Ridin', Reinin' and Writin'

"I Would Have Thought They Would Have Been Lined Up!"

Posted by Sharon Labels: Rainbow Mountains, trail riding, Tweedsmuir Park, Wildwood Legacy Lace, Wildwood Mistral, Wildwood Reining Horses

     I first started planning a trail ride in the Rainbow Mountains of Tweedsmuir Park in 2009. I asked two couples to go with me but several weeks before departure date in August, one couple backed out and the second couple was waffling. Plans went sideways anyway when wildfires closed the park. In 2010, wildfires again closed the park and I shelved the whole idea until last winter, when a young man I had given riding lessons to contacted me. He asked if I would be trail riding in the summer and if he could go with me. I told him about the Rainbows. "We'll do it," I said.

     After our conversation I brought up all the information I had on my computer – notes, maps, photos – and started making plans for a ride in August. Some time in the winter a second person approached me about riding with me. I thought I had a plan B but she soon decided it would be too much for her.

     As the months passed and still no one confirmed that he/she wanted to ride with me, I branched out. I asked two or three friends but due to commitments, costs or lack of interest, no one took me up on the offer. A Facebook post hinting at a once-in-a-lifetime trail ride adventure yielded a couple of "I would love to go with you's" that fizzled out. If I was going to see the Rainbows on horseback, I would be riding alone. Determined, I proceeded with my plans. I studied maps carefully and decided on a route but since I had not ridden these trails, I could not be sure my timeline would be accurate. I had originally planned a four day ride when I thought there would be two or three of us but I decided three days would be enough by myself. For safety reasons, I bought a DeLorme InReach so I could stay in touch with family and friends. I watched the weather forecast for the best possible three or four consecutive days and finally settled on August 19-21. I would be riding Mistral, a 6 year old mare who had been on only one trail ride (Where she was lost in the wilderness for five days. See Lost in the Potatoes) and Legacy would be the pack horse.

     I drove to the trailhead on the afternoon of the 18^th, settled Mistral and Legacy for the night with hay bags and myself in the camper of my horse trailer. The next morning, I saddled and packed up (sounds fast but in fact took me quite a while by myself), slung a back pack on me with emergency items (in case I got separated from the horses) and my camera and headed into "unknown-to-me" territory.

     A sign at the trailhead warned of bears – no kidding! I had belled Mistral hoping the steady clanging would ward them off and, for the first time in my life, I had bear spray but I knew it would be a wreck if we came across a grizzly. Mistral, especially, was on looking for something to happen. I will never know what she saw on her five days lost in the wilderness last year but it's safe to say she saw grizzly. The experience changed her. I knew she was having déjà vous moments.

     I followed a rocky trail along what might be East Branch Creek with no difficulty though light forest sprinkled with fireweed with very little change in elevation. Mistral was fresh but the day was warm and sunny and I was relaxed and eager with anticipation. I woke from my reverie with a jolt when Mistral leaped into the air. (This was the first of a few times on the ride that a lifetime of riding saved a serious wreck – I stayed in the middle of the horse!) At first I thought Legacy's lead rope had slipped under Mistral's tail but that was not the problem. A stumpy tree had scratched her belly and apparently she thought something had bit her! I might thank her for the wake up call though because I discovered my oilskin coat, tied behind the saddle, had fallen off. I had to back track and pick it up (almost back at the trailhead).

     A sign (almost missed it because it was laying flat on the ground) indicated the junction of Octopus and Crystal Lake trails. I turned right to Crystal Lake.The unmarked trail wound around through the trees and over small streams for a few kilometers. I was tracking the trail on my GPS but was very conscious of not losing it in the bush. A few times I had to look closely as there had not been any recent horse traffic. I also worried about the bogs and once I stepped Mistral into one. Fortunately, she came right out and I found a drier way through. According to the GPS, we gained about 700 feet to a semi open area and, a short while later, a small lake where I stopped for lunch.

     The weather was perfect – sunny but not too hot – and, since I had skipped breakfast, I wolfed down a sandwich and coffee from the thermos. It was here, for the first time of several that I wished I could share this moment with someone. Instead, I sent a message on InReach that I was okay.

