Moonlight Escapades

 Sometimes, tragedy strikes and a friend needs a distraction. There's nobody better than horse people to come together at exactly such a time. Besides, we were due for a night ride. This is the story of a random Thursday night.

Nothing to see here.

Muckleratz 2025 (Triumph Between Misadventures)

 Endurance has been on the backburner for a variety of reasons this year. Finances, time management, NACMO priorities, global events. Plus Booger popped a splint at the beginning of the year, which sidelined our spring season and meant scratching all my original goals for 2025 (no spoilers). I did the Rabbit Run LD on Lucy because I had already sent my entry. Then I basically stopped looking at the AERC calendar entirely.

However, Mike and I are committed to the Muckleratz rides each year. He is the photographer, and the pictures from this ride are arguably the most iconic ride photos in the region. If we were already going to be in camp and towing the horse trailer anyway, it made sense to bring a horse, right? Right.

I reached out to Beth, the ride manager, to ask about bartering a ride entry for Mike's services. Ride numbers are way down this year across the board, and we didn't even break even on No Frills. Beth agreed immediately to waive my entry fee. I just had to pick a distance. 

In the end, I decided to rip off the Band-Aid and enter the 50. 

For starters, I've never done the 50 at Muckleratz. I was going to last year, but we had sky high temperatures and Julio tried to kill himself a few days before the ride so I dropped down to the 30 instead.

Secondly, I am not feeling the drive to do endurance much lately. For the cost, effort, and stress, I could do more miles in new places by going fun camping and bringing both horses. It's a whole crisis. With that said, I do have this dream of getting decade team with Booger some day. This means doing a 50 (or more) every year. The season is half over in the Northeast already and I don't really have any other rides in mind. If I got the 50 knocked out at Muckleratz, we'd get year 3 towards decade team, and it would take the pressure off for the rest of the year.

Oh yeah, and this would be Booger's fifth fifty. If she completed, she'd get her first mileage patch. I've never gotten a patch with my own horse. 

Was I ready for a 50? I wasn't so sure. I was prepared to suffer.

Was Booger ready for a 50? Yeah, probably. She's a freak of nature and keeps herself pretty fit. I've been riding and driving her a ton this year and she has felt awesome. It didn't hurt to try, and I could always rider option if it wasn't going well.

I went in with the same goal as Hector last year: keep Booger in a bubble and have fun. I told myself that if I had a bad time, I had permission to quit. Nobody cares about my ride record but me. I have nothing to prove. The only reason I keep chugging away down the endurance trail is because this talented super mare just kind of fell into my lap. 

(If you're here for inspirational talk, you've misread the room, my friends!) 

Either Booger would come away from the weekend with her first patch or her first pull. Either way, maybe it would be my last endurance ride for a while. Time would tell.

Spoiler alert: it wound up being our best endurance ride to date!

A Good Gallop

 It's July. When it's not raining (so much rain) it's hot and muggy. The air is like soup, but not the tasty kind. Most days, I don't want to do anything that involves the outdoors. This was the case two Sundays ago as I sat sipping my coffee in the cool comfort of my air conditioned living room. Many of my horse friends were in the same boat and we were all feeling indecisive.

Gradually, a plan for an evening ride assembled itself. I agreed to go pick Taylor and Roger up. We would meet Sandy and Cristina at Vetter Farm around 5pm. 

We wound up doing nine and a half miles, and many good times were had along the way.

Me on Lucy and Taylor on Roger after we got a good gallop in.

Riders of the High Bridge

Based on a true story... 

Under the light of a rising buck moon, three shadow riders slip into the forest, followed by a shroud of fresh grief. 

They slip softly down the main street of the village, where tavern patrons gasp in surprise as they pass. Past the steel mill they glide, hooves reverberating on a wooden bridge, her trusses groaning, "Do not pass..." Their tall silhouettes dart across the stonework of old buildings falling to ruin in a world gone dark. 

At the place aptly named Lake Solitude, they tiptoe past the caretaker's quarters. Alas! They are spotted by the caretaker's wife, who rubs sleep from her eyes. She wonders if they are a vision, but she can hear their hoof beats drumming a staccato beat on the cobblestone driveway. 

