The Sunday Riders

I was happy that we were able to go on a trail ride on Sunday. We ride on a 5000 acre tree farm. We arrived at the trail head parking lot at 10:30 a.m., barely getting the last available parking spot. It was sunny and warm, but not near the 90 degrees it had been on Saturday. Before we rode out, we noticed this cowboy and his Paint. We knew it was a Mustang because of the brand on it's neck. We followed him for a while down the trail. We eventually passed him up and chatted with him briefly. His mare was a 4 year old Mustang from one of the Oregon herds. My, was she built! My sister was doing the wink wink, nudge nudge, this guy is cute look. But she did not invite him to ride with us. What kind of wing man is she, anyway? My Boy was not happy on these wooded and brushy trails. They were muddy (he protests, but goes through it.) Lots of logs to walk over. Every step he takes, little woodland bugs rise up and bat his head. No amount of fly spray helps here. They are not even aiming for him. They are just bouncing off his face. Poor Boy, he is so annoyed.
Wide open spaces. This was better. He much prefers these wide, sunny, dry trails. I called My Boy "the tailgater" yesterday. He does not usually do that. Looking at this desolate, logged land is kind of sad. There are trails down in and out of these huge deep craters. We imagined that at one time, in the dinosaur days, those craters were lakes. Now, they are just filled with stumps and fallen logs.
When My Boy gets a turn to be in the lead, he is so funny. His little ears perk forward and he walks fast. He is on the lookout for danger. Stumps camouflaged as bears. Giant metal culverts.
What are you looking at silly boy? There is no bear over there! Wait, are you looking at that Mustang cowboy? Where did he go?
We make a pit stop. There is a nice meadow, a BBQ area for sanctioned rides, and of course, Honeybuckets. I ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Guess who was trying to get a bite? I did not give him one. How do I know he's not allergic to peanuts?
Time to head back. Back into the woods. Sorry Boy, I know the buggins are going to get ya again.

Somehow, on the way home, My Boy always falls way behind. You know what is great about this horse? He just keeps his pace. He does not even get concerned when they disappear around the corner. No panic. No trying to speed up and jig. I love that about him.

Here is the bridge that we have to cross near the end. Oh goodness, this bridge is short and narrow, but rather high up. We call it the "duck bridge." Because every time my sister leads us across it on her mare Brandy, the ducks fly up out of the creek and spook her. One time all four of Brandy's legs splayed out in panic and my sister was sure they were going over. You know what? Taking pictures while crossing the bridge sure helps take your mind off of crossing the bridge!

I love this house. I do not know who lives there. But I say I love that house every time we ride by it. It is on the road we take back into the trail head parking lot. Just think, these trails are in their backyard! I love the ranch style of the house. I'd spend most of my time on that wraparound porch. Watching my cowpoke children playing in the dirt and reading Western Horseman while my cowboy well, um, maybe he's cooking me dinner. They also have some nice Paints and Appy's in their pasture. Hey cool house owners, if you ever want to give your house away, will you give me a call?

Back at the trailer. We have some tired horses and wet saddle blankets. It will take some time to get back into trail riding shape! For this Pony Girl too, who was quite sore today after spending almost three hours in the saddle!

My Boy and his girls are loaded up and ready to go home.

Awww....nothing like getting a hose down on a warm day when you are itchy with sweat. Since my camera has become my additional appendage, my sister was kind enough to squeegee him off for me. Guess what My Boy did the minute I put him in the pasture? You guessed it. A well-deserved roll in the dirt!