horsegirlonajourney

I almost biffed it tonight, braking too late on a downhill so that I had the brakes on during a sharp turn — have I mentioned the electric fence at the bottom of the hill? — and then snapping a stick up into my spokes. The buckles on my toe cages are locked in place by rust and my trail runners don’t slip easily out of the slot, so I couldn’t bail. But I trusted my bike, looked far ahead to my destination, and managed to get balanced again despite the whoopsiedoodle.

I just now remembered that I own cycling shoes. Going right now to put them next to the bike.

I went out earlier tonight, before feeding time, to see if the horses would be more interested in the bicycle if they weren’t absorbed in their hay. Not that I had a fantasy of all of them lining up to trot or canter after me, you understand. Never even crossed my mind.

I did spend a lot of time within arm’s length of Rock, though. Petting him or just leaning on the bike at rest. I was able to mirror him for a while, straddling the bike and walking it forward when he walked, stopping when he stopped, looking where he looked, turning when he turned. That was cool! He figured it out by the third halt, too.

I imagined myself as a centaur carefully performing the steps of the dance that would earn me a place in the herd.

centaur-on-a-bicycle

I subtly took the lead and he did walk beside me for a few strides, and then I let it go. Stop while you’re ahead and all that. So hard not to push for the next step!

I need the exercise so I made sure to zoom around a lot in between. But I could feel that being still, with Rock, meant something to him. We hung out at the trough for a long while; he was doing his game where he sucks up a bunch of water, curls his tongue, and holds it in his mouth for a while, then either swings his head to sprinkle it on you or swallows it with tiny sucking motions, like a foal with his dam. Still straddling the bike, I bent down and swirled my hand in the water, then started touching his tongue with my wet finger. He’d draw it in just fast enough, then stick it out again. I attempted to get him to play tongue keep-away with me actually holding his tongue, but he wasn’t interested, just sucked it inside and cradled his water that way.

Next time I might try to have a carrot stick with me, to do friendly game with him while I’m on the bike. If that goes well I will try some of the other six games, with me standing over my bike; if I have to go on-line to teach him to do the games this way, so be it, but I won’t be zipping around much. By the seventh session I’d like to have some draw, with me walking backwards on the bike and him walking to me.

Mankind has invested more than four million years of evolution in the attempt to avoid physical exertion. Now a group of backward-thinking atavists mounted on foot-powered pairs of Hula-Hoops would have us pumping our legs, gritting our teeth, and searing our lungs as though we were being chased across the Pleistocene savanna by saber-toothed tigers. Think of the hopes, the dreams, the effort, the brilliance, the pure force of will that, over the eons, has gone into the creation of the Cadillac Coupe de Ville. Bicycle riders would have us throw all this on the ash heap of history. ~P.J. O’Rourke

I actually see a lot of potential, if the bike can become part of our play. Wouldn’t it be fun to trot and canter next to each other? Or for him to follow me, then for me to turn around and follow him? At liberty, of course. And later — much later — to go on a mixed trail ride, with bicycles and horse? Like a little herd all our own.

Bicycle races are coming your way
So forget all your duties oh yeah!
Fat bottomed girls they’ll be riding today
So look out for those beauties oh yeah
On your marks get set go
Bicycle race bicycle race bicycle race
Bicycle bicycle bicycle
I want to ride my bicycle

~ Queen/Freddie Mercury

antiquebicycle I was feeling tired and hot and didn’t want to … but you gotta do it seven times for it to make sense to the horse, right? So I wheeled it out and as always with cycling ended up having such a good time, I went for 40 minutes. It’s like being 10 years old on a BMX track except the hillocks and ditches aren’t quite that extreme and I’m about three times the weight, though not the height, of those boys.

Riley didn’t twitch even when I zipped behind her (within kicking distance, practicing my trust — of her, and of my own reading of her floppy ears, lazy tail, cocked hind foot, low head, calm munching….). Star was curious and when I stopped near her she came over and sniffed the bike.

Rocky? He mostly didn’t budge either but he did tense. The one time he moved was when I slowed down and squeezed between his hiney and the fence (about a seven-foot gap) — he took two steps forward. I didn’t look at him or say anything; I had a lot of practice tonight at “horse, what horse?” He stopped doing that after a few more laps but I could tell he remained aware of where I was, and was not entirely comfortable with me going by that close.

