The Two-Horse Mystery and... Cats

Monday March 15 2010

After discovering a new nesting golden eagle pair on Brown's creek, and seeing another set of promising cliffs a mile upstream, I decided then and there that I have to hike the whole of Brown's Creek, from mouth to source in the Owyhee mountains. (Not all at one time).

Last week I headed out on foot with those next cliffs as the destination. The wind was strong and cold enough to make my eyes water. Little snowstorms dodged around the Owyhee peaks, and an occasional errant snowflake zipped past me, and probably didn't hit the ground till it reached Montana.

I started hiking at the dam... but instead of turning down that drainage toward those cliffs, I decided to follow an old 2-track road west, which after a couple of miles landed me on Brown's Creek. I saw a flying golden eagle - possibly one of the pair I'd discovered, or perhaps a new pair in those new cliffs I was going to.

As I descended into Brown's Creek,

I was sure I'd see a road leading out on the other side (I did), and I was sure I'd see a homestead (I did) which was the one we rode to on the Forgotten Girth Trail. It wasn't! It was another homestead

I hadn't seen before!

That meant the the Forgotten Girth Trail Homestead was further upstream.
I looked downstream toward the cliffs, upstream toward more surprises...

I chose upstream.

I hiked along more cliffs,

crossed through more drainages running into Brown's Creek, one with quite a lot of running water. I discovered a nice spring, some cool rock formations,


and I found a place along a game trail

where deer bedded down.

About this time I'd started glancing behind me, and keeping close watch on the cliffs. I've heard occasional rumors of cougars in this country, but I have never seen proof. That doesn't mean much though. I once complained to my Toiyabe (California) Forest Service Ranger friend, who said there were cougars in that country, though I'd never seen one. He answered, "Oh, but they're watching you!"

That's something you tend to think of when you're walking in somewhat vulnerable places, such as below small bluffs, in narrow washes,

and along a running creek with tall sagebrush (some of them 8 feet tall) and thick willows. Hmmm. I didn't see any cougar sign, (though the ground was too hard to see recent footprints), and I didn't feel watched, but then we humans aren't very in tune to things like that, even if we think we are.

I kept thinking I'd see the FGT Homestead, just around the next bend in the river, at the next locust grove, just past those next cliffs...

but I kept hiking upstream,

and it never arrived. (A map would have been handy, yes, but I wasn't carrying one.) I was quite sure, when I decided to finally turn around for the day, that the FGT Homestead was indeed past the next set of cliffs.

In fact I could see a road coming out on the other side of the creek in the distance that I was (pretty) sure we'd ridden out on. But I'd save that for another day.

I turned around and set out hiking cross country, taking a guess at where the dam was (I didn't have a compass, either - my GPS conked out soon after I set the starting point and timer on it). I crossed more drainages, found more canyons,

passed through a sage grouse lek,

and suddenly started seeing horse poop, and not too old. Horses!?

There shouldn't be horses turned out here for winter grazing, and there weren't wild horses here - the closest mustang herd is probably 20 miles northwest, across many fences. There were no cows turned out here at the moment either. I started seeing horse tracks that weren't too old. People riding out here (in the middle of nowhere)? Sure, we do things like that, but nobody else would be out here. And there was too much horse poop and tracks for a couple of random riders.

I followed the curve of a hill - and there they were. Two horses. A chestnut with gray mane and a pinto. Only two??

How very odd. If ranch horse were turned out here (unlikely), there would be more than two. But if they were wild horses... how did they get here and, a pinto?? (Pretty one, at that,)

They had their backs to me a hundred yards away. Good thing I wasn't a cougar. "Hey guys!" I yelled.

Their heads flew up and they whipped around and stared in my direction. I waved and walked around so they could see I was a human.

That set the chestnut off. He (she?) ran back and forth snorting, stopping, staring, bolting, running away, turning to run back and look - wild mustang behavior. The pinto didn't seem half as bothered, but he (she?) followed the chestnut closely.

I kept switching between my crappy little binoculars and my crummy little camera so I neither got a real good look at, nor real good pictures of them. The chestnut looked a bit mustang-y and had a longer shaggy mane, and in one of the pictures I think you can see a freeze brand on his neck.

The pinto was more stocky, like a ranch horse, and her mane was shorter. I never got a good enough look to see if they were male/female, nor if they were shod.

I didn't bother approaching because I knew I wouldn't get much closer. They continued their behavior - the chestnut running back and forth and looking alarmed and snorting, the pinto following and looking, but not too worried.

I called a few people when I got home, but nobody knew anything about them. I called the rancher Bob who has the grazing allotment, but he didn't call back.

Today while out riding, I happened to run into, of all people, Bob. He was out checking on his cows (the ones stalking our fence line).