Lunch break

After lunch the mares and I followed a sometimes faint but reasonably easy to follow trail with ever amazing vistas opening up all around us. The semi-open terrain was much more to my liking than the trees and I was beginning to see where I was going and what was ahead. A few cairns marked the hard-to-read trail and once in a while an orange ribbon was tied to a tree. I felt like I had a better chance of avoiding a grizzly encounter when I could see more around me.

I knew I should reach Lester's camp before long and had no problem recognizing it when we did. It would have been a great place to camp had the timing been right as it is sheltered and boasts a bear locker and a toilet (open air kind), water and grass near for horses. I tied Mistral and Legacy, finished my coffee, checked the InReach and took a few photos.

I am going to try to describe this experience now but words will no doubt fall short. First, it is rather humbling to be so insignificant in such vast wilderness, which could be unsettling but in fact for me is deeply peaceful. To be surrounded by nature, indeed, wrapped in it, is therapeutic in a way that multiple visits to a psychiatrist is not. The stress is simply washes off. Combined with that, though, is vulnerability - I am at the mercy of the elements I so love and admire. I am never more aware that my horses are my legs and how much I need them.

It is the responsibility when I ride alone that eventually exhausts me mentally – I am 100% responsible for 100% of the elements of the ride 100% of the time. That means I must find the trail, stay on the trail, keep a keen eye out for possible problems and/or wildlife, keep the horses safe day and night and take great care to not be thrown for any reason. That being said, seeing that pristine lake, that sparkling stream or that snow-capped peak for the first time is a feeling like no other. It is a privilege.

I stopped for the night at a little lake that had grazing for the mares. I would have liked to ride farther but according to information I could glean from internet sources there would not be a place to camp for several kilometers. I saw that horses had been tied at a small clump of trees so I tied Mistral and Legacy and put my little tent up. Although I have in the past hobbled my horses to self graze, in light of the problem last year and the fact that I was alone, I did not. Thank goodness the flies were not too bad at the edge of that lake where the grass was! I gave them a half hour, ate, and took them back for more before tying them up for the night. Both were belled to scare away bears. This is when the trouble began – the mares would not settle down!

I cannot say how many times I got up in the night to check horses. Finally, I hobbled both. I knew there was more chance of them escaping if they were agitated and that truly worried me. Mistral had been on high alert all day, no doubt remembering her "lost" time in the bear country last year. And they were probably cold and not completely satisfied with their dinner. For whatever reason, they trashed my sleep. (I did appreciate an awesome night sky, though. The stars really are brighter when you are closer to them!)

And I was cold even with long underwear, sweats and my oilskin coat on top of the sleeping bag. Then I remembered the foil "emergency blanket" that had been in my back pack for years. (I don't think I ever believed it would work!) What did I have to lose? I opened it and wrapped it around me. Gradually I felt heat - wonderful! Around 5:00 AM, I slept for an hour or so, comfortably warm for the first time in the long night.

I woke to a cloudy sky, quiet horses in their hobbles and ice on the water in the basin. I needed coffee! I downed a couple of cups, then grazed Mistral and Legacy. Then came the arduous job of breaking camp and packing up – by myself. My aching shoulder didn't help – lifting the boxes on Legacy especially – but I got it done.

I had had lots of time to think in the long hours of wakefulness. I had planned a circle ride going to Crystal Lake, then Rainbow cabin on this day and back via Octopus Lakes. I knew now that I might not be able to get back to the trailhead in one day from Rainbow cabin, in good part because it took me so long to pack up in the morning. I could take an extra day though if I let my people know at home with an InReach message. But my shoulder was getting progressively worse. What if I could not pack up? And the weather was changing. It worried me that the horses were so ready to leave me too. If they ever got loose… A bear walking in to camp would mean a wreck that could result in me being horseless and I was pretty sure there was even more possibility of bears where I was headed – down in to the MacKenzie Valley. I decided the sensible thing to do was to be happy with what I had done and try to stay safe. I would head back the second day.

Not before I had seen Crystal Lake though. I calculated that I could go forward to Crystal Lake and still make it back to the trailhead. It would be a long day but if I didn't stop much...