I can see why bicycling helps you become a better rider. In addition to physical fitness and balance, it reminds you to look where you’re going (not at what you’re riding!) and plan for contingencies of terrain, weather, environment. It is waking up my enjoyment of speed and giving me confidence at higher speeds. I didn’t even worry about the electric fence this time.

I tried a few different things tonight, as it was my second time out there, and I was more confident in myself, my bike, the territory, and the horses. I wove around closer to them for longer periods, and I rode over the tarps which made a different sound, and I came in at a medium speed and stopped suddenly right next to Rocky several times. I stayed out of arm’s reach but could have porcupined him with a carrot stick. I didn’t look at him though. I was very interested in my handlebars, and I did several torso twists and arm raises. Yep, just a cyclist stopped for stretching break. Then I took off at speed (well, “at speed”) and I could feel him staring after me feeling puzzled.

Bill Dorrance’s book doesn’t mention cycling through the pasture as part of developing feel, but I think it’s working.

During one of those stops, I stayed straddled over the bike and walked four steps forward, then four back, then forward, then back, keeping it rhythmic. Rocky took a step or two to the side at the forward, as it was into his bubble although I was parallel, not facing him. But the rhythm of back and forth relaxed him again and he dropped his head and went back to eating. ball_lucille

On another stop, I dismounted and walked backwards with the bike next to me, to show him that these things can go in reverse, too, and that it’s not permanently grafted to the human. I almost fell ass over teakettle when I bumped into a rubber feed tub (the one Riley keeps dumping their salt lick out of). Rocky had his ears and eyes on me that whole time but not out of anxiety — obviously he knew I was on a direct line to the feed tub and was watching to see me fall over and amuse him. My clumsiness is endearing, indeed.

Maybe I should pitch an article to the Savvy Times about how to amuse your horse, slapstick style.

I finished up by walking the bike around, close to the horses but with my body between it and them. Then I rode it outside the pasture fence, and inside the turn-out next door. The mini-donkeys were more worried about the bike than the horses were, and since they are now kept in the wedge between the back 40 and the back turnout, I figured riding around the turnout would help them too. Meanwhile it would give Rocky a chance to get used to cyclists in the distance. When I finished that, I took the bike into the donkey pen and let them sniff it. One took an exploratory nip and now there’s a small rip in the seat cover, but I don’t think they’ll worry about it anymore. When I wheeled it around in there they followed me like I was the lead pack donkey.

Poppy came back today to do her energy work/communication on a few other horses, so she did a follow-up session with Rocky. I asked her about one of her techniques that looked like some form of acupressure or chiropractic and she said she was working with his reflexes. I’m not finding much about its use in equines through Google or Wikipedia, but I found this description of Natural Reflex Therapy in humans at the Integrative Healing Institute:

Using only the slightest pressure, purposefully applied, the therapist’s fingers and hands read the reaction of your muscles, bones and nerves to soft, kneading motions. Through touch, the therapist receives feedback from your body, and repositions the area affected–arm, leg, hip, shoulder, neck, head—to release spasm, restore normal muscle tone, increase circulation, remove pressure on nerves and allow bones and joints to move freely.

That is pretty much what I saw her do, and the results I see in Rocky. After his session today his facial expression was so relaxed and interested that I had a flash of sorrow for not realizing sooner that he was nearly rigid with pain. She says that it’s cumulative from his experiences in “training” long before I got him. (I don’t want to go into detail about this or the pictures he showed her of what he endured, but we explored it thoroughly last week at the first session; I chose not to blog it because I don’t want to give it any more energy or attention. It’s enough that he’s here, now, with me, and for all my inexperience, my intention and my journey are on the right path. And we’re healing, together, from past trauma.)

He looks more even and has more range of motion tonight, and I am happy and convinced. I ordered the supplements she recommended (rose hips for long-term protection against stones; cell food for short-term treatment of possible enterolith; saw palmetto for prostate health; psyllium for general sand colic prevention; fulvic acid to spray on his feet for 8 days to reduce pain and inflammation) and I’ve slated him for an epsom salt bath on Saturday.