Ride + Ride = Weekend

Saturday: After sleeping in, dragging our feet, and generally stalling, we headed out to Seneca Park/Berryville Road. Stopped for lunch along the way, the boys patiently waiting for us in their trailer. We drove on to the park, missing nearly every light on the way, and then parked at Schaeffer Farm Park, which was teeming with bicyclists, and some hikers and their dogs.

Drivers, coming and going,

were going a little too fast on the gravel road, we were getting dusted. We hurried out of there, headed into the woods. I ride 'ahead' looking down the trail, around the corners, etc., to see if I can get a glimpse of the next obstacle, be it a bike, a hiker or a downed tree.

The woods were certainly busy on this gorgeous Saturday. We should have started sooner. Without getting lost, we made it to the Black Rock Mill ruins and the trail head to Seneca Greenway trail. Nicely maintained and trimmed, upgrade bridge assemblies that take a horse's weight without sagging.

When we transitioned from this portion and onto Rt. 28 section, the trail deteriorated. There was no evidence of horse traffic and some of the branches had to be dealt with. Along this section he, again, lost his glasses. Seems to be making a habit of dropping his glasses lately. I also got poked in the head with a healthy multi-flora branch, making my head bleed.

There were bridges on this section, too, but they were not 'finished' for horse people. The boys climbed up on them anyway, but I wouldn't recommend it for just anyone to do this. I've seen ugly accidents on RFD-TV or YouTube were the horses slide off the side, or spook and end up in the drink.

Before this happened, at a fork in the trail couldn't help but notice the eviscerated guts, swarming with flies, most likely a deer. Further down we paused to trim a scrub bush covered in mult-flora rose. I was repeatedly stabbed in the hands and arms while snipping, making passage for me and KC. While we were wrapping this up a hunter, dressed mostly in camouflage was on the path, with crossbow and metal quiver full of arrows.

KC is a real people-person; he walks right up to people on the trail, pausing to say 'Hi.' Not so with this guy; he did not like this guy one little bit. I couldn't get him to move forward, or move aside to allow this guy to walk past. KC did not like this at all!

We made it to the Berryville Road trail head, watched the farmer raking hay in the field, and a large tractor with a baler come down the road and up into this same farm. We turned back to head home; this trail is not a loop.

Right past one of the downgraded bridges I see equines on the ridge above us. He notices them, too, but gets all jazzed because they are MULES. He was hyper for about a half hour after that. I don't think he even noticed another guy in a hammock on the creek. KC kept looking over his shoulder, expecting Mules to be coming for him.

Later in the day as we head towards the trailer there is still a number of people in the park. KC wanted to turn left, assuming it is the fastest way back, but we turned right and once again we got caught up in the Orange Trail dead-end loops. KC was right, but went along with my poor choice anyway. We managed to get back in the direction we needed to go. After going down the serpentine trail and crossing the bridge, the boys got a drink. I can hear the bikers coming down the hill at a good clip, talking to each other. Skip is still in the water; KC is on the side, eating greenery.

The lead biker comes over the bridge, and then through the creek, which has been upgraded with Hasting Block. I really like this improvement and it took KC a while to appreciate it. I think it is the holes in the design he doesn't like, but he has come to rely on the firm footing it provides.

The biker comes over the blocks and realizes we are right there on the trail. How can a 1,000 pound animal, with a rider, be invisible on the trail? This is not the first time. If we were a tiger or a bear, what would happen? The biker commented on the fact that KC was so calm. Yes, he is. Just don't let him glimpse a Mule.

Sunday: Drove up to Kingsville, about an hour north, to ride at Gunpowder State Park. We parked at John Mace's house, evidence of riders from yesterday in the field. We saw no other horses on the trails all day.

Stopped at Big Falls Inn for pit sandwiches and a can of beer. The place was busy, but no other horses. Neither moved a muscle while the motorcycles were reving or peeling out.

The day heated up and the boys were not enthusiastic. The river and creeks were low on water, the algae was doing very well. I could barely get a stride of canter out of him the whole day, until we were within sight of the trailer.