Adam Jahiel is In Search of The Last Cowboy. Now personally, I don’t think they’re quite rare enough to warrant that sort of search, but he’s taking some stunning photos along the way.

“Remuda, Spanish Ranch”, the opening photo of the The Last Cowboy gallery is one of my favorites, though Rancho Grande is quite stunning as well. I learned to work horses in a round pen that looked just like that. That brings back a lot of good memories, and a few painful ones. Go take a look through his galleries.

Thanks to Jan of CascadeExposures for sending me the link.

A Clinton pet fable… foible… whatever

Socks, says Flangan, helped to humanize the Clintons, especially Hillary who took the cat with her on personal appearances. The cat’s ultimate fate was to be off-loaded and adopted by one of Bill Clinton’s secretaries.

Buddy, was killed 2002. Left unattended, he ran into the path of a car near the Clintons’ home in Chappaqua.

A similar fate befell Zeke, a Clinton pet that paid the ultimate price when it ran, unattended, near the Arkansas state capital and was struck by a car.

While I wouldn’t vote against someone just because they didn’t like pets, it might consider how they treated animals as part of my judgment on them as a human being. I’d give as much weight to how they treat animals as I’d give to how they treat people.

There is nothing wrong with avoiding contact with animals if you don’t like them, in fact I’d consider that a mark in your favor. Knowing yourself and your limitations is a good thing. It would be a big mark against you however, if you put yourself in contact with animals for some sort of personal gain, despite disliking them.

This story is sad really. Pets can bring so much enjoyment to a household if they’re treated properly. It’s a shame to instead see them treated like necessary household accessories.

Update: Here is a perfect example of the humanity to animals that I’d see as a positive attribute in a leader.

I felt it necessary to explain the term “Cowboy Pinball” that I used in the previous post. It’s an obscure game played by horses and mules. (I’ll use a mule for this example, they’re the better players.) It’s played in a highly reinforced round pen, usually between 40-50 feet in diameter with at least a seven foot fence. For added excitement, a sturdy pole can be placed in the center of the circle, as is used in the South American horse training tradition.

The game is initiated by the mule when, after several unsuccessful attempts to remove their rider, they decide to play pinball instead of just bucking. Pinball involves accelerating across the center region of the round pen, then veering randomly into the fence. From the mule’s point of view, the more perpendicular the impact the better. A glancing blow on the fence run the risk of stripping the rider off, while a straight impact just knocks them back in their seat.

Contrary to what you might think, the object of the mule’s game isn’t to remove the rider, but to keep the cowboy in play as long as possible. This is done by keeping them off balance, repeatedly crashing into a fence, rebounding in new direction, and repeating. The center pole, if present, can be used in a glancing fashion to remove stirrups, bang shins and kneecaps, or otherwise keep the game going.

Every sport has its stars, and this one is no different. You can tell the real gifted equine athletes because of their ability to throw their heads back or to one side, taking the impact on their chest. Not only does this save them from injury, but it shortens the possible response time of the rider. At thirty plus miles an hour, the time between the mule’s chest hitting the fence, and the cowboy hitting the fence, is really too short to execute much of a defense. A quick mule will be almost to the next fence before the cowboy stops seeing stars.

Now the object of the game for the cowboy is a bit different than the mule’s, he doesn’t want to play this game at all. He wants to regain control, and stay away from fences. Regaining control involves directing the flight. Circling is good, pinball is bad. In that short span between stars and the next fence, you must regain directional control. Deflect the path of the flight, turn it, and you control it. The game is won and lost on that next fence. If you can turn the mule away from one fence, your almost there. You miss one fence, and the next one is easier, and so on… just don’t forget that damned center pole.

It’s an exciting game, but I’m happy to say I don’t play anymore. I’m too old for that $%#@.

Despite a couple of rounds of Cowboy Pinball with a mule named Deke, I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart for mules. While I’ve had some good horses over the years, I’ve never owned a mule. This is the kind of mule I want, a true bad ass. I’ve had two horses in my life that were fairly hard on dogs, but nothing quite this extreme. Extreme enough though, that this doesn’t seem outside the realm of possibility.

