September 27, 2023
Last weekend I went solo to the Fall Biltmore ride. I suppose Khaleesi might have something to say about calling it solo since technically we went together, and she might even contend that she’s the one who counts. Regardless, I hadn’t initially planned on this ride when mapping out my tentative calendar, and as it approached, and I kept seeing no reason not to go, my usual crew were all otherwise engaged. I used to ride crew-less fairly regularly years back and it seems the Biltmore is a good ride to take on without help since the vetting and crew area is the same throughout the ride and is near camp. Thankfully, Brandea and Abigail live in the area and though they weren’t available to crew on the Saturday, they met me in camp Friday afternoon and helped me get the crewing area set up.
Biltmore is a “fun” ride for us so to speak where we aren’t so concerned about each minute counting and being concerned for the clock. The difference for us comes down to the footing. There are tons of loose rocks dispersed around gravel roads and paths, but no rock climbing or embedded rocks in the wooded areas that slow us down. The elevation, though it adds up, is never a five mile grueling climb over a mountain. Rolling hills take their toll, but the climbs are reasonable and followed by a recovery plateau or a downhill in short order.
Our last event was the Old Dominion (OD) 100 in early June and most of my readers might notice that the summer has been spent on the herd with more focus on Wyoming than Khaleesi, so with a few exceptions here and there to get her out for a hike or a ride, and the fabulous Harry Whitney clinic in August, she’s been on a break. I thought this ride would be a good prep for the (Old Dominion Series) Fort Valley which is more challenging due to the infamous OD rocky technical terrain and the trail of tears climb that historically happens in both the first and second loop up the rocky side of the mountain. I wasn’t sure what I would find as she increases in fitness and strength over the years so the Biltmore would give us a dry run, revealing what we were going into the fall with under the hood.
Overall I was pleased with what I found. In May the ride was a 55 mile but basically similar overall to the September 50 mile ride. I calculated an overall ride average of 7.3mph for the May ride and a 7.5mph average for the September ride, so comparable all in all.
The difference that was glaringly clear to me after a few days looking back was in the post-ride. After the May ride I had a horse that stood longer with a foot cocked taking rest naps. Eating off and on, but moving around generally less. In walking her later that evening she was slightly shorter strided and a little stiff. Her return to the herd and home field was average, walking around like normal, taking a roll, getting a drink, but in no hurry. Because we live in a river valley and do a lot of climbing in our home riding, and we see a fair amount of rocky terrain, I find the Southeastern rides wear her out more physically because though we do train on the scenic river trail a fair amount adding long trots and cantering intervals, it’s not our normal jam so she is less accustomed to speed over long distances like that.
After this ride she was less “nappy” and spent more time wandering around her pen as I organized our gear to leave the next day, curious about what I was doing, asking for carrots, taking a few bites of her food, picking through the hay for favorite parts and looking for some grass that might have been overlooked in earlier perusals. When I walked her later she was more energetic, clearly limber, and considerably less stiff. The following day we hauled the six hours home and I took her into her stall intending to remover her leg wraps before setting her loose.
I hadn’t noticed her rope lead had worked it’s way to the end of the rope in the halter and as I walked her into the stall from the trailer, I turned to close the outer stall door and saw her leaving the stall into the field while the rope was still in my hand- her end limp on the stall floor. She headed out to greet the herd and I was amazed to see her floating around trotting the field. I grabbed my phone to catch some of it. She wanted to roll and Wyoming (too excited to have her leader return) was crowding her so I watched K warn her, then kick and then in a graceful front-feet-stand send both hind legs toward her asking for some space to roll. Well she can’t be too sore if she’s pulling those acrobatics today.
Then she got up, trotted around almost in a sort of homecoming victory lap, then around toward the water trough to drink before she returned to me in the stall to have her leg wraps removed as if to say: It’s sure nice to be home, I got the herd in line out there, but I’m back. Can you take these leg wraps off?
Not only did I like seeing her floating around the field doing acrobatics, but I like that she presently returned to me before I had to retrieve her. Not only did the ride seem to do little harm physically, it seems we’re still on friendly terms.
