Three Steps Forward, Two Steps Back

After Tux bucked me off, I was pretty sore. I rode Cheese Burger as planned the night it happened. A combination of pride and adrenaline kept me going. The next day though I was stiff and sore, real sore! I tr4ied to walk with a friend for my usual Tuesday morning walk and had to almost stop when we came to a downhill. Up and level were slow and painful but I could manage. A gentle downhill was excruciating and my left hip didn’t want to work well at all. As the week progressed, some dandy bruises filled in. I started to have some doubts about whether or not this was such a good idea, whether or not I could accomplish what I had so impulsively committed to.

I kept most of the pain and all of the doubts from Jessica. I’ve been injured before. I know I heal… eventually and I know that right after an injury is not the time to make snap decisions so I kept my mouth shut. Meanwhile, Jessica rode Tuxedo and I rode CB. She even put her younger brother up on Tux one day while I rode CB. She rode Tux to the trail head while Johann hiked along beside and then let him ride while she walked along and did some much needed brush trimming on our trails. CB has the occasional drama fit too. She’s not mean but she can be flighty and many things spook her. Right at the start she was acting up as soon as I mounted and my first thought was, “Great! The ‘safe’ horse is gonna toss me!” I was warier though after my get-off from Tuxedo. I kept on her and anticipated issues as well as I could and for the most part we did OK.

There was one incident where Tuxedo stumbled a bit while we were ahead of him. No biggy for Tux but he’s a big guy and when he puts his foot down hard the ground thunders. CB panicked, absolutely positive that a giant monster was attacking her and she bolted up the trail. But my horse sense was starting to kick in now. The years of riding as a kid starting to come back so I leaned into her lunge, gripped her with my legs and once we were over the crest of the small hill on the trail I hauled her head around (Thank you Jessica for that tip!) and she stopped. I didn’t yell or shout because she was already spooked. We stopped and I let her settle down while we waited for Jess and Johann to catch up.

They came over the hill and Jessica had a very worried expression on her face.

“You really had me worried! I thought that I would find you hanging from a tree limb. You didn’t say anything.”

I explained that there was no need and besides, I thought that it would only make things worse. CB and I were OK, really. I felt better about that incident too. I felt like I was getting back into my groove, moving with the horse and doing the right thing and not the sack of potatoes thing. Meanwhile, Jess said that I took 2 years off her life. Well, she’s young. She has years to spare:-)

Later on, we’d done the trail loop and were riding the last mile down the rode to the pasture. CB has a quick walk and Jess said just let her step out as long as she didn’t trot. She wanted going-back-to-the-barn to be deliberate with the pace determined by the rider and not a mad dash dictated by the horse. We swung along and were soon out of sight of Jessica, Johann and Tuxedo behind us on the road.

Later, in the pasture, Jessica told me that was the first time she’d ever let CB get out of her sight with someone else on her.

“I was like a nervous Mom watching her daughter go out to her first prom!” she gushed. Too bad her ‘daughter’ had such an old, ugly date! I was pleased and more than a little flattered that Jess trusted me on CB to that extent though.

Three weeks past and most of my aches and pains receded. Time to get back on Tuxedo. I still have lingering doubts but I mount up anyway. We have one ride with no incident. The next ride is a long one to Roche Harbor. At Roche we look for a place to park the horses so we can get lunch and we are on a narrow trail 6’ above the side road going towards the restaurant. Suddenly we come to a dead end and the only way out is to back up. I haven’t worked with Tux on backing but he goes straight back about 10’ without a misstep. Then he spins in less than his length and heads up the hill with no problem. Jessica dismounts and leads CB up a very steep bank to a higher road. The bank has large, loose, moss covered stones and looks to be over 45 degrees. It was a scramble for Jess to walk it.

“Should I get off and lead him up?” I ask.

“No, I think he’s good for it.” She replies.

Damned if he wasn’t. His first step landed his front feet in a deep hole. Many horses panic in that situation. Tux just paused, looked down and pulled his feet out carefully, one by one. Then he revved up those powerful hind legs and made the top of the bank in two huge lunges. At the top, he wasn’t nervous or winded. He reached out, grabbed a mouthful of grass and looked back at me as if to say, “Where to now Boss?”

