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Looking into the jaws of death.....Pt. 1
by M.E.(Bunny) Eastveld
It started out as your usual day...crawl out of bed to the kitchen, drink 3 cups of coffee, smoke a couple of cigarettes, open your eyes...you know, routine. Next on the agenda after the ritual read in the john, barn-cleaning. Since we have about thirty horses in our barn (capacity 38), there goes the morning.
The big bright spot in the day was to come at around 6 PM. We had a 'job' at the Hitch'n Post. We were to take 4 riders and horses to the 'Hitch', to chase the train down, arrest someone and then have dinner. These are fun 'jobs', and there's a lot of competition amongst our boarders and riders as to who will be going on the rides.
The Hitch'n Post is a neat place to go. Located in rural Manitoba, Canada, just outside of Winnipeg, it is a country barbecue, as well as a large party facility. They do weddings, corporate parties, etc. Often, with the corporate parties, in the summertime, the corporation hires buses or, (even better), The Prairie Dog Central, and riders from the LB Ranch. Our job is to chase the buses or train, stop it and arrest some pre-designated dignitary or boss. The prisoner is then escorted to the jailhouse, inside the 'Hitch' and held for bail.
The Prairie Dog Central is a refurbished steam locomotive, which runs from Winnipeg to Grosse Isle, MB. It is quite a popular tourist attraction. The railway crossing where our riders stop the train is located on the far side of a rather busy single lane highway. (Thinking seriously for a moment...this job could be hazardous to your health). The people are usually very surprised and pleased to see the riders coming at the train, (toy) guns out and waving around in the air, and we usually get a lot of cheering and applause for the show. Especially when the sheriff arrests the desperado.
Our ranch has been working in concert with the "Hitch" to carry these "jobs" out for approximately 10 years. Our riders are usually some of our boarders, and me and Les (the boss). Usually, on a first holdup, a rider rides one of our barn horses who's literally been there, done that, and isn't skittish about the traffic or the train. By the end of the season, the horses are all used to it, and usually are fairly well-behaved, but the first job of the summer, they're still feeling the freshness of spring.
This day it was the opening of the summer season, and our Ranch's (and Justin's) first train for the summer. The horses were all fresh, and eager to go, Justin included. He's done this many times in the past, but due to a shoulder injury the year before, we hadn't used him much last summer. (mental note: don't do this again...don't leave it a year before taking snorty horse to 'Hitch'). The other thing about Justin is that just because he's been there, done that, doesn't mean he likes it. So, Les and Blazer and me and Justin were assigned to the "other (field) side of the tracks", 'justin case'. (PUN) (Okay so it wasn't funny!). One side of the train tracks has a nice wide ditch next to a single lane highway, and the "other side" has a barley field. If your horse decides that it's time to leave as the train is coming, at least you can steer him into the field, and likely calm him down (after a mile or 2) and bring him back to the train. This is a plus, because many horses on their "maiden" holdup end up in that barley field, and so, there's a decreased risk of being struck by a car or truck, like on the other (road) side.
As I expected, (and here's a good point - don't expect the worst from your horse, you'll likely get it!), Justin was fine 'til we heard the whistle of the train coming. Then, he didn't want to cross the tracks (they were vibrating), but, of course,(with a little persuasion), he went. When the train actually got to our run-down position, he was right into the wild west routine. Snorting, trying to race Blazer, neck arched, fancy prancing and side-jumping away from the train at a full run. (Oh joy and rapture unforseen!) This, actually is extremely showy and attractive if you're watching it, but if you're riding it out, it is unacceptable behaviour on the part of the horse. After all, it's not like he's never been up close to the train before. It requires a velcro seat in the saddle, and a lot of alertness and muscle (both arms AND legs) to keep him beside that train. (Since one is using so many big muscles, I wonder if this would qualify for aerobic exercise?)
