Twelve Miles

A few weeks ago, I mentioned to Jack that it would be nice if some Saturday we could take the bikes and check out the Santa Fe Trail. We pass the trail head every time we leave our valley, but I have only walked on it a few times.

We took the bikes in the truck to the Baptist Road trail head, and decided to ride north, toward Monument. I figured we would get to Monument if we were lucky, because it had been a long time since I had been on a bicycle.

The stretch between Baptist Road and Monument is probably one of the least pretty sections of the trail. When we got to Monument, I told Jack I thought I could go a little further. There is a very gradual climb after Monument, but it didn’t seem to be bothering me. After a mile or so, Jack and I realized that we weren’t more than two miles from Palmer Lake. We knew there were several places to eat there, so we decided to press on. The section between Monument and Palmer Lake is quite scenic, and I wished I had brought my camera. Aside from the lake, Palmer Lake has a number of places to eat, many of which seem to be frequented by motorcycle riders.

We ate at a small restaurant called the Depot. We didn’t have anything to lock our bikes with, but they are so old (and in my case, decrepit) that we didn’t worry about leaving them outside tucked out of the way. From the window, we could see the tiny Palmer Lake, which is more mud than water at this point. (Not only is it suffering from the years long drought, but there are evidently engineering problems that are decades old.)

When we left the restaurant, the wind had come up, but it was still fairly pleasant. By the time we got back to Monument it was even windier, and I realized to my chagrin that the trail was flat between Monument and Baptist Road. This wouldn’t have been a problem, except we were cycling into a fifteen to twenty miles per hour wind, and there was no coasting. If I had been in a gym, I would have turned down the intensity on the machine. As it was, I stopped and rested in one of the little shelters provided along the way, just so I could face away from the wind for a few minutes. I was very happy to see our trail head.

Altogether, we cycled about twelve miles today: not much for real cyclists, but good for someone who hasn’t been on a bike in over a year.

Horse Play

Yesterday, after working Lily in the round pen, I watched the horses for a while before going back in the house. Smoke and Lily started playing their usual game. For the first time I recognized the game Smoke, at least, was playing: Steal the Mare. Geldings in mixed herds will occasionally try to form their own little harems, keeping “their” mares separate from the rest of the horses. Lily seemed perfectly willing to participate, cheerfully flirting, as long as she didn’t have to actually leave Rags, the third horse in the little herd. Her stride is longer than Smoke’s was two decades ago, so it was entertaining to watch her lope along beside Smoke being careful not to run faster than him, before ducking back to Rags.

Although this is the equine equivalent of the octagenarian chasing the cute young nurse around the hospital bed, I am happy to see that 28 year old Smoke feels good enough to attempt it. I am also glad to see that Lily enjoys the game, since mares can be nasty if they think they are being bothered by a gelding.

Lily

Lily trotting

Last week, I decided it was time to start working with Lily to get her legged up a bit, before I put her back to work under saddle. We’ve had a round pen to the east of the house for years, but I have rarely used it except for temporarily confining a horse where I could see it from the house. It seems almost odd to be using it for its traditional purpose.

I don’t want her to run around like an idiot in the round pen (and possibly reinjure herself) so I am using clicker training to reward her for trotting forward in a sensible manner. Since she likes to trot with her nose four inches off the ground, I click her (and give her a treat) when she carries her head with her poll slightly above her withers, as in this photo I took yesterday. (For the non-horsey set, the poll is the spot between the ears, and forward means energetic without rushing.) Eventually, I will only reward her when she lifts her forehand a bit more, and takes more weight on her hindquarters, but right now my reward criteria are sensible, forward, and poll above the withers.

She doesn’t seem at all upset that her nine month long convalescence is over.