I wrote this in my journal and figured I might as well post it. Sorry if it's long, but there was a lot to tell. 
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As I sit here writing this I'm looking out the window at my horse enjoying a well-deserved break and trying to ignore the stings of briar scratches up and down my arms. I know I'm about to type something I've already recounted numerous times already by request to my other horse-loving buddies.
But first, let me explain. My local riding club mustered up a group of volunteers for a mounted search and rescue team under the organization CERT (Community Emergency Response Team). My dad and I joined, naturally (the age limit was 15 for humans, I think, and none for horses so our younger horses could take part, too), and soon found ourselves on our first mock drill on horseback in the month of October. Shortly afterwards we were required to take a full-blown, 8-hour first aid/CPR course at the local Red Cross Center. Eight hours is a long, long time to be stuck inside on a nice day, but the course was definitely worth it. Everybody learned a lot, and I�m proud to say we all passed the tests issued to us with flying colors.
Well, this past Saturday we had our second mock drill from horseback. I was a little nervous about taking Blaze/Storm (she has two names- go figure), as I had not been riding her very much lately because she had been hit by a car a few months earlier, which had resulted in a hurt leg (back, left). She recovered rapidly, and the first time I got on her since she was just a little angel. Well, as angelic as she could be having her parentage and all, as well as a love for hairpin turns. However, because in the same accident our calm, elderly gelding had been killed we had no choice but to take her and Sloppy Jeaux, our three-year-old �knuckle-head.�
Now, Blaze hates trailers- except for at home. It was easy enough getting her in there back at headquarters, but we didn�t know what she�d do when we tried to get her back in. More on that later.
We got there early, just as planned, and met up with some of the other members. The first memorable moment of the day: dad was unloading Blaze first, leading her out of the trailer when suddenly she seemed to realize just then, �Oh my gosh I�m in a TRAILER!� She took a flying leap over the ramp, sending the trailer mats askew. Goofy horse. She might be black as coal, but on the inside I think she�s about as blonde as they come.
We tacked up (put the saddles and bridles on the horses) and watched everybody else roll on in. It didn�t take long before the whole team was there, and we were given the scenario. (Remember, this was just a mock drill, not the real thing.) We were to go out searching for a dummy: a 36-year-old male who had fallen out of his deerstand. According to the head of the team, he had broken his leg, phoned his mother on his cell phone, then lost contact. The dummy was somewhere between the oil line and the highline out in the woods.
Taking advantage of the dirt road running through the woodlands, we lined up our horses a few yards apart, facing the forest. On signal, we all moved forward.
We crashed through some of the heaviest brush I ever saw in my life. There were briars, brambles, thickets, trees, and vines three or four inches thick. This was land a fourwheeler couldn�t go through. Each member of the team had been issued a pair of super-sharp hedge trimmers that easily severed the thick vines when a horse got caught. They really came in handy, since Jeaux got caught a lot. He likes to go fast when you ride him, and we figured the brush would slow him down some, but it didn�t. He just bumbled on through like he does every day. Some parts were so thick that even with the neon-yellow vests we had on, a man not five feet in front of us could only be seen in slivers of color.
About half a mile into that infernal briar patch we came an oozing, soggy creek. When a horse put a hoof in, he sank. Blaze doesn�t like crossing water as it is, and though I�ve been working on her with that using a variety of methods (mainly John Lyons because it�s so easy on the horse) when she came to that bog of a creek, she just wouldn�t do it. (I was thinking of Sam from Lord of the Rings at that point: �Mr. Frodo! He�s led us into a bog!�) Several of the other horses wouldn�t cross either, and I don�t blame them.
Watching Jeaux cross (at long last) was even hard on me. The opposite bank was a steep one, and very slippery. His little feet would sink into all that slop and he�d diligently pull them out, one by one, his muscles straining so hard that his legs quivered, almost looking like they were about to snap. He finally made it over, splattered with mud, and my dad, Elvin, and Mr. Ricky all came over to help a couple other people and me. Laurie�s horse made it across as well, and I was hoping that some of that herd instinct would kick in and Blaze would follow the other horses, but she�s just a little too stubborn for that. Now, usually when something like this happens I�m known to spend up to an hour and a half on her, keeping patient and working with her until she realizes ��it�s okay�� and crosses herself, but we were in a bind for time and had to do something right then and there. Elvin and Mr. Repond started tapping her rump with a couple of sticks, giving a simple �go forward� cue. Tapping a little harder, then some, until it became a slap (not to worry- Blaze was not hurt) and a few cries of �Get on! Get, get, get!� she crossed. Next creek she came to, she went right on ahead, remembering her lesson- �creeks won�t hurt you.� I was so proud of her- she was really doing well, especially for that having been her first real trail since the accident three months ago.