The bells and whistles on the train get Justin side-jumping at a dead run, here we are next to the train, next stride there we are...8 feet away. But wait...it gets better. The worst thing is when they apply those hissy steam brakes. You'd think that horse (and, most horses) are going to launch themselves like a rocket to the moon. Since I don't allow Justin to rear for any reason, he must be content with a few good kicks behind him, (just to warn that train not to come any closer), and usually, a couple of good crow hops. (It's a good thing that we eat dinner after all the aerobatics).
On this particular evening, Justin was particularly impressed with both me, and the train. (NOT). When he started into his crow hopping ballet, I just calmly swatted him across the butt with my quirt. (This always makes for a happy horse, believe me....). He and Les's horse, Blazer are stall mates, and quite competitive with one another. I was digging in my butt bones like crazy (I have the callus to prove it), but to no avail, he kept trying to race Blazer. I kept my shoulders back like Art taught me, and I cranked him hard with the bit. (I know, never pull on your horse's mouth...fine in theory...) Finally, the train stopped, the sheriff went on, got the designated prisoner and we were ready to ride back to the 'Hitch'.
As me and Les and the horses rode across the tracks in front of the train, the two other riders and their horses, seing a break in the highway traffic, scooted across the road. (Point of etiquette, when riding with others, all horses should line up at the side of the road, and cross simultaneously, under control, when safe to do so.) There were still about twenty passengers standing on the ground in front of us, between us and the train, when I heard it. Our horses were facing the train, which was starting up with its' bells, whistles and steam chugs, and the people about 5 feet in front of us were blissfully unaware of the possible wreck about to happen.
What I heard, and turned my head to confirm, was a highway transport tandem trailer hurtling down the highway towards us. There was no time to get across the highway before it would pass us (speeding). We were on the shoulder of the highway (gravel, thank the lord), and had nowhere to go. With those people there, and the truck coming up behind us, we were blocked in. Justin began to 'fret'. (That's putting it mildly!). Blazer, who has had absolutely no dressage training was doing a beautiful piaffe, while Les held him in place. Justin was trying to jump backwards onto the highway to escape the train. I could imagine us as the hood ornament on that Mack truck.
I held him back with the reins, and pushed him forward at the same time, with my legs. As the truck passed, I felt it's cold breeze on the back of my neck, and almost lost my hat to the suction that it created. I screamed NO!!! in my mind, my eyes tightly closed. (Note: your life does NOT pass before you when you face death, or maybe it just wasn't our time). I opened my eyes, looked at the road and said to Les: "Let's get the hell across NOW!" Which is just what we did. We had survived that close call, and it truly was a miracle, because when we got back to the yard to unsaddle, I found out something that if I had known, I would have fixed before we ever went out to that train.
End of part 1.
The Jaws of Death Pt. 2 - The Discovery
by M.E.(Bunny) Eastveld
When we arrived back in the yard at the 'Hitch', I was a bit teed off at the spectacle I'd made of myself, unable to control my otherwise, sweet, gentle, well-broke horse. (Of course, it didn't help that he spooked at the gate, and again beside the barn when the dogs started barking). So, I was ready to practically kill that horse. (Or at least sell him to the meat man for 50 cents a pound - hey...that's $600.00). We rode up to the fence and I dismounted. Les asked me if my throat hurt. I looked at him like he was nuts, and asked why he'd ask that. "Well," he said, "after that scream you let out back at the crossing...". (I had thought that the scream had remained inside my head, obviously not).
The people from the train came over, and asked Les and I to join the other two riders in front of the 'Hitch', so that they could take pictures. I told Les to go on over, I was too annoyed at Justin (not to mention embarrassed). He said no, it's tradition for the posse to have pictures taken and let people pet the horses noses. Well, I figured that if I had to get back on that big dork, he was definitely going to behave himself.
