Jim and Jennifer Conferring over the Map

This is (yet another) long post, but I figured that I’d include as much detail as I could for people who might be interested in doing a trail trial – there are two more coming up in July and August. One of them is at Round Valley, which is the back side of Mt. Diablo, and the other is in Walnut Creek.  Check the Trail Trials website for details.

On Saturday, 26 June, Sunny and I did the 2nd Annual Banana Slug Trail Trial, put on by the Santa Cruz County Horseman’s Association.  We did the inaugural event last year (and blogged about it here ), but that was Sunny’s first time out in a large group of horses, so we mostly just survived. This time I was hoping we could do most of the obstacles in an organized fashion.

For those who don’t know, according to the CSHA Trail Trials (TT) group:

A “TT” consists of a ride with approximately 10-12 judged natural obstacles that appear along a trail of several miles in parks or private property. This is not an arena event!

It’s not timed, and people go out in groups on trails, in this case, in Henry Cowell State Park.  The obstacles, usually ones that you might be expected to meet on a trail ride, are set up on the trail.  As you approach them, you’re given a scenario description and specific instructions as to what to do.  You’re judged not only on your ability to execute the task, but on your how well you support your horse through the obstacle.  There are novice, intermediate and advanced groups, so you don’t have to compete with the Pros from Dover.  Anyhow, I enjoyed it last year, even though we were really nervous, and we were looking forward to doing it this year.

Jim and Jennifer, whom we met by doing the ride with them last year, agreed that we should get the band back together, so Sunny and I were ready to go.  We were assigned a start time 10:30 at the SCCHA Showgrounds.  The first three obstacles were on the Showgrounds, then the route went out on the trails of Henry Cowell State Park.

Sunny and I got there about 9:40, about perfect timing:  enough time to forget where I put everything, then remember where it was, and still get tacked up in time – but not enough time to wander around and get *really* nervous.  So, about 10:20, we located Jim and Jennifer and their horses, Montana and Expression, and moseyed down to the large arena, the site of  the first obstacle.

I think the best way to describe the ride is to just talk about the obstacles and what happene, so here goes.

Imagine our surprise when we were the third group scheduled to hit  Obstacle 1 at 10:30.  I know that the organizers scheduled groups at 15 minute intervals, and that no more than 4 horse/rider teams could leave the Showgrounds in any 5 minute period – so I think that they scheduled 12 riders per 15 minute period and the idea was that the riders would sort out the order in real time.  It was the right thing to do – we ran into several groups of 6 or 7 people riding together, and this method allowed that – but it caused us some initial confusion.

The Object of Sunny's Affection - The Mule, not the Person!

It also doomed Sunny and I: among the mounts waiting to do the obstacle, there was a mule, and Sunny, who is usually not too interested in other horses, was riveted by her. I’ve heard that many horses are frightened by mules, but Sunny wasn’t frightened, she was love struck.  I was on the ground when she saw the mule, and she went into high alert mode, pulling me toward her (the mule was a Molly). When she got close she lowered her head and sort of aimed it for the mule’s shoulder. The mule was tolerant, but clearly not as into it as Sunny was.  I pulled Sunny away, but as soon as I would get distracted, she’d start sort of sidling back to the mule. Sunny just couldn’t take her eyes off the mule.

Anyhow, the mule completed the obstacle stylishly, then while her group was organizing to leave, Jennifer and Jim did the obstacle, which was opening the gate into the arena while mounted. When it was Sunny and my turn, the mule finally left.  Sunny couldn’t stand it, she *had* to watch her go – there was no way I was going to get her to stand along side the gate and move *away* from her new found sister. After a short stretch of battling from the saddle, I got off and took her through the gate in hand.

I think it was the right thing to do for a couple of reasons:  (1) Sunny was really distracted and it was a stupid place to have a battle and (2) I discovered that I did, in fact, have expectations of doing well, and they instantly disappeared since we had totally failed on an obstacle, so we could just ride.

