March 2010 PonyCare: A Barrel of Fun Part I
By Margaret Evans
SOLVE THE PRINTABLE CROSSWORD HERE
“This is going to be such fun!” Anita laughed as she got things ready in the barn for the weekend clinic at Horse Hair Ranch. It was such a gorgeous place near the mountains and she couldn’t wait to get there.
“The biggest fun is mountain biking and hiking,” grinned Matt. “Me an’ Sean can’t wait to take the rock climbing clinic.”
“Remember what Dad said.” Anita groaned inwardly. That image of her brother and his friend scaling cliffs conjured up all kinds of hazards she didn’t want to contemplate, knowing their impetuous enthusiasm.
Packing Penny’s trunk, she checked her list taped to the inside of the lid. She packed the first aid kit, stable wraps, splint boots, saddle pads, extra girth, extra halter and shanks, cool-out rug, and a stable rug. Penny’s tack, grooming kit, and water bucket were already in the trailer. She fastened down the trunk. Dad would load it after supper.
Penny ignored her hay and watched Anita closely, circling her stall in anticipation. She sensed something was up and nickered impatiently each time Anita came by her. Anita grinned and gave her a hug before running into the house to pack riding and casual clothes, pajamas, and toiletries into a small backpack. She paused. She and Sandie had registered in an introduction to barrel racing clinic. Should she pack her blue jeans, Western shirt, and vest to ride in? Why not? Tossing them in, she snapped up the backpack, and put it with all the gear ready to go. They’d be gone for the Easter weekend, the family’s first trip out of town since last year, and she and Sandy were so excited, despite their doubts at first.
“I tried barrel racing a few years ago,” Sandie had said when deciding to register. “But the clinic was too advanced for me.”
Anita had hesitated. “I don’t know if Penny will be okay with barrel racing…”
“They ride Quarter Horses mostly. Fanny’s just a mule.”
Anita had glanced quickly at her. “She isn’t ‘just’ anything. She’s a lovely mule.”
They had pushed doubts aside as the clinic drew closer and the activity became a family affair.
“Emily Maguire called,” grinned Mom as she put chicken pasta and hot rolls on the table. “We’ve got the two cabins overlooking the lake.”
“So Sandie and Sean are right next to us!” grinned Anita.
“Sweet!” shouted Matt. “We can go out any time we want!”
“No, you can’t,” said Dad, not even looking up from his steaming plate.
Mom put the water jug on the table. “It’s too bad Auntie Wendie and Meridy couldn’t come.”
“Or Jill,” added Anita. “But they really wanted to compete in the dressage show at Blue Meadows. Unlucky clash of dates.”
“Are we still leaving first thing?” asked Matt.
“Right after breakfast,” nodded Dad. “Denise will be here at eight so we can all drive together. We’ll pack everything tonight.”
“We’re taking Squirt and Pete’s looking after Tiddles, right?” Anita asked about the family’s dog and cat.
“Of course,” said Mom. “Pete loves Tiddles. Anyway, she thinks his house next door is as much hers as this one.”
As mountain bikes, hiking stuff, and pony gear got stowed, Dad reminded Anita and Matt that even though it was spring, there was still snow in the hills and ice on the lake.
“Don’t become a search subject,” he warned with a frown fixed on Matt. Anita had a feeling he shouldn’t have said that; Matt had a way of turning warnings into realities.
They leaving Brokeville the next morning, chasing rain squalls as they headed for the hills. Right behind them were Sandie, her brother Sean, and their mom Denise driving their truck and trailer. The ranch was a three hours away and Anita got more excited as the kilometers sped by. The huge spread had 200 head of Hereford cattle and the Maguires also bred Quarter Horses. They offered clinics and trail rides from spring to fall. It was quite the tourist destination and when they last visited, Anita, Sandie, and the boys had found a map of the ranch which had been lost since the late 1800s.
Finally, the great welcoming timber arches and the sprawling ranch house came into view. Moments later they were warmly greeted by Emily and Patrick Maguire, ranch owners.
“Great to see you again!” grinned Mrs. Maguire. “Girls, you go unload. Your stalls are ready with your ponies’ names on them. I’ll show your parents the cabins.”
Penny and Fanny were anxious to get moving and check out new sights and smells. The girls walked them for 15 minutes, then put them in their box stalls already prepared with bedding, hay, and water.
In the cabins, parents were unpacking a few things while the boys were testing their bikes on the trail by the lake. Calling them up, the families went to the dining room for a buffet lunch of soup, sandwiches, and brownies. As Anita took her tray to a table, she noticed a framed map on the wall. Grinning at Sandie, they went to look at it more closely.
“I knew you’d appreciate that.” Emily Maguire’s warm voice caught their attention.
“It’s still so cool,” smiled Anita, remembering when Matt had fallen through the rotting planks in the old pioneer log cabin on the ranch. Hidden in the dugout beneath was the map rolled in a leather pouch. The Maguires had been stunned by its discovery.