As the lion approached the dogs the mule snatched him up by the tail and started whirling him around. Banging its head on the ground on every pass.

I had a quarter horse that would grab a dog, take a half turn and throw, but never the whirling tactic. Since I’ve seen that quarter horse throw a hundred five pound dog well over twenty feet uphill, I have no doubt of the devastating effect this mule would have had. Impressive mule.

I want one. I wonder how hard they are to break to ride? Zebras are considered unbreakable, though a few have been. Zedonks, Zebra mule crosses take reasonably well to pack saddles, though they don’t care for lead-ropes I understand. Interesting markings on this example. Like a paint pattern, with stripes only on the spots.

Meet the zorse

This animal with distinctive markings is a zorse – the off-spring of a female zebra and a male horse.

Thanks to Sage for sending em the link.

Drunk rides horse to bank, it leaves deposit

The 40-year-old machinist told Bild newspaper he had had ”a few beers” with a friend in Wiesenburg, southwest of Berlin, and decided to hit the hay in the bank on his way home.

Confronted with the lack of a hitching-post, he brought the 6-year-old horse, named Sammy, in with him.

Just goes to show, you should never get so drunk you can’t ride your horse home…

Never had that problem myself, I’ve never been much of a drinker. I’ve fallen asleep a coulpe of times though, and that can be problem too. You never know where you’re going to wake up.

This is the Thursday edition of the Open House, and it’s now open.

He falls 12,000 feet with a partially opened parachute. The video of the fall is a little nauseating, he’s spinning pretty fast. His friend’s video shows the fall from above, and it’s a spectacular crash. In terms of his life, and his friends, this is a truly lucky man.

World exclusive skydiver video… watch the incredible footage here! | the Daily Mail

I’ve never parachuted, (and I’m not going to either), I just don’t need that much excitement in my life. I realize that crashes like this don’t happen very often, but that’s all that would be going through my mind as I prepared to jump. I’d likely have a heart attack before I got out of the plane.

While not in this class of accident, I have been in some fairly exciting horse wrecks. Unlike this gentleman, my friends (and family) never seem to jump in and lend a hand. Mostly they stand back and laugh. I’m sure they’d call for medical attention if it was needed, but sometimes the hysterical laughter is a little distracting. You’re trying your best to keep yourself and your horse in a nice vertical relationship (ground – horse – rider = good, ground – rider – horse = bad) and all you can hear is cackling. Of course some of my more infamous incidents happened in remote areas, so medical attention isn’t always an immediate option. I tore up my back while riding in the Pasayten Wilderness once and then had to get back on the horse and ride 18 miles to the truck. That’s one time a good friend parachuting to the rescue would have been welcomed.

h/t Boing Boing

Trackposted to Perri Nelson’s Website, Rightlinx, third world county, stikNstein… has no mercy, Woman Honor Thyself, The Crazy Rants of Samantha Burns, Adam’s Blog, basil’s blog, Pirate’s Cove, Stuck On Stupid, Cao’s Blog, Jo’s Cafe, and Right Voices, thanks to Linkfest Haven Deluxe.

After my last post, it occurred to me that I didn’t put up a photo showing why my father like that trail so much. Here’s two reason why he loved it. The view… and the view.

Trackposted to Wake Up America, Perri Nelson’s Website, Faultline USA, The Random Yak, Adam’s Blog, basil’s blog, Maggie’s Notebook, Blue Star Chronicles, Planck’s Constant, Renaissance Blogger, Common Folk Using Common Sense, Dumb Ox Daily News, and Jo’s Cafe, thanks to Linkfest Haven Deluxe.

I was discussing good mountain trails with someone the other day, and I promised to post a few pictures of one of my favorites. I like this one because it was one of my father’s favorites. Click on the photos for larger versions.

This is Hoodoo Pass, Washington State. The first picture is taken from the bottom of the last climb. The trail is barely visible crossing the upper edge, below the cliff.

This was taken looking back from one switchback short of the summit, the trail is visible almost the entire width of the photo.

Here’s a perspective shot for you. That’s four ridden horses and two pack mules entering the first switchback. Coincidently, they are passing where photo two was taken.

