There and back Again

[ChrisKavanaugh]

Temperatures are easily reaching 100 FH here. The very idea of an open fire is insane and the first hints of our feared annual Santa Anna winds and the fires can be felt. I was offered the chance to sort out a huge red Irish Thoroughbred just off the racetrack. Typically, he knows one thing, go fast in one direction to the left. So I was up well before dawn tacking this rocket up with my 1880s stock saddle. I slipped a western sidepull on his head, tied off a few very basic supplies ( water,water and just in case more water) and mounted up. Within a few steps we flushed a massive covey of California Quail in the early coastal fog and were OFF!!!! We almost ran down Pamela Lee Anderson jogging from her mansion next door and I just let the horse open up down the fireroad. We almost trampled a pair of coyotes nonchalantly trotting ahead of us seeking ground squirrels and raced a deer. I finally managed to get him going up a steep hillside to let gravity work it's wonders. But he just kept on and I realised tumbling down wasn't a viable option. So I'm coaxing him on like Yeager in The Right Stuff talking to his starfighter. We made the ridgeline and then he thinks I'm The Man From Snowy River and down we go the other side. I don't know where the musicians hide in all these movies. There was no melodramatic soundtrack, just me talking to myself in the third person figuring out how to shift wieght correctly every few seconds and semi steer this juggernaught around boulders and cactus. We finally made it to the canyon bottom and quietly rode to the ocean. I hate not finishing a trip, and we crossed the Pacific Coast Highway. We suprised a few surfers and early joggers. Then the lifeguard drove up all upset, telling me I can't have a horse on the beach.Why not? Well, dogs arent allowed unless leashed. But this isn't a dog, it's a horse, and anyway my reins are certainly as good as a leash. well, you can't be here. So I leave, crossing the PCH again in front of an astonished Highway Patrol Officer. I think he turned his lights on, but we were well up the canyon and into the scrub before any Pavlovian response to authority kicked in. A different route took us to the clifftop overlooking everything. I could see the Channel Islands, a whale cruising by and the timeless expanse of the Pacific, crumpled like aluminium in the morning sun. My companion by now was figuring out SLOW can be a good deal too. As we truned for home a Golden Eagle glided silently alongside within reach, it's yellow eye reaching into mine. We went up the canyon under the canopy of California Big Leafed Sycamores until rocks forced us back up. We arrived back in time for poor Pamela to give us a dirty look while backing out in some black Mercedes. I stripped us both down ( the horse, not Pam) and we both took a dip in the stock pond. I was walking him back when the owner showed up with another trainer. Said trainer was very concerned about me walking such a high strung animal without a stud chain for control. I promised to remember that. the trainer assured the owner she could have somebody on the horse safely trailriding in 3 months minimum. :?:

 

[RovingArcher]

Hmm, didn't really surprise ya did it? sounds like you had a great ride.

It's been hot here too but is slightly cooler at 90 or so.

 

[bushwacker bob]

Ha Ha Chris,Most of the Thoroughbreds I've met are like that!I once owned an ex racer and she bounced on the spot afew times to alert you of an impending,but not nessicarily planned,mile and a half at full gallop.Sounds a pretty good ride after the dangerous bit(avoiding Pam)