I’m starting out day 2 here enjoying a lovely morning chilling with the Champion Hill crew.  The Carriage classes are going right now in the main ring and I can see them from where I sit in the shade.  Trainer Olivia Doutt and I discovered an unknown connection yesterday.  She grew up showing Saddlebreds in this area.  You remember those Saddlebreds I was trying to turn into western horses?  Well, there was one I remember in particular named Meghan.  She had “ballet feet” up front (in other words, was about as turned out as they come) but she was a sweet horse and I worked with her all summer long one year as often as I could get to the barn.  I didn’t actually expect to have a chance to show her, but enjoyed the opportunity to ride.  Well, Warren County Fair comes along and they decide to haul Meghan up there so I could show her.  I was thrilled.  But as I begin getting ready for my class, my cousin all the sudden decides she wants to show western too and since Meghan is her horse she’s going to ride her.  Bound and determined to get in the ring anyway I get put on Rainbow who hadn’t seen a western saddle in years.  Of course Meghan beat Rainbow and I, which, while still disappointing, had some degree of vindication for me.  Well, turns out Olivia was Meghan’s next owner and proceeded to clean up in western classes in the area.   She had her the rest of her life to the ripe old age of 22.  It’s good to know she went to a good home!

But, back to business at hand.  There were some particularly nice horses to show last night.  My favorites may have been Essex Playtime and City Kitty.  But the highlight of the evening had to be the last class of the night, Morgan Open Park Harness.  I had noticed in the program a horse owned and to be showen by Gary Horne.  When I first saw the name, before my mind even had a chance to complete the thought it was dismissed.  Surely this wasn’t Horne of Horne Farms.  Come to find out surely it was!  Apparently it was a last minute decision for him to show.  The horse had been in the ring here once back in 2006, but they had only just put shoes on him a few days ago for this year’s appearance.

As Gary came into the warm-up ring before his class the horse was a lit firecracker!  A grandson of San-Kay’s All A-Glow, he was big and bold you were never quite sure what he was going to do next, but he was beautiful.  Lynn Peeples and Nancy Flower were out there with him, helping to get him set up to go.  It was a beautiful picture of Morgan camaraderie and community to see them giving him a hand.  But as we were standing there looking, all of the sudden it went dark behind us and the music stopped!  The power had gone out in the show ring in the middle of a victory pass.  After a few minutes of darkness, the power was still on in the warm-up ring and there were only 2 classes left so they moved the officials over there to continue.  As they led the harness horses for the last class out of the ring so the next class could go, Lynn was at the head of our fire-breathing dragon and summed up the sentiment of the whole crowd as he yelled back “Hurry up, please!”

After a quick one-horse class, Gary and Brian Stewart (with Bri-B XTC) came back in with their prancing steeds.  Brian and his horse were beautiful, but it was hard to take my eyes off Gary and HFF Tomcat Victory.  He was in and out of form, and often on the verge of being out of control, but when he set up and got going he was beautiful.  Brian and XTC won, of course, but I felt privileged to have seen one of the Horne Morgans driven by his breeder.

Well, yesterday I made the first leg of my trip to Penn-Ohio. I won’t be going as an exhibitor, just a spectator. But this is a special show for me.

Growing up the only opportunities I had to show would be when my cousins would let me play with one of their ASBs (turning their saddle seat horses into western mounts, I’m sure they appreciated it) and then tag along to the local, Warren County, PA fair.

The horse I had of my own from the time I was about 13-16 was a 3/4 Morgan and forever changed the trajectory of my horse ownership experience. He was an “it” horse for me, although I’m not sure I appreciated that at the time (some cold winter day you might hear more about him). Unfortunately one night when I was a Junior (I think) in High School, he played the escape artist and ran down the high to the high way and get hit by a car and killed. Thus ended my horse ownership experience until after college, but I was hooked on Morgans.

The summer after my senior year my mom, who is NOT a horse person and is in fact allergic, took me to the Penn-Ohio show as one of my “last hurrah’s” before college. It was another defining moment for me. I was so thrilled to be there. I’m not sure how many classes I actually watched. I was more interested in walking through the stalls and seeing them up close and personal. From that time on there would be no other breed for me, Morgans were it.

