Cole Train

Cole Train

Mission Accomplished

 Mission Accomplished

As you all know, I was riding with a broken wrist for a long time.  Finally. the doctor said it was healed enough that I no longer had any restrictions.  That meant I could lift, carry, lean on and pull any weight I liked.

The very same day, I saddled Cole on my own.  Over the months, the saddle got much heavier.  Thank goodness I ride English.  After a couple weeks, it no longer seemed heavy, so either I am getting stronger or I am just getting used to a heavier saddle.  It doesn't matter.  Now, I can ride even if there isn't anyone out there to help me tack Cole up.

That still left one thing that I needed to do--mount from the ground.  I have been using a 3-step mounting block.  Mounting was very easy from the top step, since Cole is only 14.2.  There are a lot of advantages to having a small horse.

I started mounting from the second step, and did it by grabbing his mane and withers and holding it as I stepped up.  That wasn't as easy as one would think, because when you have wrist surgery, it really messes up your hand.  My hand was swollen like a balloon for weeks, and I was only able to move my fingers a little bit.  Even when the swelling went down, it had lost most of its strength.  I couldn't even squeeze a tube of toothpaste with it without a lot of pain.

I worked for many weeks on strengthening my grip and flexibility. (And I am still working on it.)  My hand gave me more trouble than my wrist.  

Once I was able to take a solid grip in his mane and withers, mounting from the second step became very easy. so I moved down to the bottom step.  On that step, I had to add a little hop and pull.  My hand was doing what it was supposed to, now I had to remind my foot to hop.  The hop is the most important part of mounting from the ground because if you have a good hop, you barely pull at the saddle.  

I mounted from the bottom step for a few weeks before I even considered doing it from the ground.

Finally, the moment of truth had arrived.  I didn't tell anyone what I was going to do.  Ellen was still saddling up Dante when I took Cole into the indoor arena.  I set him up.  He had to bow a couple times, because that is just what he does.  At last I gave him the cue.  I said, "I'm going to mount."  (I have never been very creative with my cues).  He stopped his bowing routine and stood quietly.  

I added one more very essential thing to my mounting procedure--I had to do a loud groan when I was doing it.  Everyone knows that you are stronger if you groan.  

I did a bunch of practice bounces, gave my loud groan and hoisted myself up.  I was in the saddle!  I won't say it was easy, but it wasn't so hard, either.  I knew I was in a good place to improve my mount, and I no longer worry that I might drop something.  

Ellen brought Dante in the arena and saw that I didn't bring the mounting block out.  I hope she noticed that I was grinning from ear to ear, too.

Since then, I have been able to reduce the volume of my groan, because the mounting keeps getting easier the more I do it.  I haven't used the mounting block, since.

It takes a year to fully heal broken bones, but to me, I am already there.  I can do whatever I want without worrying about my wrist anymore!

Unprecedented

Unprecedented

Those of you that have been following Ellen's adventures with anxieties, probably remember that she quits trail riding in the winter.  Once she can't cross the river for a few weeks, she is just done.  It doesn't matter how low the river got, she wouldn't cross until spring.  Her reasoning was that is was so scary to cross, that she didn't want to cross on a good day--dealing with all the stress and anxieties she felt--only to not be able to cross again for a few more weeks and do it all over again.

Something happened this year.  We were shut down right before Christmas with that terribly cold weather.  The river froze right up.  No one was crossing for a few weeks.

We then had a sudden warm spell with a lot of rain.  It broke up the river, and eventually, the river became low enough to cross--and she did!!!

That is not to say she wasn't very nervous, because she was.  I think she is just learning to deal with those feelings.  For instance, she knows she has to get Dante in the river as soon as she can so the feelings don't accelerate.  She needs to keep him moving.  While Cole and Starry are drinking and playing about in the river, Ellen just tells Dante to keep going.

She has also got a better handle on reality.  She suffers from "Reality Distortion."  That is when your mind plays tricks on you and makes things look much worse than they are.  I could say to her, "Look, the water is below his knees."  And she would see the water as very high and uncrossable.  

Now, here she is in the middle of January, crossing the river and going on a trail ride.  It is awesome!

When she can't cross the river, she is happy to ride up and down the hill leading to the river.  That is something else that she didn't do before in the middle of winter.  

She is also riding outside at the barn--another thing that was a huge struggle just a few years ago.  

Dante seems happy to have more variety in his rides.  When we do ride in the arena, he is doing better than ever, but since she isn't doing it as often as she used to, she is getting nothing accomplished as far as teaching him new things.  That is all right.  He is getting exercise.

I'm not getting anything accomplished in the arena, either.  I'm happier just going up and down the hill on the trail, or when we are lucky, crossing the river and having a cold trail ride.  This is my kind of winter, and I'm glad I can share it with Ellen--just like we did back in the days of Cruiser and Ranger.