MVP

It seems like every year, usually in the winter, that we go on a ride and it is not a good idea. And once committed, we go for it. Given chances to turn back, we don't do it. We persevere like we have to, and we don't, but we do. That’s what we do.

Saturday was a lovely, mild day, coming out of the deep freeze of minus degree nights and not breaking the freezing

point days. The rivers were frozen, but the snow was diminishing and it hadn’t been freezing since Friday morning.

We made plans to ride, because we didn’t last weekend, and that’s what we do. They say it is not the weather it is the clothes, and we have the right clothes to wear. Too bad that didn’t give us brains, too.

Ride out was going to be 10:00 a.m. I didn’t get the message and slept till after 8. I’ve been tired, run down, lately. I’m sure most of it is winter fatigue.

On the way on the 4-lane divided highway, with a posted speed of 65 MPH, I heard a weird noise, like playing cards stuck in the spokes of a bike, or the manure fork rubbing on something at high speed. I asked him if he heard it, he said no, I said look out back, I can't see it. He looks in the rear view mirror and says, 'AW SHIT, the tail gate is down!" The manure fork and the metal yard rake, the one we use in our fire pit, were gone. He quickly pulls over, thinks about retrieving the tools, thinks better of it, puts the tail gate back up, and merge back into traffic.

We got to the club and the gate was locked. It was already after 10, so we weren’t going to make the ride out time, but we were the first to arrive.

Martin was running a little late, but came directly after we got there. The grounds were not plowed, just one lane and the lot next to the dumpsters. Nothing but deer tracks.

Martin brought his youngest daughter and a school-mate. Jake, Bree and Shine were up on deck. I pulled KC’s blanket off and discovered he’s shedding! We tacked up and headed out the plowed lane, down to the trail head at the bottom on the left. I chose the first turn off – and we meandered down the path. The trails were still frozen in most spots, soft and muddy in others. High, thin clouds.

This is where it got ridiculously, crazy bad. I was leading and KC would not step off the trail into the creek. There was a crust of ice still clinging to the shore line, and he wouldn’t step on it or over it. Even if he stepped on it and broke it, the water is about 5 inches deep, with a rock base. Never muddy, not deep, crystal clear.

I invited ‘The Man From Snowy River’ to come up to the front, which he did. Skip stepped off the trail, unto the ice ledge, which broke under his weight. KC followed immediately. Sounds easy and great, right? Bragging rights for Skip!!

This is where Stupid stepped up to bat. Martin got Jake to the edge, but he wouldn’t (and never did) step into the water. Eventually we got Shine into the creek, Bree followed soon after that, and the four of us walked down the creek, leaving Martin and Jake on the bank. KC had had enough of standing in icy water and stepped up on an ice flow, I tried so hard to get him off, but he couldn’t wait around any longer. When we noticed that Jake still wasn’t following, we abandoned the try and got back out of the water and re-traced our steps.

We took another trail, uneventful, got to the bottom of the hill and the trail into the water wasn’t as icy. Skip went first, and everyone followed like good little goslings.

We came up under the bridge into the park; the path was not as icy on this side of the creek. We let them rest in the sunshine and eat some grass. As we proceeded into the park I noticed A LOT of people with a picnic tent erected, and tried to guess who it would be with that many people, that much activity.

It was not anything I had guessed, the boy scouts (Webelos) were participating in the Klondike Derby. And a spectacle it was, too. KC was stunned, and Skip was beside himself, in that out-of-body experience only he can do. Skip got to be such a tourist that he fell down, but managed to get himself back up without any fanfare. I heard the splat and when I turned around all was right with him. But, he got off of him and walked him to the fork in the trail.

KC was apprehensive, but Shine stepped up to lead the way. She is the pony-I’d-most-like-to-own Bay Paint parade and show horse. Maybe one of these days...

We managed to follow one of the ‘dog sleds’ back up to the top where the trailer parking and basketball courts are located and that area was congested with hundreds more scouts and leaders, with food booths and the roadway coned off (cones don’t stop us). KC had trouble wrapping his head around this, too.

More scouts were in the woods, too, and the place was literally roaring with voices. The cacophony was horrendous. We got to the bottom of this hill, where the reservoir stream runs into the river, and found it completely iced over. To cross we would have to break the ice ourselves.

We followed the trail around to another crossing further up and found that was almost completely clear of ice, and crossed with no problem, doubly back, again, to the original path. Some spots of the river were iced over, some were clear. The temperature was nearing 50. Could spring be far behind?

We were late getting to the lunch spot because we had spent so much time in the water, waiting for Jake to join us. We had a nice break, got to visit with some folks we hadn’t seen in a while, and headed back to the trailers.

We decided to cross the river at the closest turn off point, and the way was fairly free of ice, and the ice flow that was there was resting on the sand bar. How hard could it be? Famous last words.

Skip was the first in the water, KC right behind him, the others following closely. I followed Skip onto the icy sand bar, the ice not breaking. Skip made it to the bank, but KC slide into Skip and lost his footing. He lost his feet. We both went down with a thud. KC slid one way, I went the other, and the ice did not break, not even a crack! KC tried to get up, but fell again. I sat up and Martin asked if I was all right. Yea, I better get up. KC got up and joined Skip on the bank. I walked across the ice and joined them. Tom was holding KC’s lead line, and KC was favoring both back legs, one at a time.

Martin and the girls got out of the water, but not on the sand bar. They dismounted and entered the sand bar leading their horses. The ice never broke. I'm still surprised I didn't get wet.

I walked KC further up the trail, and he seemed to be ok. We rode on through the woods and into the open meadows, but the trails through there were still in shade, and still iced over.

Martin’s daughter was in front, and wanted to go faster, and instead of looking ahead, and following the path, went off-trail into the tree nursery. The trees are all wrapped in blue tubes to protect them from deer. Placed in rows, we now are going pretty quickly through the rows following a deer path. Bree ran over a plastic tube, I heard it, and a couple five strides later realized what she’d done and starting bucking. That’s when Jayde hit the dirt. Bree hurried up to get next to Jake.

It took until nearly dark to finally make it home, but the trails continued to melt into treacherous pathways. The last river crossing was ice free and uneventful. No wonder people don’t like to ride with us! Sometimes I don’t like to ride with us.