Journeying along at a good pace considering the circumstances, we came to a patch of briars so thick not even the horses could go through it. It was along the path Mr. Ricky and Ryan were taking, so it was their job to see that it was searched. The rest of us moved on.
At long last we came to the second dirt road running through the boondocks. We had crossed all the way from the oil line to the highline, but with no sign of the dummy- or Mr. Ricky and Ryan. We were wondering what had happened to them when we got a call in from the walkie-talkie. It was Ricky. �Call up headquarters- Ryan got a thorn stuck an inch into his face just above his eye.� It was hard to say whether or not he was lucky as he rode up on his stocky bay horse. A thorn in your face isn�t a good thing by all means, but at least it wasn�t directly in his eye. One of the women who works up at the rest of the riding club events drove out onto the road in her SUV, ready to make an emergency room visit. But Ryan? The E.R.? Heck no. He pulled it out right then, and it wasn�t a thorn- no, that was a stick. This also gave Ms. Kathleen a good chance to catch up. She had gotten lost and separated back at the starting point and had gone back to the first road, then followed the car to the second one.
Everything went pretty smoothly after that little incident, despite the fact that we hadn�t found the dummy. We all knew where the deerstand was located and had seen it. There was even a mess of cotton next to it that had been repeatedly mistaken for our dummy. As it turned out, there was actually another highline and a whole new section of woods to scour.
We went along the road to line up our horses again, Blaze going at a fairly fast trot alongside Rollin�s roan gelding. Suddenly she stopped and shied away, then, satisfied that whatever had spooked her was no longer a threat, began again. I wondered aloud what had made her do that, to which Rollin replied, �She didn�t like the way that stick was looking at her.� Keeping Blaze�s history of �booger-phobia� in mind, I got a good laugh out of that.
Once again we crashed into the thicket, and once again, it wasn�t long before we came to another creek. Blaze had crossed several since that first one and we hadn�t had any problems. Even when she had second thoughts, Elvin, who had slapped her good and hard on the rump that first time, came to our rescue and shouted some warnings to her as to what would happen if she didn�t cross. Blaze hates Elvin now and we used that to our advantage. But back to the creek- this one was deep. Almost none of the horses wanted to cross it willingly. We had to find a good area where the bank wasn�t quite so steep and urge them on. As usual, Jeaux and the others crossed before Blaze even thought of doing so. Luckily, Rollin was there. My dad had already gone to the other side of the creek and was attempting to lead her over it by the reins (never lead a horse over a creek, folks- you�ll see what happens) and Rollin came over to help. He asked which one of all us there was the better rider, and we agreed that would be me. He told me to hang on real good, then got a big stick to cue Blaze with. �Ready?� he asked my dad.
�Yep.�
Then he said to me, �You got a good seat on that horse? Cuz she�s about to jump that creek.� And jump she did.
Blaze went sailing over it, and although I was on her neck at the start, by mid-jump I was on nearly on my back, parallel with the horse (which is actually the right way to do it). As she landed, I looked down to see my dad under Blaze. She had knocked him down, but he was all right, and related it all to the scene in The Two Towers where the Riders of Rohan nearly crush Pippin.
After searching that section of the woods, we finally made our way back to the first section through a right-a-way running through the forest. Everybody decided that the best thing to do would be to check in that briar patch near the deerstand that had been overlooked and abandoned after Ryan had been stuck by the twig. A few people stayed back as horse-holders while the rest went on foot. I stayed back and held Gary�s palomino, seeing as everybody else had their hands full already.
We were to use the skills we had learned in the first-aid course to assess the damage done to dummy, what to do about it, and splint his leg. There were supposed to be notes pinned to him saying what else was wrong, but they never found them. A couple minutes later they radioed in on the walkie-talkie.
�We found the dummy,� they said. When asked what they were doing first off they replied, �We�re searching him for money right now.� After that they got serious and splinted the leg appropriately. Since they used the same dummy from last time, which had no head, there was no point in checking for concussions.
This mock drill was a particularly special one because the police station and ambulance crew had volunteered to help, making the situation seem all the more realistic. They met us on the right-a-way and congratulated us for working so fast. We�d made good time in our last drill, too, so I�m guessing that�s a pretty good sign.
Afterwards we all cantered back along the dirt road, and dad and I raced Blaze and Jeaux on the way back. Jeaux is getting faster as he gets older, but he�s still no match for Blaze.
If you�ll remember, near the beginning I told you I�d get back to what happened with loading Blaze back in the trailer. It was the fastest she ever got in. Mr. Repond and Rollin both had crops (short nylon sticks) ready to tap her rump and cue her if needed. They were warned by me not to hit her too hard, or I�d whack them right back. Nobody messes with my BlazeFace. It didn�t take any tapping at all, as a matter of fact. Elvin got right up behind her, called out, �Get on, horse!� and she hopped right in that trailer. I told you she hates Elvin.
