December 3rd Hunter Pace: Goose and Billy Go On An Adventure


November 2016. That’s the last time I took Goose off property for an adventure. And no, I don’t count the move to SC. Back in September Goober went with MK to King Fisher Park for a cross country school, but it’s been far too long since I’ve enjoyed an outing with my best pal.

Katya and I had been searching for a hunter pace to attend before the end of the year, so when she stumbled across one in Mooresboro at WindRidge Farm, we were all over it. Caitlin agreed to trailer and planned to join us on one of her horses. It promised to be a fun day for all. Timing turned out to be perfect as the hunter pace was the day before Goose’s surgery (yes, another one), so I’d get in one last hurrah before he’s off for however long he needs to heal.

Unfortunately, the pony Caitlin was planning to bring was a little off the day before our ride and none of the other horses would be willing or able to do the pace. She still agreed to drive us so luckily plans didn’t have to change. In true horse-people fashion, we were running a little behind schedule and then the boys decided they were NOT going to leave the property. After much coaxing and a few escape tactics, we got Billy loaded only to discover that Goose was convinced he wasn’t going to fit on this trailer. To be fair, Goose is a big boy and when given the option, I always prefer a straight load for him. The farm trailer is a 3-horse slant load, which works great for smaller horses but is a tight fit for a big guy. Last summer I had him self loading onto two-horse straight loads so I really didn’t anticipate an issue here, but he decided he’d get halfway on the trailer and stand there. At first, he looked like he was giving me the middle finger which he is apt to do. Then he got all four feet on but stopped to stare at me. His poor face was like, Mom I’m really not gonna fit up there… After raising the hay bag and stuffing a little bit, we finally were fully locked, loaded, and on our way. He’d been on slant loads when I first bought him and never fit well in those either, poor guy.

A super unattractive photo of the goon, but this was his fresh clip job!
The drive was roughly and hour and a half and it was good driving company so the time passed quickly. We pulled in, tacked up, and were on the trail in no time. At the starting line, we watched a rider come FLYING in, straight downhill through the leaves in the woods and our horses just about lost it listening to the echoing hoofbeats and crunching leaves. My first thought was why the bleeding hell did someone need to come FLYING back through the finish on a stinking hunter pace?! He pulled up, his horse hairy and heaving, and (to the timer) said he did the ride in just around an hour by trotting and cantering most of it. He’s an endurance rider and was using this as prep. His horse was a very cute buckskin paint but he was heaving, hairy, and lathered in sweat. Okay, so I get that you’re training but was it truly necessary to come flying in towards other horses, your horse a sweaty lathered mess? On an abnormally warm day? At a local, fun-day hunter pace? To each their own, but Katya and I decided to take an easier approach to the day to come back with less-sweaty and non-heaving horses.



The starter took down our number and offered a few instructions. It sounded like instructions for a hobbit adventure and we laughed about them all day. We were to follow the trail marked with pink flags that were to always remain on our right. We would cross the creek six times, and the ground was marked with roman numerals at mile five and mile eight. After the 8, we were about 3/10ths of a mile from the finish. Tary not, for most riders were riding this in an hour and a half!

Off we rode on this glorious December day. The weather was warm, the sun was shining, and it felt more like a day in September except with very fall-like foliage. We were glad we’d left our jackets behind and I was thankful I’d clipped Goose again (third time this year, but who’s counting?) on Saturday. It’s been warm down here but not as hot as the 70 degrees this day boasted, so we were planning to ride conservatively. Our horses are fit, but not eight miles of trotting and cantering fit, and with the hot day I was not trying to have a colic or tie up. We started off at the walk trying to let the boys find their brains. The leaves and trees were a little spooky at first, and the way the trail wound through the woods was a bit disconcerting for the horses until they got used to it. Goose is a fabulous trail horse, but every so often his brain cells misfire and he can have a nasty spook. Luckily neither of the boys did anything too dirty all day and we started off on a slightly tense but pleasant note.



I would guesstimate that the first mile or so was through the woods. The trail was littered with crunchy leaves but I could feel some rocks underneath so we kept it to the walk. There were twists and turns and ups and downs. Nothing too technical, but enough to back us off at the very beginning. We only got turned around once through this first part, and riders coming up a different part of the trail kindly told us where we went wrong. It was so nice to feel like we were out in the middle of nowhere, and we walked without too much chatting, letting Billy and Goose swap off leading depending on who was feeling brave.



We then came out to fields and were able to open up a little more. WindRidge hosts all sorts of events throughout the year, and the fields held a full cross country course. Since we weren’t warmed up yet, we decided to skip any jumps for the time being, certain that we’d wind back through them shortly. We didn’t anticipate that the property was so huge we would not in fact circle back to the cross country fields. It was the only real bummer of the day, but I think we rode the right ride for our horses considering their fitness and the weather. If we’d been warmed up we could easily have caught a few jumps but now we know for next time we come out this way.