"I've heard of those 2 horses from different people over the last couple of years. I think they were dumped out there." One might have been a mustang someone had for a while, the pinto might be part mustang part ranch horse. Who knows. They've got plenty of grass out there now, and access to water, so... I guess we've got two Brown's Creek Mystery Horses out there. It must be good luck to come across them.

"You ought to be careful when you're hiking Brown's Creek," Bob said, when I told him of my mission to hike the whole thing. "Cats."

Cougars! "There are a lot out there," he said - but I'm skeptical. "A lot" can mean many things. There can't be that many out there, and anyway, the chances of seeing one are quite low. I'd be quite lucky to see one (preferably he won't see me) - luckier than finding two horses in the middle of the Owyhee desert.

If I do run into a cougar, hopefully he won't be hungry and I won't look appetizing. I will keep looking over my shoulders. I expect those horses will too.

PEBSBACSCH and the Cow Stink Eye

Sunday March 14 2010

What do you do with a Pig-Eyed Barn-Sour Balky-Ass Chicken-Shit Cow-Horse who's afraid of cows?

You take him out into the cows, what else!

We might have had a relatively stress-less good workout ride today if I'd taken Mac up on the northwest flats, but after two days of scary gale-force winds, besieging cows, and only-the-herd-knows what kind of Monsters that freaked the herd out the last two days, I was, by golly, taking that former cow horse Mac southeast out into the cows.

I thought I'd trot him up the Training Wash, down Spring Ranch wash, and up Blond Cow wash. Good tiring physical workout.

Right.


Just getting this PEBSBACSCH off the home acres toward the fence where the cows patrolled was extremely challenging and irritating. He'd throw out his anchor. I'd spur him on. He'd leap forward then slam on the brakes. I'd spur him again. He'd plant his toes and dig in his heels. His little pig eyes bulged wide and white in terror, (no cows in sight)(NOTHING in sight, actually), and he huffed and puffed short quick little hard breaths like a woman in labor.

We finally made it up and over the Tevis trail (about a quarter mile!) and down into the Training wash, where, though there were no still sign of cows, the going was still lurchy. Mac was convinced something was going to attack him. Getting him moving forward up the wash was like driving a car with the parking brake on. Each foot reluctantly moved forward as if an invisible force was pulling it backwards. His body would sink down like a cat going into a defensive posture at - what!? Maybe he saw ghosts on this bright, clear, still, chilly day. Just because I can't see them doesn't mean he can't. For lack of scary cows popping out of bushes, he found certain tangles of sagebrush roots particularly paralyzing.


Okay, forget the physical training today. Sure, I might have been able to spur him along into a trot, but we'd have ping-ponged and braked and leaped and lunged our way along, and I probably wouldn't have stayed in the saddle for more than a hundred yards. And his brain would have been shot.

Change of plans. Instead, we'd do a mental workout today: braving the terrifying world out here (the one he'd handled just fine the last few rides). A 90 minute ride would turn into a 3 hour ride... but that's what we were going to do.

So, we walked. Jumping, spooking, flinching and balking forward... but we walked.

Monster attack cows appeared ahead. Mac slammed on the brakes, head up in the air, ears forward and twitching. They stared at each other. The cows looked away first, and turned to walk away. Well, then, the cows weren't so scary when they were moving away from us. We walked on. Mac stared down the other cows he met and scared some of them away.


The ex-cow horse was better by the time we reached the top of the Training Wash and rode down into Spring Ranch wash. By now only a few particularly scary sage brushes were assaulting him. He wasn't afraid of the cows anymore. All Mac had to do was give them the Stink Eye and they'd turn away. He even Stink-Eyed a mama and baby 50 yards away, and the calf turned and bolted away, bleating in fright, and mama ran after the baby.

We probably could have trotted on down this wash for more exercise, but since Mac was inflating with confidence, we just kept walking and Stink-Eyeing the cows.

By the time we got to Blond Cow Wash, Mac was throwing the Cow Stink Eye left and right, unafraid, sauntering along, striding out. We even trotted boldly and calmly all the way up Blond Cow, getting a good workout in after all.

This PEBSBACSCH can be exasperating at times - but I still like the bugger!

Under Siege

Friday March 12 2010

We were attacked out on the trail.

Big black monsters skulking everywhere, watching us. Some of them apparating out of the bushes. Some of them screaming at us. One of them split into two almost right before our eyes. One came face to face with us, eyeball to eyeball. Close enough to touch. Tension extreme, the air electric. We both jumped away from each other.

Then came the attack.

From behind. Huge black monster. Charging down on us.

Mac bolts. I almost have him, then he is gone. Zero to forty-five in two strides. Down a steep hill to boot. Uh oh, I'm in trouble here. I haul back on my runaway with desperation and a prayer. Turn him into the sidehill. His panicked head is in the air, legs flailing. Tricky footing. I turn him back to the trail before he falls down, then turn him into the hill again.