As for the ride itself, it was basically smooth, peaceful, and quiet with no problems or snags from doing it without crew. The details aren’t particularly interesting, except the following two experiences that I took particular note of.
In chronological order, the first vet check was easy. All day she had ‘A’ scores and good heart rate recovery (52, then 56, then 64). I was ready to leave a few minutes before my out time in the hope I might be leaving around the same time some of the riders who finished the first loop roughly when we did. This would make leaving camp a little easier for us as this is the biggest challenge for me. After a great 15 mile first loop and returning “home,” my horse is never very excited about leaving again at the Biltmore. Oddly enough, I don’t seem to have this same issue at Big South Fork when she almost seems to drag me back out on trail… The long gravel road along camp seems to have a magnetic draw that is unusually strong in this ride and I think it’s always been this way for us.
Considering we were in the front third or so of almost sixty riders, I didn’t have much to worry about finding other horses going out on trail. We were released with a couple other riders, and there were a couple just behind. This seemed set up well to help us motivate out into the long middle loop, and if we could just get past the magnetic thought field of base camp I knew she’d go along fine. Or so I thought. Within a few steps, we began to trot along with the small group and to my horror Khaleesi began limping at the trot. This was not a questionable, am I imagining she might be off, this felt practically three-legged lame. We walked a few steps and tried again only to find the same limp and immediately dismounted. We were still next to the crew area and I was sure she had a big rock in a hoof that was painful. I inspected all four feet, and just as I had checked them earlier, there was nothing there. That worried me even more. Another crew person I didn’t know at all was near us, saw me, and brought over a stool so I could get back on. Meanwhile my small group was already gone as they weren’t riding “with” us as much as we were overlapping. Now for the time being we were alone, but it didn’t matter because it seemed to me we were not going out regardless.
I took a few minutes to walk and consider. The next few riders went out and jogged by. I wasn’t sure what to do. This is odd, because it seems obvious. My horse was lame. Unquestionably lame. Yet, I had this nagging in that inner place that said walk a bit more, and lets see what happens.
The other voice said: this is the long loop, it’s 20 miles and lots of climbing, aren’t you kind of glad you have a good reason to bail, clean up your stuff, and hey, I even bet you could get on the road today and get home a day early… your own bed… a nice bath… You had a great first loop, considering a good training ride… pull out and don’t do any more damage…
And more quietly, the other voice stood firm: walk a little, get on the grass, see if you can get a decent trot, and you can always turn around, it’s early in the day and even if you hand walk her back a mile or two you have time. Let us see what happens.
And so we left camp slow as molasses not only from the challenge of leaving camp alone, but the concern of a potential lameness nagging me. Alone (as we so often are!) I prayed for wisdom: God, I have nothing to prove and neither does this horse. We have been blessed with a huge victory this season completing the 100 in June, and everything else is gravy. I do not need to complete this ride and I am willing to pull out, but I sense an urge to not give up just yet. The last thing I want is to damage my amazing horse- who is a gift from you that I always want to honor. Please give me clarity on what is best to do here. And if you’d like to just fix it and heal her issue, that would be great. Whatever you decide just please let me know so I can get on the same page.
And I kept hearing that quiet, still small voice urging me not to quit yet.
So we got past the gravel road now almost a mile out. We hit the grassy “runway” and she began to trot-walk transition. I was not convinced she was sound but she was less lame than she had been earlier. I kept thinking we can always turn around if it lingers, maybe she hit a rock just right and it hurt at the moment but it’ll work itself out.
As we continued, a trio of riders came up from behind at a nice steady pace and now about 2 miles out of camp she let go of the anchor her mind had been and seemed to worry less about both leaving camp and whatever was painful and she fell in with them. As we picked up a steady pace I was hypersensitive. First, a little heavier on one diagonal, then in another mile increasingly more even. I worried slightly because she offered to canter more throughout this loop and I don’t know if it felt better on a sore hoof or if she just came round and was feeling good.