“That was a scary day,” Matt admitted.
“Don’t go trying to match it this weekend,” smiled Dad good-naturedly.
“The cabin has been fixed up,” said Patrick Maguire, joining them. “It’s being used right now as base camp for a team of archeologists doing a dig in the north quarter.”
“No way!” Sean’s eyes were like saucers.
“Some of our ranch hands were checking cattle near White Goat Bluff last summer. A stream bank let go after heavy rain and they found bones and a few arrow heads. We took them to Brokeville University and they sent a team out to do some excavations here this spring and summer. Pretty exciting stuff.”
“I bet,” Anita gasped. She loved ancient history and socials and geology and digs. “Can we…?”
“See it?” Mr. Maguire chuckled at her enthusiasm. “I’m sure.”
Finishing lunch, the girls were excited to see that some of their riding friends from Blue Meadows Equestrian Centre, where they rode at home, were also registered in clinics this weekend.
“Hey, Marion,” grinned Anita. “What are you riding in? How’s Whitewash?”
“He’s perfect,” she grinned. “I was going to do the dressage show but I really wanted to try reining. It looks like so much fun and I’ve never done Western before. Did you know Danielle’s here with George? She’s doing team penning with him.”
“We registered in barrel racing,” grinned Sandie.
“You’ll love it. Talk about speed and precision,” said Marion.
“I thought about team penning with Penny but she’s not good with cows even though we’ve done charity cattle drives before.”
“There’s evening demos in the indoor arena. They’re doing team penning tonight, barrel racing tomorrow, and reining Sunday.”
As the girls were tacking up for the afternoon riding session, Matt and Sean ran into the barn, propping their bikes outside.
“We’re off for a bike ride,” said Matt.
“With a guide I hope,” said Anita.
“Jake. He took us last time we were here.”
“And he’s actually taking you again??!!”
Sean blew a raspberry as they raced off on their bikes. Anita rolled her eyes at Sandie, who shrugged with a fatalistic grin.
The afternoon riding session was huge fun. In total there were 24 riders divided into groups between various arenas. Anita and Sandie met Molly Mumford who would be teaching some of the Western clinics, including barrel racing. It was a chance for instructors to get to know the riders, find out what they hoped to achieve over the weekend, and learn the capabilities of their horses and ponies. She was really impressed to have a mule in her group.
Molly was really friendly. She was short and lithe with a bubble of auburn hair, hazel eyes, and clear skin weathered by years of life in the saddle. But her smile was huge, which helped to put Anita at ease. Inwardly, she was still unsure about doing barrel racing, knowing how excitable Penny could be. She didn’t want any accidents. But when Molly assured them that they would be learning the sport at a slow pace, Anita’s confidence began to return. She told them that it takes several years to train and condition a young horse to race the cloverleaf pattern and develop the muscle strength for the quick short speeds and turning ability to compete at high levels.
They learned that organized barrel racing had started in Texas in the 1940s when the wives and daughters of rodeo competitors wanted to start a sport just for themselves. Back then, nothing seemed simpler than racing around three barrels in a set pattern, the fastest one winning. Over time, the measurements between the barrels and the start/finish line became fixed and the Women’s Professional Rodeo Association set down rules and regulations. Now it’s a huge sport with a big following.
They spent most of the session doing flat work, then working on one barrel by simply trotting to it, circling it, and returning to the start. Then they repeated the exercise on the other rein, circling the barrel and returning to the group. Knowing that horses and ponies are often less flexible on one side than the other, it was easy for Molly to see which ones in her group would need to do more conditioning on a particular lead to build strength and flexibility. Anita knew that Penny always went slightly better on the left rein so she always spent a bit more time on the right during their warm ups.
The next morning Anita and Sandie went to the barn early to feed and clean Penny and Fanny. Their clinic started at 9:30 so they allowed themselves plenty of time to groom and tack up. Anita was putting on Penny’s splint boots when Mom appeared.
“We’re off for our bike ride,” she grinned. “Squirt’s coming with us.”
“Not watching the boys climb rocks?” Anita grinned back.
“They need to focus on their instructor,” grimaced Mom exaggeratedly. “I dare not distract them! Have a great ride, honey. Thank goodness it stopped raining.”
“Hope it stays stopped.”
The girls mounted and rode into the arena where the barrels were set in a triangle. Anita warmed up Penny at the walk, then picked up the pace at the trot, changed reins and included some 20 metre circles. Sandie was close behind and their riding companions were all focusing on being ready to work when Molly arrived. She was impressed; there was nothing more rewarding than riders ready to ride.