It was cold and windy. Whereas the first day I rode in a tank top, this day I rode in underwear and my oilskin. As we climbed to the barren highlands, the wind blew harder. The sky was threatening rain but thank goodness we did not get wet! Of course the cold wind jazzed up the mares and they wanted to keep moving. I didn't want to get off because I didn't want to have to mount multiple times with backpack, camera and my damaged shoulder. Once my cap blew off, necessitating a dismount I had not planned. I jammed it in my pocket and went bare headed so I wouldn't have to get it again.

The scenery was incredible but all photos I took from Mistral's back. What I would give for a photo of the mares and I with this beautiful back drop, impossible of course by myself. There was not a tree to tie to so I could handle the camera without the horses. I regret that I could not take advantage of such wonderful photo opportunity but thankful for those I did get. Another time? Maybe.

The trail across the highlands was really not there at all. If it had not been for the many cairns (thank you, hikers!), I would have been lost. I swear even Mistral started looking for the next cairn! I did find Crystal Lake and, for a moment, considered continuing on through Boyd Pass and down to Rainbow cabin. I really wanted to see that cabin. However, for all the reasons aforementioned, I knew I should turn back. I was incredibly tired and two more days with unknown problems….

Crystal Lake

Mistral was a handful when I turned around! Apparently she thought we should "get out of Dodge" as fast as we could! For almost all the way back to the trailhead, I could not ride her on a loose rein. Poor Legacy, trying to keep up.

I stopped where we had spent the night for lunch, then headed down the trail again. I had tracked our trail with GPS but I didn't need it. I was reminded once again how well a horse remembers the trail. Mistral knew exactly where we had travelled the day before, even on which side of a tree we had gone. We arrived back at the trailer around 6:00 PM - tired, a little sore but healthy. The mares thought it looked like home.

As I untacked and unpacked, I thought about the ride and what all those that I had asked to go had missed. Again, I wished I could have shared the experience with a friend or two. And I thought about the short-but-to-the-point statement of a man whose business it is to take groups into the Rainbows when I told him I was alone because I couldn't find anyone to go with me.

"I would have thought they would have been lined up!", he said.

Indeed. But we both have to remind ourselves that priorities are not the same for everyone. For me, this is the ultimate experience but for others, it is not. Or is it just not worth the risk?

2 comments

Lost in the Potatoes

Posted by Sharon Labels: Legacy, Potato Range, Tatlayoko Lake, trail riding, Wildwood Legacy Lace, Wildwood Mistral, Wildwood Reining Horses

Not a leaf stirred. Not a bird chirped. Not a cone dropped in the forest in those moments we rested on the steep, rocky trail. But for the steady rhythm of Legacy's heart against my leg, the soft expanding and contracting of her rib cage and the occasional licking as she moistened her mouth on the bit, the stillness would have been absolute. Grateful for the presence and strength of my little bay mare, I waited for her to air up so we might continue climbing.

The adventure had started well. On August 8, 2014, Lynne and I happily tacked up at Tatlayoko Lake for a 3 ½ day pack trip into the Potato Range. Lynne rode her good gelding, Free. I rode Mistral, my 5 year old mare and led Legacy, packed. All three are well-bred, trained reining horses.

Tatlayoko Lake

We planned only to ride to the top and overnight in a rancher's cabin. The three-hour plus ride, an elevation gain of over 3000 feet, would test the condition of our horses but the weather was perfect, the horses healthy and Lynne and I eager and excited. By nightfall we had grazed the horses, feasted on Salisbury steak and mashed potatoes and tucked ourselves in our sleeping bags on the wood benches. The comforting soft clang of the bells on my horses assured us all was well with our companions.

August 8 - Mistral and Legacy when just after we arrived at cabin

August 8 - Free (at back), Mistral and Legacy grazing at the cabin

The next day, under warm sunny skies, we rode the historic Potato Trail to the south end of the Potato Range, taking in ever-changing, spectacular scenery and stopping for a late lunch above Fish Lake, our destination for the night.

Mistral and I leading Legacy with our supplies

Lynn and Free in Gopher Basin

August 9 - Above Fish Lake

We set up our little tent beside the lake, grazed the horses, and then tied them to trees since there were not any tall enough to high line. We shared the meadows with a few cattle on their summer range but, thankfully, the grizzly, cougar and wolves that inhabit the area didn't make an appearance.