Our little band stayed together the entire twenty mile loop which made it less lonely for both of us — I always feel Orange West is longer than the mileage somehow. I figured the next vet check would give us some information if she seems at all off in the trot, but she passed with flying colors again and we were released to finish the ride.
From this, I felt a reminder that sometimes the still small voice doesn’t align with common sense. I felt an encouragement that sometimes we’re called to do things that go against what we can see clearly on the surface in front of us, but when we listen to the guidance which is often the softer deeper message, we may be surprised at what miracles can come if we follow. I tend toward the conservative when it comes to my horse and her needs, but in this case, playing it safe was not the call. I’m a bit astounded by it. I’m not sure if it was a miracle or simply a knowing that this was distraction and not injury. Regardless I am grateful.
The second take away from this ride comes in leaving camp for the last loop, again alone. It’s like variations on a theme! Harry Whitney has a saying that there is nothing heavier to move than a hard thought, and there is not much lighter than a willing thought. Anyone who has tried to drive a horse across a bridge, a river, on onto a trailer when the horse’s mind is convinced otherwise knows, this is a deep truth.
There is nothing heavier to move than a hard thought, and there is not much lighter than a willing thought.
Harry Whitney
Somehow the Biltmore events host the most magnetic ride camp of any we face. Every single ride here, leaving on the third loop is the greatest challenge we face. Last year, on the third loop, before I found the horsemanship strain of Mark Langley, which led me to Harry Whitney, and then to Tom Moates, I had to absolutely DRIVE her down that mile long gravel road and DRIVE her into the grass runway that leads toward the river and out into wooded lime trail where she begins to free up.
Now I have better tools to influence her thoughts, and I ask her to let go of hard thoughts in our day-to-day world anytime it’s helpful. I also have experience helping her find a FORWARD thought since our August clinic and this is a case where her body will comply with my driving forward while her brain is cemented back at the trailer and that means tension, brace, and a fight. With this particular horse it’s a fight I can win, but I hate fighting with her. It’s exhausting.
I was able to guide her thoughts forward without driving her this ride. I was able to get her thinking in transitions to bring her BACK to me at the present place and present time. I was able to bring her mind along sooner and with less disruption than in times past. It felt like trying to leave a magnetic field, the grip the thought rooted in camp had, loosening as the yards went on, and her mind breaking free and starting to roll again. This has happened in the past as I drove her body onward- eventually she would begin to reunite her brain and body in the place I had forced her body to go. This may seem obvious but some horses who have become experts at clinging death grip-like to their own thoughts, can run their body through an entire ride and have never brought their mind from the buddy or the trailer or the food they’d left behind, only rejoining mind and body once they completed the loop.
This final 14 miles we did largely alone though we leapfrogged a bit in the final miles with two riders who we ended up crossing the finish line with. There was no sign of lameness for K, and though it was the hottest part of the afternoon, and this tends to be our slowest loop, we hung pretty steady once the mental ball broke loose around a 6.5mph easy trot.
The final vet out was solid, and she maintained the ‘A’ scores and good gut sounds. Nick congratulated her (wryly) on appearing not to lose a pound in the 50 miles. (In fact she lost 40 total if the scale is correct, but that’s not much in an 1100 pound creature).
In another small miracle, as I looked somewhat unhappily to hand carting my crew stuff the 1/2 mile from crew to trailer in a few trips after finishing 50 miles, I was offered a ride by a new friend that was next to us in camp. That was a blessing for sure.
I think Khaleesi’s stronger recovery from this ride is in no small part due to the help Harry Whitney gave me to increase awareness of when my horse isn’t moving in her most relaxed state. When brace or tension creeps in we are not in best form, and tension creates way more muscle soreness that simply the workload alone. That also goes for me as I felt pretty good after the ride and made a concentrated effort to keep my own body in softness as much as possible.
