Horse Trekking in Scotland (4/17/26)

(Cross-posted from Just another perfect day)

Jay and I made a deal back when we first started traveling together that I get to choose a horseback riding adventure wherever we travel. I don't always choose to ride (typically on our birthiversary trips is when I bow out, because we travel with others on those trips). We've ridden in Italy, Costa Rica, and now, Scotland.

It was "crappy weather" when we got there, according to our guide. And, for a Scot to call the weather crappy, you know it's not good weather. Nonetheless, we drove almost an hour to get to the stable, and there were no refunds for cancellations, so we were going.

We sat in the car, psyching ourselves up for a miserable ride.

The rain was coming down in sheets while we were signing our liability waivers and waiting for our horses to be brought around. But then, just as we headed out to mount up, someone dialed back the faucet and the downpour turned into a slight drizzle.

Just a slight drizzle.

Jay's horse, Lucy, took really good care of him
for the whole ride.

Ollie the Pokiest Pony took good care of me

Within twenty minutes of heading out, even the drizzle stopped and we had perfect riding weather for the remainder of the trek. We spent what felt like forever walking on the road, and just as I was getting ready to mentally check-out, our guide asked us if we wanted to go off trail. She must have been as bored as I was, lol.

There must be something about me that
brings out the derp ears on every horse I ride.

We spent a good bit of time riding on boggy hills, crossing little streams here and there. Our guide told us that Achnalarig Stables provided the horses for the Outlander series, which was really cool, and inspired us to start watching it when we got home.

These hills were gorgeous, and off in the distance, you can see Oban.

What I thought would be an absolute drag of a ride in the cold, driving rain turned out to be super fun and relaxing. Jay is always a bit nervous when he rides, because there's so much to think about, he never finds it relaxing. However, on Lucy, he was able to relax and enjoy the scenery and the ride, which is a big win!

Riding in Costa Rica (6/5/23)

On my last post, I didn't mention that these rides are past rides, and I'm just now getting back into blogging/getting caught up. I haven't been riding my own horse recently, so I might as well re-live and share these.

In June of 2023, my sister, her boyfriend, my cousins, Jay and I went to Costa Rica for our "birthiversary" trip. Nebalee, her boyfriend, and Jay all have birthdays within just a few weeks of each other, and our anniversary falls in that same timeframe, so we started taking "birthiversary" (birthday + anniversary) trips in 2022. Our first was Key West (2022), then Costa Rica (2023), Cancun (2024), and Marco Island (2025). Of those birthiversary trips, I've only exercised my "I get to ride" rule once, and what a ride it was!

The trail ride in Costa Rica is my all-time favorite ride. And after nine seasons as a wrangler, I've been on a lot of rides, so that's saying something. I had a vague idea of wanting to ride on the beach, but hadn't done any research into where to ride, so it was serendipitous that our AirBnB happened to be right across the street from the entrance to The Monkey Farm. All along the drive up to our AirBnB, I'd been seeing hand-painted signs for horseback rides, when I saw the sign for the Monkey Farm directly across the street from our driveway, I decided that's where we had to go. We couldn't see what the farm looked like, and we knew nothing about it, but, by God, we were going to ride there!

I promptly made online reservations for the next day, and at our appointed time, Jay and I walked across the street and down a long driveway to the farm. This is a riding blog, so I won't go into the amazingness that is The Monkey Farm, but I do encourage everyone to follow the link and check it out. They're doing some really good things for their community.

We got a little orientation to the farm, and I fell in love before we ever stepped up on the horses. Their equine program is was inspired by the film, "The Mustang", which I've never seen, but know the gist. Our horses came from a similar prisoner program in Canon City, CO. Take a look at the tack - all of their horses are ridden in halters and lead ropes - not a bit to be found.

Yep, wranglers worldwide are the same :)

We opted for the beach ride, about an hour and forty minutes through the jungle and down to the beach. The wranglers have to earn their way up the ladder to taking rides out, and one of the things they have to do is learn to speak English, as well as take classes to become a licensed trail guide (more on that later).

Headed out from the farm.

We stopped at a bluff overlooking the water.

Riding down from the bluff, headed into the jungle.

We had hoped to see/hear some howler monkeys while in the jungle, but just as we entered, the skies opened up and we got caught in a deluge! It was the most amazing thing ever. I've ridden in my fair share of rain and in Colorado, it sucks. 