I was starting to gain some confidence in him, thinking that the Crest Trail ride was a doable goal but then the title of this essay also mentioned some backward steps as well as forward steps. Those occurred in the next ride.

A short loop, only about 5 miles. We headed up the road and at the transition from paved to gravel, he balked. I’d kick him and try to get him to advance and all it did was make him back up harder. Jessica gave me some pointers and I kept at it and after about 5 minutes of negotiations, he started up the road. There was another incident farther up the trail and a final one l later. Each took about 5 minutes to resolve and worse, they resulted in him backing and turning over a wide area. This would not work on the Pacific Crest Trail! There are narrow sections of the trail with drop offs that are hundreds of feet to the bottom. What would we do if he refused to cross a river of balked at a stream on a steep section?

Next ride we do a longer loop and take the horses up the steep sections of the trails. We put Tux in back with the idea that alternating him to the front will be better than fighting with him to be in front every time. We eventually want both horses to be able to take the lead or go off on their own with either of us riding. In case of an accident on the trail, we need flexibility of mounts! We do trails on the old DNR land and Tuxedo is a trooper on the steep, rocky sections, the switchbacks, and the narrow places between trees. He was a star. Sure-footed and courageous, not spooked by anything, we finished the ride with him tired but content. Unsaddled, at the end of the day, he didn’t run off. He hung around, looking for treats, socializing with us. In the middle of the Cascade Range this behavior will be a very good thing!

The next ride, it was his turn to lead. At the gravel transition I anticipated a balk so I kept at him and encouraged him along. On the trail he hesitated two more times but both were resolved in seconds, not minutes. This is partly a result of me engaging more positively but also a result of Tuxedo being a quick study.

So where does this leave me? My doubts are fading with the residual stiffness from the drama lesson in June. I have a healthy respect for Tuxedo but also a real growing confidence in his ability. He’s shown that he’s willing to learn and that he has many, many sterling traits for an outstanding trail horse. He’s immensely strong and is surefooted. He doesn’t spook or bolt. He seems to genuinely like the challenge of the rides. He likes having a job and I think that job will be carrying me into the mountains.

Horse Drama!

       One of the issues facing Jessica and I was the second mount for the ride. I needed a horse for the trail and needed it in time to condition and train it. The horse I’d been riding, Buster, was only borrowed and besides, trooper that he was, he was past his prime for a really tough ride. He also was a bit of a stumble foot. At least once every ride he would stumble to the point of almost going down. This was on fairly easy trails and wasn’t confidence inspiring when I thought of some of the sections of the Pacific Crest Trail with steep switchbacks and sharp drop-offs into rocky oblivion. Jess had a lead on a good packhorse but all leads for a mount for me played out.

       The potential packhorse was a mix of Quarter horse and a small draft breed called Fjord Pony common in the Scandinavian countries. Strong and stocky, they make good mounts too but this one “had issues”. According to Jessica, he was 10 years old but very green because he would bolt or buck when mounted! Saddled and loaded with packs was OK, just not mounted by a person, at least not predictably. Jessica negotiated with his owner and bought him at a very reasonable price. Two down and one to go. We now had a packhorse and one mount.

       The new horse was named Tuxedo though for the life of me I can’t figure out why because he’s a buckskin tending to dun with the typical Fjord Pony mane that is light down the middle and black on both sides. He was also BIG! Not tall, but big. He was barely 15 hands but probably weighed 1500#s. Some of this was excess because he spent much of his time in a box stall. Because of his tendency to bolt and throw people, he was pretty useless on the previous owners string of rental ponies. Jessica felt that his problems could have resulted from someone using a blindfold to train and mount him as a young horse. She also felt that hobbling him and mounting him over and over would get him past this but the previous owner felt that hobbles were cruel. I don’t know about that. I’ve never seen hobbles cause injury and I do have my own opinion about the cruelty of living in a small stall most of your life.

       When Jess got Tux home to her pasture she started considering him not just as a pack animal but also as a possible mount for me. As I’ve mentioned before, my weight limits gear that I can pack. A typical horse can carry around 250# for a long trail ride but Tux is capable of carrying a 300# load. That’s me, tack, and some food or gear! Of course there was still his bolting and bucking.

       I got a call from Jess, “Come meet your new horse!” she sounded cheerful and chirpy. I was immediately suspicious. I sensed an agenda but we agreed to meet. I wanted to try out the saddles I got from my sister and see if one would fit him. Sis was all grins to find me back in the saddle after almost 50 years on two wheels instead of 4 hooves and she gleefully outfitted me with bridle, bit, two saddles, pad, and halter. I filled the back of my station wagon with leather and headed over to meet the new kid on the block.

       Saddling him was a breeze as was getting the bridle on. He really didn’t give a hint of trouble so we got out the hobbles and took turns getting on and off. Gently at first, then normally. Off, on, both sides, each of us taking turns. He tossed his head but seemed OK.

“This has gone better and faster than I expected.” Said Jessica. “Let’s try him on a lunge line and then see about riding him in the pasture.”

All went well and later, I rode him a very short bit without any trouble. I was gaining confidence but Jess was pessimistic.

“There’s still drama in him. I don’t think were done yet. This was too easy!” But it was enough for one day so we unsaddled him and called it good.

The next week I saddled Tux up, hobbled him while Jess was getting her horse ready. I mounted him a few times. All was going well. We were going to trail ride with Jess on Tuxedo and me on her horse Cheeseburger.

“I think Tux is good. I’m going to ride him up the field a bit.”

“Don’t! I don’t think he’s ready yet Greg.”

“You’re being a worrywart. It’s OK Mom.” I teased.

She put her face down into her horse and made a big deal out of looking away and covering her ears so as to not hear the carnage that I was convinced wouldn’t happen.

I mounted up and carefully pointed him up the pasture. We went about 100 yards and turned around to come back. He felt a little goosey, a little odd but I kept him moving. We were about halfway to the other horses when he decided enough was enough and channeled his inner bronco. Suddenly I was barely hanging on and very aware of the power in that draft horses build. I lasted about 3 bounces and was suddenly lying on my back on the ground. Ouch! That was no fun. Jess ran out and grabbed the horse and yelled, “Are you alright? Does everything still work?”

Well, sorta… slowly… and with some pain. Damn, it’s been at least 50 years since I was last dumped off of a horse and the ground has used the time to learn how to hit much harder. I got up but again,  slowly. Caught my breath and started walking down to her… slowly.

“Get on him again when you’re ready.” Yeah, she really believes that you should get right back on the horse that just dumped you. We hobbled him up and I got on and off a few times.

“Do you still want to ride today?”

“Yeah, but let’s go back to plan A and I’ll ride CB, OK?”

We did the short loop, about 4 miles and I went home to soak and cuddle up with Advil. The next day, I was sore, really sore. I must have landed on my left hip because it didn’t want to work for a couple of days. As the week progressed some pretty good bruises filled in but slowly, things started to heal. Not quite as fast as when I was 16, but heal they did. We rode some more but I told Jess that I would happily let her do my stunts for a few weeks. She could ride Tux while I rode CB.

 I also gained more respect for Jessica’s horse sense. She called it exactly right and predicted the drama in Tuxedo accurately. In the future I’ll trade a bruised ego for a bruised body and do exactly as she recommends.     

The Mother's Day Ride

Clip, creak, clop, creak, clip, creak, cop, creak. 15 miles into the trail and Buster is setting a steady pace as the hooves and saddle make music on a warm spring day. I’m swaying along and letting my thoughts wander… and my eyes close. It’s the sun doing it! I’m not sleepy. Only closed ‘em for a second… really! I open my eyes again as a slight turn wakes me up and realize that Buster has started down the wrong path. Oops, I guide him back before Jessica notices I’ve dozed off. We’ve been silent the past mile, both of us talked out. We still have over an hour to go to get home. This is our longest ride to date.

 This ride came about after Jessica and I had been riding for a couple of months, after she had decided that I was a real rider, after we had discovered we got along on the trail. Out of the blue, she invited me on her annual Mother’s Day ride. For some years now she and some friends have ridden from the field where her horses are pastured to Roche Harbor resort for the brunch that they sponsor. This is close to a 20 mile round trip ride so her asking me meant that she had confidence in my ability to go the distance. It also meant that she was willing to let me mingle with her other horse buddies. I was flattered that she would include me in this ride. This was months before the Pacific Crest Trail ride came into being, so for that time, this was my Big Ride to look forward too.