More photos of the Hoodoo

Trackposted to Perri Nelson’s Website, Faultline USA, The Random Yak, Adam’s Blog, basil’s blog, Maggie’s Notebook, Pirate’s Cove, Blue Star Chronicles, The Pink Flamingo, Planck’s Constant, Renaissance Blogger, Common Folk Using Common Sense, Dumb Ox Daily News, Conservative Cat, and Right Voices, thanks to Linkfest Haven Deluxe.

I’ve been expecting this story since the accident, and here it is.

Barbaro euthanized after complications

KENNETT SQUARE, Pa. (AP) — Kentucky Derby winner Barbaro was euthanized Monday morning after complications from his breakdown at the Preakness last May.

I’m seeing some odd similarities between my recent experiences with horses and the Senatorial campaign here in Virginia (Jim Webb is running against George Allen.)

This morning I spent about twenty minutes trying to find two horse in a large pasture. It was dark and foggy, and the horses are dark brown. They chose this morning to ignore my calls and wait for me to find them. At least once I passed within thirty feet of one of them without knowing it. I walked past and she remained quiet. Only after I found that particular horse did she whinny, quite loudly, right in my face. Once they were both found, I removed their muzzles (keeps them from overeating) and let them enjoy the rest of the day in peace.

Politics around here seems to be going the same way. Lots of darkness and fog, not much in the way of useful noise. I have no idea what either of them stands for, they just keep blathering on about how bad the other one is. I have no idea who to vote for because from what little I hear, they could both stand to be muzzled.

To see the countryside properly, it’s all about the mode of transportation. My favorite mode of transportation is of course the horse. Here’s two of the best I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.

Seringa on the North face of Old Goat mountain in the late 80s.

Hickory, the best packhorse ever, bar none.

I must confess that I trained both of these horses, though their greatness was in spite of that, rather than because of it.

BREITBART.COM – Barbaro Is ‘Frisky’ After Surgery

Kentucky Derby winner Barbaro was “bright and appropriately frisky” Monday after surgery from his broken hind leg, even showing an interest in mares, but the colt still faces a long and perilous road to recovery.

I was watching the race at home when this happened. They haven’t said anything about the cause yet that I’ve heard, but it sure looked like he got hit from behind by another horse. Not quite a bump, but a horse crossed behind him very close right before he pulled up. Made me think the other horse hit the back of his leg as he crossed over. I thought one of the news channels would have been all over this by now.

Al at Cold Fury is still riding a fixie (fixed gear bike). He has a humorous post about accidentally learning to skid stop.
Cold Fury » The Accidental Skidder

I’m not a master yet, but it’ coming along. Mostly by accident and happenstance, but hey, I’ll take it any way I can get it. Accidentally acquired knowledge is just as useful as information acquired on purpose.

I’ve never ridden a fixie, but I had the “Accidentally acquired knowledge” experience a few times, mostly on horses. While his was inspired by missing his truck, mine have traditionally been inspired by fear or outright terror. I broke horses for a number of years, and while they all turned out good in the end, a few got a little out of hand along the way. Few things are quite as inspiring as riding on a horse that suddenly doesn’t want to be ridden. You find yourself remembering every riding trick you’ve ever learned, as well as three places you’d rather be and fourteen reasons you really really shouldn’t be in the saddle to begin with. Along with all of those random thoughts you sometimes think of something new.

A number of years ago I was working in Eastern Washington State when I had the opportunity to ride in a public demonstration. Everything went well until about half way though the ride. I and about ten other riders were in the middle of a serpentine pattern when my horse started to come unhinged. (The bicycle equivalent I suppose would be riding down a nice mountain road and noticing your handlebars rapidly loosening.) The serpentine pattern quickly broke apart as my horse shed all of her training and most of her common sense. Two or three jumps into the really interesting part of the ride I decided to let her continue on without me.

While the decision was sound, my timing was bad. Mere milliseconds after pushing off and abandoning ship I realized something important. While it was quite hot down on the ground where we’d launched from, it was a little chilly where the horse and I were now, and I could swear I could see my breathe condensing. Right then and there I learned a new trick, remounting a horse I’d just jumped off of, before she (and more importantly I) hit the ground. I didn’t finish that ride in the saddle. I landed on my feet though, and maintained control of the horse.

