Kwa Heri

This is my last post to this blog, which I am going to delete once I finish writing this. It takes ages for a blog to disappear off blogger though, so I thought I'd write a little goodbye note.

I enjoyed creating and writing this blog, but then a few things happened...my horse got sick. I needed to travel. It started to rain and rain. Then a family illness required me to travel again, and this time for a long time. So I could see my riding goals getting more and more remote and less and less likely. At this point, I will be lucky to squeeze in one or two shows before leaving Kenya at the end of June, and I will be much too crazy busy to properly feed and care for this blog, keep its mane pulled and its hooves polished.

One of the things horses teach us is the critical importance of doing things right. 

I believe I have found the perfect new home and owner for my beloved Joya, of whom I expect great things with a younger and bolder rider than myself. She's so talented, and on the verge of those golden horse years -- old enough to listen, young enough to go the distance.

As my dressage instructor A. says, "Ach, these chestnut mares...but still, she is almost going like a real horse."

From Ducati to boda-boda bicycle...the Billary Effect

My vet told me I could start riding Joya again, as she is over her bout of billary (tick-borne disease, nasty!). Yesterday we went on a short hack, mostly walking with some trotting and a few very short canters.

She was fine, but the difference between Joya in top condition, and Joya after an illness and three weeks off work, is huge! Since I'd recently been wrangling with my husband and son about which is more fun, motorcycles or horses (I know, stupid question), the comparison that came to mind was between a Ducati and the bicycle taxis here, which are called boda-bodas.

Because one thing horses teach you is to look at the bright side of your setbacks -- a great gift, really -- I have decided to take advantage of Joya's rather low-energy state to work on the things she just doesn't tolerate working on when she is feeling strong. Getting on the bit while at the walk, for example. Smoothing out her turn on the forehand. Really straightening out our signals for turn on the haunches.

Meanwhile, I'll be dropping my stirrups more and doing more sitting while trotting.

Goodbye Riffraff

I did say that I would be going on and on about my great S. African safari, didn't I?

This will be it, though, I promise...

I just wanted to mention two particular moments that will stick with me for a long time.

The first is from our longest wild charge down the beach.  Just before giving us the Go signal, Howard told us all, "Just one thing to watch out for. Sometimes there might be a baby seal on the beach this time of year, and when they see the horses coming sometimes they move. Nothing to worry about, but your horse might be startled."

I immediately filed that under the things guides tell us to make us think we might have an adventure...like the elaborate inspection of any bush you are considering going behind to have a quick pee when out in the bush. "Lions. You never know." I just never believe that there's going to be a lion.

Silly me. Two minutes down the beach, and a baby seal -- just as cute as you might expect, if not cuter -- makes a mad dash for the sea, right in front of us. None of the horses spooked, and he wriggled safely out of our way.

The second was on our last day of riding. We had gone with Howard to one of the farms where he pastures his horses to bring a bunch of expectant mares and a few older foals over to Farm 215. Howard was riding his boss mare Nona, who looked about ready to give birth right there in the road, and the rest of us were on our regular rides. Howard and Nona led the way, the other mares and foals following, and the rest of us behind to discourage stragglers.

One part of our path took us alongside a big reservoir of water for the farms nearby. Because it's been raining so much, the path along one side of the reservoir was actually under about two feet of water. It was just so much fun watching the foals and their moms splashing through the water, then following them, everyone just having a good time. Then our final long canter along the shore of the reservoir... right by a pair of blue cranes, enormous strange birds, making their rackety clackety sound.

Hanging out with Riffraff, continued....

Our five days of S. African riding was centered on the Stanford/Hermanus/Gasbaai area. According to the Farm 215 website, Hermanus hosts the only traffic light in the entire Overberg region, and that is NOT meant as a compliment to Hermanus.

Between Hermanus and Gansbaai is a beautiful stretch of sandy shore that is a nature reserve. Howard's company is allowed access to the reserve for riding. On our first day, that beach was our destination, with our minds on a wild beach gallop to test our horse/rider partnerships, and our nerves.

A plan that was made without regard for the WIND. It was howling off the ocean that day (this is spring in S. Africa, and the weather tends towards the psychotically changeable). As we trudged through the dunes edging closer to the shore, the wind grew stronger and stronger, picking up more and more of that fine white sand. We struggled to find things to wrap around our faces, going for that Lawrence of Arabia-meets-Hidalgo look, managed a few minutes actually on the beach, and then retreated, joking about how we hadn't been told about the free micro-dermabrasion treatments included in the safari.

From there, we trekked to a beautiful self-catering guesthouse behind the dunes, which came complete with a herd of eland outside, satellite TV inside. Inside Sven, the mainstay of the safari support effort, was putting out the sour-cream-and-onion flavored potato chips and cooking pasta, also uncorking a nice bottle of S. African red (all the best stuff stays in the country, very selfish of them). 