August 9 - Horses grazing as we set up camp at Fish Lake.

"Super Moon" rising over Fish Lake

Lynne went to bed early but I stayed up to watch the moon rise, one day shy of full "Super Moon". I was not disappointed although the photos I took don't live up to what I witnessed. Once, during the night, wild clanking of the bells woke us and we leaped out of the tent to see the horses, obviously startled but still tied, staring into the bush. At 6:00 a bellow from a bull woke me again. Apparently we were camped on a trail he wanted to take. I shooshed the cattle back but, awake now, grabbed the camera and took a few photos of steam rising from the lake while I waited for Lynne to get up. After an hour or so, I decided to graze the cold and hungry horses. Since Free would not have been happy if I left him tied, I turned him loose with the shank dragging as Lynne had done the night before (because his hobbles were soring him), hobbled and belled Mistral and lead Legacy away from camp.

August 10 - I wonder if that's the cow that started all of this?

The horses had grazed a half hour or so when it happened. A lone Charolais cow skirted the trees above the grazing horses, distraught and looking for her calf. I saw her only a few seconds before Free who, for reasons known only to him, trotted briskly to the cow.

I just had time to think "That isn't a very good idea," when the cow burst out of the trees. Free turned and bolted. Mistral, in her hobbles, lunged after him. Lynne, now up, could only watch as they raced through the trees above our camp and over the hill. I made my way back with Legacy, now agitated that the others had left, quickly saddled her (and yes, I was plenty upset because I know how bad this scenario can be...) and rode down the back trail. When I didn't see tracks, I returned and searched areas around the lake. Failing to find any trace of the pair, I packed for a longer ride. I suspected Mistral had broken her hobbles but Free's dangling lead shank, sure to get tangled in brush, worried me.

August 10 - Lynne took this photo of Legacy and I returning from our first searches. We now know Mistral and Free did run into the trees, then bushwhacked until they got on the trail a few km north.

This shows the vastness of the area Mistral and Free were lost in.

"I'll have to ride down the back trail," I told Lynne." If I don't find them down the trail a bit, I won't be back tonight." Lynne had an InReach, a satellite communicator, and after a crash course in using it, she gave it to me since I was tracking the horses. I told her there was a cabin a short distance away and how to get there but she said she would stay at camp in case the horses returned.

"I hope I see you in a couple of hours," Lynne said. She didn't see me for more than two days.

I picked up Free and Mistral's tracks (and the mark of the dragging lead shank) about three kilometers down the trail and all the way to the open meadow west of the cabin where we had spent the first night. I felt hopeful – obviously they were headed back to the trailers. I checked the cabin and when they were not there, started down, about a two-hour ride. My optimism evaporated. I didn't see another track.

When I got to the trailers, I immediately looked up a phone and made some calls. That's how I met Len and Joanna Knight, who live at Tatlayoko Lake. Then, and in the following days, they provided a base contact, a phone and a lifeline to local connections.

I was convinced Free and Mistral had turned toward the lake (and the trailers) when they came off the trail into the meadow at the top but somehow had missed the trail down and tried bushwhacking. If they did that, Free's halter shank could easily tangle in the brush and stop them. I hoped, though, that they would find their way back to the trailers during the night. When they were not there in the morning, I saddled Legacy and headed up to the top again. Much of the trail wound through heavily forested terrain, grizzly habitat. Once Legacy abruptly halted, alert, ears forward, and I yelled. A loud crashing in the bush confirmed what I suspected – a bear was close by. After that, I sang "The Bear Went Over the Mountain" for a kilometer or so

Legacy, not in condition for this much riding, was tired. I stopped several times to let her blow. Those tender, bonding moments alone in the bush encouraged me to "dig deeper" for strength – if Legacy could do this, so could I.