The mama cow shoots past us to her baby cow ahead of us. Danger past. We survived. Mac slows down.

Immediate terror is over, but the hearts pound and the sweat pours freely and the adrenaline keeps shooting, from me and Mac.

Did I mention I was riding a cow horse?


He came from the Rushcreek Ranch where he worked cows for a living, but in the years between now and then, he appears to have sort of forgotten that life. He was terrified of a bull we tried to help round up here two years ago. (Or, maybe it was my bad riding.)

But I think even a former cow horse can be forgiven being scared of a huge object barreling toward him from behind. It scared me!

Today it's not only cold and windy (and Mac gets goosey in the wind and I SWEAR he gets scared by his white tail waving behind him) but the cows across the fence has the herd on full alert.

The cows are everywhere, patrolling up and down the fence,

bawling for water, attempting to lay siege to Pickett Creek. They have access to running Hart Creek a few drainages over, but they want our water.

The herd is unsettled. They stand on frozen alert,

ears pinpricked forward, whirl and run away,

spin and run back,

stop, heads up high,

and wheel and dive away again

like a flock of birds, as one organism. And back

and forth again.

And again.





A wind gust rattles the hay barn roof and fence panel. The horses twitch. A tumbleweed flies across the ground. They jump. A dog sneezes. The horses bolt as if electrocuted.


They won't venture more than 50 yards from the hay bale, staying under the invisible shield of protection over the house. When I walk up the pasture to the green gate, where they usually start following me, today they just stand down by the house staring at me,

clustering closer together. They gape at me as if I'm a monster when I walk back down.

They get irritated with each other, pin their ears,

chase each other.

Spar over the fence.


Even Stormy gets mad when I pet him.


Sure they've been in the wind before and they've seen cows before, but these are... cows. In the wind. Some of them may be attack cows. They've heard the survival story from Mac.

It's a good day to forego the riding.

Return of the Amazons

Friday March 12 2010

To quote Paul Sidio, "Quit yapping about Tiger Woods and the girls and start talking about Rachel and Zenyatta!"

Because they're back: 2009 Champion 3-year-old filly and Horse of the Year Rachel Alexandra and 2009 Champion Older mare (and Horse of the Year runner up) Zenyatta.

Both have been training magnificently for a return to the 2010 racing season, which will begin for both of them tomorrow, March 13th.

4-year-old Rachel Alexandra, 8 for 8 last year, will face 4 other mares in the 1 1/16 mile New Orleans Ladies Stakes at the Fair Grounds. She'll carry top weight of 123 pounds, but she'll be spotting the others just 2 to 5 pounds. Her trainer says she "will not be 100% cranked for her debut," but that Rachel may not have to show up to win.

6-year-old Zenyatta, unbeaten in 14 career starts, will make her bow in the Santa Margarita Invitational Handicap at Santa Anita. It's a tall order even for the likes of her: the race is at 1 1/8 miles against 8 other mares, and she's carrying top weight of 127 pounds. If all that wasn't remarkable enough, she'll be giving her opponents from 12 to 19 pounds.

If both mares come out of their races well, both are expected to meet for the first time in the Apple Blossom Handicap (now worth $5 million) at Oaklawn Park on April 9th.

Both of tomorrow's races can be seen live, streaming on www.ntra.com beginning at 6 PM ET, and on television on HRTV. Post time for Rachel Alexandra's race is 6:15 PM ET; post time for Zenyatta's race is 6:40 PM ET.

You might want to tune in, and you JUST might want to skip any endurance ride you've got scheduled if the two meet in April...

The Bloodhorse.com has any and all information you'd like to know on the two mares.

Taking on the Mongol Derby

Thursday March 11 2010

Death is a possibility.

Danger and fear is a probability.

Pain and hardships are a given.

By taking part in the 2010 Mongol Derby in August, "you are greatly increasing your risk of severe physical injury. You could break limbs, suffer internal injuries, become paralysed or even die," according to their website.

So why then would a 39-year-old woman ("I have it on good authority that women do not have birthdays after 39...so I guess I am 39") want to take on the "toughest horse race on the planet," a 1000-km horse race across the wild Mongolian Steppe?

Kat Swigart, of Fullerton, California, answers: "To meet the challenge. All aspects of it, as it is truely a unique challenge with all the facets to it: the riding challenge (which is but a small part of it), the physical fitness, the mental fitness, the planning and preparation - all of the things that led me to be a Boy Scout (literally, I have a membership card with my name on it for the Boy Scouts of America) in high school. I got my survival in the wilderness merit badge on a 9-day, point to point, backpacking trip in the Sierras when (not by intent) half-way through the trip a bear (or bears?) got all our food. The Mongol Derby is an excellent test of the Boy Scout motto of 'Be Prepared.' And there is also the fund-raising challenge to be met at the same time - which is not an irrelevant part of the challenge. This appeals to the MBA in me.