Well, this weekend I get to go back, and I can’t wait.

Even though my first love is the Morgan, I also show saddlebreds, and sometimes help my trainer with the academy kids.  I have to tell this story because not only is it funny, but i think we can learn something from it.   I’m not sure how its done in the Morgan world, but in the saddlebred world, all the little leadliners get first place blue ribbon and a big bucket of toys.  Well I was at a schooling show that the barn was hosting, and I was helping out the kids.  Well the leadline class just got out and this little girl was crying really hard.  I asked her, “Honey, whats wrong, you got a blue ribbon, thats really good…” Well what she said next almost knocked me off my feet.  She said, and I quote “But I didn’t want the blue ribbon, I wanted the PINK ribbon!!!!”  She said this while huge crocodile tears are running down her face.  I couldn’t help but laugh and told her I would get her a pink ribbon.  I took the blue ribbon and went to my trainer and said that I needed to trade the blue one for the pink one.  She gave me a wierd look and when i told her that the little girl wanted a pink one, she just laughed.  I went back to the little girl with the biggest pink ribbon we had, and I have never seen a happier girl in my life.  If we learn anything from that little girl, it’s that there is more to showing and life than the color of the ribbon you get.

Chapter 10
More Morgans

I meet the man who lives next door. He comes driving up to our shared “falling down fence.” Gerry Black is his name. Jerry seems to be an old man to me. When I first met him he is only ten years older than I am now. I am currently 65 years old. Gerry drives up to the fence in his old Ford flat bed truck. The truck is highway department yellow. The truck bounces across the non road of Gerry’s rolling oak savanna. How all the “stuff” on the flat bed stays put is beyond the scope of any ones understanding. At 75, Gerry is still shoeing horses and does a fine job. He eventually becomes my shoer. I learn very quickly to take away his truck keys so that he does not leave a horse unfinished. I bring him gallons of coffee and Costco muffins while he shoes. Sometimes of shoeing takes all day to get three to four horses done. He is an excellent shoer and a fabulous story teller. I love the stories.

We meet over the cobweb fences that keep his herd of twelve to twenty cross bred Belgium work horses off my irrigated lands. Jerry knows how to drive horses. As I get to know him better he tells me stories of digging irrigation canals with a slip (ditch digger), logging in the woods of the Cascades, gathering wild horses from Pilot Rock to Mt Shasta with his dear friend Buck. I meet Buck who becomes a friend of mine as well.

These old men hang out on cold winter days at the local (no longer standing) café called the “Milky Way.” They sit there for hours drinking stale coffee and telling vibrant stories. I often find my way to the café just to sit and listen to men who are vanishing into the mists of time and to remember their stories. I am so aware that I am living on the cusp of time that will vanish before my eyes. I must live the adventures of my life or I will never have the vanished opportunities again…

One morning Jerry says,

“Bout time we put together that pair of Morgan horses you have always dreamed of having.”

“Sure” I reply. “I can hardly wait.”

Currently I have two Morgan horses on the place. Suzie, my mare, and Woody, my gelding… I use them for everything necessary on the ranch and often for the unnecessary things as well. I just ride for the love and fun of riding.

I am so excited about driving my pair of horses. Gerry and I (really it is just Gerry as my job is to just sit and hang onto the seat of the old auto tired wooden wagon.)

Gerry uses one of his very broke Belgium Crosses, Jug, as a breaking horse with my smaller mare Suzie. He moves Suzie to the right side of the pair and put the horses through their paces.

“Always break horses in the winter. They don’t get overheated and mad.”

Gerry continues with his wisdom of experience. “You don’t get mad either. Too cold and wet to get mad.” He drops another pearl of wisdom. “Never use a hammer on your wife or husband, your truck or your horse. Use the tool as it is intended and learn how to use the tool.”

Then comes another pearl on this necklace of knowledge that I continue to learn from Gerry. “There are no shortcuts. Don’t hide behind the problems. Drive the horse beyond the problem. If they won’t stand. Teach them to stand. You got to teach them to stand with a silk string holding them and to pull the weight of the world behind them. A horse is very smart. Do the job right the first time.”