As I came out of the trees at the top, I eagerly looked for two sorrels grazing the meadow where I had lost tracks the day before. Nothing. I knew I must rest Legacy for a few hours so I continued on to the cabin and unsaddled. There, I communicated with the Knights and friends from home on InReach to coordinate search efforts. My first priority was rescuing Lynne, who had already spent one night in a tent in grizzly country. I had been told before I left the trailer that Alex Bracewell (Bracewell Alpine Wilderness Adventures), who took guided tours into the Potatoes from the other end, would pick her up (a huge relief) and was waiting for confirmation of that. Again with the help of the satellite communicator, I learned Jordan Grier and Pat Jasper would arrive the next day to assist us in our efforts to find our horses.

August 11 - I took this photo when I searched the slope to the crest above Tatlayoko Lake

August 11 - I took this photo from the cabin the night I stayed there.

I searched several places in the area in the afternoon and evening, still convinced the missing pair were close since they had not taken the trail down. Then I grazed and watered Legacy and tied her to a tree by the cabin. Even though I had not found Mistral and Free I felt somehow close to them on the mountain. I hoped they would come to Legacy in the night.

August 11 - Legacy tied by the cabin.

My strength was starting to wane a bit now. I forced myself to eat and drink but I didn't have much food and wasn't sleeping well. After a fitful few hours on a wood bench in the cabin, I made the worst coffee ever on the wood stove and rode the area again – still no clues and no response from Legacy either, who I counted on to alert me if they were near.

Jordan and Pat arrived around noon with extra horses. This is when I found out Lynne had not been picked up – now two days in the wilderness alone! With this information, we quickly ate the lunch they brought and continued down the Potato Trail to Lynne's camp by Fish Lake.

August 12 - Jordan and Pat arriving with extra horses.

Lynne was not at the camp when we got there but a note confirmed that Alex Bracewell had taken her to the wilderness cabin I had told her about. We packed up the camp on Legacy and I rode one of Jordan's horses to the cabin.

My reunion with Lynne was bathed in relief. She assured me she was fine but had been worried about me.

"I thought you were laying along the trail somewhere," she said.

"You had the hardest job," I told her, "Just waiting with no information."

Lynne said the cows comforted her. They were around the tent the first morning but there was not a cow in sight when she woke up the second day.

When Alex picked her up, he cleared that up for her. "Did you see the big grizzly?" he asked.

"No," Lynne said, "But I guess that explains why the cows disappeared!"

Lynne had handled her time alone very well. She told me she kept up a camp routine to keep busy; she studied the little cow herd and their habits; she watched the fish jump in the lake and counted tadpoles (Thousands…). I know she would have much rather been searching with me but she knew how to survive. Still, the situation was dangerous and one of many times luck was on our side in those trying days.

From Bracewell's cabin we descended to the lake again – at the south end this time, a two hour ride, loaded all five horses in Jordan's trailer and arrived back the north end at 10:00 PM. After unloading Legacy, out rescuers drove home to Hanceville.

Lynne, Sharon, Legacy and tack were now back where we started – without Mistral and Free. The next morning we re-grouped. Get the word out – posters, contacts up and down the road, phone calls in case the horses came down somewhere else – and keep searching. We tried to hire a small helicopter to fly the area but most were out fighting wildfires. Mike King was flying over every day and he checked the Potato Range every time. We talked to a Clifford Schuk, a local rancher, about tracking and he agreed to help. One thing we knew for sure – we were not going to quit! Legacy, however, needed to rest. I had a commitment at home so we decided I would take Legacy home and Lynne would stay with Len and Joanna at the lake. And this is when the full force of the last few days hit me – when I was going to leave the lake without Mistral. Backing the rig out of a tight spot with well-intentioned people yelling directions triggered a melt-down. – everything from "I can't do anything right!" to "I know she's dead!". I cried all the way to Tatla Lake, the only time I cried during the entire ordeal.

On the 14^th, Lynne and I talked several times on the phone. I organized things at home with the plan to return on the 15^th. Clifford took his quad part way up the trail, then walked. He told us Mistral and Free were trying to return to the lake (and our trailers) but were probably stopped by grizzlies foraging on the slope. This was the area I had stayed in for 1 ½ days with no sign of them but I suspect Free's lead shank was tangled until he broke it, which may account for the fact they didn't come to Legacy when we were there. Lynne and I agreed we had to get back up to the area as soon as possible! Lynne was trying to rent/borrow a horse in the area and said she would start up in the morning if I was not there. With that information, I packed up as soon as I could, loaded Legacy, and drove back to Tatlayoko Lake, arriving at 1:00 AM so I would be there when Lynne was ready to leave in the morning.