“Okay,” she said after they had continued flat work under her eye, “you’re going to circle each of these three barrels in the cloverleaf pattern we talked about yesterday. You’ll cross the start line, then circle barrel number one to the right on the right rein and barrels two and three on the left rein. What’s important is that you set up your turns around the barrels so that each turn is an even half circle around the barrel before you leave it for the next. We’ll do this at the trot so you get the feel of it. Sandie, you go first.”
Anita watched closely as Sandie moved Fanny into a working trot, eyed the first barrel, and circled it evenly. She was a little wide on the second barrel and a bit uneven on the third before crossing the finish line at a nice extended trot. One by one they did the barrels, each rider discovering in her own way how important the set-up for the pattern was as they looped through the run. Anita loved it. It required a lot more precision than she had expected as she controlled Penny’s bend on each half circle, then extended the trot into the next barrel loop. She could see how easy it would be to get totally absorbed with the perfection of riding the pattern. When she thought of riding this at high speed she could only begin to imagine the fitness, conditioning, and precision a horse would need for a perfect run that was scored on fractions of a second.
As each rider did the pattern a number of times, they worked on small details and improved their turns. For their final go-round, Molly timed each rider and they were surprised how close their times were. They cheered each other on, shouted with delight, and laughed at their mistakes. It was one of their best clinic experiences. After cooling out, Anita and Sandie left their animals with hay and water before going for lunch.
“That was terrific fun!” Anita grinned at Mom and Dad as they all met in the line-up for a buffet lunch of cold cuts, vegetables, and rolls. The girls were starving.
“Not as much terrific fun as us on the rock wall,” shouted Matt. “We climbed all morning.”
“Now I know why we need rock climbing shoes and chalk,” grinned Sean, waving his bag. “Jimmy showed us how to place our feet and hands and how to grip and use our legs right.”
“Did you?” grinned his Mom.
“Yea,” he nodded then added, “I’m sore now though.”
“No doubt.”
“We’re mountain bike riding this afternoon,” said Matt.
“We’re trail riding,” said Sandie.
“We’re hiking the bluffs,” said Anita’s Mom.
“Isn’t that a long way?” Anita asked.
“We’ll drive to the Goat Bluff trailhead then hike the short loop from there.”
After lunch, Anita and Sandie picked up a self-guiding trail map from the office, tacked up, and packed some trail essentials into their saddle bags including first aid items, hoof pick, compass, water bottle, snack, binoculars, a whistle, and rain gear. Soon they set out for a relaxing ride.
The rain clouds had scattered and a warm afternoon sun was finally chasing the puddles away. Following the main trail north, they trotted through the cottonwoods, then picked the trail that wound toward a rise that gave them a spectacular view of the valley. Snow still clung in the gullies but everywhere the trees were starting to green up. A hawk soared silently on a rising thermal. Along the trail were fresh deer tracks. Anita pulled out her map to check some landmarks.
“Hey Sandie,” she pointed. “This trail intersects the hiking trail to White Goat Bluffs. I bet we’ll see Mom and Dad along the way.”
“The boys too, most likely,” nodded Sandie. “It’s part of the interconnecting loops the hikers, bikers, and riders use. It’s so cool how they’ve done it so people don’t get lost.”
“Hopefully,” grinned Anita.
They trotted on and half an hour later linked with the hiking and biking trails. Following the equestrian signs, their trail followed a lower gradient. It passed the cut-off trail that led to the old cabin the archaeologists were using as a base.
They hadn’t gone far before Penny hesitated for just a moment, pricking her ears. Quick to catch her cue, Anita looked up, listened, and quietly talked to her while patting her neck. But seeing nothing ahead, she urged her on. Sandie glanced around, realizing that Fanny was also more alert.
They rode on, not saying much as they kept a close eye on their surroundings. This was wild country, known for bears, and Anita knew from experience that Penny seldom alerted for nothing. She pulled out her map and checked their direction while Sandie took a bearing with her compass.
“If I’ve got this right, we’re pretty close to the dig site,” she said, looking around.
“There’s another lookout coming up,” said Anita. “Let’s stop and see if we can see it. Wonder what Penny heard…”
It was almost eerily quiet when they dismounted. There was a hitching rail close by but the girls dropped their ponies’ bits, fastened shanks to the halters under the bridles, and held them as they grazed.
The sweep of the bluffs was stunning. Through their binoculars they could see the dig site close to the base and near a stream. It was carefully measured, marked, and taped. There were several tents where artifacts were collected and recorded before being transported to the university.
Absorbed in observing the dig site, Anita didn’t notice Penny’s sudden alert behaviour. Then she felt something. Beneath her feet the ground trembled slightly and she could hear a roar coming from somewhere.
“What’s that?”
The roar intensified. Anita and Sandie stared at each other in horror as Penny and Fanny started to panic. Beyond, the face of the bluff began to let go as a rockslide started to plummet toward the scientists below.
PART II FEATURED IN THE APRIL 2010 EDITION OF CANADIAN HORSE JOURNAL, & ONLINE IN EARLY MAY 2010