A lot. 

Colorado rain is cold, and feels like needles hitting your skin. It's a freaking miserable experience that I wouldn't wish on anyone.

Getting caught in the rain in Costa Rica? It was like a warm shower. The water just poured down onto us. We were dry one minute, absolutely soaked through the next.

Jay wiping the rain from his face as it started.

And now, completely soaked. The wrangler had
to dismount to unlock the gate crossing the trail.

I was grinning and laughing like a fool the whole time!

We didn't see or hear any howler monkeys, but the trip through the forest was unforgettable. We laughed like kids stomping in rain puddles the whole way. 

If you look closely in the first clip, you'll see the rain falling as we cross a little clearing. Believe it or not, the rain had lightened up by that point.

The experience of experience of riding from the jungle onto the beach? Freaking amazing! It was like the jungle just opened up and spit us onto this cute little beach. We'd visited the beach before - it's the local beach for the area - but riding it was totally different.

I tried getting some video of my little paint mare walking through the surf, but you can see that it wasn't her favorite thing to do. That should have been a clue.

We rode down to the end of the beach and turned back. I was still having the best time ever. My mare was super light. A little nervous, but still really light and responsive. I was messing around with my phone, trying to take more pictures of Jay riding on the beach, and wasn't really paying attention to my riding. Remember me mentioning that the guides in Italy kept yelling at me (us, the other riders, too) to put my phone away? I should have brought that rule along with me to Costa Rica.

Headed back to the trees.

See those worried ears? I should have paid
attention. That was clue #2.

I felt her get a little jiggy, and dropped my phone (it was in a waterproof pouch on a lanyard) back down to my chest to reach for the rein with my other hand to settle her, but I was too late. She caught sight of a cluster of flat rocks that the surf exposed and up she went. I can sit a rear, and have done it plenty of times. The rear and spin? Yeah, I'm no good at sitting that. I was suspended in the air like Wile E. Coyote for half a second while she spun right out from under me, then I met the beach.

Other than just a couple of scrapes and being mad at myself for not paying better attention to a horse that clearly wasn't in the mood for rain and the beach, I was fine. The wranglers were amazing! One caught my mare, who only retreated up the beach away from the water, and the other checked me over. 

They were so upset that I'd come off, but not at me. I'd been told, when I first started taking out rides, that most of the time, if a rider comes off, it's the wrangler's fault for not seeing the problem develop and fixing it. I get the feeling these guys got the same lesson. I assured them it was completely my fault for not paying attention to my mare and that I was fine. They gave me a really good once over, checking for injuries and concussion, before deciding I was fit enough to get back on a horse. Their licensure obviously covered basic first aid, in addition to all of the other stuff they had to learn. They wanted me to switch with them, and ride one of their horses, but I insisted on getting back on the mare. She was calm enough, and allowed me to mount without a problem. 

As we headed back to the trail, there was a small stream that was running fast from the rain, and she started to get nervous. While I was confident I could work her over the stream without any big issues (or coming off again), the wranglers were still pretty upset about me coming off, and asked me to switch horses again. I relented and switched with them. 

You can learn a lot about a person's horsemanship by watching them when things don't go according to plan. Let me tell you, these guys were amazing with her. When she was caught after I came off, instead of being angry and correcting her, he soothed her and made sure she wasn't injured. When I switched horses at the stream, the lead wrangler worked her calmly until she was willing to cross. Never once did he lose his temper or get impatient with her. It only took her a couple of false starts to cross and we were on our way.

Despite my fall, and maybe because of it, this is still my all-time favorite ride. 

Still all smiles, but with a great story to go home with!

I never ride in shorts, but since that's all we had with us, that's what we rode in. Jeans might have saved the back of my knee from the tiny little scratches it got, but riding in wet jeans is a whole level of hell I don't like to visit.

I knew this was going to develop like a polaroid, so I took
daily pictures.

Baby little scrapes from the saddle. I promptly forgot about them.

Because our experience at The Monkey Farm was so amazing, and I fell in love with their mission, I made the everyone go back for a farm tour at the end of the week. It gave me a chance to check in with the wranglers, and assure them I was still fine, as well as getting to see the rest of the farm's operation.