When we work at our home territory along the river scenic trail, I have been able to keep her softer with good forward motion in the upward transitions into a loose powerful movement. Things on the river trail that creep in to destroy maximum relaxation are usually environmental —like when we pass the handful of homes with tarps, lawnmowers, goats, barking dogs, etc. Her head and neck raises and gets harder in brace as she becomes alert and concerned. I use those moments to influence her, inviting her to let go of her worry, trust me, and relax again. I have various levels of success in this, but the usual distractions are more regular for us as we travel that trail often, and it’s the same goats, the same tarps, etc. most of the time. She can “let go of that” and come back to me more easily because it’s less novel.
In the Biltmore ride there are novel concerns all over the place. None of these has her fleeing in fear, but they have her more alert and less relaxed than ideal conditions. Not only the other guests on trails with baby carriages, bikes, and whatever other ways they move about, but the property is a working farm with large equipment in the distance banging, pigs, sheep, goats, and even other horses in other areas to pull her attention. In last weekend’s ride, because I’m more aware of how this affects her quality of physical movement, I was able to influence it more often. Her relaxation in movement Saturday was better than in any ride past I believe, however it’s not going to match what I can get working in ideal circumstances.
This would be point three if there was a third point. A reminder that any event is going to take the highest level we have come to either in control, attentiveness, relaxation, or focus and it’s going to take that down a few pegs in the least, or blow it out of the water completely in worst case scenarios, or simply accumulation of factors. Whatever issues we are working to improve with our horses (and I hope I always have something I am working to improve!) the ride will test it, and I will always be less effective than under ideal circumstances. This reminder encourages me to work even more with focus in ideal conditions to improve to a point that losing ground in the real test will still leave me with high quality performance. Not only do I head back to the river scenic trail to work on longer trot segments and canter- walk intervals, but I’m insisting on quality relaxed transitions and holding softness in all the gaits to increasing levels each visit.
No wonder I ride alone most of the time…
Aside from the fact that my horse continues to gain in strength and endurance as her years accumulate (she is now 13 and continues to gain momentum as she heads into her prime years), and the fact that she came through a 100 in a lot of strength this year — which means she is in a good year for building, I believe that the increase of relaxation and softness in movement and being able to increase that softness into transitions and higher speed (speed is usually where we find the breakdown) is why her recovery was so drastically improved over past rides.
This is exciting for me because I believe it will open yet another layer of increased performance as we build on it going forward.
If you’re interested in the principals of guiding over driving, of working first with the horse’s thought and not only focusing on the horse’s body, I highly recommend checking out Mark Langley because he has so much available to get started online from a really good podcast to videos on how he works with indirect pressure and guiding.
Mark’s materials are the quickest and easiest to access, but Tom Moates has a 5-book series that is a raw, honest journey into this mental focused horsemanship following Harry Whitney. The journey begins with book 1: A Horse’s Thought. Tom has written hundreds of articles for publications from Equus to Western Horseman and Ecclectic Horseman. He’s studied and followed around most of the “important” recognized horsemen and interviewed them while walking out his own horsemanship journey. Years ago, though he still does plenty of interviews, he began to follow Harry just about exclusively. Tom is a fabulous horseman as well and if you’re not too far from him here in VA you might be able to catch a lesson or put together a clinic with him!
Though Harry Whitney is, as far as I’m aware, the most gifted at sharing this mode of horse work, and has a heart for the humans as much as the horses (which I have observed can be rare) – he is the most challenging to learn from because you simply have to get a seat around a round pen in a clinic, or if you’re fortunate a spot with a horse. He only works one-on-one in his clinics so the participant spots are limited, but I find them pretty paradigm shifting. No one seems to limit auditing spots, so as long as you can get to a place he’s teaching you should be able to find him! If you can get to meet him sometime I can’t recommend it enough.
Regardless of where you are on your horsemanship journey- or if you’re one of the readers who enjoy following my stories and don’t even have a horse… I wish you the best, and the guidance of the still small voice as you go along the way.
If you aren’t a subscriber, consider signing up here to not miss an update! My average blog post comes out every 3-4 weeks so you won’t get regular junk mail from us!
Hope Horsemanship 
One thought on “The weight of a thought.”