We rode along the edges of the fields, alternating between walk, trot, and some canter. At one point we came across several riders schooling some of the fences. As we trotted by, one of the girls stared, eyes big, and called out to me, “Your horse is so lovely!” I did a double take to make sure she was talking to me, then patted Goober and thanked her for the compliment, saying he’s a very good boy. She was about 14 years old and on a very cute sporty-looking chestnut. That someone took a moment to look at my horse with wide-eyed awe and tell me how lovely he is… well it made my day. Actually, it made my year. Not sure why I’m always so surprised when people pay Goose compliments, but it catches me off guard and makes my day. I must stop looking at him as a Goober with a big noggin and short legs. He really is a handsome fellow and I’m delighted that people look at him and love him.



After the run-in with Goose’s admirer, we took a walk break until we approached a natural incline along the edge of another field. It wasn’t steep, but it was long and looked like the perfect spot for a nice canter. Well, that canter turned into a gallop and with Billy only a few strides ahead of us, I got up in my half seat and grabbed mane. We were coming up fast on Billy, so I asked for a half halt. Nothing, just faster still. Asked again, nope still no brakes. He was leaning on the bit, not in a bad way but in a “I GO FAST HOLD ON MOM” kind of way and I decided to just let it happen. Goose’s stride gets HUGE, and his gallop feels effortless and oh so comfortable. I could feel the thrum of his four beat gait, and had a big stupid grin on my face the whole time. Pretty sure Billy was taking two strides for every one of Goose’s but man that little guy can book it! Eventually we reached the top of the hill and the boys were happy to oblige and come back to a walk.



We moseyed on for a bit and stopped to take a few photos. Katya is like me and takes her phone out at every opportunity for a quick snap, so I have pictures both from my view and from hers. We were up high on a hill overlooking fields below with tree-lines in the distance. There’s something about sitting on a horse on top of a hill that reminds me why I live this crazy life. For the first time since I’ve moved, I felt really at home on my horse. Charlotte feels like home and I love the barn, but I’ve been missing the New Jersey fall with trail access from my barn and the Sourland mountains to add variety and depth to my views. Here, the landscape was certainly different but the view was there and in that moment, all was right with the world.







We carried on mostly trotting around the fields. We eventually entered the woods again, and soon came to a road crossing. There was a steep decline from the woods to the road, so as we approached the crossing we were looking straight down at the truck. There was a man in a bright orange vest making sure riders could safely cross and Goose was fairly convinced I was urging him towards a demon. I started talking to the man so Goose would realize it was a person, not a goose-eating fiend. I’ve found that if Goose is spooking at something people-related, if the human speaks words, he is immediately like “Oh, yeah no I totally knew that was a person. I was just making sure YOU knew that was a person.” We crossed the road uneventfully and pondered about the 6 creek crossings. We’d been riding for quite some time and still hadn’t come to any, but figured they’d all be at the end and carried on.

This landscape was much different. It was more barren and brushy, with weeds as tall as our helmets. We wound up up up, and ended up with some pretty stellar views. I didn’t take as many pictures as I wanted to since Goose was a bit spooky throughout the ride, but did snap a few. By this point, a few groups of riders passed us and I will admit we were crawling. The miles were beginning to drag, and we still hadn’t come across the V marking five miles. With the varied terrain, we weren’t super comfortable trotting, so we kept chugging along at the walk until we got back into the woods and found a few good spots to trot. Here, we began our series of creek crossings. A bit slap happy, this was the point where I started joking around about our instructions, making them sound more ominous: “Thrice you will pass through the creek, then thrice once more. Tary not and trudge ahead, only after the ground shows an eight will you find what you seek! The pink flags must be always on your right, they will guide you on your journey…”





After our third stream crossing, the trail wound up a bit, and we came to a wall of rock on our left. It wasn’t a mountain, it was just a random slab of grey rock on the side of the trail, taller than us and I would guess 15-20 yards long. The rock was to our left, and to our right was a ledge dropping down to a creek about 10 feet below. The trail was wide enough we could have tightly ridden side by side, but as it were Billy was in the lead. He spotted the rocks about 10 feet out, and slammed on the brakes snorting in alarm at the strange feature. Katya booted him forward and he went tentatively onward until he passed the offensive rock. In the meantime, Goose was casually shuffling along, the rock now fully on our left, when he suddenly noticed the change in landscape. The big goon snorted, threw his head up and almost bashed my face, flinging his body to the right where I could feel his right hind slip off the ledge. I kept my composure and gently coaxed him forward by screaming, “YOU SONOFAB… GET THE F FORWARD YOU DIRTY BAS… I SWEAR GOOSE IF YOU KILL US TODAY I WILL MURDER YOU… IT’S A BLOODY ROCK FOR CHRISSAKES GIT GIT GIT!” and we passed the bastard rock wall without further delay. I was glad I kept my cool through that, you know, so none of the other riders behind us would hear my usual yelling at the turd…