It was good to get to laugh with them again.

Riding in Italy (9/24/22)

Jay and I love to travel. A desire to travel was one of the things that we bonded over when we first met. We'd always planned on traveling internationally, but just couldn't swing it until a few years ago. We have a couple of rules when planning a trip: 

1) We can only go to places that one or the other of us hasn't been. For example, we've both been to Rome, so that's off the table. He'd been to Fussen, Germany, but I hadn't, so we could go there.

2) I get to plan a horseback riding trip.

Now, whether or not I choose to plan a ride, is up to me, but if I want to ride, we have to go. We went to Cancun last year, and I didn't have any desire to ride there, so he was off the hook for that trip.

When we started planning our trip to Germany/Italy, I started looking into rides we could do in Tuscany, and Trip Advisor helped me find a horseback riding and wine tasting tour. It was an amazing day. 

Tenuta Torciano

The ride was not through the winery that hosted the wine tasting, but through a livery about 15 minutes away. We met at the winery, where we picked up the shuttle to the livery for our ride. I'm rather terrified of Italian drivers, after a scary experience I had in Rome on my first trip to Italy. This shuttle ride further solidified that I don't like riding in vehicles driven by Italian drivers. It wasn't quite as terrifying as in Rome, but that's because the traffic wasn't as bad as in the city. It was still plenty scary.

This particular stable was primarily a lesson stable that also lead trail rides. The horses were skinny by American standards, but still very healthy. I don't know that fly spray is as prevalent there as it is here, so there was a lot of stomping, and I learned the word for fly, "mosca". Yay for learning Italian words "in the wild".

I'm not very often on the side of "guest" with trail rides, so it made me smile to see the wranglers getting everyone ready for their ride. It appears that the process is the same no matter where in the world you are. Tighten the cinch, mount up the rider, check the stirrups, brief steering directions, and you're off!

Jay getting mounted up.

They paired Jay and I with essentially the same horses we have at home. For Jay, a hungry sorrel gelding, and for me, a cranky dark bay mare.

Other than being perpetually hungry and stomping at mosche (flies), Jay's horse was perfect for him. My mare was cranky and didn't tolerate horses invading her space, she kicked at a couple of horses who got too close and gave a baby rear over something that now escapes my memory.

The ride took us through open fields, beautiful trees, and alongside grape vines. I have very few pictures, and Jay took none, because I kept getting yelled at for having my phone out. They were serious about paying attention to the ride and not my phone, so the few pictures I have are ninja pics. Typically, I'm a strict rule follower, but I needed some pictures for our photo album (which we still haven't completed).

There was one spot along the trail that the wranglers stopped and took pictures of everyone in our group, which was nice. I tried to line up my mare next to Jay's horse for a nice picture, but remember the whole "cranky and doesn't like other horses" thing? This is the best photo we managed.

No way, no how was she going to line up nicely.

I thought Skeets was put together kind of funny, but this mare, well, she'll never win any conformation awards.

The ride was just right, at about an hour, then we held on for dear life in the shuttle back to the winery for our wine tasting.

If you are ever in Tuscany, and have the means, I highly recommend taking a tour like this one. Yes, it was a typical nose-to-tail trail ride, but I'm fine with those types of rides on horses I know nothing about, and it was the perfect way to spend the day seeing the area around the winery.

Figuring Out Skeeter

A few weeks ago, I wrote about our less-than-stellar ride in which Skeeter caused Alloy to dump Beel.

With Beel being sidelined, Mom and I planned on doing a lot of work with Skeeter on my next trip up the mountain (8/19/19). We've tried everything in my tool box to get her moving once she gets stuck, so the next thing we had (besides spurs or a crop) was to wait her out, and wait for her to get bored if nothing else worked.

She was a rock star getting tacked up, but getting that right front boot on was an issue. I'd run my hand down her leg and tell her "foot" and she'd bump me on the butt with her nose. It's a dance we've been doing forever. I off-hand mentioned to Mom that I wondered if something hurts, because Skeets does a lot to avoid picking up her foot. She backs up, leans her weight on me, shifts away, you name it. When we started thinking about it, that's the foot she always gives the farrier problems with. She reared up to get away from Mom's farrier, and tried to do the same with mine. She'll pull back and sit her ass on the ground before giving up her foot some times. Why it took us so long to think of pain rather than her just being a mare is beyond me.