I rose early and packed up Legacy to go up the mountain again but there was no sign of Lynne. I had no means of communicating with her so I left a note and pointed Legacy up that mountain for the third time. This time I buckled the cow bell around her neck. It would serve dual purpose – to ward off grizzlies and to alert Mistral and Free, who were familiar with the sound. I was prepared to stay on the mountain two days to search and just be there for them to come to. The long term plan was to organize a group to go for a week if that did not work. (Later, on Facebook, a friend commented "I knew you would never give up.", which is how I felt but I suppose the time could have come when we would have to...)

I stopped several times on the ascent to listen and even veered off the trail to search for tracks in the trees on the slope. When I reached the open meadow where I had lost their tracks before, Legacy showed no sign of interest in anything besides putting one foot in front of the other, the bell clanging in time with her footfalls. Then, to my right, I sensed movement. I turned my head and what I saw I did not believe – two chromed-up sorrels racing through the brush to Legacy and I! Heads high, manes flying, they tore down the long incline with abandon, with joy and, I think, with much relief. I knew as they ran toward me that they were all right. My chest swelled, my heart pounded and all I could say was, "Oh, my God!" over and over. It is vision that will be forever etched in my memory.

I took this photo on the 11th from almost the exact spot Mistral and Free ran from when they came to me on the 15th. Where were they? In the bush with Free's shank hopelessly tangled in trees?

Mistral and Free were a little buzzed. They milled around Legacy as if they couldn't stand still. Free no longer dragged his long black shank and Mistral's hobbles were gone. The bell was still around her neck though and they both still wore their halters. Free had some marks on his face from the halter, testimony to his struggle with the dragging lead shank and both had scratch marks from trees on their sides but they were okay other than being super alert. I snapped the shank on Mistral's halter and, with Free following, started down the mountain. About half way down I met Lynne (on Sabina Harris' nice little mare) and Clifford.

"They're okay, Lynne," I hollered when I saw them ahead of me on the trail.

The inner strength Lynne had called on for the preceding five days weakened as she dismounted and approached Free. On Legacy, with Mistral in hand, I watched her attempting to keep emotion in check. I lived that moment with her, a moment we had prayed for for five days.

We are acutely aware of how lucky we are to have these special horses back unharmed and are grateful for the many people who helped us achieve that - kind, caring Chilcotin people who put their own lives on hold to help us. I am also grateful to my patient, gutsy mare for carrying me close to 100 km searching for Mistral and Free in unforgiving terrain. Legacy has always been special to me since she is the fifth generation of a strong maternal line of Wildwood horses but the connection is deeper now. If I close my eyes, I am on her back on the Potato Range again. I can feel her muscles under me. I can smell the sweat. I can hear the clacking of her shoes on the rocks. And I can see her head bobbing, ears flicking. It's a memory I cherish.

4 comments

What Was I Thinking?

Posted by Sharon

Several of my horses run in a field below my house of about 50 acres of bush, banks and pasture. Since I ride some of them every day, I hope they will climb the hill to the house so I can easily catch the one (or more) that I want. Of course that does not always happen. Then I must walk down the hill to catch them and bring them up.

Walking down the hill is not bad; walking up is another story. It's a steep climb and frankly I could do without the extra exercise so I choose a horse who is gentle enough to ride bareback with a halter and ride up the hill. The rest follow, I halter the one I want at the top and proceed with my day.

For the past few years, the horse I always caught up to ride bareback was Legacy if she was in the pasture. This year, because she was not and the four mares grazing the bottom pasture were all young, I had to walk the hill leading one up.

One thing you should know about me is that I hate to walk leading a horse so that got old pretty fast. One day I tried Sapphire, looping the halter over her neck and jumping on from a rock. (After all, I could slip off easy if things went wrong...)

The reason I chose Sapphire was not because I thought she was quiet enough to hop on bareback with a halter but because I knew the rest of the herd was not. What a great surprise - she was quite amenable to the idea. She was, as a matter of fact, almost proud to be the one leading the rest up the hill.