So, gathering up my tattered sense of pride, and my shredded nerves, I got back up there and rode over, with Les and Blazer to stand in front of the 'Hitch' and have my picture taken. What a surprise when one woman, who'd witnessed every moment of my humiliating scene at the highway, came up and said what a beautiful mover Justin was, and how well-controlled. (Okay, maybe HE was the well-controlled one and I wasn't...food for thought...). Another lady came up, petted my now calm, quiet, "big-dog-with-hard-feet", and declared that this was the "feisty one" and how beautiful and spirited he was. (Do I hear Spoiled, anyone??) Things were getting better and better. As my mood improved, so did Justin's and he posed and mugged for the cameras shamelessly. (Justin and Blazer have been 'shot' by me and others so much, that if I want to take a picture of any other horse, and they're anywhere within earshot, when the motorwind goes off, I have a pair of hams, posing, ears up.....worse than kids).
After all the adulation, we made it back to the trailer. I got off Justin and loosened his cinch. I undid his throatlatch, and horror of horrors, he dropped the bit from his mouth. I hadn't even lifted or touched the crown piece. I had been riding that horse with little or no control through the reins and bit. (ON A TRAIN JOB!!!!!) Yes, as I said in part one... this could definitely be hazardous to your health! But then, I thought for a moment and realized that, here I was, using (on the advice of someone else, not Art or Les) a very severe curb. The curb bit that I had been using was a high port, sweet iron, but very thin (approx..3/8") mouthpiece with 8" almost straight shanks. (We're talking mega leverage here). Yes, it was a loose cheek curb, but....I was punishing that horse everytime I rode him. If the leather had not stretched on my "good" headstall, I'd never have known that Justin didn't require that much leverage. (Though the other person's horse was nigh on to impossible to stop or turn without such a severe bit). I had bought it when I had trouble making him listen, a couple of years previously. He had been okay with it, so I took it for granted that I'd found the right bit for him.
I had been reading about bits and had recently purchased a 4" shank, loose-cheek, 5/8"thick mouthpiece, medium port bit, made of sweet iron, and twice as expensive as the instrument of torture that I had been using. I had been afraid to try it, you know, runaways, etc.. (The more severe bits do have their place in reining classes when you are looking for crisp stops, rollbacks, turns, etc., but not for everyday use). Well, after apologizing all over the place to Justin, for mistreating him all this time, and praising him for going so well, (especially since he really is somewhat terrified of some aspects of the train), I resolved to do something to remedy this situation.
I tend to feed into Justin's spooks, myself. I am a nervous rider, and Justin is a quiet, laid back horse, but put the two of us together, and sometimes it's a free-for-all. He plays headgames with me.."Are you still awake up there?" And, I am not yet as consistent about humiliating him when he jumps at nothing. But, I had to do something to fix the problem, and to change bits at the same time.
Since that train incident, though, my trust and respect for my horse and his feelings and comfort have increased a thousandfold. We tried the short-shanked, thicker mouthpiece on him, and I had no trouble from day one. Now, he'll reach around and put his head down to reach for the bit when I bridle him. ( I let one of our boarders ride him one day, with the admonishment to keep her hands down, and she came back from the ride impressed at how easily he handles. She also told me that she's never had to bend down to bridle a horse). She's about 5'9" tall, and I'm only 5'5", Justin is about 15 and a half hands high, to 15.3 depending on when he was last trimmed.
I've learned to always check my tack before going out on a ride, I realize that this is basic, but, as everyone knows, we don't always do things according to the book. I never exert steady pressure with both reins at the same time, and I don't "hawk" on his mouth. I can now ride him with just about any headgear, with body language and finger movement only. I've gotten much more confident and have learned, through body language to better communicate with my horse. We have become a team, now. And, instead of being a hood ornament on a Mack truck, Justin is my bareback lesson horse for the first lesson I give to beginners.
The most important lesson that I learned was, (as Art would say), my problems that day, stemmed from rider error, and rider nervousness. If you go out to ride, you've got to be the leader, of your herd of two (you and your horse). If you show nervousness, then that horse is going to think: "wow, there must be something really bad out there, the boss is wound up". This, in turn leads to the spooks and runaways that sometimes occur with horses. The rider error part, I've already castigated myself for and resolved to try harder in the future to be the perfect rider for my perfect horse. I'm still trying, but I think Justin appreciates it, he's much more willing to accept my judgement now that I'm developing some "horse sense".
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