February 12, 2005

Tardiness and icy roads

One of my blog colleagues, Kat, has coined a number of blog diseases, including blog neglect, blog addiction and blog blockage. To her medical blog-dictionary I would like to add the psychological malady termed blog tardiness, akin to blog neglect. Days go by and nothing gets written. This is not fair to Castor, who is supposed to be the focal point of this web page. Not only has he been neglected as far as elapsed days and weeks are concerned, I have also neglected to even mention him specifically for some time.

Today we took a stroll in the woods. Getting him ready for a hike is an onerous task. Not only is he dirty, muddy and wet when you go out to get him in the field, you also have to put studs in his shoes so he doesn’t slip on the icy roads and paths in what is often somewhat inclement February weather in Stockholm.



Studs

For those of you who don’t ride, studs in your horse’s hooves do more or less the same thing as your winter tires do for your car. Riding on an icy path without this protection is no joke. Imagine having about 1500 pounds of muscle power and skittishness underneath you, slipping and dancing nervously around on the ground. So, before you go out on a cold and sunny winter’s day, you stud (no pun intended) your horse. This entails getting out your wrench and fresh ice studs to screw into the horse’s shoes.




Chiropractor’s dream

Studding Castor is something I don’t really long to do. In all four hooves there are four screw holes with flat studs in them, flat-shaped screw heads (like bolt heads) that are there so the holes don’t get filled with a lot of dirt and grime. So first of all you have to unscrew these, clean out any sand or dirt that has got stuck underneath and then screw in the proper winter studs. Now imagine bending over, holding a hoof in the air with what feels like the whole weight of your horse pressing down on it, using your wrench to get the flat studs out before Castor gets tired of you holding his leg and decides he wants to put his foot down instead. Unscrewing the flat studs is the first job. Now that you’ve got them out and cleaned out the holes, you’ve got to put the other ones in. This takes some digital dexterity and it’s not that easy when your fingers are already getting numb from the cold air in the stable. You have to screw them in, or at least get them started, and then as quickly as possible - remember you’re still holding Castor’s leg in the air – fasten them tightly with the help of your wrench.

Then you’re all set to go.

Grass killer





If your back has taken the punishment in stride, then a brisk walk in the woods on a cold and sunny winter day is a real high. Forget about smoking grass and getting both stupid and grossly hungry. There’s no high that beats the sense of riding out on a fine day. Your back is suddenly fine again, about twenty years younger, and you’re on top of the world. The sun is shining and Castor snorts (still no pun) now and then as if to agree with you.

Since you’ve got a large animal underneath you, an animal with a will of his own, you don’t just sit back and ride. You have to communicate - around the trees, over the ditches, along the ice on the road, down the steep hill and on the path back to the stable, a route that all horses know - and tell you they know. The road back home is the best one.

Then it’s the same procedure again, with the studs, I mean. Sharp studs out and flat studs in. All part of the course.

And maybe, just maybe, part of the pleasure of it all.

3 comments:

Gabriel said...

It all sounds nice and fine and dandy and all - no, really, it sounds refreshing and lively! - but I still can't help wondering: what would happen if you (well, maybe not you you, but anyone) rode while stoned? Would it be possible? Or do you need all your senses functioning at maximum level just not to die up there? I'm guessing it would probably not be the wisest cocktail of experiences, but still, your post begs this question to be asked...


Remember kids: just say no!

Kat said...

My finest experience was in the mud and muck of a post March blizzard that quickly melted.

We were riding in a rolling field, the horse behind me was biting my horse on the ass. My horse decided that it didn't like that and kicked back at the horse behind, losing his balance, knocking into my brother's horse that quickly began to slip down the muddy slope we were on. My brother's horse started going down next to a tree, brother grabbed the tree trunk and hung on, dangling from the tree as the horse finally regained it's balance and went on, leaving him there.

We of course laughed insanely.

geezer squeezer! said...

riding stoned would be hideous surely???
i got bitten by a horse when i was little.hence,i cant stand them.my girlfriend wanted me to go on a horse riding holiday.they had to literally sew my sides up i was larfing so hard.
and whats with them just shitting litres of piss and kilos of poo all over the place and everybody just pretending it isnt happening.
but if youre happy,im happy.you are talking about horses arent you?