Horses and riders descend into the gully below the falls, the rush of the rain-swelled cascade drowning out all other sound. The caretaker is in pursuit and shines his beacon into the dark. As if guided by some dark, mysterious force, beyond the realm of the living, the horses move in unison, disappearing into a cluster of trees. The lantern shines on, held in the trembling hand of the lake's steward. He knows the steeds are there. He trailed them until they disappeared in the dark depths below. 

"Who goes there?" he whispers, but he is afraid to find the answer. Perhaps it is best not to confront the spectral beasts. With a shudder, he turns for home, and explains to the missus that the horses have disappeared into the river without a trace. 

Moments later, the travelers emerge from the moon-soaked mist, galloping at breakneck speed through the open meadow, then disappearing onto the carriage road beyond, frightening another wanderer as they round the bend. 

The river, ancient and wild, carves a path between the cliffs. The cloaked companions ascend into the gorge and there is only the gurgle of the water pouring over boulders, the metronome rhythm of unshod hooves on stone, and the dapple of moonlight through the trees, trunks glistening slender and white on either side of the ravine. 

As the witching hour approaches, a pair of grave robbers startle, raising lanterns to the high chalk road above. Three shadow horses fly by, legs churning as they gallop along. The cackle of the dark riders echoes on the sticky night air as fireflies swirl, and a sweet scent fills the air. 

Soon, a gap between cliffs appears, and the horses slow, seeming to levitate across the trestles, the full force of unfiltered lunar light making faces glow and mischievous eyes gleam. 

A stately estate appears on a crest, overlooking vast domain. Every candle in every room is lit, a vain attempt to keep the darkness at bay. In the yard, a pair of hounds raise their hackles, sensing the presence of something out of place. Inside, the lord of the manor finds nothing amiss while a trio of outlines darkens the windows in passing. 

The hoofbeats soften and fade. The horses and riders shimmer under the streetlamps, then fade once more beyond the line of sight.

This is how legends begin...

Actual photo from last night's epic adventure.

Happy First Birthday, Chip!

We interrupt your regularly scheduled ride recaps to make a special announcement. A certain young man is now officially a yearling! I cannot believe how quickly time is flying by. We've had Chip for eight months already. I feel like it was just yesterday that Dodie posted a picture of him as a newborn on Facebook, triggering a bad bout of baby fever for me. I have many more pictures to edit and post, but in the meantime, here's what Chip looks like at one year old.

Sometimes I don't feel like he's growing at all, but when I compare these pictures to those taken just two and a half months ago, the difference is staggering. 

I'm so excited to watch this kid blossom into an adult.

Just like that, I don't have a foal any more. I'm glad it was something I got to experience and I loved every second of it. Now it's time to start setting some goals for the next year, and to continue soaking up the days in between. 

Chip is almost 13hh. I am hoping this means he'll mature to almost 15hh as an adult, but I have my doubts. Regardless, I am totally in love with this kid.

See below to watch Chip grow up.

Driving at Green Lane

 I had so much fun at Green Lane that I turned right around and went back the next weekend. In all seriousness, I've been wanting to drive Booger at Green Lane since Dodie put the thought in my head last fall. Two Saturdays ago, we made it happen. 

Mike joined me on his bicycle. I warned him that Booger goes much faster in the cart than she does when I'm riding her. It was going to be hot. He wanted to try to keep up with us anyway. (I completely failed to get any pictures of Mike. Bad wife.)

Terra and I spotted this gazebo from the causeway while doing the NACMO ride. I had commented that I'd never been to the gazebo, and wondered out loud where it was in the park. Mystery solved.

Green Lane: Camping and NACMO

 The Father's Day NACMO at Green Lane was two weekends ago. This year, I decided to book two nights of camping for extra saddle time. Of course, it turned out to be the hottest week of the year so far, with a real feel well over 100℉. It wound up being a great weekend despite the heat.

June 2025

 This post is mostly going to be Chip photos. He is almost a year old already (where does the time go?) Chip had a lowkey month with nothing new or exciting. He is growing like a weed. From some angles he looks like a grown up. From others he just looks awkward. 

Anyway! I am actually pretty close to caught up on June. Here is my monthly photo dump.

This kid is such a sweetheart. Also a pest. But mostly a sweetheart.