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Wow, that was long. :lol:
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As I sit here writing this I'm looking out the window at my horse enjoying a well-deserved break and trying to ignore the stings of briar scratches up and down my arms. I know I'm about to type something I've already recounted numerous times already by request to my other horse-loving buddies.
But first, let me explain. My local riding club mustered up a group of volunteers for a mounted search and rescue team under the organization CERT (Community Emergency Response Team). My dad and I joined, naturally (the age limit was 15 for humans, I think, and none for horses so our younger horses could take part, too), and soon found ourselves on our first mock drill on horseback in the month of October. Shortly afterwards we were required to take a full-blown, 8-hour first aid/CPR course at the local Red Cross Center. Eight hours is a long, long time to be stuck inside on a nice day, but the course was definitely worth it. Everybody learned a lot, and I�m proud to say we all passed the tests issued to us with flying colors.
Well, this past Saturday we had our second mock drill from horseback. I was a little nervous about taking Blaze/Storm (she has two names- go figure), as I had not been riding her very much lately because she had been hit by a car a few months earlier, which had resulted in a hurt leg (back, left). She recovered rapidly, and the first time I got on her since she was just a little angel. Well, as angelic as she could be having her parentage and all, as well as a love for hairpin turns. However, because in the same accident our calm, elderly gelding had been killed we had no choice but to take her and Sloppy Jeaux, our three-year-old �knuckle-head.�
Now, Blaze hates trailers- except for at home. It was easy enough getting her in there back at headquarters, but we didn�t know what she�d do when we tried to get her back in. More on that later.
We got there early, just as planned, and met up with some of the other members. The first memorable moment of the day: dad was unloading Blaze first, leading her out of the trailer when suddenly she seemed to realize just then, �Oh my gosh I�m in a TRAILER!� She took a flying leap over the ramp, sending the trailer mats askew. Goofy horse. She might be black as coal, but on the inside I think she�s about as blonde as they come.
We tacked up (put the saddles and bridles on the horses) and watched everybody else roll on in. It didn�t take long before the whole team was there, and we were given the scenario. (Remember, this was just a mock drill, not the real thing.) We were to go out searching for a dummy: a 36-year-old male who had fallen out of his deerstand. According to the head of the team, he had broken his leg, phoned his mother on his cell phone, then lost contact. The dummy was somewhere between the oil line and the highline out in the woods.
Taking advantage of the dirt road running through the woodlands, we lined up our horses a few yards apart, facing the forest. On signal, we all moved forward.
We crashed through some of the heaviest brush I ever saw in my life. There were briars, brambles, thickets, trees, and vines three or four inches thick. This was land a fourwheeler couldn�t go through. Each member of the team had been issued a pair of super-sharp hedge trimmers that easily severed the thick vines when a horse got caught. They really came in handy, since Jeaux got caught a lot. He likes to go fast when you ride him, and we figured the brush would slow him down some, but it didn�t. He just bumbled on through like he does every day. Some parts were so thick that even with the neon-yellow vests we had on, a man not five feet in front of us could only be seen in slivers of color.
About half a mile into that infernal briar patch we came an oozing, soggy creek. When a horse put a hoof in, he sank. Blaze doesn�t like crossing water as it is, and though I�ve been working on her with that using a variety of methods (mainly John Lyons because it�s so easy on the horse) when she came to that bog of a creek, she just wouldn�t do it. (I was thinking of Sam from Lord of the Rings at that point: �Mr. Frodo! He�s led us into a bog!�) Several of the other horses wouldn�t cross either, and I don�t blame them.
Watching Jeaux cross (at long last) was even hard on me. The opposite bank was a steep one, and very slippery. His little feet would sink into all that slop and he�d diligently pull them out, one by one, his muscles straining so hard that his legs quivered, almost looking like they were about to snap. He finally made it over, splattered with mud, and my dad, Elvin, and Mr. Ricky all came over to help a couple other people and me. Laurie�s horse made it across as well, and I was hoping that some of that herd instinct would kick in and Blaze would follow the other horses, but she�s just a little too stubborn for that. Now, usually when something like this happens I�m known to spend up to an hour and a half on her, keeping patient and working with her until she realizes ��it�s okay�� and crosses herself, but we were in a bind for time and had to do something right then and there. Elvin and Mr. Repond started tapping her rump with a couple of sticks, giving a simple �go forward� cue. Tapping a little harder, then some, until it became a slap (not to worry- Blaze was not hurt) and a few cries of �Get on! Get, get, get!� she crossed. Next creek she came to, she went right on ahead, remembering her lesson- �creeks won�t hurt you.� I was so proud of her- she was really doing well, especially for that having been her first real trail since the accident three months ago.
Journeying along at a good pace considering the circumstances, we came to a patch of briars so thick not even the horses could go through it. It was along the path Mr. Ricky and Ryan were taking, so it was their job to see that it was searched. The rest of us moved on.
