Rocky and the Art Museum (Part III of Sasquatch's Southwestern Sojourn)
On Sunday, I went with RM and Mrs. RM for a horseback riding lesson. Those of you who know me can stop snickering already. This wasn't a typical trail ride situation, where they basically stick you on a horse and send you down a path the horse has traveled a million times. This was an honest-to-god, start from scratch lesson.
RM rides Western style, and Mrs. RM rides English style. Considering that the saddle is much larger in the Western style, I chose it because I figured I would need all the help I could get to stay on the horse.
I'm scared to death of horses, so I was looking at this morning's activities as a challenge that needed surmounting. (Get it? Horses? Surmounting?) I figure that any animal that can look me in the eye without any effort is an animal worth a bit of respect (or fear, in my case).
Aside from knowing that I feared them, I knew really nothing much else about horses, so this was turning out to be quite an adventure. First, we retrieved my horse from his paddock. His name is Rocky, and he's 22 years old. This is a good thing, because I needed a horse who would be compliant and not up for any sort of mischief. We (the trainer and I) led Rocky from the paddock to the prep area (if there's a technical name for this part of the stable, please let me know). Once we got him attached to the fence in the prep area, I had to slide my hand down his legs and use a hoof pick on his feet. This is to make sure there are no rocks stuck between the shoe and foot, and also to check the status of the hoof. Next, I had to brush him with a curry comb, and then with the body and face brush. I brushed this horse for nearly half an hour, and he still had dust coming out of his coat. I think he manufactured it, frankly.
Once he was brushed, it was time for the application of the saddle. RM had an extra, so he was kind enough to let me use it. I put on the saddle blanket, the pad, and the saddle. I'm not all that mighty, but the stable owner seemed a bit impressed that I could just hoist the saddle up and over the horse in one smooth motion. Good for me. I got it in the right position, just behind the withers.
Then it was time to apply the bridle, which I wasn't about to attempt. I asked the stable owner to help me with this, because I didn't fancy putting my hand very close to the horse's mouth. Also, he had lots of green foamy stuff all around his lips, which made him look like Nort the Weedeater. Creepy. Once he was bridled, we walked over to the ring where the exciting stuff would take place. Not to sound horribly negative, but I think one of the worst parts of the entire experience was just walking the horse from place to place. His head was right next to mine, and it made me really uncomfortable. He was pretty low-key about the whole thing, though, so the transit occurred without incident.
I made it on top of the saddle, and just sat there for a few moments, just taking in the view and the realization that I (more or less) had gotten this animal ready to do this, and that I was actually doing this. Up to this point, I have failed to mention that it was only about 35F outside, so everything we did was COLD. Riding a horse in this weather just makes you colder, unless you're the horse. RM and Mrs. RM did their thing, while I was given basic instructions by the stable owner.
I was instructed how to hold the reins, and not to put my other hand on the saddle horn. I did the "click-click" thing with my tongue and squeezed my legs together, and we started moving. This was so cool. We walked around the perimeter of the ring a couple of times, and then I was told we should trot. Trotting, in theory, sounds wonderful. In practice it's something completely different. Because I don't know how to post (that is, stand in the stirrups and bounce gracefully with the rhythm of the horse), I just caromed off the saddle repeatedly. My theory is that you start riding at 6'2" and end up at 5'8" after your spine compresses from trotting.
We trotted around the ring, and then made circles at a trot. Rocky was a bit lazy—after we would take a corner at a trot he would automatically slow down to a walk. While my spine appreciated it, it didn't make the whole "you're supposed to slow down when I tell you to slow down" part of the relationship work. So I would click again and squeeze again and we'd commence trotting again.
The coolest thing for me (and I'm so simple-minded that this was cool for me) was the overback maneuver. Essentially, you're sitting there on your horse, but you want the horse to face the other direction. Simply by pushing in with the outside knee and just laying (not pulling on) the reins on the outside of the horse's neck, the horse will turn 180 degrees and stay put. Also, you have to turn your head in the direction you want the animal to turn, because although it doesn't look like it, horses can see pretty far behind them. The head turning is the visual cue they need to complete the maneuver. I did this overback thing probably 20 times or so, just because I was amazed that a knee and a skinny piece of leather could make a half-ton animal do what I wanted him to do.
After about 90 minutes of being amazed and spinally compressed, the lesson was over. I walked Rocky back over to the prep area, where I unsaddled him and then brushed him again. I helped take his bridle off, because that's something he actually *wanted* me to do, so he didn't fight it at all. I gave him a carrot and then took him back to his stall. I was freezing, and covered in dust, but it was fantastic. I just hoped that my four-times-over great-grandfather, who was in the 4th Iowa Cavalry in the Civil War, was even slightly proud of me.
Never would I have thought that I would be able to pull this off.
From the stable, we went for coffee (highly necessary after two hours outside), and then to the Albuquerque Museum of Art and History. We saw a great temporary exhibit ("Prelude to Spanish Modernism: Fortuny to Picasso"), to which RM was able to add great value and insight, as he is quite the accomplished painter himself. The history of Albuquerque is also presented, and there are lots of artifacts from the conquistadors. Absolutely fascinating. We took in a quick (and cold and windy) tour of Old Town Albuquerque, and then went for dinner and one more round of Scrabble. I'm pleased to say that I won the last game.
The next day I was at the airport at 6:00 a.m., saying goodbye to RM. It went very quickly, and it was great to see him and meet his wife. Hopefully it won't be another six years before we get together again.
RM rides Western style, and Mrs. RM rides English style. Considering that the saddle is much larger in the Western style, I chose it because I figured I would need all the help I could get to stay on the horse.