"This but scratches the surface of the challenges I will be facing between now and the end of August. Tell me of another event that presents the same challenge/s....and maybe I will try that one next. Assuming I come back alive (not a guarantee, by any means)," from the Mongol Derby, she says.

Without a marked trail over rough, sparsely inhabited terrain, being exposed to any kind of weather and temperatures, and with limited medical help in ready access, calling this horse race a "challenge" is an understatement.

Riders will have 10 days to cover 1000 kilometers, riding (by map and GPS) to Urtuus (horse stations) approximately 40 km apart, mimicking the old postal system of Genghis Khan, where they will switch horses and continue on to the next Urtuu. Riders are limited to carrying 11 pounds (2 kg) of equipment with them on the horses, so they'll have to rely on local herding families at the Urtuus for food and drink. Additionally, to participate, riders are required to raise 1000 GB Pounds (about $1500) for a Mongolian charity to be announced.

Last year's Mongol Derby, the inaugural running, was not without controversy. The perceived casualness of the organizers, The Adventurists, over the welfare of the 6-800 horses that were to participate, prompted concerns from outsiders, the result of which led to assurances that horse care was of primary importance. Veterinarians were on hand at the Urtuus to monitor horse welfare; and after the ride, organizers reported that less than 2% of the 700 horses that took part in 2009 required treatment, which was all minor first aid. It led to an innovative veterinary training program launched by the organisers of the Mongol Derby that will train more than 20 local veterinarians to ensure the welfare of the horses for this year's ride.

While the horses should be well looked after, the riders are, well, sort of on their own, other than pre-race training for participants that will be provided by Maggie Pattinson, Chef d'Equipe for the British Endurance Squad. Since there is no marked course, riders will make their own ways to the horse stations. They'll carry an emergency beacon they can activate if there's an accident, but there's no guarantee help will be close.

Getting lost, and getting ill from food and drink are Kat's two major concerns. Getting hurt is not. "I can get hurt anywhere; I would be a basket case if I spent my life worrying about getting hurt." She is hoping to refresh her orienteering skills enough between now and then so that getting lost won't be an issue, and she plans to bring along a small stove, "so I can cook the s*** out of everything I eat or drink."

The idea of riding long distances over multiple days is not new to Kat. She's been riding endurance since 1991, and she's done a lot of multi-day rides. Her most rewarding and challenging ride so far has been the defunct Outlaw Trail in Utah, over remote and inaccessible trails that Butch Cassidy and the Hole in the Wall Gang used to escape pursuers. "Doing all 5 days of the Outlaw Trail on the same horse, my first endurance horse, was a choking up experience as I was approaching the finish line of the last day and thinking, 'I can believe we are really going to do this.' Incredible satisfaction. I confess, IF I finish it, I expect the emotion to be even greater from completing the Mongol Derby."

It's probably the biggest challenge Kat has ever taken on, but, she says, "I really haven't given it that much consideration." It's not about how big the challenge is, and it's not about winning. It's about setting a goal, working toward completing it, and testing yourself.

Kat Swigart puts her foot in the stirrup and heads forth into the Mongolian wilderness on a semi-wild Mongolian horse on August 7th.


Kat on Lakota, with her running partner in the Swanton 75 mile Ride N Tie

Top Photo: Kat and Snip on the Outlaw Trail

Trained

Wednesday March 10 2010

"Be back at 5 or 6," I tell the herd when I open the green gate to the canyon in the early afternoon. "Don't eat too much grass, and don't get hurt!" They all give me the eyeball as they walk past me through the gate, then either spread out immediately to graze, or start trotting up the canyon to the more choice spots.

Sometimes, I think I've got them trained nicely. Some days, they come down on their own at 5 or 6. Some days, at 5 or 6, I stand on a little rise and I holler, "Hey booooooooooooooooooys!" which, on a still day, bounces off the hills, echoing far up the canyon. I'll yell a few times, and here they come in the distance,

trotting and cantering down the road, waiting till they pass through the green gate

to blast down to the house.

I always feed Mac and Jose grain, so they know what's waiting for them when they get back.


However, sometimes they don't come down at all. They let me stand there and holler myself hoarse for half an hour, (and I KNOW they can hear me) before I have to get the ATV out and drive up the canyon and find them and holler from closer. I SEE them watching me from across the creek, but some days they completely, absolutely, totally, ignore me. Some days they'll watch me, then head further UP the canyon. (The nerve!) Only when I give up near dark and drive back home do they suddenly come running down to the house, hot on my heels. Mac and Jose know they'll still get their grain, even if it is dark.

On the days the timing and communication work out perfectly, I enjoy watching them hurtle down to the house. On the days they make me wait and ignore me, well, they enjoy hurtling down to the house when they feel like it.

They've got me trained.