Obstacle 2  was on a really narrow little singletrack at the back of the Showgrounds.  We waited there for over 20 minutes – we couldn’t figure out what was taking so long.  I killed the time talking to the people waiting behind us, who had come all the way from Marin.  One of them had her horse in a rope halter, she said she only used a bit when she was doing “serious jumping”!

The Line at Obstacle 2

When it was finally our turn, the instructions were “There is a 300 foot drop to the left and stinging nettles to the right.  Keep your horse between them and walk to the judge.”   We did pretty well at staying on the trail, I think, which was only the first part of the task.

When we got to the judge, she instructed us to walk forward to the bottom of a little hill, then do a u-turn and go up this little zig zag chute defined by ribbons. It was about 4 feet wide, and about 15 feet long, with one bend in it. We had to walk to the end of the chute, then back out, staying within the ribbons in both directions.  We did pretty well, but we got off track a little when we were backing up – I could tell because we ripped the ribbon out of its pins, which was what was taking so long:  they had to reflag the course after almost every rider!

Obstacle 3 consisted of pens with with llamas and miniature horses in them. That caused Sunny consternation last year, but this year, after Cowgirl Camp and The Gauntlet, it was no problem.

After Obstacle 3, we left the Showgrounds and got onto the trails in Henry Cowell.   Jim’s horse Montana and Jennifer’s mare, Expression, were both in a hurry, so Sunny and I volunteered to bring up the rear.  This had the disadvantage of making Sunny always have to watch her buds leave just before we did the obstacle.

Actually, by the end of the ride, she had (a) seriously buddied up with Montana and Expression and (b) thought the obstacles were A Good Thing, since Expression and Montana consistently left her behind on the trail, but when they stopped to do an obstacle, she could catch up with them. This is not my imagination, I watched it happen:  by the last half mile of the ride, when we were walking at 3.8 mph, very gradually losing ground on the other horses, Sunny’s heart rate got up to 197.  When we got to the last obstacle and she caught up, it went down to 78 almost immediately

Back to the ride.  We left on Emma’s Trail, which is a narrow singletrack that drops down, then switchbacks up a pretty steep hill, complete with a water crossing and handrails that you have to thread through.

Obstacle 4 was right at the top; all the horses were stopped on the singletrack well before the actual obstacle, so you couldn’t see what was being asked. When it was our turn, we were told to ride down the singletrack and the judge would tell us what to do next.  At the end of the singletrack, where the judge was, there was a picnic table with two large coolers on it.  The judge’s instructions were to ride to the table, side over and open the blue cooler, take a fortune cookie from it, read the fortune aloud, close the cooler and ride off.

We marched boldly up to the table, which was a good first step, but Sunny appeared to have lost all notion of lateral movement (and this stayed true throughout the day! Dang!), so in response to my efforts to get her to side to the table, she kept her nose pointed at the cooler and rotated around it – to the left when I put on right leg and to the right when I put on left leg.

I finally got her to pause for long enough to it to make a dive for the lid  (yet another advantage of having a tiny horse), which I opened. We then rotated several more times until I saw my chance, and repeated the maneuver to pick up a cookie, which had no fortune in it.  However, there was a sign on the inside of the cooler lid which said, “If your cookie doesn’t have a fortune in it, say ‘I’m riding the best horse in the world.’”  So that’s what I did.  Then we did our fly-by one more time and I closed the lid.

The judge was very kind; she said that Sunny had the makings of a great competitive horse, that she *never* refused anything I asked,  and that she kept trying to figure out what I was trying to do.

Obstacle 5 was called Yellow Jackets.  You had to park your horse between two cones. When the obstacle assistant yelled “Yellow Jackets!”, you had to put your horse into a trot as quickly as you could, then bring her to a stop between two more cones about 3o yards down the path.  The scoring was based not only on how quickly you got going and stopped, but how easily you accomplished it, that is, using your seat to go and whoa.  We did all right on this one.  I think.