It's a comfortable feeling wrapping my legs around Sapphire's warm body as she confidently follows the trail through the bush to the top, grabbing a piece of her mane to keep from sliding back and off her rump on the steep sections. I feel a little like the Pied Piper with the rest of the herd streaming behind me in the quiet stillness of the bush. (So far no deer or bears have jumped out or that quiet scene would change...)

A few days ago, as we negotiated the trail once again, I was thinking that this is almost the only time I ride bareback now. I used to do that a lot, every chance I had, actually - whenever I caught a horse in the field, taking horses out to pasture, after the day trail riding. I couldn't find any "bareback" photos to go with this post but I did find this video of me on Tamarac (Sapphire's grandma) with Whisper (Sapphire's aunt) at her side loping through the field.

As Sapphire put one foot in front of the other at a walk, I reminisced about other bareback rides I had, especially flat racing. Yes - I flat raced without a saddle! What was I thinking?

I know what I was thinking. I was thinking my horses would run freer and with less weight (and therefore faster) but now, since I'm older and wiser, I know I did not consider my own safety. Even a wreck-in-the-making (my mare veered to the outside of the track, jumped the cable, and slipped between two cars) didn't stop me. After all, I stayed on...

All of this was on my mind because Williams Lake Stampede added a flat race for women to this year's events. I did not know that until the results were posted. What was my reaction? I want to be entered! Of course it was too late and besides, my current horses, although fast, had not been run so may have embarrassed me, but the adrenalin did flow for a moment or two. Was I thinking of running that race bareback? Not a chance. I may have done foolish things like that when I was younger but not any more. What was I thinking?

0 comments

That went well...

Posted by Sharon Labels: horse wrecks

A few days ago, someone shared a photo on Facebook of a horse pulling a lawn mower. The photo inspired several "likes" and various comments mostly in the tone of "what a neat idea". I was not one of the "likes" and I refrained from commenting. What I saw was a wreck-in-the-making although I'm the first to admit that I would rather be on top of a horse than behind him in some mode of wheeled transportation. The real reason I could only see disaster in that photo might have been because it reminded me of a story I heard from one of my clients many years ago. According to Melanie, this is what happened.

Hank and Melanie lived on a small acreage beside a paved highway. Although admittedly beginner riders, they wanted a horse or two on the property. To that end, they bought an Appaloosa mare which they brought to me for training. I believe her name was Rosy.

In those days, clients rarely left a horse with me longer than a month, believing (incorrectly) that I could return to them a safe, dependable mount in that limited time. Rosy was one of those. The little coloured mare had some issues. One of them was refusing to go forward but that's another story... In a month's time, the couple picked her up and presented me with a dozen roses for my trouble (they had witnessed a difficult ride). It was with some concern that I sent the horse home but the Appy behaved herself. She could not be blamed for what happened one sunny afternoon a few weeks later.

Melanie had just ridden Rosy but instead of returning her to the pasture this time, she tied her to a two-wheeled cart in front of the house and went inside, where she decided to try out her newly-purchased (from me!) Mary Kaye skin care products. Shedding her jeans and shirt for a bright yellow bathrobe, she pulled her hair up in a pony tail on the top of her head, washed her face with the cleanser and pulled out the deep-cleansing mask. She had just finished smearing the sticky white stuff on her neck and face when a commotion outside interupted her beauty treatment. Running to the window, she immediately saw what had caused the racket - Rosy was spooking at the cart... and the cart moved. The game was on and Melanie knew this would not end well. She sprang into action.

Grabbing a knife out of the kitchen drawer, Melanie pulled her boots on and the robe tightly around her and bolted out the door to see Rosy and the cart clattering down the driveway toward the highway. Now panicked by visions of a severely injured horse, she charged after her across the highway, through the ditch and in to an almost-ripe, four-foot high wheat field on the other side, with one thing on her mind - separating horse and cart.

But Rosy had stopped running. She must have decided the strange, noisy thing behind her was going to keep following her and the best thng to do was stop and look at it, because that's what she did, allowing Melanie to walk up to her, cut the shank and lead her away from her tormentor. Rosy was unhurt but the cart didn't fare so well - pieces were strewn across the highway, the ditch and the wheat field.

