby mouth.
I could see from the dirt in the path - newly gouged, darker - that an ATV had been through there - so much for the blockade. We continued along the short distance past the remnants of the fencepost along to the brook. It's only about 2 feet wide, and is actually fed by a swampy pool off to the right.
In the past, Tico has done that "I don't want to get my tootsies wet" dance that all horses seem to have in them. I learned that if I let him put his nose in it (whether it be clear or bracken) he'll cross it. I usually have to give his head a bit of a yank to keep him from sampling it first, but we cross. There were times I thought he was bluffing, but no - he'll drink it, no matter how disgusting. He's eaten mud he hasn't wanted to cross - and then put his feet into it. I don't know why things become safe to walk in or on if he's eaten or drunk them, but there you go.
He walked through after a short hesitation to smell the water, then we went along to the road and turned around. And I realized I'd been hearing an ATV behind me for a bit.
Tico and I were on the other side of the brook when the kid came tearing up the berm. I held my hand up and yelled "Hey!", hoping he didn't have earphones on and might actually be looking where he was going.
As ATVs go, this was one was pretty small - kind of a Mini-Cooper version of an ATV.The kid was young, and all decked out in colorful leathers and helmet with a reflecting visor. He was also apparently a bit intimidated by a tattooed woman glaring at him from horseback: he saw us (thankfully), stopped, and backed the ATV off to the side so we could pass.
I stopped glaring (I think), smiled (if I was still glaring it was probably not a reassuring smile), said thank you, and waved. Tico, who was himself probably rolling his eyes and looking a bit deranged, calmly crossed the brook again, we passed the mini-ATV, and continued over the berm to the side of the field under the power lines.
From there, I thought I'd get past some of the bumpier sections of what is almost a path which parallel the lines, and ask for a canter.
We have occasionally had issues on that front - I want to go straight, Tico tries to veer to the left back towards the gate and the barn. We have had some knock down drag-outs about it, him trying to take off, me pulling back, him spinning, side-passing and throwing "Tico bucks" (more like see-saw hopping, but getting his point across, the point being he's a spoiled little twit having a hissy fit)
The training he got last summer, along with an occasional tune-up and my working on my consistency with him, meant that our canter was quite nice, controlled, and he only slightly veered towards the gate (which was corrected). So far, pretty happy with the little booger.
I pulled him up just past the small overgrown stone wall that's perpendicular to the power lines, and we continued on towards the dirt road that veers to the right, into the woods at a calm walk.
The path as it enters the woods and we go from sunlight to shade has always been one of those places where he thinks boogeymen are lurking. Not this day, though - calm, attentive but not high-headed and white-eyed. His stock was continuing to rise.
I was checking out the flora - we were basically on a path that bisects the swamp, and there was skunk weed, fiddleheads, and other green, brown and yellowish things which I couldn't name if you put a gun to my head. There were moss-covered downed logs, scrubby trees, weeds, bushes... and a turkey, who stepped out right in front of us.
Tico is convinced that any turkey is an attack Ninja turkey. I'd been looking down and to the side, so my first hint that all things were not well in Ticoland was our screeching halt. Feet splayed, he was suddenly much shorter, then much bigger with his head in the air and his eyes bugging out.
The turkey wasn't impressed. He stood there looking at us for about twenty seconds, ruffled his feathers a bit, and disappeared back into the swamp.
I could almost hear the wheels spinning in Tico's little brain: oh, hell NO, I am NOT going forward so that that thing can come leaping out and attack me! Did you see how BIG that was?
So I sat on him and waited. He did make a couple of attempts to retreat, which were rebuffed. When he finally lowered his head and sighed, I told him to move forward.
Though he was clearly not happy about it, we didn't side-pass into the other side of the swamp, leap forward, or take off - even when the turkey, just as we passed by, stood up on a log and spread his wings, then tumbled off into the water (I'm not sure what that was about...)
As we left the swamp/woods path and entered the next clearing, Tico was already starting to relax again. We walked calmly up the slight hill paralleling yet another stone wall on our right, both of us looking around but with no alarm.
At the top of the hill, there's a small break in the stone wall where there are mostly flat stones which we can scramble over. Past that is a path into the woods. We scrambled over and continued on.
Again, Tico was being a really good, calm boy. This is New England, so any path in the woods comes with roots and stones jutting up and partially or completely covered in fallen leaves and or pine needles. Tico picked his way carefully and responded well to my leg when I moved him over so that I could avoid being whacked by the overhanging branches.
We were nearly to our turn-around point (a "private property" sign) when he suddenly got up on his tiptoes again. I made him continue on until I decided we were going to turn, him getting a bit more agitated, his attention off to the left.
As we turned, I saw what had caught his eye: what looked like two dogs (I'm pretty sure they were dogs: too much white on their bodies to be anything wild), in stealth mode, leaping through the woods about 30 feet away, enjoying themselves. They were clearly minding their own business, but having had a stealth dog scare the bejeebus out of a horse I was riding and getting bucked off (to land in the only bit of water in about a mile, a man-made pond next to where I'd been letting my mare graze), I agreed with Tico about the need to be alert. We walked out of the woods, but he was employing his power walk.
After scrambling over the rocks back to the clearing, he breathed a sigh and relaxed. I took a bit longer to decide the dogs weren't interested, myself.
Back down the hill, through the swamp road (he looked over where the turkey had last been seen - not gonna lie, so did I) without a hitch, and we continued our big circle over towards the construction company and its piles of stones and dirt, then across behind it, over to the front field which parallels the turnouts and where we occasionally breeze an oval on the grass.
As we came around a few of the bits of construction detritus to enter the field, Tico suddenly did a 360 (who says this old cowhorse can't spin?)
Now I would have expected a 180, if he was going to do a turn... but maybe I've impressed upon him enough times that racing back to the barn when the sky is falling and boogeymen are raining down is just not going to happen, and he, mid-spin, decided that he needed to see the scary thing after all. I'm not sure. Whatever the reason, we ended up facing in the same direction, and I was still sitting on him (yeah!)
But there was definitely something ahead that was just NOT the one.
All I could see was trees. Yeah, the wind was making them rustle. It's not like rustling trees are an oddity, though. So I laughed at him, and urged him forward. We got a few more steps before he did the feet splaying drop and tippy toes thing again. Still nothing to be seen but trees.
I had my suspicions, though: on the other side of those trees, a bit further up and on the other side of yet another stone wall, occasionally, there have been... sheep. And once or twice... a LLAMA guarding them.
I let him stop and sit a bit, cogitate. But after he tried to grab a bit of grass, I figured he'd gotten over it enough to move forward. I also moved him a bit to the left, away from the suspicious trees and wall, as well - I didn't really need to make a point, I just wanted him moving forward.
And I'd been right: about 20 steps further, I was able to spot some little grey bodies through the trees - one or two of them staring back at us. There were quite a few sheep, but I didn't see a llama. One could have been there, I suppose - I was looking through leafy branches, after all - but I didn't think so.
Moving over a bit had been enough for Tico to relax - well, not completely, he still was throwing stink eyes over to our right - but he moved along with no further histrionics. We continued our circuit, and then headed back to the gate.
Opening and closing the gate was ho-hum, the adventure was over, and only the untacking, carrots and Kashi bars, tail washing (he wasn't thrilled - the water being cold - but he got over it), and being brought out for some hand grazing was left.
It was a good day.
