Born in the wrong century

When Lucy and I are out on the trail, I like to imagine it's a few hundred years ago,

when the world was a much simpler place.

Saturday encore ~ Collector's items

Today's encore is from Oct. 13, 2015, and features Lucy,
the best riding donkey in the universe.

If all goes as planned today, I will be meeting Lucy's previous mom
in person for the very first time. Of course there will be pictures taken,
so I might even have something fresh to blog about next week.

***

As if the weather and the company weren't perfect enough,

Sunday's trail ride was topped off by the proverbial icing on the cake:

finding an entire cow skeleton.

Spotting bleached bones from a mile away is my superpower.

Me: Look, Lucy! Another skull for our collection.

Lucy: If I keep my eyes closed, maybe it will disappear.

I'm not sure if Lucy was giving the stinkeye to me or the skull, but I'm guessing the skull.

It was still a bit ripe.

Lucy: You can hang the jaws on my other side for balance, but that's it.

We'll have to come back for the rest the next time...
and the time after that...and the time after that.

I'm guessing this poor girl has been decomposing for about a year. We found the skull, jaw, neck

and a shoulder blade about 30 feet away from the main skeleton, and they were bleached clean.

The rest, not so much. 

I still can't believe Saint Lucy puts up with me.

For now, the skull sits on the hearth. 

I covered the last one with howlite, a sort of poor girl's turquoise.

I'm going to try to electrify this one and turn it into a wall sconce,

as long as Smooch doesn't get to it first.

Saturday encore ~ Down the trail with Lucy and the head-cam

The videos below appeared originally last August in a two-part series.
I've combined them here, just in case you want to kill 10 minutes of your Saturday morning.

***

I wore the head-cam on one of our rides this weekend and didn't shut up the entire time it was on. Drove Lucy nuts.
Anyway, we thought you might like to join us.

The pace picks up in part 2.

Down the trail with Lucy and the head-cam, the conclusion

Down the trail with Lucy and the head-cam, part 1

I wore the head-cam on one of our rides this weekend and didn't shut up the entire time it was on. Drove Lucy nuts.
Anyway, we thought you might like to join us.

The pace picks up in part 2, which I'll post tomorrow.

Down the trail with Lucy ~ June 2013

It's been six months since I've done a riding-with-Lucy post, which seems very odd given that riding Lucy
is such a part of the routine around here. It's just that I never take my camera along for the ride,
and what's the point of a post if there are no pictures?
Anyway, I happened to be talking to Estella (Lucy's former mom) the other day, and I got to thinking

about how stinkin' lucky I am to have Lucy in my life, and how grateful I am to Estella 

for letting Lucy go, and how much Estella loves riding-with-Lucy posts, so here we go.

Here we are at the front gate, deciding which way to go. 

We pick left.

It's 9 a.m. and almost 90 degrees. We take our first of many shade breaks.

I am listening to the audiobook "The Son" by Phillip Meyer. 

Westerns sound much more authentic when listened to in the saddle. 

We ride around for a few hours looking for bones but find none. Maybe next time.

Another uneventful ride comes to an end – no spooks, no balks, no arguments, no drama, 

just a pleasant morning spent on the trail. Uneventful is never boring, it's just fun.

 

We've opened this gate so many times that Lucy doesn't need to be cued. She knows the drill.

I push it aside with my left arm...

We walk through, turn around...

...then sidepass the other direction to close it.

In a few minutes, Lucy will be untacked, served lunch and given a gold star for another excellent performance.

I've said it so many times before, but it bears repeating:

Weekends with Lucy

I don't blog much about my rides with Lucy because a) my camera doesn't like trail dust and 

b) if you've seen one picture of the open range viewed from the saddle through Lucy's ears, you've seen them all. 

But Lucy's former mom, Estella, mentioned last week that she'd love to see more riding posts, so here we go!

No matter how many chores or errands I have to do on the weekend, riding Lucy comes first. 

Our Saturday and Sunday rides are sacred, and we don't skip them ever, unless the weather is horrendous, 

which it hasn't been since ... maybe last February? When we rode yesterday, it was 64 degrees.

Me: Look, Lucy, your nose is shaped just like that horseshoe. I never noticed that before.

Lucy: Uh oh. It's going to be one of those kind of rides, isn't it?

Sometime during the summer, I started taking my iPod along on our rides. 

I know, I know, this probably breaks every trail safety rule ever written, but so be it. 

When you're in the saddle for a couple-three hours at a time, it's fun to have something to dance to.

And it's not like I have to worry about listening for 4-wheelers or bicycles coming up behind us.

If there's anything important to hear, Lucy is the first to point it out, and I can remove my headphones to listen.

Me: Hi, Edgar.

Ravens were the only wildlife we saw yesterday. The snakes are in hibernation, 

and the pronghorn herds have headed south for the winter.

If we're out for a really long time, I usually dismount at the halfway point and give us each a little break.

Lucy: Break, my ass... You can't fool me. I know why we stopped here.

Me: Sorry, Lucy, I can't help myself.

Me: It looks like we're bringing home a baby burro!

Lucy: You're up there playing shadow puppets when it's an hour past my lunchtime.

Have you no mercy?!

Me: Love your earrings.

Down the Trail with Lucy

Lucy and I save our most adventurous and longest trail rides for Sundays. We like to go someplace new every week. 

Yesterday, I decided to take my good camera with us so you could come along for the ride today.

I've been teaching Lucy that when I drop the rein across the top of her shoulders, she must stop and not move her feet until I pick up the rein. We've got this working for us about 95% of the time on the way out. On the way home is another story, but she's getting better all the time. I call this cue my "parking brake." I can sit up there and take as many pictures as I want, knowing she won't move anything but those beautiful ears. Yes, I love Lucy.

This picture is significant only for what is not in it. Hank is snoozing in the barn with George and Alan, not running around the corral looking for Lucy. The big baby has finally figured out that we always return eventually and he need not work himself into a lather while we're gone.

I've been meaning to show you Lucy's new headstall with the snap crown browband. These are made for mules and donkeys so that you don't have to fold their ears while putting on the bridle. Even though Lucy has no problem with me folding her ears, 

using the snap just seems more polite. This one is Amish-made and we love it.

Lucy is also wearing protective boots on her front legs these days. These prevent her 

from nicking the insides of her pasterns and also keep out any cactus needles we might run into.

You: I thought we were going for a ride. Why are you taking all these pictures from the ground?

Every long trail ride out here includes at least three or four barbed-wire gates at which you've got to dismount and stab yourself a few times while you try to open them. You've got to slide the top wire loop off the post, then lift the post out of the bottom loop, then carry it out of the way as you walk through. I used to hate these things when I was riding horses for fear they'd spook at the wrong time and tangle themselves up while I wrestled with the gate. Now? Piece of cake. Say it with me...I love Lucy.

You know we're talking about you, don't you, Lucy?

When we got home, I went on Google Earth to see where'd we been and how far we'd gone (6.5 miles). 

I love technology. But not as much as I love Lucy.