As the weeks progressed, Jess told me that the girls liked to get dressed up in full western gear to do this ride. They made an “Event” out of it! I had a hat and plain boots, jeans and a plain shirt but nothing fancy like she had so I asked if I could wear my pistols. I may not have a fancy western shirt or expensive boots but I do have a brace of real Colt revolvers and a very nice set of custom holsters made in Tombstone Arizona! If you want real holsters to match the pistols, I can’t think of a better place of origin to have stamped into the leather than Tombstone. It always botherd me that I had a set of fancy, Sunday-go-to-meetin’ holsters with no place to wear them. A trail ride to Roche seemed the perfect chance to show them off. What better way to celebrate Mother’s Day!

Jessica laughed and whole-heartedly endorsed the idea. I said that it might cause a stir. She said “Good!” Sometimes I do impulsive things with very little provocation, but with this kind of support, impulsive actions are guaranteed. Meanwhile, my Fearless Wife got on board with the ride by saying that she would meet us at Roche. She’s not horse rider but she does like her bicycle so she planned on the 20 mile trip as a nice workout and lunch. It would also be nice to have her there with bail just in case things went badly.

The trip out to the resort was easy tho it was just Jessica and I as everyone else had other obligations. We saddled up and headed out. We’d done some 10 mile rides previously and as the weeks progressed, I was less tired each time we rode so I wasn’t too worried about the trip to the resort. It was the ride home I was ‘anticipating’. Yes, that’s the right word. I was anticipating it.

 Arriving at Roche we tied the horses in the brush far enough off the road so that they wouldn’t be bothered by casual passers by. From the hill overlooking the harbor we walked down to the café. I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and called Lunnette and found that she had just arrived. We met in front of the store and walked back to the restaurant and got a table on the deck.

On the way in, I got a few looks and one tourist asked me why I needed a gun? “Well, you just never know when you may meet someone who needs shooting.” I replied. He edged away but no 911 calls so far. Sitting down, I find that plastic chairs and holsters are from different centuries and don’t work well together so I had to take off the gun and lay it on the table. A young couple sitting behind us asked if it was a real gun and again, “Why?” I decided to play the colorful sidekick roll this time.

“A young woman with a wild heart (gesturing at Jess) needs an old man with a fast gun to back her play when she goes to town.” They liked that explanation and smiled. Being the colorful sidekick is a durable role and one I’ll cultivate. Jessica can be the star in this movie. Of course I’ll have to learn how to cook and grumble about my age. These are standard lines for a colorful sidekick but I think I can swing that without too much trouble. One last thing on the way out confirmed that our western dress was just the ticket when a woman in a fancy Mercedes came up the narrow road as we walked back towards the horses. She was chattering on her cell phone when she noticed the gear and guns and her eyes bugged out and I could read her lips as she exclaimed to whoever she was talking to, “Oh my God! You’re not going to believe what I just saw!”

Lunnette meets us on the way out and took some pictures. The horses did just fine with her bike. As we rode up, she’s talking to an acquaintance who we met as we rode in earlier. We would see this same friend a third time as we rode by the Roche Harbor airport. She lives on the runway and she waved from her house as we went by. We take the long way back to the watershed trail and as we start up the hill, conversation lags and I started dozing. There is this about horses: unlike cars, they can drive themselves! There are places you need to be in control and alert but other times, your attention can lag for a bit. You can even nap! Of course “drive themselves” doesn’t mean that they can navigate.

Clip, creak, clop, creak. I open my eyes and realize that Jess has gone down a different trail than the one we came in on. I inquire about it and she jerks up and I realize that she’s been doing just what I was doing, napping. Of course she claims to be just riding with her eyes closed because it’s fun to do. Whatever. We both have a good laugh when we compare notes and realize out that at least one of us should have their eyes open or we might end up someplace unexpected! The last couple miles seem to last at least another 20 miles! My knees are sore, my legs are sore and it seems to take forever but we finally arrive at the pasture. I swing my leg over, kick out of the stirrups and slither down the saddle in the least graceful dismount of the year. Thank god Buster is tired and wants to just stand cause I don’t think that I can walk after landing! Jessica is sitting on Cheesburger looking intently at me with some concern, wondering if I’ll be able to walk. Yup, eventually, tired, but still mobile. I creak and groan much like the saddle but then I am the colorful sidekick and this is expected and just another excuse to drink some “rhumatiz medicine” when we hit the saloons along the trail.  

