"I don't eat my own horses"

Captain Picard keeps his saddle onboard the Enterprise because he considers himself a serious rider and wants to be prepared for the opportunity to ride.

Maybe in the future all saddles are like mine and are adjustable to fit various horses.

Yesterday I measured Star Island's back and made my saddle narrower for him. It was hard for me to believe that a horse so big needs the narrowest setting of all.

It made all the difference in the world, sitting on that horse in my own saddle. I was instantly relaxed and confident, feeling "at home" even though we rode so much on pavement.

(If I were riding alone I would never ride a shod horse on pavement, I'd be on the ground leading the horse until we hit a trail. This is Europe - everyone rides on pavement here. I told Juergen it makes me uncomfortable and he says the horses have to get used to it because it's what they'll see at an endurance ride. (Just one aspect that makes Endurance here so attractive to me. <--sarcasm.))

The farrier is coming out on Friday to try to help with the tripping issues, so I had to live through another trailride full of aggravating and sometimes scary trips.

The horse is very intimidated going downhill, he's not sure how to get himself down without falling.

I remembered to ask Juergen, "When was his last time on the racetrack?"

Ready for this?

FOUR WEEKS AGO.

That means when I rode him last week, he was 3 weeks off the track. Good heavens!

Now I see why he didn't mention this to me before - I might have turned down a training ride.

I have to describe this odd, frightening experience I had on him yesterday.

We descended this long steep grassy hill where there was no trail and I was quite nervous but doing my best to help the gigantic horse balance and just praying Lord don't let us tumble down this hill. When we got to the bottom there was this tight switchback with a log holding one side of the slope up, with pieces of re-bar sticking out to hold the log. A creek with a little bridge was just past the switchback. Ugh. Juergen made the tight turn and his go-go-go Arab was halfway across the bridge when we got to the switchback. The Standardbred stopped and would not go. He whirled and tried to find another way but that log was there and he couldn't figure out how to get over it. I didn't want him going over that log. I yelled at him to get back where I pointed him and - akin to turning a battleship around in a creek - I got his body back to the switchback. He would not go. Not one step. He was saying, "I cannot make that turn, it's too tight for me."

Astounding ...I realized the horse was not letting the Arab on the bridge pull him through this, and he wasn't letting my thumping heels push him, he just stood there thinking at us, "Impossible." The thing was, most horses I've ridden would have had some sort of emotional reaction to this situation too - they would have been frustrated or fearful or dangerously buddybound and skittering around everywhere. He just planted himself and said NO. Juergen came back and tried to demonstrate to the big horse how it's done, but still, no.

I had very little room to do so but I managed to jump off of Gigantor and then I did what anyone would do - I tried to lead him through it to show him he could.

I didn't realize how very made up his mind was. So what I was not on him, it made no difference to his grasp of physics and he knew he could not make that turn. At this point I could relax and almost laugh at the big lug. OK, options Juergen? Juergen was very surprised at all this too but used to taking charge, he told me to try another way. Sure enough there was another switchback on the otherside of the slope and I was able to lead the horse down it and over the bridge.

Then I let the horse pull me up the hill by holding onto his breastcollar. The search for a large stump began. Juergen seemed desperate for me to get back on the horse fast but I was quite happy to be on the ground, where I felt safe.

Star Island kept gawking at this herd of antelope (?) behind a fence. They must have been baby antelope the way they were playing, darting around and jumping at each other and bouncing as high as they could. Adorable!

Finally I found an incline and got myself up there on Big Bay again.

I had already planned a few emergency dismounts as some hillsides were steep enough to move my saddle up almost onto his neck.

I finally trotted him. Totally different than an Arab trot, something that will take me time to get used to.

I mentioned the tripping problem again after I lost count and Juergen said "That's why we're at a walk mostly today. It's no problem at a walk." To this I replied, "Then why don't we switch horses?" I have a feeling he doesn't enjoy the sensation either. I had to laugh when the horse kept tripping in a flat area that was just tire-rutted deep mud. He couldn't keep himself from slipping into the tire ruts, and he wasn't sure where the best place was, so we basically kept slipping in from rut to rut. I could laugh because there were no rocks and it was perfectly level. Tire ruts must be part of his next chapter of trail horse education- I have forgotten what it's like to ride a horse to whom everything out there is new.

I won't be used, so at the end of our ride I said "You ride him a few more times and when he's got more trail experience, I'll ride him again. I hope the farrier can help him too."

I got around to asking Juergen if he eats horsemeat and he said yes, but not his own horses. At least he draws the line somewhere: )

At one point his Arab was pacing up a hill when he just wanted to walk, and the Arab was even growling like Baasha used to do when angry at being forced to go slow. Juergen said, "I'll turn you into wurst!" (lol)

In retrospect it wasn't a relaxing or fun ride. It was a fully different experience though, and the "thinkingness" of that horse blew my mind.

We'll see what happens. I have a feeling the Standardbred will find his trail feet in a few months.