Obstacle 6 was after we hit the top of the hill and were on our way down. It was a “continuous downhill motion” obstacle.  The trail is very sandy and really got hammered by the winter rains, which exposed a zillion roots running across and above the trail. Also, the park has installed 18″ high boards across it to act as mini-retaining walls.  The instructions were to descend to the judge without stopping, then stop at the judge.  The path was about 30 yards long and *ugly* – some of the drops were about 18″ straight down and Sunny’s just not that big, so she had to pick her path carefully to not lose her balance.  We made it, though, although I don’t know how I rated on balance, and I think Sunny may have actually come to a stop a couple of times.  In any case, we didn’t hurt ourselves, so we moved on to Obstacle 7.

Actually, we moved to the waiting area for Obstacle 7, where we caught up with Sunny’s love-mule again.  The one-sided lovefest continued, with Sunny subtly jockeying to be close to her, and she was heartbroken when the mule left.

On this obstacle, you had to step over a log that had fallen during the winter, so it was sort of surrounded by, and buried in branches and duff, then walk your horse to the narrow end of a picnic table, which you had to dismount onto, then lead your horse around to the other end of the table and remount, again from the table.

I believe I mentioned before that Sunny had forgotten how to move laterally? Well, she still forgot.  Also, I never dismount using the stirrup, I always do the emergency dismount (I figure I’ll never remember to do it when I’m scared unless it’s the only thing I do), so as she was sort of drifting by the table in the best position I thought she was going to get to, I tried to step off, but I forgot that I needed a foot in the stirrup, missed the table, and fell on the ground! Sheesh, how embarrassing!  Anyhow, Sunny didn’t seem upset by it, and I *had* managed to get off her, so I got back on the table, led her around it, and remounted.

Oh yeah, and to add insult to injury, before you mount or dismount, go up or down hill, or drag or pull anything, you have to check your cinch to make sure it’s tight.  I didn’t check it before I got off or before I got on.

Obstacle 8 was about distractions, I think.  It was staged on a doubletrack trail.  You had to stop between two cones and wait for the judge to tell you to proceed.  Before she did that, two pedestrians started down the path, from a point just in front of you.  When the judge called you, you had to pass the pedestrians, who were pushing a baby carriage and carrying a fishing pole and beach ball, and come to a stop between two cones, next to the judge.  An assistant asked each of us to give her our maps, then, while she asked us questions about our horses, she waved the map in the air. When she was done with the questions, she passed it back to each of us, with a great flourish. Last year, Sunny would have had a heart attack. This year, no problem!  Hmm. It might have helped that the judge was Wendy Killingsworth, who does body work on Sunny and whom Sunny adores.

It was sort of funny that this was called “The Pedestrian” obstacle:  the Henry Cowell campground was full and the trails were *busy* – we must have run into 50 pedestrians who weren’t part of the trail trial, they were just “civilians” out for a hike. With their dogs, backpacks, strollers, toddlers, etc – so, except for the part with the map, if you had made it this far, this obstacle was definitely a gimme!

Obstacle 9 was The Big One, although I’m not sure the organizers knew how big it was going to be.  It was the river crossing, with complications.  Here they are:  the Henry Cowell campground was full, so there were lots and lots of kids playing in the river, complete with beach balls and frisbees.  Also, their parents figured out early that the horses and riders were going to be fun to watch, so they camped out on the hillside, with beach towels, umbrellas and cameras.   Finally, the horses were using the same “single lane”  access trail that the people were using, so any time a kid wanted to come up from the water or go down to the water, the horses had to wait, so there was literally a 30 minute wait to attack the river.

So. When it was finally our turn, Sunny did a beautiful job of walking the steep little trail down to the water.  She hesitated a little going in, but with low key urging, she continued. The river was about 18″ deep and clear, with a mostly sand bottom.  Because it was so clear, you could see that there was one place where the sand had been washed away from the underlying black rock. I let Sunny pick her own way, so even though I was surprised when she chose to leave the sand and walk on the rock, I rolled with it – but she slipped. She didn’t go down, but she thrashed around and moved *lots* of water. When she finally steadied out, the spectators gave her a round of applause, which was way more scary than losing her footing!  Anyhow, we got across the river, rode around a path outlined by flags and got back through the river uneventfully.

Jim and Jennifer Waiting for Us after the River Crossing

Obstacle 10 was a vet. We had to ride to a point, stop, dismount, loosen the girth and hand walk our horse to the vet for a respiration check, then remount. No problems there; I may have even remembered the girth check before I dismounted.

Obstacle 11 was also more rider-oriented than horse -oriented.  You had to dismount, tie your horse to a tie bar, and clean the left rear hoof.  You had to tie with a guaranteed quick release knot and you had to be carrying a hoof pick, to be successful on this one.  Fortunately, they tell you what knot they want to see in the Appendix to the Trail Trials rules and I had read the rules,  and I always carry a pick in my pack, so we were good.  It was also nice to see a couple of friendly faces:  Scott and Cristie Thomas were working this obstacle and it’s always great to see them.

Cristie, Hard at Work

Obstacle 12 was the only one that I was concerned about getting dumped on.  You had to walk tyour horse to the judge, who handed you a large rain coat, put the rain coat over the front of your saddle, ride around a little path, lift the coat off your saddle and give it to the judge.  Sunny was perfect. Again, last year she would have had a heart attack.  Whoo hoo!

Obstacle 13, the final one, was pretty funny.  We were riding down a nice singletrack, and there was a clipboard hanging in the middle of the trail, about shoulder high on me. The task was to grab the clipboard, take the pen that was clipped to it, write your name, then put the pen back, let the clipboard go and ride on. Montana refused it, with drama, so I was a little concerned about Sunny.  When it was her turn, Sunny marched up to the clipboard and started banging it with her nose. Finally, she managed to whack it in my direction, so I grabbed it as it flew by and followed the instructions.  No worries, and we bopped along back to the Showgrounds.

The ride was about 8 miles by my gps and it took about 5 hours and 45 minutes – there was a *lot* of waiting.  Some people were really put off by the lines, but I think it’s an important part of the discipline – I know that patience is a truly desirable quality in a horse and I really appreciate the chance to practice it in the company of other people who have an investment in keeping things calm.   All the volunteers were pleasant and efficient, and the judges were kind and calm.  And the trails at Cowell are beautiful (although Wilder rules!) and well worth seeing.  So, we had another great adventure.

wanna ride?

donna

Jade and Cory on the Salinas River Beach

I wanted to share my latest breakthrough with Jade, the horse that I almost gave up on earlier this year. After much deliberation, I came to the conclusion that I needed to try a little harder to help Jade with her fears and bad behavior on trail rides.

My first course of action was to use a trainer to work with her at the beach (crashing waves and all), because it is a place where she has shown extreme anxiety in the past. By the end of the training session, Jade was trotting through the water as the waves moved in and out, something I thought I would never witness. In the process, she needed a lot of support from the trainer, but trusted her as she got right in the water with Jade.

After the session, another of my dreams came true…I rode Jade bareback on the beach.  She had the most beautiful, smooth trot in the sand and it was everything I hoped for.  We have been back for at least 3 more rides on the beach and all of them calm and uneventful.  Wow!  This helped me with the decision to go the next step.

My next plan was to take her up to the Trinity Mountains, where I have my horse property, with no other horses there to support her…only me. The idea I had was that if she had only me to rely on, it might build her trust in me while out on the trail.

When we arrived, (after a 9 hour haul), she was anxious to get into her corral and have a big drink of water. She would not eat the hay I put out, as she was not yet comfortable enough to put her head down to eat. I set up a chair next to her stall and sat there until she finished most of her hay. Over the course of the next 8 days, I sat in that chair a lot to remind her that I was there for her and she was not alone. When I would get up to walk back to the house, she would whinny at me…just like I was her horse pal leaving the barn. I felt my plan was working just like I wanted it to.

Jade Chowing Down in the Pasture

Once Jade began to feel at home, she gladly went out into her corral and grazed for hours in belly deep grass.  My incredible husband, along with some local labor, were able to complete our ~4 acre pasture fence, so half way into our trip, Jade had an entire pasture to herself.  She appeared by all accounts to be a “happy camper”.

Jade Owning the Whole Pasture

We rode every day out of the 8 days we were there and had not one single bad incident. We rode solo, we rode with my husband on his bicycle and we rode with a hiker, with no problems.

We even found ourselves useful when two young adults (a brother and sister) tragically drowned up river from our swimming hole. The bodies were lodged under a large boulder with no way to recover them. The recovery team was hoping that after a few days, they would become more boyant and begin to float downstream. Jade and I (with binoculars and camera) headed up the river canyon trail as far as we could safely go, watching the river along the way. Some deer in the trail gave Jade a start, but she hardly reacted compared to previous similar encounters. The day before that some hikers had run into a rattlesnake on the trail, so we were keeping our eyes out for snakes as well. As much as we tried, we were unsuccessful in having any sightings of, or helping with the recovery of the drowning victims, and by the time we headed back to Santa Cruz, the two bodies still had not been recovered. A sadness sort of fell over our little valley of 200 residents because, of course, everyone knew the folks that died.

On a lighter note though, one of the best rides Jade and I had was when we rode through town out to the levee along side the little airstrip. I was thinking as we rode,  “I wonder how Jade would do if a plane landed while we were right here”. Lo and behold, while we were along the airstrip, a plane flew low and fast over the the strip. About 1 minute later that plane came in from the other direction for a landing.  Jade merely glanced at the incoming plane and never missed a step. She was completely unfazed by it. Wow…I think she grew up overnight!

On our way back towards the barn, we took a detour. I wanted to go down to the river and practice river crossings. However, when we got there, the river was running much more swiftly and deeply than usual for this time of year. Not wanting to put us in harm’s way, we decided to go in only knee deep and have a drink, then come back out. I am confident that if conditions were right, Jade would not have any problem crossing the river.

We headed up the trail from the river, and on our way home, discovered the Farmer’s Market in progress in front of the post office. Jade had several admirers there and they were all vying to hold her for me while I purchased a loaf of homemade walnut bread. After that, the two of us headed off, not into the sunset, but pretty darn close. We went back home with bread in arm, and both feeling quite proud of what we had accomplished together.

I am now at the point that I believe Jade is fast becoming the solid trail horse that I wished for long ago. I am so pleased that I realized, before it was too late, that taking more time and commiting to sometimes uncomfortable training situations can help make a horse your ideal partner.

Henry Coe State Park is the second largest state park in California and the largest one in Nor Cal:  87,000 acres and over 300 miles of trails.  I used to ride it on my mountain bike when I was *really* fit, and I’ve been itching to get back to it on Sunny, when *she’s* really fit.  It’s rough, hilly terrain and can be ungodly hot – but also tremendously beautiful.   There’s no place for wildflowers like Coe, and from the ridge tops you can see forever – a biking friend and I saw the snow-covered Sierras one January.

The problem with riding in Henry Coe is that you have to find a like-minded companion; I suspect friendships could be lost by enticing an innocent friend to bring their horse and explore.  Fortunately, on our NATRC ride, we met people who share our (okay, my) goals, and Michelle, who sheparded Sunny and I through the NATRC ride, agreed to ride with us from the Hunting Hollow entrance to Henry Coe.

Sunny and I trailered over from Santa Cruz, and Michelle from the Valley.  I thought we’d meet half way, but it took me a little over an hour and it took Michelle two hours.  Sorry, Michelle!

Because of that miscalculation, Sunny and I had about an hour in the parking lot, which turned out to be just fine.  It’s a huge lot, lined on one side by large trees, so I was able to park so that the truck and trailer were in the shade, and there was no worry about getting out or turning around.   There is a kiosk there with maps of the area and coming events, including horse-oriented ones.  And right out the gate, there’s a creek/river that Sunny could drink from and we could practice crossing.

Also, Hunting Hollow seems to be a major mountain biking jump off point (we used to go from Gilroy Hot Springs), so there were bikes and people all over, including one couple erecting a huge umbrella-like sun tent on the back of their truck.  Sunny and I, of course, went over to help them with the flapping nylon.  For once, though, it was fair:  the woman was scared stiff of horses, and by the end she was feeding Sunny. And Sunny was scared stiff of big tents waving in the breeze and she was okay with them by the end.  There were also several families with kids who *needed* to pet a horse, so Sunny stepped up to that, too.

Michelle and her gelding, Fadder (I think), arrived, and got tacked up and ready to go in about 2 minutes.  Michelle had ridden an endurance ride at Henry Coe, so I thought she knew some of the trails.  I had told her that I had

Topo Map of our Route

ridden my mountain bike in Coe, so she thought I knew the trails.  It turned out that the endurance ride hadn’t come to the south part of the park, where we were, and I had only gotten that far south a couple of times, and from a different starting point, so we were both clueless about route. We were forced to consult the map.  We actually did a pretty good job, I think. The thumbnail on the left is a link to a topo map of our ride – just click on it to see more detail. You can probably tell, just from the density of the elevation lines how steep *everything* is.  If you want to follow along, here is a link to the trail map we were using:  http://www.coepark.org/maps/gilroy_entrances/HH_handout.pdf

We left the parking lot and crossed the creek, and immediately hit Hunting Hollow Road.  It stayed flat for about three-quarters of a mile and we crossed the creek 4 times, I think. Then we headed up on the Lyman Willson Trail.  Here is a profile map of the entire ride:

Elevation Profile of the Willson Camp Loop

As you can see, when we headed up, we headed UP.  I think we climbed about 1300′ in about 1.5 miles.  The Lyman Willson Trail  is single track, with good footing and quite a bit of shade – but it’s heinously steep.  Sunny’s saddle slipped back, in spite of her breast collar, so I got off, adjusted the saddle and walked her through a few places, but mostly she hauled my big bottom up that hill until we turned along the ridge top.  Whoo Hoo.  Oh yeah, not too far before the top, we ran into the ONLY person we saw – a lone hiker.

Even when we got to the “top”, it wasn’t flat – the trail followed the ridge top, with its ups and downs.  Fortunately, about a quarter mile from where we turned, there was a stock tank with water in it and the horses got a chance to take a break and take a drink.  That settled me down a little, too, and I was able to see where we had gotten to.  We were on the south side of the ridge, and high enough over the “local” hills and see Gilroy, and the coastal range, with a huge fog bank blowing over it.  Also, there were still clumps of wildflowers blooming:  California poppies, of course, but some beautiful, small white flowers and some blue/purple ones.  I remembered how much I enjoyed just touring in this park.

Soon after that, we got to Willson Camp, where there are a couple of buildings and another stock tank.    At Willson Camp, we headed down hill – the only other option would have taken us too far to feel comfortable, not knowing what the descent was going to be like.

We took the largest path down, Wagon Road, which was good because we felt like we had to walk Fadder and Sunny down several parts of it – and the single track alternatives had signs like “Trail Not Maintained” on them, which made us think they might have had footing challenges, as well as just being danged steep.

We followed Wagon Trail all the way to its end, and almost all the way to the park boundary, then intersected with Hunting Hollow Road and headed for the parking lot.  Hunting Hollow Road was the road we started on, with all the creek crossings, and it kept up – I bet we had to make 5 more crossings.  Sunny didn’t get noticeably less concerned about crossing the creek, but she got really fond of getting knee deep in the water and just stopping.  As I mentioned before, the temperature was tolerable, but only because (a) the wind was blowing and (b) I was riding a horse instead of powering myself up those dang hills.  I suspect it was, subjectively, a much hotter day for the horses.

We made it back in time to make it home in daylight – a perfectly executed ride.  It was about 10.5 miles, about 2200′ of climbing, and it took us about 4 hours and 20 minutes, end to end. Oh yeah, as some of you know, I’m geographically challenged, but between the map and the trail markers, I always felt like I knew exactly where I was.  I was concerned about the terrain, but I was confident we could find our way back to the trailer.  Good job.