Howard's wife and daughter were also there to greet us, along with their brand new puppy. I wish I could tell you her name, but each time I asked, I got a different answer...Chewy and Panda are the two I remember.

Hanging out with Riffraff in South Africa

Let me make one thing perfectly clear: I love Joya. I did not fall in love with another mare, going by the disreputable name of Riffraff, during my recent trip to South Africa.

It's true that we spent a glorious five days together. Yes, I fed her carrots by hand. Yes, I was overheard admiring her deep brown eyes and the fetching star on her forhead. What can I say? The sun was shining, the whales were jumping, the fynbos was blooming. It was a brief moment of madness, but I'm completely over it.

I'm sure Riffraff has forgotten me by now in any case. Meanwhile, Jane, who makes it a rule to never, ever fall off a horse, is almost back to normal after inexplicably finding herself on her back on the road after her safari partner took fright at the sudden appearance of cow from behind a bush. 

Our five-day ride, organized and guided by African Horse Company founder Howard Krut, was terrific. Jane and I were joined by another Nairobi friend, and a young South African woman none of us had met before, a 29-year-old endurance rider, A. Before we set off, and before we met her, Jane and I had been quite intimidated at the thought of heading out on trail with such a young and undoubtedly fit companion.

In retrospect, I think it was very brave of A. to sign up for five days with three strange (well, not very strange) women...I can't imagine anything worse than spending up to eight hours a day in a saddle in the company of people you don't like, so it was a great relief to discover we all got along.

Our trail started at Farm 215 in the Overberg region of the Western Cape of South Africa. Given the name, we didn't know quite what to expect. It turned out to be a lovely guest house with a Scandinavian flair, good food, and very comfortable rooms. It's on what is being marketed as "the fynbos trail," which is a network of hiking trails through the famed fynbos ecosystem of this part of the South African coast. I can't really explain what fynbos is, except it translates as "fine bush" and is made up of a staggering variety of unusual plant life, most of which was in flower as we rode...proteas, everlastings, and who knows what else.

(to be continued...)

A tick in the ointment

Poor Joya has billary! A nasty tick-borne disease that can really knock a horse back. So it probably wasn't my cheese-cucumber sandwich diet to blame for our poor showing at the Kabete Happening.

My vet says at least two weeks of no riding, others I've talked to say it can take up to six weeks for a good recovery. Apparently billary puts a real strain on a horse's heart so you have to be very cautious. So we've withdrawn from the Sanctuary Farm Event in Naivasha and may have to withdraw from the Horse of The Year Show here in Nairobi in early December.

Fortunately our scyce Peter caught on very quickly that Joya wasn't feeling well. We came back from the show last Sunday afternoon, at which point she seemed well enough, and Peter called me Tuesday morning to say she wasn't eating and wasn't acting like herself. The vet came out right away to draw blood and could tell immediately what the problem was, so she started treatment even before the blood test was done.

By Wednesday, she was eating her hay, though still turning her nose up at her feed, and was perfectly content to inhale the carrots I brought her. Thursday, she didn't want her carrots, so I panicked a bit. Today, Saturday, she ate her grain, gobbled her carrots AND pinned her ears at me in a classic Joya mean-girl moment, and I knew she was going to be OK.

Kids & Ponies

I've had some time recently to watch and photograph one of life's great relationships, the one between children and their ponies. There is a lot about the horse-human relationship that is so instructive for kids, and sometimes so difficult.

This image, which I think of as the Centaur, sort of sums it up. (And has the advantage of not being a recognizable picture of the child involved, which is why I can't post most of the nice pictures I have taken recently). 

I've never been to a horse show without tears, falls, frustration and fear for some young riders. But I've never been to one where I didn't also see children encouraging their ponies, ponies working hard to keep their children safe and in the saddle, and both children and ponies rejoicing in the sheer fun of running, jumping, and hanging around together.

Last weekend at the Kabete Happening I spent half an hour at one of the cross-country jumps at the far end of the course. Cross-country is an interesting thing to watch, because the course is so long that there is no audience at all, just a judge at each jump, and the rider and horse have a feeling of being out there all alone. The horses are going faster, because it's a timed event, and because with the jumps so widely spaced the horses don't need to be so controlled in their speed (because they don't have to turn sharply to the next obstacle).

At this jump, as each child came by and negotiated the obstacle (a big log), every single one had a nice thing to say to their horse..."Good girl!" "Nice job!" "Way to go!" And I though how lovely it was that as these pony-rider teams were tearing through the landscape jumping solid and sometimes scary obstacles,  the kids were so focused on how their ponies were doing.