At long last we came to the second dirt road running through the boondocks. We had crossed all the way from the oil line to the highline, but with no sign of the dummy- or Mr. Ricky and Ryan. We were wondering what had happened to them when we got a call in from the walkie-talkie. It was Ricky. �Call up headquarters- Ryan got a thorn stuck an inch into his face just above his eye.� It was hard to say whether or not he was lucky as he rode up on his stocky bay horse. A thorn in your face isn�t a good thing by all means, but at least it wasn�t directly in his eye. One of the women who works up at the rest of the riding club events drove out onto the road in her SUV, ready to make an emergency room visit. But Ryan? The E.R.? Heck no. He pulled it out right then, and it wasn�t a thorn- no, that was a stick. This also gave Ms. Kathleen a good chance to catch up. She had gotten lost and separated back at the starting point and had gone back to the first road, then followed the car to the second one.
Everything went pretty smoothly after that little incident, despite the fact that we hadn�t found the dummy. We all knew where the deerstand was located and had seen it. There was even a mess of cotton next to it that had been repeatedly mistaken for our dummy. As it turned out, there was actually another highline and a whole new section of woods to scour.
We went along the road to line up our horses again, Blaze going at a fairly fast trot alongside Rollin�s roan gelding. Suddenly she stopped and shied away, then, satisfied that whatever had spooked her was no longer a threat, began again. I wondered aloud what had made her do that, to which Rollin replied, �She didn�t like the way that stick was looking at her.� Keeping Blaze�s history of �booger-phobia� in mind, I got a good laugh out of that.
Once again we crashed into the thicket, and once again, it wasn�t long before we came to another creek. Blaze had crossed several since that first one and we hadn�t had any problems. Even when she had second thoughts, Elvin, who had slapped her good and hard on the rump that first time, came to our rescue and shouted some warnings to her as to what would happen if she didn�t cross. Blaze hates Elvin now and we used that to our advantage. But back to the creek- this one was deep. Almost none of the horses wanted to cross it willingly. We had to find a good area where the bank wasn�t quite so steep and urge them on. As usual, Jeaux and the others crossed before Blaze even thought of doing so. Luckily, Rollin was there. My dad had already gone to the other side of the creek and was attempting to lead her over it by the reins (never lead a horse over a creek, folks- you�ll see what happens) and Rollin came over to help. He asked which one of all us there was the better rider, and we agreed that would be me. He told me to hang on real good, then got a big stick to cue Blaze with. �Ready?� he asked my dad.
�Yep.�
Then he said to me, �You got a good seat on that horse? Cuz she�s about to jump that creek.� And jump she did.
Blaze went sailing over it, and although I was on her neck at the start, by mid-jump I was on nearly on my back, parallel with the horse (which is actually the right way to do it). As she landed, I looked down to see my dad under Blaze. She had knocked him down, but he was all right, and related it all to the scene in The Two Towers where the Riders of Rohan nearly crush Pippin.
After searching that section of the woods, we finally made our way back to the first section through a right-a-way running through the forest. Everybody decided that the best thing to do would be to check in that briar patch near the deerstand that had been overlooked and abandoned after Ryan had been stuck by the twig. A few people stayed back as horse-holders while the rest went on foot. I stayed back and held Gary�s palomino, seeing as everybody else had their hands full already.
We were to use the skills we had learned in the first-aid course to assess the damage done to dummy, what to do about it, and splint his leg. There were supposed to be notes pinned to him saying what else was wrong, but they never found them. A couple minutes later they radioed in on the walkie-talkie.
�We found the dummy,� they said. When asked what they were doing first off they replied, �We�re searching him for money right now.� After that they got serious and splinted the leg appropriately. Since they used the same dummy from last time, which had no head, there was no point in checking for concussions.
This mock drill was a particularly special one because the police station and ambulance crew had volunteered to help, making the situation seem all the more realistic. They met us on the right-a-way and congratulated us for working so fast. We�d made good time in our last drill, too, so I�m guessing that�s a pretty good sign.
Afterwards we all cantered back along the dirt road, and dad and I raced Blaze and Jeaux on the way back. Jeaux is getting faster as he gets older, but he�s still no match for Blaze.
If you�ll remember, near the beginning I told you I�d get back to what happened with loading Blaze back in the trailer. It was the fastest she ever got in. Mr. Repond and Rollin both had crops (short nylon sticks) ready to tap her rump and cue her if needed. They were warned by me not to hit her too hard, or I�d whack them right back. Nobody messes with my BlazeFace. It didn�t take any tapping at all, as a matter of fact. Elvin got right up behind her, called out, �Get on, horse!� and she hopped right in that trailer. I told you she hates Elvin.
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Wow, that was long. :lol:
