Club Stuff

March Meeting

Tuesday 16th, 7 pm (6 pm if you want to eat ahead of the meeting) 
at Baker's Square, Auburn
Speaker: Cali Jansen

Carried over from last month's postponement due to illness

“Does your horse have an attitude or physical glitch you would like to change or eliminate? Have you ever wondered if your horse is as well and happy as s/he can be? Are you both benefiting from your relationship as much as possible?  

Come join our group discussion hosted by Cali Jansen, a well-respected holistic health care practitioner and equine consultant. In addition to working with several hundred client's horses, Cali has had a lifetime of living and playing with her own horses. Her experience ranges from AERC, NATRC, pleasure trail, and packing, to dressage and jumping. One of her favorite personal accomplishments was the only 1906 mile Pony Express Race that was run in 32 consecutive riding days. So, she can relate to you and your desire to have fun and do well with your horse!   

Start thinking before the meeting, of all the details that influence your horse's (and ultimately, your) life. As we pose hypothetical and real concerns about horse's attitudes and performance, we will explore all possible causes. You might be surprised at what comes up!”

Club Dues:

• Dues are now due for 2004!  Single = $15   Family = $25
• I will collect at the meeting, or they can be mailed to the club PO box: 
  P.O. Box 3412
  Auburn, CA 95604.  
• I am going to purge the e-mail and s-mail lists by the end of March, so if people want to receive anything, they must pay the dues. We don't charge for back dues - so there is no penalty for missing past years, but I will drop them if they haven't paid by the end of march.

Stories

Merrylegs not so Merry!! - Update
The tale of the Hartman's new filly
Kristy Hartman

Keep sending those prayers, Megg needs them all!

Kristy, Mike & Megg Hartman

It’s a Numbers Game, Babe
Written with the Hope of Cushioning the Blow of  
the Math Involved in Breeding Endurance Horses
Cathy Richardson

Numbers, numbers, numbers. We face them every day. Just numbers. However, there is one number of some significance, and like it or not, that’s your personal age. Your age, your horse’s age. “Age is a number you put on your driver’s license,” is a mantra I’ve recited ever since I’ve had a driver’s license. More likely, ever since “age” seemed to matter. Not to me, of course, but to those always inquiring “How old are you?” I’m 54. And proud of it. Healthy and energetic, I’ve always answered that question without hesitation. And, I still do. Not until very recently has it occurred to me that my present age doesn’t matter so much as the age I’ll be (God willing and the creeks don’t rise) by the time I get that new-born foal on the trail. Yikes. Talk about rude awakenings!

It all started at my wedding in May of 2002, when I was the tender age of 52. My dear Cousin Bob, while watching his daughters frolic with the under-yearlings, asked, innocently I’m sure, “Cuz, how old will these guys (the foals, not his daughters) be when you start to ride them?” Five. “Uh-huh. And how old will they be when they do Tevis?” “Six or seven.” I could see by the glint in his eye that he was quickly doing the math. “Geez, Cuz, you’ll be an old lady before you can do Tevis on these horses!” Were he not my favorite cousin and were I not so flabbergasted, I’d have throttled him! Reality Check No. 1. 

Reality Check No. 2. My beloved, ageless, timeless purebred Arabian gelding will be 19 this summer. He’ll always be a 15-year-old in my heart. I keep telling people that I expect another ten good years out of that wonderful horse, and that will put him at (ye-gads), 29! Although not unheard of, I find it impossible to imagine Czar as a horse comin’ 30. I fell in love with Arabians when I was 16, and the purebred gelding I met, Dirass, was 17. I was absolutely astonished that a horse THAT OLD could have so much get-up-and-go!!! Imagine!!! Seventeen years old!! When Czar hit that “number” mark of 17, I about died. “Oh my heavens, he’s as old as Dirass was, and I thought that was the oldest horse I’d ever seen!!!”


Reality Check No. 3. My good friend Margretta and I have been riding together for many delightful miles and a handful of limited distance rides. We joke about doing endurance until we’re so old (she and I are of the same age group) that we’ll have to be hoisted onto our horses, and our crews will be able to take advantage of the handicapped parking spots. Ha-ha, ho-ho and hee-hee, we laugh at this thought over a couple of post-ride beers. That day that will never come. Right. 

Recently, she and I began discussing the age of our respective geldings and how we probably should be shopping for their replacements. No problem – my replacement is a beautiful 7/8 Arab gelding who will be three this July. Okay. We start him at five, and by the time he has some trail sense (he’s a jumpy boy) and is ready to do some LD rides, I’ll be (get out the calculators here) 57! Fifty-seven years old and riding a baby horse! 