I sit with a master horseman upon an old wooden farm wagon that has seen better days. The tongue of the wagon is a tree with the bark still on it. Gerry drives the horses as a perfect pair. What I would give, if I had the funds, to send him to the East Coast driving competitions. What an art this man holds in his hands. He can drive a pair. Gerry begins to talk about putting together a four-in-hand of Morgans.

I start looking and will continue to look for the next twenty years until I figure out that driving is pair is “good enough” for me. At one time I own and drive three pairs of Morgans and can put together a four-in-hand with that group. I can drive the four by myself but realize just how dangerous and fool hardy driving four by your self really is. I keep to my pairs. Now let us return to Gerry.

One of the best parts of learning to drive a pair is gathering up Gerry’s horse that we use a partner to each one of my horses.

“You cannot train a horse by the clock”. Gerry lives by his own time and sees the world only through his own eyes. He NEVER has his horses ready when I show up with my Morgan. I ride my mare over to his old wooden pole barn. I ride out on his 250 acres in search of the big horse herd and run them into the barn. I have a surreal experience on these fall mornings searching out the horses that are the colors of fall leaves and watching them gallop to the barn with their hooves thundering and their manes flowing behind them.

Yes, we could lock up old Jug so we wouldn’t have to catch him each morning, but then I would miss my leaves, the bucks, and my gallop. For the first time in many years, I have the most precious commodity of all things. I have TIME. I enjoy my ride rather than worry about “saving time” by having Jug locked up

I am forever grateful to my “formal driving lessons” from some of the best drivers in the world. All those hours of driving in California carry me to a height of appreciation of formal driving that I would never have obtained if I did not have the art of “perfection.” Behind me. Now I am content to sit beside a master driver disguises as a “Cinderella” , covered in farm dirt and wood smoke and dirty clothes, knowing full well, in my heart of hearts, that Gerry Black is able to perform as the driver of a golden coach going to the ball. Such is the fabric of my dreams that slowly weave into the fabric of my reality.

I learn to drive pairs very well and with great joy and purpose.

Chapter 6

Other People’s Cattle

I lease out my fields to another man’s cattle. I have fields and grass and he needs the grass. The time is the end of March. March 24th to be exact. The man turns his cattle onto my upper field pasture.  March arrives like a lion and creeps out on little lamb’s feet.

Calves are again being born on the ranch. The mud tries to dry up, and then Mother Natures dumps buckets of water on the ground. The mud becomes the consistency of wet cement. This black gumbo will grow anything but is treacherous soil. This soil can kill as well as grow.

I spend one day and most of the night nursing a sick calf that “bogged’ down in the mud by the feeding pens. Usually the mothers are smart enough not to bring their babies up to the feed lot. This baby didn’t listen very well to the mama cow.  The past few days had been warm and wonderful so “Why listen to your mama.” thinks the baby calf.

Read the rest of this entry

The following is a chapter by Carole Mercer sent to me for posting. Enjoy…
Chapter 5
Morgan Horses in the First Year

I buy more horses. I arrive with my Morgan Mare, Suzi, from California. I buy Quarter horse buckskins became I believe I will make a try at being a “master cutting horse trainer.” I discover that the entry fee for a cutting horse show can be as much as $500.00 dollars for just several minutes. Plus I have not a clue on how to cut cows. I buy another Quarter horse gelding that I think will be my rope horse. I have one Western saddle and no idea how to rope. I own lots of pasture and I keep horses cheaply until winter when I find out that the horses eat more hay than my cows. I keep the Morgan because she is an easy keeper. Suzi can eat sticks and gain weight. I sell all of the nice Quarter Horse dreams. They all go to good homes. I am down to one horse.
Read the rest of this entry

It’s been a crazy winter, and it’s only the end of December. I haven’t ridden too much since November, but decided last night to hop on Bobby Sox and just have fun. Usually, I’m working on a nice collected lope, or pivots – or whatever (there’s always something), but yesterday, I just wanted to RIDE. So, I saddled Bobby up with a little hunt saddle along with a snaffle bit and had at it. It was so much fun – we did cavaletti, trotted REALLY fast - I never knew a horse could trot that fast without breaking into a canter! We cantered loosely around the ring – it was just fun and worry free. We have all the rest of winter and spring to work on the business end of things – seriously, I am sore today – BUT it was the best winter blues therapy I’ve had. Hope you all are enjoying your PLAY time too