We continued alternating between barren landscape and woods and were a bit concerned as we still had not come across the five mile marker. Katya was promising to throw herself on the ground as soon as we were back at the trailer and my knees were starting to scream. After our fifth creek crossing, we were really feeling the miles and picked up the trot whenever possible. There were quite a few steep uphills, and we began letting the horses trot or canter up if they wanted to. I’m all for asking him to walk up hills to build his booty, but at this point we were happy to let the horses do what they were comfortable with (within reason, I NEVER let him trot or run the steep downhill slops). There was one steep hill Katya began trotting up, and I yelled at her to just let them go and both boys dug in and galloped up. Very cool feeling basically galloping in slow motion. Goose had a HUGE stride and I could feel his four beat, but it was incredibly slow until he slowed to a canter then trot as we reached the top. The boys were winded after that one, and we soon let another duo pass us.



Later, we were up higher on trail with riders below us, probably about a mile behind us with the way the trails wound around. A girl on an appy was looking up and shouting at me “ALYSSA!!! Hi do you remember me?! From the Bernie clinic?! NO? Well you were there!” and as we rode away I could not for the life of me figure out who this girl was. I didn’t recognize her or the horse, and was so confused. I’ve never been to a Bernie clinic, and certainly wouldn’t know her from down here since I just moved and don’t know anybody really. So weird and it was really bothering me I couldn’t figure out who she was. 




At another point, we were trotting happily along a nice long stretch through the woods and all of a sudden, Billy did one of those cartoon, leg splayed moments as he ducked to the right. Goose sort of followed suit until he realized that the hunter’s camo tent and the big water containers on the side of the trail weren’t so scary after all. We had a few random moments like this and we were cracking up about them every time. Slap happy moments kept us going!



Eventually, we found our last stream crossing and came out to more fields. We had crossed back over the road long ago and were relieved to be back on familiar territory. Soon we were back in the woods that we were pretty sure we had started in, passed through a big sand arena we trotted through before heading back out to the woods, and finally saw the eight mile marker! It was on the ground to the side of the trail, so my best guess is that the five had been ridden over or leaves had covered it. Not sure how else we would have missed it but we were thrilled to know we only had 3/10ths of a mile back to the finish line.





As we approached the start/end table, the man took our number and asked us if we had any problems on trail or if we had any issues with the markers and layout of the ride. I mentioned that we got turned around once at the very beginning, but that overall the trail had been very well marked and we had a great time. The man looked kind of puzzled and said that we had been out for two hours and 20 minutes but he’s glad we made it back safely. I did mention that with all the woods we had mostly walked so it did take us a long time. As we walked back to the trailer, we saw sweaty horses all over, some still heaving from their efforts, and I was happy that the boys still felt like they had some gas left in the tank and were only mildly sweaty. They were in perfect condition and I felt good about the way we chose to ride, even if we did turtle! They didn’t tie up, no colic, and were happy to graze and munch hay while we untacked and organized for the ride home. As promised, Katya tied Billy to the trailer and immediately flung herself on the ground, moaning about starvation and exhaustion. So dramatic, and incredibly entertaining!

The drama llama in action

Unfortunately, while we were out on trail a man had come off his horse and broken his leg, his horse loose and galloping around. Luckily Caitlin was able to catch the loose horse and shot us a quick text to be careful if we were coming in soon since there was an ambulance with lights blaring right next to our trailer. I saw the text on trail but we were still pretty far out from the finish at that point. Hopefully the man is okay and the horse too, it’s never good when what’s supposed to be a fun, easy going day turns into a nightmare.





Katya and I walked the number back up to the registration table and I saw the girl on the appy who had been calling to me through the woods. Nope, I definitely didn’t know her but I had to figure this out. I approached where she was hosing off her horse and asked if she was the one calling to me earlier. She was, and asked if I was Elizabeth. Aha! That was the confusion. I had thought she was yelling Alyssa to me, alas she was not. Apparently, this Elizabeth has a big grey horse too and this girl thought I was the one who befriended them at a Bernie clinic earlier this year. With the confusion cleared up, we made our way back to the trailer, loaded the boys (mostly) uneventfully, and made our way back home.




We did stop for some road snacks which all three of us were grateful for, and our ice cream cones really hit the spot. We made good time back to the farm and made quick work of unloading the horses and tack. Eventually I loaded Zu up in the car and we headed back to Charlotte. She had hung out at the barn with Daniel and Dixie all day and was thoroughly exhausted. We both passed out early knowing that we had an early day ahead on Monday and it was going to be a long few days or weeks getting Goose through his second surgery of 2017…

Well earned dinner 

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