Reality Check No. 4. Margretta wants to buy a foal out of my husband’s Tevis mare, Fille de Cailana. We breed Fille now, she foals in 2005, add the requisite five or so years to get her down the trail . . . Well, it doesn’t take Captain Math to tell us that we’ll be collecting our Social Security checks, grim though they may be, by the time the baby-to-be is toeing the starting line at an endurance ride. 

Talk about a wake-up call!!! When did this happen, people? We are young and vibrant, and we think that neither we nor our beloved horses age! What color IS the sun on our planet? To add insult to injury, or more properly, to add further reality checks, I just read that the Arabian Horse Association is considering adding a 50-and-over set of amateur classes. Another in-your-face indicator that we horse-lovers are aging. Anyone remember the Jack Benny classes for those 39 and over? (It did seem old at the time). Tell me, WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN? 

I suppose we should consider it a comfort that this phenomenon goes even beyond we horse people. Eppie’s Great Race, billed as the world’s oldest triathalon, has added a women’s category for 50 and over. The good news is that we can score some Big Wins before those 40-something kids (fast and furious) catch us. It’s a window of opportunity, for sure, but it has a strange feel, doesn’t it? Who’d a-thunk.

In this vein, I invite the Western States Trail Foundation people to add an additional top ten category, Ladies to Ride, 50 and over. The Ride & Tiers have long recognized and encouraged its “older” competitors by creating a century-plus category. When I first heard of this, I laughed out loud. I’m still not sure if this includes the horse’s age. One hundred years? Then, of course, I met Bob Edwards and Frank Lieberman, youngins, they, and when their ages were added together – well, it was over 100 years. A mere pittance of time in the big numbers game.

Numbers, numbers, numbers. You’re only as old as you feel, and when I look at Zoltaan, coming three years old and so full of life and vigor, I don’t see me starting him, which was my dream when he hit the ground in July of 2001. Before I knew the Endurance Horse Math. No, no, Nanette. I see a professional trainer’s name on this “dream.” My idea of starting my own colt has run dead-on into the Wall of Reality. I’m going to let the aforementioned trained professional take the initial spills. I may just stick with the “aged” geldings. They’re kind, and we understand each other.

I guess the point of this dissertation is: You kids out there, and you know who you are, start adding 7 years to your age right now, because that’s how “old” you’ll be when you get that cute filly or colt to the starting line at endurance rides. To mitigate this ugly reality, however, I want you to keep in mind that any day above ground is a good day. You laugh now. You won’t when you’re 54.

In closing, no matter what “number” we represent on the calendar of life, we have chosen the most wonderful sport in the equine world. Endurance riding lets us join the ranks of Julie Shur, forever young and the carrot at the end of our endurance sticks, and we can ride, ride and ride. As long as we wish. For me, I’m going to let the younger generation worry about starting the kids. I’m personally comfortable knowing that the horses on whom I’ll compete are ten years and over, as we speak, and someone else, younger and more pliable, has taken the hits for me.

As we plan for the future endurance foals to hit the ground, don’t be surprised when the math tells you that someone else may be taking him or her down the trail. Don’t be surprised, and now that you’ve had this warning, don’t go into cardiac arrest over the unfairness of it all!

Happy trails to you, young and “old.” And, remember, it’s all a numbers game, babe.

Saturday’s Short Ride in the Sunshine 
Becky Santucci

On Saturday I took my young horse, Spirit, out for a conditioning ride by myself and I decided I would go towards Granite Bay, connect with the American River Trail and then head towards Rattlesnake. About 10 miles in all. 

The first 30 minutes was questionable if we were going to make it all, with giant monsters everywhere he looked. After a while, he must have decided they wouldn't attack and finally settled down and began to enjoy the trail. 

When I decided on this portion of the trail to ride I knew it was known as the “Rocky Section”. I don't usually ride this part of the trail, so I forgot what it was like. It has many ups and down with lots of rocks! The first set of rocks we came upon, Spirit basically flung himself into them, stumbled and surprisingly made it through. Next time he slowed down considerably and made it through with only a couple minor stumbles. By the 5th or 6th set of rocks he was maneuvering through them like a pro. Every time we came to the rocky section he would slow down and pick his way through and then pick up the pace again. I realize now – as much as I dreaded going through the rocky sections in fear of a leg injury – how valuable those rocks and the steep ups and downs are as an educational tool. 