Here is another story Carole sent to me for posting…enjoy:

Chapter 4

First Calves of the First Year

My first calf is born on February, Friday the 13. We have so much snow that school is cancelled. Sarah and I do a mama cow walk and find this cold baby on the wrong side of the fence from his mama. I shove the calf under the fence to the mama side of the pasture. The mama does not let the calf nurse. She kicks him every time he tries to nurse. Oh great. First calf and problems already. The baby needs milk….he needs colostrums. I carry the baby to the barn. Mama cow is hot on my tracks. What am I doing with the baby…her baby….that she does not want? I know nothing, but am totally determined that this cow and her baby are going to pair up.

I rope the mama and tie her up in the horse barn. I have no idea how I achieve this rodeo act, but I do. I then get a halter on her head while the mama is trying her best to kill me. I blindfold her and tie up a back leg. I get a bucket and I, who have never milked anything…milk her out. She wants to kick the heck out of me, but I am so quick. I am quick and I milk like I am in a contest. She kicks. I milk. She misses. I milk. I feed the baby with a glove nipple the colostrums milk. I put the calf on the milked out mama cow. With the milking her bag is not so tight and she doesn’t hurt. Besides I still have her tied up and blindfolded. I am covered with cow manure from head to toe. The mama cow has been feeling a little excited. Ranching is powerful stuff. I will not trade my ranch for a warm, safe inside job for anything.
Read the rest of this entry

(This little story is for those of you who hate trailering horses…)

As many of you know I live in Northeastern Ohio and if you live in this state you find a lot of truth in the common Ohio saying, “If you don’t like the weather, just wait a day and it will change”. This past weekend we had one of those “days”. It was seasonably cold on Saturday morning, but the skies were clear and the roads dry. However, by 2pm the weather took a quick turn with the temperature dropping and snow beginning to fly (LOVE that “Lake Effect”).

Normally this weather does not pose a problem for me. I certainly don’t like it but my little Honda Element can truck through it with no problem. However, this particular snow brought with it a HUGE problem for me. My daughter and I had decided to take both our horses to a morning Sunday show (I was riding in a Show Rider class and she in the Academy classes) and I needed to trailer them myself. For those of you who know me personally, trailering horses just down the road on a clear, beautiful day is a big undertaking for my brain. I hate trailering horses and it makes me incredibly nervous. I am an okay driver (except maybe for Toll Booths…apparently that is a good joking point for those following me – I just am afraid I will run up over the curb or hit one of those walls). My problem is that I always think about everything that could go wrong…What if someone cuts me off while driving down the interstate? What if I have a flat or my truck breaks down? What if I get lost? And, most importantly, What if I have to stop for gas and I get stuck in the gas station and can’t maneuver myself out? (I know that last one is really dumb, but my poor brain just can’t get past it). Yesterday, however, was the mother of all trailering stresses for me…Snow was falling and sticking to the roads – Yikes!
Read the rest of this entry

The first year
Struggling

Chapter 3

I now have too much hay in the barn. I need something to feed. I have one Morgan horse that I come with me on an earlier trip to Eagle Point, Oregon from Woodside, California. The mare is Suzi, an overly fat Morgan and she is not going to eat all that hay in the barn. However, Suzi would like to try to eat all the hay in the barn. She is a Morgan horse after all…

So I proceed with a brilliant plan that borders on stupidity. I purchase three Quarter horses.

I think I will become a “Cutting Horse Champion.” I totally am embracing the “cowgirl” fantasy .The Quarter horse mare has a colt foal at her side and is in foal for the spring of next year. Talk about a “ready made” trio of horses.  I am also “training” a big Quarter horse gelding named” Tony.” He will make a great rope horse when I buy my herd of cattle. Suzi is my driving horse. I must think I have lots of time on my hands.
Read the rest of this entry