I'm scared to death of horses, so I was looking at this morning's activities as a challenge that needed surmounting. (Get it? Horses? Surmounting?) I figure that any animal that can look me in the eye without any effort is an animal worth a bit of respect (or fear, in my case).
Aside from knowing that I feared them, I knew really nothing much else about horses, so this was turning out to be quite an adventure. First, we retrieved my horse from his paddock. His name is Rocky, and he's 22 years old. This is a good thing, because I needed a horse who would be compliant and not up for any sort of mischief. We (the trainer and I) led Rocky from the paddock to the prep area (if there's a technical name for this part of the stable, please let me know). Once we got him attached to the fence in the prep area, I had to slide my hand down his legs and use a hoof pick on his feet. This is to make sure there are no rocks stuck between the shoe and foot, and also to check the status of the hoof. Next, I had to brush him with a curry comb, and then with the body and face brush. I brushed this horse for nearly half an hour, and he still had dust coming out of his coat. I think he manufactured it, frankly.
Once he was brushed, it was time for the application of the saddle. RM had an extra, so he was kind enough to let me use it. I put on the saddle blanket, the pad, and the saddle. I'm not all that mighty, but the stable owner seemed a bit impressed that I could just hoist the saddle up and over the horse in one smooth motion. Good for me. I got it in the right position, just behind the withers.
Then it was time to apply the bridle, which I wasn't about to attempt. I asked the stable owner to help me with this, because I didn't fancy putting my hand very close to the horse's mouth. Also, he had lots of green foamy stuff all around his lips, which made him look like Nort the Weedeater. Creepy. Once he was bridled, we walked over to the ring where the exciting stuff would take place. Not to sound horribly negative, but I think one of the worst parts of the entire experience was just walking the horse from place to place. His head was right next to mine, and it made me really uncomfortable. He was pretty low-key about the whole thing, though, so the transit occurred without incident.
I made it on top of the saddle, and just sat there for a few moments, just taking in the view and the realization that I (more or less) had gotten this animal ready to do this, and that I was actually doing this. Up to this point, I have failed to mention that it was only about 35F outside, so everything we did was COLD. Riding a horse in this weather just makes you colder, unless you're the horse. RM and Mrs. RM did their thing, while I was given basic instructions by the stable owner.
RM looks a little chilly, no?
My heels are down, just like they're supposed to be...
I was instructed how to hold the reins, and not to put my other hand on the saddle horn. I did the "click-click" thing with my tongue and squeezed my legs together, and we started moving. This was so cool. We walked around the perimeter of the ring a couple of times, and then I was told we should trot. Trotting, in theory, sounds wonderful. In practice it's something completely different. Because I don't know how to post (that is, stand in the stirrups and bounce gracefully with the rhythm of the horse), I just caromed off the saddle repeatedly. My theory is that you start riding at 6'2" and end up at 5'8" after your spine compresses from trotting.
We trotted around the ring, and then made circles at a trot. Rocky was a bit lazy—after we would take a corner at a trot he would automatically slow down to a walk. While my spine appreciated it, it didn't make the whole "you're supposed to slow down when I tell you to slow down" part of the relationship work. So I would click again and squeeze again and we'd commence trotting again.
The coolest thing for me (and I'm so simple-minded that this was cool for me) was the overback maneuver. Essentially, you're sitting there on your horse, but you want the horse to face the other direction. Simply by pushing in with the outside knee and just laying (not pulling on) the reins on the outside of the horse's neck, the horse will turn 180 degrees and stay put. Also, you have to turn your head in the direction you want the animal to turn, because although it doesn't look like it, horses can see pretty far behind them. The head turning is the visual cue they need to complete the maneuver. I did this overback thing probably 20 times or so, just because I was amazed that a knee and a skinny piece of leather could make a half-ton animal do what I wanted him to do.
I'm an old cowhand...
After about 90 minutes of being amazed and spinally compressed, the lesson was over. I walked Rocky back over to the prep area, where I unsaddled him and then brushed him again. I helped take his bridle off, because that's something he actually *wanted* me to do, so he didn't fight it at all. I gave him a carrot and then took him back to his stall. I was freezing, and covered in dust, but it was fantastic. I just hoped that my four-times-over great-grandfather, who was in the 4th Iowa Cavalry in the Civil War, was even slightly proud of me.
Never would I have thought that I would be able to pull this off.
From the stable, we went for coffee (highly necessary after two hours outside), and then to the Albuquerque Museum of Art and History. We saw a great temporary exhibit ("Prelude to Spanish Modernism: Fortuny to Picasso"), to which RM was able to add great value and insight, as he is quite the accomplished painter himself. The history of Albuquerque is also presented, and there are lots of artifacts from the conquistadors. Absolutely fascinating. We took in a quick (and cold and windy) tour of Old Town Albuquerque, and then went for dinner and one more round of Scrabble. I'm pleased to say that I won the last game.
This little guy is in front of the museum.
He looks so happy for someone who's going to be dinner shortly...
The next day I was at the airport at 6:00 a.m., saying goodbye to RM. It went very quickly, and it was great to see him and meet his wife. Hopefully it won't be another six years before we get together again.
posted by Sasquatch at
12:45 PM
3 Comments:
I would have loved a picture of you, with your helmet, riding the pig outside the museum.
Oh, Photoshop!!
By
Merujo, at 12/04/2005 4:04 PM
My great-grandfather was a First Sergeant in Co. G of the 4th Iowa Cavalry. What Co. was your ancestor in?
Frank Valliant, Leesburg FL
By
Anonymous, at 8/30/2006 10:05 PM
My g-g-g-g-g-grandfather was Lieutenant Elias B. Woodruff in F Company. Have you picked up a copy of the regimental history? I was lucky enough to find one at the NPS bookstore at Shiloh. Good stuff.
By
Sasquatch, at 8/31/2006 12:40 AM
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