It was a great ride in beautiful scenery and I enjoyed every minute of it, except the times when I thought Sunny was going to keel over.  You know, I think of Sunny as being in pretty good shape, but she was d-e-d, dead, at the end of the ride and for two days afterward.  BUT, there was an *endurance race* there the previous day and they were doing *50* miles.  The very thought . . .

wanna ride?

donna

View from the Wilder Ridge Overlook

Okay, she’s not really a sergeant, but she *is* a member of the Wilder Ranch State Park Horse Patrol.  (Does anyone besides me remember “Sgt Preston, RCMP”?  I thought it had the same ring to it.  Anyhow.)

“Horse Patrol” is a volunteer organization that has branches at several California state parks; in our general area, there are Horse Patrols at Wilder Ranch, Henry Cowell, and Henry Coe State Parks.  The Regional Parks, like Ft. Ord, have a similar organization: BETA (Bicycle Equestrian Trail Association).

The role of the Horse Patrol is to “. . . participate in safety patrols that augment regular state park ranger patrols . . . “  What this means in real life is that we ride the trails, checking on the state of the park:  answering questions, noting trail damage, logging sightings of mega-fauna such as bobcats and deer, and being available to the rangers via radio, to go to a specific site, if necessary, and check things out.  We have to patrol in groups of at least two, and, since the idea is to be accessible and visible, we just walk.

Georgia and PJ

To get on with the story, PJ, a friend who also has a young horse and is also a docent at Wilder Ranch, mentioned that she had just gotten certified for Horse Patrol, so I looked into it, too.  It sounded like just the thing for Sunny:  getting exposed to lots of different things and people, and doing it calmly, so I sent off a note to Georgia, the Person in Charge at Wilder Ranch, to get started.

To get certified, you have to go on four check-out rides with Georgia.   You have to (a) complete all the rides safely (Georgia tells tales of potential volunteers who didn’t!) and (b) your horse has to meet certain behavior criteria.  Georgia sent me a copy of the standards before we went out.  It included such things as stands quietly when being tacked up and mounted, deals calmly with other horses, is a good ambassador to park visitors, pace can be rated, etc.  I sent a note back to her saying that Sunny could do most of the things most of the time but none of the things all of the time. Georgia said that was probably normal for a horse, so we set up our first check-out ride.

Our first ride pretty much set the pattern for the rides to follow.   The Patrol usually consisted of PJ and her gelding Wiley, Georgia and her mare Scarlett, and Sunny and me.  When on patrol, we park our trailers in the visitor’s lot at the Wilder Ranch State Park complex – a paved parking lot where all the visitors park.  That’s the first hurdle. Sunny was, and is, to this very day, wary of that lot.  First, since it’s paved, it’s slippery. Second, you never know what or who’s going to get out of a car – there are frequently groups of 20 or more people, lots of cyclists, and a zillion kids, many of whom have never seen a horse, except on TV.

The Parking Lot - All Patrols Start Here

After everyone gets ready, you walk down the road to the Wilder Ranch Ranch Complex.   As some of the docents say, “We’re no Williamsburg, but we’re on our way.”  The Ranch Complex consists of the following buildings:

• A home built in the 1870s(?)
• A Victorian home built in 1897/8
• A dairy barn built in the late 1800’s
• A blacksmith shop and machine shop, all run by water power
• A granary
• A chicken coop with about 40 chickens
• A barn with 5 goats and a some sheep in outdoor paddocks
• A adobe building, probably from the mid-1800’s
• A rodeo arena from the 1920’s which currently contains draft horses

And the volunteers are all in period dress, which features long dresses for the women and hats for both men and women (when I am acting as a docent, I wear coveralls – my persona is as a dairy worker).

Anyhow, when there are volunteers available, all the buildings are open – and there are blacksmiths whacking on things at the forge, people in the machine shop using the water-powered, belt-driven tools,  and people in the houses, cooking on the wood stoves, making quilts, carding wool, etc.  And that’s just what the volunteers are doing; the park visitors are watching the activities or eating the just-baked cookies, or participating in making corn meal or learning how to milk a cow,  or just scampering on to the next thing.  In other words, from a horse’s point of view, anything could happen at any time.