The Logistics Puzzle

Decisions, decisions… Of all the adventures I’ve tackled since I retired, this trail ride has to be the most complex ever! When I rode my motorcycle on the Bonneville Salt Flats I had to worry about was an accident taking out my ride home but really, it was just like any other summer ride. When I participated in the local sprint triathlon last year, I had to juggle 3 different conditioning modes but it was just me and a deadline to deal with. The hike across Olympic National Park had the complication of food and shelter but again, it was just me. This trail ride takes it all to a new logistical level. Five lives to consider: Jessica, me, two mounts, and a packhorse and we all need to eat and be protected from the weather in varying forms. The horses will eat 10lbs of food a day so there’s 30lbs times the number of days between resupply drops that need to be carried. There is one stretch that may take 7 days so that’s 210 lbs of food for just the horses.

People food will be easier though I need to find out more about what Jessica likes to eat and plan accordingly. It will be easier if we cook one dinner and not two each night. Clothing and tents are similar to my hike last year so that won’t be too big a deal though I have to consider water preparation. Last year I carried iodine tablets and used them with a little raspberry lemonade added to the water to disguise the taste. As the hike progressed, I drank from clear springs and loved it. I know, I know, all the litany of diseases that are waterborne… Hey look, the park was hardly used and others I talked to had been doing it for years. That plus the fact that I would be home before the onset of symptoms.

Different story next year. I would be in the middle of the wilderness when the symptoms struck and that could be a game changer so I’ll be more cautious and always take precautions. The problem is that iodine isn’t recommended for long periods of time, filters are slow, UV kits take batteries. For now, I’m leaning towards a filter, iodine, and bottled water at the food drops. The bottled water would just be for the first day but would give us a needed break from the iodine taste or pumping the filter.

My tack is taking shape. My sister bought me a good trail saddle at the Redmond Oregon tack sale and she also had some extra gear for me. I still need to lose some weight so as to not overload my horse and also to have a little spare capacity to carry personal gear. Jessica has no problem here and will wind up carrying a fair amount of food on her mount.

The other Big Deal is for want of a better term, “trail compatibility”. Jess and I have gotten along very well… for a few hours each week. We like each other as occasional riding buddies but what will happen when we are together constantly for 4 weeks? I’ve just finished reading one blog about an Oregon – Washington crest ride by a woman who went with a good friend and it wasn’t pretty. They were friends in the world but differences in wake up times, willingness to get started and help the other person started to really strain the relationship. These are all unknowns at this point. One thing I have already realized is that I better get my ground game together this summer. Last time we went riding, Buster didn’t want to go and wouldn’t let me get close to him in the pasture. Jessica had to out fox him and hand him off to me. I remembered how to ride but some of those horsemanship skills on the ground need revisiting. Jess has ridden all of her adult life and so she’s been the adult in charge. Much of my riding was as a kid and so now I realize that my Dad was back stopping the things like cleaning hooves and tricking the horses into the stalls to make it easier to get started. Some things I need to practice and remember, other skills are new and I will need to learn them. And I will.

This trip is very important to Jessica, it looms large in her dreams, and I owe her a huge debt for first taking the chance to give me a ride and sharing her tack and horses. I also owe her for including me in this dream and the last thing I want to do is cause problems or friction. I want this 508 mile ride to be remembered as fun and trouble free… yeah rightJ There will be trouble. There will be rain and heat. There will be steep hills and dangerous stream crossings. All of these and more are to be expected and others we never anticipated too but I’ll work to eliminate problems due to differences in horse politics or siesta times; the human relationships. Jessica is tackling a huge bite planning, acquiring, and training the horses. I’ll do my best to handle the HR and logistics end of things.

There’ll be a bit of break now in this blog as I have to drive a friend to California and I’m going to take a small e-cation and leave the computer at home. When I get back, I’ll try to figure out how to include pictures in this narrative and links to some of the other stories and resources we have found. 

A Heavy Topic!