I’ve never (thank you God) had the opportunity to use that particular remounting technique again, but I learned something else that day. I’ve ridden a lot of horses since then, and had a few accidents as well, but that lesson has stayed with me. No matter what’s going on, no matter how bad it looks, stay calm and don’t make rash decisions that make things worse.

Thanks Al for reminding me of that “accidentally acquired” lesson, it’s been a while since I’ve thought of that ride. The horse I don’t need to be reminded of. Once she learned she could dump me if she really wanted to, she didn’t really want to any more. I will have owned her twenty-one years this coming August, and her daughter will be nine in June. Best horses I’ve ever owned.

Watching my children grow and learn has gotten me thinking about how we learn. Trial and error is very over-rated. I think only as a last resort should we learn from our own mistakes. Wouldn’t it be better to learn from someone else’s? Sure if you burn yourself you learn not to grab hot things, but wouldn’t it be easier if you learned not to grab hot things by watching someone else get burned. I for one have learned a lot of things for myself that I would rather have learned from someone else.

In a rare moment of generosity and in the spirit of public service, I thought I would list some of the things I’ve learned so that others might learn from my example. In the interest of clarity I’ve grouped them into several major categories.

Velocity

• The human body skips like a rock when it hits the water at high speed. My best is three skips.
• It is possible to hydroplane on a bicycle if you go fast enough. That skipping effect works on pavement too.
• Very few things feel as fast as being in control of a good horse. Not being in control of a bad horse is one of those things.
• Your vision blurs when you exceed approximately 30 mph when riding a bicycle on a washboard dirt road. A hydroplane-like effect kicks in shortly thereafter.

Newton’s First Law of Motion – Every object in a state of uniform motion tends to remain in that state of motion unless an external force is applied to it. - link –

• A horse can go from top speed to a complete stop in a few body lengths. Riders usually take a bit longer.
• Contrary to popular notion, a horse can’t throw you so high your breath condenses. They can throw you high enough you have to take a breath in order to continue swearing on the way back down.
• A stopped BMW can bring bicycle from 40 mph to zero instantaneously… So can a Mustang… and a Jeep.
• A good horse can run through heavy trees at lightning speed without hitting anything. Not all horses are good.

Miscellaneous, or “Hey dude, watch this!”

• It is possible to ride a horse into the bed of a truck. If the truck has an enclosed top, duck.
• If while on a horse you look past your feet and see sky, it is time to define your exit strategy.
• If a trainer wants you to train one of their horses… Run away.
• Never ride a horse named Banjo. See “If a trainer wants you to train one of their horses…”
• The first time I tried walking down a steep hill while wearing spurs I discovered two things. An unknown gift for profanity and the true origins of Rollerblades.

I hope that you’ve all learned something here today. Remember, learning from your own mistakes should only be done by professionals. Everyone else should make sure you have a good view, sit back, relax, and learn from the mistakes of others.

I spend time each day taking care of my horses. I have most days since I was a teenager. You can learn a lot about human behavior from watching herd animals interact. One horse in particular has been amusing me lately. Actually she’s amused me for twenty plus years, but lately my wife has put a name to one particular behavior. The Postal Dance.

It’s the behavior you see when someone pushes her too far. She’s one of the smaller horses, and the most polite in the herd, but oddly the most dominant as well. Some horses take the politeness as submission, and try to push her around. She’ll ignore them for a while, but there is a point that they aren’t allowed to cross. Then that thin veil of civility moves aside for a second, the her opponents see the see the Hell Bitch in true form. In twenty years I’ve never seen a horse look the Hell Bitch in the eye without backing off. Whatever it is they see when they look at her, it isn’t something they are willing to stand up to.

Most horses back off quickly… some not quickly enough. The ones that are slow pay the price. Her first move is usually with teeth, then a quick spin into them with both back feet. It’s always over in a few seconds, and I’ve never seen her really injure another horse. I’ve seen brutal horses, and horses left marked up and bleeding from fighting, but never with her. She goes for fear and intimidation and not injury and pain. Both the biting and the kicking are used to prove dominance and control. She completely overwhelms the opponent’s defenses, and then quits. It is the rare horse that tries her twice. The Postal Dance, that lightning fast transition from civil to psychotic and back. The seemingly blind fury of righteous indignation, barely controlled, and then shut off like a switch when the moment has passed.