Only after Melanie had rescued her frightened mare did she think of the spectacle she presented to passing motorists (and to Rosy) – dishevelled woman in bathrobe, face painted a ghostly white (the mask was now cracking...), wildly wielding a butcher knife, pursues wild-eyed, wild-coloured horse towing wheeled wreckage through wheat field.

It's a wonder I wasn't arrested," she said. "And why didn't Rosy flee again, this time from the apparition coming after her through the wheat?"

Maybe Rosy was more 'broke' than I thought she was...

0 comments

What Can't Be Changed

Posted by Sharon

Today is my birthday. That can't be changed. Not even if I wanted to. Which I do...

Not the day, just the number. But these are the facts:

I was born to rancher parents in the Coteau Hills of Saskatchewan.

The ranch was competely isolated in the winter, accessible only by horses - either riding or team and sleigh.

Mom's "due date" was in February - not a good time or the year to be having a baby - so our trusted Grey Team transported a very pregnant Mom to "the settlement" two weeks prior to my expected arrival.

I arrived as expected and Dad made the trip back to pick my mother and I up at what he calculated to be the right time - when I was about two weeks old.

None of the above could or can be changed. Even if I wanted to. Which I don't.

And so I spent the first years of my life on an isolated ranch. That could not changed either. Not even if I wanted to. Which I don't. My first birthdays I celebrated there, in the little ranch house in the hills, like the one in the photo below:

My first birthday - what was I looking at? Not the camera...

My birthday always falls on a winter day. That cannot be changed, either. Mom and Dad made the most of my day with a cake, candles and gifts, of course, but parties at the lake or parties at all (since we were snowed in) were out of the question. As I grew up, married and had children, I came to accept the fact that I could not change the date of my birthday just because I wanted to but one year I rebelled. I threw a 40-something Hawaiian birthday party complete with Hawaiian food, beach attire and surf boarding (in the snow!) in my snowed in mobile home in Saskatchewan. It was one of the best birthdays ever! Here's a photo from that party.

My Hawaiian- themed birthday party

I remember three times that I was surprised on my birthday - once in Crooked River Saskatchewan, when friends arrived unannounced with cake and gifts (I was overwhelmed) and last year when my friend, Crystal, arranged a surprise birthday luncheon with Chilcotin ladies. The third time was for my 50th birthday.

I, like everyone else, expected something on my 50th but since my boyfriend and I were in Hawaii, I thought I had avoided it. Not so. A week later, after we were home, and in the middle of a Vern Sapergia reining clinic, my friends caught me off guard. When I was spiritied away on a useless errand, my house filled with people. The party was on.

Vern and I on my 50th Birthday

Ten years later, on my 60th birthday, I celebrated with my Samoyed, Kirby, by myself in the Kootenays. Maybe I gave in to what I could not change - celebrating my birthday in the snow!

Kirby and I on my 60th birthday - in the snow!

This year it's just Mischa and me and it's a quiet day. I'm reminiscing a little, thinking back to as many birthdays as I can remember. Many I have forgotten. I can't change the number of birthdays I've had and I can't change the date but, if I try, I might be able to change what I take away from each one. Until next year...

0 comments

Every Day is a New Day

Posted by Sharon Labels: Mischa, New Year

It’s been a real struggle for me to post on this blog for some time now. I just didn’t feel like writing about my life and I didn’t ‘see’ anything worth writing about either. It isn’t writer’s block; it’s just a block. I guess you could say I lost my mojo and I can see it’s going to take a supreme effort on my part to find it again.

I’ve always been the kind of person that thrives on a well-laid plan. If I have a plan, I have a plan of attack, so to speak, something to look forward to, to complete. With that in mind, I committed to taking a photo every day, not just any photo but one that awakened something in me, that touched me in some way. It meant I would have to ‘look’ for that photo, ‘look’ at things around me. I started January 1, 2013.

And so I have seven photos, one for each day of the new year. I am putting them in a slide show presentation with date and a short caption with music background. Will these photos tell me something? That remains to be seen, but in the meantime, I look forward to finding a photo of the day. I’ve discovered there is always something new.

I don’t intend to post every one for the year but because I am trying desperately to start posting again, these photos seemed to be a good start.