       While Jessica is hunting for another horse for our ride, I’ve been reading up on what to expect. I want to be prepared so that the ride goes well. It would be wrong for Jess to have to cut things short or change plans because I didn’t do my homework.  Last year I did a solo walk across the Olympic National Park from the North Fork ranger station to the Elwa River Ranger station. It was 50 miles and took 5 days. I prepared for the walk, packed carefully, but still had a pack that weighed 40+ pounds. Some was food, some shelter, some clothing. My first thought when I started really thinking about riding the Pacific Crest Trail was, “Cool, I don’t have to sweat the weight because the horse is stronger than I am!” Well it turns out that I was wrong, dead wrong as they say in the Westerns that formed my view of long rides.

 When Rooster Cogburn heads out in search of an outlaw with Maddy in “True Grit” all he packs is some whiskey, some salt, and a big bag of ‘corn dodgers’. This last item I assume to be a prairie version of a sailors hardtack. His saddle doesn’t have large packs and he only needs the horse blanket to sleep on. OK, lets start with that last item. At the end of the day the blanket is wringing wet with horse sweat and I don’t think it would keep anyone warm using it unless they were on a soundstage or sleeping in a trailer on the set of a movie. So add my trusty sleeping bag in please and because I’m older than Jessica’s 29 I’ll take a sleeping pad or air mattress too thank you! I’ll also need a tent in case of rain. Cooking is going to be different from the westerns too. No open fires in many of the areas we will ride though so either cold meals or bring a small stove.

       All of this starts to add up and the one thing I kept seeing in the articles about long distance riding was don’t overload your horse! In fact, the number I kept seeing was a 250lb limit for safe travel. 250lbs? That’s just me and the saddle! No food, no gear. The other thing I keep seeing that makes that weight even more important is the importance of feed for the horses. In the westerns, the horses were allowed to graze and that’s still an option in some areas but in many it is not allowed or because this is the Pacific CREST Trail, there is little forage for the stock. In wilderness areas, raw grain is not allowed due to the possibility of introducing non-native species onto the land.

       Some of the processed feeds are a good thing though as they are approved for back country use and have a high calorie content. Just like a hiker needs to double their calorie intake on long days, so do the horses when ridden loaded in rough country. Grazing occasionally and feed at 10lbs a day should keep a horse going. There’s one section of trail where we will be at least 7 days without re-supply. That means me and the tack = 250lbs. Add my food and gear at 25lbs. Include the horses feed at 70lbs and you see the dilemma. 345lbs is far over the limit for what the horse should be packing. Overloaded horses are tired horses, horses prone to injury, horses prone to stumbling on dangerous trails. This is going to take some time to work out.

       I can lose weight. Hell, I should lose weight but let’s be realistic and say that I lose 10% of my body mass. That’s only 23lbs. Two days food for the horse and still badly over weight for the trip. I can lead the horse down steep trail sections. This is where most accidents occur and is hardest on the horse’s legs. The other option is a packhorse. This would solve everything but Jessica only has a 2-horse trailer and she doesn’t have a pack frame or harness. Fortunately, we have time to work this out. Some of the accounts I’ve read were made without much planning, almost on the spur of the moment, but they were written by a 16 year old boy who was thin and wiry or much smaller woman. Easy for them to set that 250lb limit! I weighed 175lbs in high school and that was long ago. Well, enough excuses. Let’s start with the easy stuff. The sweets and deserts are going to have to stop. If you see me on the street with a candy bar, knock it out of my hands! Remember the life you save may be… the horses! Jessica’s horse that I’ll probably be riding. Jessica’s horse named… Cheeseburger:-\ Oh the irony, a low calorie Greg on a high calorie horse. 

  

I never expected this!