The weather was absolutely beautiful. Nice warm sunny day. I even worked a little on my tan. Spring is finally upon us. Even Spirit enjoyed the day and the sunshine. He likes to stop to bask in the sun and take in the sights. The lower canal trail seemed to be the popular trail for Saturday, as we saw many horses down below us on it. We even saw a few water skiers braving the chilly water. They are braver than me. There is no way I would get in that water this time of the year. The lake is really low right now with many islands out in the middle where you don't usually see them. 

All in all it was a wonderful ride. Let's pray the rain stays away for awhile. Maybe it was my imagination but it seemed like all the horses had a little skip in their step. Could it be they were celebrating getting out of the mud for awhile? Happy trails.

The Nightmare of Tevis - 2
Lucy Chaplin Trumbull

Despite the current pseudo-summer weather we're having right now, remember a few weeks ago when it poured and poured? My friend Dana and I decided to go ahead anyway, undaunted, and ride down Driver's Flat Road and along WST towards Ford's Bar.

We started our ride with much enthusiasm and hand-walked our horses all the way to the bottom of the hill. I was enthusiastic about this puny attempt at starting to condition myself for Tevis and feeling pretty smug at how easy it was to stride cheerfully down that hill. Of course, two days later when the leg muscle aches caught up, I saw the error of my ways. 

The short stretch of singletrack up to Francisco’s was somewhat schleppy, but easily navigable. Then onwards, along the road. The only time I've ridden this stretch of the WST before was either in the dark or in the daylight in high summer when the road is rock hard, stark white, and the heat reflects off it like a blow torch. So imagine my pleasure at the relatively soft going, together with green ferny additions along the banks at the side of the trail. Couple that with the mist coming off the river and it really was quite lovely down there.

The rain held off, except for a short sprinkle through the sunlight which made for a glitter effect in the air. I briefly debated trying to drag my raincoat out of my cantle bag, but decided against it (for reasons that aren't clear to me).

We hadn't really intended to go much further than the beginning of the singletrack, but time was on our side so we continued. On and on we went and I discovered that, yes, it wasn't my imagination remembering the last time I rode this trail – I really do not feel comfortable on that section of trail. I'm used to drop-offs - around here you have to get used to them fast or you won't be riding anywhere much. But the lack of trees or bushes to stop you falling down that 200' steep slope down to the river really bothers me. Why isn't there any vegetation on that stretch?? 

And of course, despite my best efforts to the contrary, my body involuntarily leaned away from the gaping chasm on my right, causing the horse to lean closer to it. Chin up. Look straight ahead far down the trail. Fake like you're having fun. Provo could evidently feel my disquiet, since he spooked at every LBB (little brown bird) that twitched in the undergrowth, which really helped.

And then it began to rain.

Not “slight drizzle” or “the pitter patter of raindrops”. Oh no. This was rain of the “torrential downpour” variety. Within seconds I was soaked. Provo, who doesn't “do” rain, stopped under the first tree and turned to me with a look of disgust on his face. Of course it was OK, I had my raincoat with me... safely in my cantle bag... awkwardly behind me... on that narrow trail... a nice rustly coat, bright in colour and bound to cause the pone plenty of enthusiasm when I hauled it out and tried to wrestle it on my sodden torso ...over my Camelbak... on that narrow trail... now made quite slippery...with the drop offs and no bushes or trees to catch a person plummeting from their over-reacting horse.

“We're nearly at Ford's Bar Road, I'm sure” I announced to Dana, who didn't particularly care since she showed that, as always, she is a grownup and was already wearing her raincoat. “Nearly there!” In reality, having never ridden the trail in this direction and having not ridden it at all in two years, I had no idea how much further it was to where the trail widens out to a reasonable and safe width.

We did make it to Ford's Bar Road and we were "nearly there" - relatively speaking. Even so, I was absolutely soaked and had to sit very still on my sheepskin saddle cover to make sure that no more water trickled in underneath me. And I did manage to wrestle my raincoat on – with Provo being totally blasé about the whole thing. <sigh>

On the way back, as we plodded back up Driver's Flat Road (which I'd like to point out, having counted the rings on the map, is a 1000' of climbing) I got so cold from sitting in wet clothes, that I ended up tailing Provo the last mile or so. Great Tevis training!

Hey-yulp!? 
Questions from Members...

Cinchy Horse via email: 
“Does anyone have any recommendations on cures for a very cinchy young horse?”

“Horses ribs/intercostal muscles are in spasm and withers are probably out of alignment - if horse also went over backwards other things are probable out or sore - I can help”. April Battles, Equine Energy/Body work, [530] 823-7321

The aim is to get the newsletter online on Friday before the meeting.