If you happen to be a horse walking through this, in addition to the things mentioned above, parents and children will run up to you and want to pet you. Frequently, the parents will want to lift their kids up in their arms so they can touch the horse’s face or mane.  Sheesh!  It’s good, but scary.  One of the requirements to pass the certification is that you can ride through the Ranch Complex.  I did it twice, to prove that Sunny was capable, and since then I’ve hand-walked her.  I think it’s safer and it makes us more approachable. Also, you have to walk your bike through the complex, so it seems only fair that we’d walk our horses, too.

Coming through the Hwy 1 Underpass. Note the tunnel mouth in the background and the family off to the right

So, you mount up in the parking lot and ride down to the Ranch Complex, and right through the middle of it.  Then you go through a tunnel *under* Highway 1, and out past the arena with the draft horses in it.  Whew!  At that point, you’re finally at the trail head, and according to Sunny, things are easy after that.

View from the Wilder Ridge Overlook

There isn’t a set route that we have to patrol, it’s purely “dealer’s choice”.  Our rides with Georgia always featured a stop at the Wilder Ridge Trail Overlook – you can see why.  As we ride, we keep track of any deer, bobcats, coyotes, wild boar, etc that we see.  And the horses usually see these things first.  I’ve learned to pay attention when Sunny’s head goes up – her nose is frequently pointing as something “countable”.  We also count the hikers and bikers we pass.  When the budgets are drawn up for each state park,  weight is given for park usage and how much habitat it protects, so our documentation serves a purpose.

Dealing with Bikes

On the training rides, Sunny had to lead, follow, and be in the middle.  The only issue for Sunny was hikers with backpacks – they looked darned scary.  Oh yeah, and bikers trying to look invisible  by getting off their bikes and squatting down behind them.  It’s sort of funny: the people who are trying hardest to do the right thing are frequently the scariest to the horses because they try to be *really* quiet – so, Sunny at least, thinks they’re laying in wait for her and there’s no way she’s getting close enough for that!  When this happens, we start waving and yelling “Hello there!”, hoping to get some response from them that will allow the horses to figure out what they are.

Also, we had to show that we could negotiate normal trail obstacles.  Like logs across them.

Checking the Singletrack

The other necessary skill is getting off the trail for hikers and bikers and baby strollers to pass.  Sunny hasn’t had a problem with this so far, but I’m not sure if she’s going to be as imperturbable after all the trailside grass is dried up.

After you’ve done your trail ride, you have to return to the trailer via the same route, that is, through the complex – but it’s way easier after the horses have been out for a couple of hours.

We got certified about a month ago. The only problems Sunny had during the process were due to her pull-backs. Her first blivet was when I hooked her to the bike rack while I went to the bathroom. Fortunately, I just wrapped my reins around the rack, I didn’t tie. Anyhow, according to PJ and Georgia, she did great until I flung open the door, whereupon she pulled back dramatically.  Of course, she stopped nearly instantly when she was free, but it was scary.  Also, it’s had a lasting effect:  many of the bathrooms at local parks (Ft Ord, Sunol) are built on the same pattern – and now Sunny gives them a *very* wide berth.

And on her last check out ride, I had her attached to the trailer on a Blocker tie. As I set the buckle on her girth, she went straight up. When she came down, she went back and slipped on the asphalt and fell. I grabbed her line as she went by, she did two bucking revolutions around me and stopped.  I pulled the saddle and pad, checked for burrs, etc., didn’t find any, put everything back on, and rode out. No problems.  I think Georgia passed us because we were able to recover.

Since then, we’ve done three patrols, I think, all of them uneventful. And, yes, I *do* wear the uniform that you see Georgia and PJ wearing – as a child of the sixties, I’m a little uncomfortable with it, but there it is.  There are some male patrollers, but most of the Patrol are like me:  middle aged to late middle-aged women.  My personal opinion is that we keep things quiet by spreading grandmotherly zen around from horseback.  On the other hand, at Henry Cowell, horse patrols were stepped up last year because there were a couple of incidents of theft – so we *are* called out to meet specific needs.

Anyhow, it’s a great privilege to be able to ride in one of the most gorgeous places in the world *and* be able to feel like you’re doing some good.  If you have some time, investigate joining the horse patrol.

wanna ride?