     This is going to be the story of my ride across Washington State on the Pacific Crest Trail. That's a bold statement and I hope that it comes true! I need to give some background first though. Bear with me as this trip will take over a year to come true anyway.
     I grew up on a farm outside of Portland Oregon, long ago, in a galaxy far away it seems now. I rode horses, I fished, I rode horses, I hunted, I rode horses, I turned 16. I sold my last horse, a retired Thoroughbred race horse to buy a scooter and I've owned something with two wheels ever since. I graduated from high school, went to college, got a job, got married, raised a family. I kept riding motorcycles but always thought fondly of horses... in the abstract. I didn't have the land. Five acres on San Juan Island, five wet, marshy acres! I didn't have the time but I would occasionally ask acquaintances to take me for rides if they had extra horses. It rarely worked. In the 45 years since i left the farm I can count the number of times I've ridden on one hand. Still, I kept a lookout for a chance.
     Last fall I was in the local hardware store and was being waited on by a young woman who worked there. I noticed that she had a horse tattoo. Well, a lot of young women are horse lovers but then i noticed that she had "barn arms"! She had incredible muscle definition for someone who simply shifted store stock around so I asked my usual question, the same ones that had never worked before.
"Do you have a horse?"
"Yes." she said.
"Do you have more than one horse?"
She laughed, "Yes, I have three."
"Would you like to trade a horseback ride for a motorcycle ride?"
She laughed again, "No, I'm not interested in a motorcycle ride."
Damn, there went my last best hope!
"But I'll take you for a ride if you know how."
     I couldn't believe it, success after all those attempts in years past! I got her name and gave her mine and my phone number and I went home and waited... and waited,,, and waited. I figured that she had reconsidered, remembered what her Mom had said about not talking to strangers, seen my picture up on the Post Office wall. Nothing that dramatic though. I ran in to her at the local American  Legion Hall and she said that she still had my number but that she was still trying to get things sorted out with the horse that she wanted to put me on. A week later she called and we met at her pasture.
     OK at this point all I'm hoping for is a ride, maybe two. She puts the horses in a trailer and we drive a few miles away to the Roche Harbor watershed. It's hunting season and the place she usually rides has many hunters and thick brush to disguise horses and riders as deer. a wise choice I agree! we get the horses unloaded and Jessica gets them saddled and bridled. We adjust the stirrups for me and away we go. I quickly realize that this first ride is really an interview. She trots. I post. She likes that because it's easier on the horse.
"It's how I learned." I explain.
We canter a bit. My horse is very rough and this surprises me because all other times I've cantered, it's been an easier gate than trotting. I comment on this and it turns out that the horse I'm on is noted for being rough as a cob in a canter. We finish a couple of hours later and I'm a little tired but not particularly stiff or sore. Once you really know how to move with a horse instead of just hanging on, you use fewer muscles and you use them more naturally. I was happy with how easily the ride came back to me and apparently, Jessica was too because I was invited back.
"A lot of people want to ride and say that they know how but what that really means is that they've sat on a horse following another horse at a walk on a trail. You really do know how to ride and you make the horse do what you want and don't let him do what he wants."
I ride again and then again. We start riding regularly. Winter interrupts some but we keep at it and my skills improve and one day Jessica says, "I like riding with you. I don't have to teach you or worry about you and I can relax and just ride for myself."
    She also liked having an extra person along in case something happened. We were riding in an area without cell service, or at least sporadic cell service and the trails were rough and steep. An accident here could have a serious ending! Along the way, we talked and shared ideas and jokes and had some good laughs every ride. I came to like her as a friend and was pleasantly surprised to feel that she felt the same way; a mutual admiration society. Trail buddies.
     We had talked about hiking and some of my hikes and hers so I knew that she liked a good adventure. my dream hike would be the Pacific Crest Trail on a full length though hike,  Mexico to Canada in one long summer. I have the time, I have the money... I'm also 65 years old. I did a hike across the Olympics last summer. 50 miles in 5 days with the last day being a 16 mile trek. The PCT requires 20 miles though and day after day after day to complete the hike. Still, I dreamed and bought books about the trail. My Fearless Wife gave me the Pacific Crest Reader for Christmas. In it was a story by a guy named Hawk Greenway who as a 16 year old boy decided to ride his horse from his home in Northern California to the Canadian border and then back to Wenatchee Washington to see his Mom. The book is called "The Trial North" and it's available from amazon and independent bookstores. To thank Jessica for all the rides, I bought her a copy. Inside I wrote, "To Jessica, to fuel a young girl's dreams!" I didn't just fuel them, I threw gasoline on them! Two days later she commented on my Face Book page, "Well, Greg Hertel, now you've done it! I've been up since 4:30 reading articles, blogs, sites about people who rode the Pacific Crest Trail......... Dammit."
Two days after that I'm included on the ride as her sidekick. Hoping for a couple of rides, I'm now looking at close to a 500 mile ride. Life is good:-)