I’m not always sure what I should learn from her behavior. Self control, possibly. The idea that there is a point where you can’t be pushed any further, maybe. The one hundred percent commitment to a goal, at the expense of all reason and logic, I hope not. Most likely what I will take is, never start a fight, but always finish one.

Wander -
1. To move about without a definite destination or purpose.
2. To go by an indirect route or at no set pace; amble: wander toward town.
3. To proceed in an irregular course; meander.
4. To go astray: wander from the path of righteousness.
5. To lose clarity or coherence of thought or expression.
Source Dictionary.com

Definitions 1-3 are preferred, number 4 is frowned upon, number 5 is not allowed.

Mode of transportation while wandering is important. This is one of the aspects often overlooked by amateurs. A certain amount of inefficiency is not only acceptable, but preferred. Getting to your destination too fast can ruin an otherwise successful Wandering.

Transportation must have character, because traveling is the point, not the means to an end. My personal preference for wandering is horseback, but the right choice of horse, like other modes of transportation, is a must. A horse must be trustworthy, maneuverable, and comfortable. Precise handling and braking, like with cars, is important. A strong sense of self preservation is good, but the broad mindedness to include you into the “self” being preserved is better. The ability to stay calm in a crisis is good, the ability to stay out of the crisis altogether is better.

The key to a successful Wandering is not to enjoy the destination in spite of the trip, but to enjoy the trip, regardless of the destination.

I watched Jeremiah Johnson (1972) yesterday. Great movie, staring Robert Redford. I’ve always liked the movie, but it made me think this time. It’s been quite a while since I saw it last, several years and a lot of miles. Jeremiah seems so at peace at times when he’s alone. He has found his place in the world. While I’ve never quite found that, I’ve lately become more aware of the search for it. I’ve never been much of a fan of “finding yourself” pop psychology, but there is a certain need in everyone to know yourself.

My recent revelations have been about solitude. I need a certain amount of solitude in my life. Apartments and confined living drive me nuts. I’ve spent a fair bit of my life living with neighbors within talking distance, and I need more space than that. I’ve come to a place in my life where I can afford that space. As well as the increased distance to neighbors, I’ve been spending more time alone. My wife has been extremely busy lately, and often has been falling asleep early. I’ve been spending an hour or so each night after she’s gone to sleep reading or working on some project alone. No distractions, no dogs, no kids, nothing but the task at hand. It’s amazing how relaxing that can be. Makes the time I do spend with her better.

In my youth, my wanderings were mostly in the high desert areas of Washington State. Just my horse and I. I’d be curious to know how many hours I spent in those mountains alone. I thought I chose the name of this blog on a whim, but now I’m not so sure. I think High Desert Wanderer suits me a lot better than I originally thought.

There are people who thrive in the big city, and I’ve always known I wasn’t one of those people. I’m coming to realize I’m a lot farther from that than I thought. I moved a lot in recent years, each time a little further from what most people call civilization. While I work in a technological field, I’m seeing how getting away from technology, the noise, and the people, is what really keeps me going. So while I haven’t found true peace, I’ve seen the path to it. I may not have perfect peace, but I have a beautiful wife and family, a couple of good dogs, a couple of great horses, and a little solitude. I can’t see how it could be much better than that. I am truly blessed.

I’m not dead. I’m just employed. I haven’t written in a couple of weeks because I’ve started a new job. To make things interesting, my two year old has been waking me up several times a night, and my horses have been sick.

Horses can be like kids. Sick enough to need medication twice a day, well enough to make me have to run them down twice a day to give them the medication. Such a pain. Can’t sleep at home, can’t quit yawning at work. Great first impression for the job I’m sure.

Like most jobs, there is a learning period where you find out how everything works. This one has been a little strange. I feel like I’m working incredibly slowly, learning the job as I go, but everyone seems to think I’m incredibly productive. Makes me wonder exactly how incompetent my predecessor was, my guess at the moment is extremely. It’s making me look good anyway.