It just so happened that as I'm wondering aloud about pain that Mom was looking at Skeeter. When I asked Skeets to pick up her foot, Mom noticed that her whole face went tight and agreed that maybe it hurt. Usually, when she refuses to pick up that foot, I send her out on a circle for a few laps and then she gives her hoof easily. This time, though, I decided to massage her shoulder to see if I could get it to loosen up. I am not a massage therapist by any means, but since Queen Estes had some arthritis issues in her shoulders, I had a general idea of what/where to massage. I spent just a couple of minutes digging my fists into her shoulder, massaging areas that felt tight. When I felt her relax, I asked for her foot again and she lifted it without a problem.

After we got her boot on, it was time to head out on the ride. We made it out of the parking lot, headed up toward the Post Office and she stalled out. Mom and I had swapped reins, so I was back to 9' reins. After I'd exhausted all other options, I popped her on the ass with the end of the rein. That earned me a cow kick, but we started moving again. She moved out, but I was very conscious of her speed and drove her forward with my hips. I've never had to push a horse with my hips, but the whole "shoulders of a queen, hips of a whore" thing came to mind. I'm used to pointing a horse in the right direction and having them go, so having to drive her forward with my hips quickly got tiring.

I'd just started to relax when we crested a hill and a dog started barking at us. We couldn't see the dog, who was fenced behind a tall privacy fence. Skeeter didn't spook, but did stop to look at the dog and give it the stink eye. But ... we stopped. Ugh. I finally got her moving when a car came along. We stepped off the road onto the grass and she moved a bit for me until we had to cross a driveway, then it was back to emptying the tool box to get her moving. After I'd asked a few times, I lifted the end of the rein to pop her butt, and she lifted a rear foot to cow kick again, like "really, Mom, we're going to do this?" I wiggled the rein, she sighed and moved on. Thought she could psych me out, but it didn't work.

I could keep her moving if I allowed her to walk up on the grass, off of the road, and I continued to drive her with my hips. Once we'd descended the hill and turned on Ski Road, she decided she could go and didn't hesitate the rest of the ride. We even trotted for a bit without an argument.

As we got nearer the lodge, I could feel her get antsy to get home, so Mom and I took an indirect route home, turning her away from the lodge and making her go around the block instead of riding right up to the hitch rail. When she stopped at the turn, I knew it was a baby temper tantrum, nothing else, and just lifted the end of the rein.

Overall, the ride went well. She's gotten used to me getting off and walking when we're out with Bill and Alloy, but I refused to do that for this ride. Mom and I discussed that maybe it's her shoulder that's causing her to stop, and I was pretty sure that it was her shoulder.

Mom and Bill each took turns taking her out for the next week, and agree that there's something going on with her right shoulder that's causing her to stop. She'll stop, rest, shift her weight back and forth, and then move one when she's comfortable again. Once she's warmed up, she'll go and go, but until then, she's pretty uncomfortable.

Skeeter's a really good horse, she truly is. We've had (and will continue to have) our fair share of disagreements, but she's just a great horse with an amazing heart.

Now that we know she's not just being a mare, that there is something going on with her, Mom and Bill brought her home to me yesterday. My neighbor has a chiropractor that works on her school horses every month, so I've put Skeeter on her schedule for the next time she's out. Hopefully the chiropractor can figure it out and get her feeling better. If not, I'll schedule our vet to come take a look at her.

I'm pretty sad that our mountain riding season ended earlier than I wanted it to, but Miss Skeeter needs to get her shoulder fixed. Until we're riding again, she's getting to go on walks with me, just like her brother. She's not super excited about the walks, but he wasn't either when we first started. Now he asks to go.

Not All Rides Can Be Amazing

Thursday's ride was good. Not spectacular, no big problems, but just kind of "meh". It's completely my fault, I chose a bad route. I thought it would be great to go to the Allenspark Trail head and do a short bit of it. The problem was that I forgot that I hate the road to get there. There's nothing wrong with the road, but it's just a road. It's a long, slow uphill for a mile and a half. There's really nothing to look at, nothing exciting. Just a long dirt road. It didn't take me long to remember why I preferred to trailer up to the trail head.

Long, boring road

We ambled along on this long, slow uphill. Alloy, as usual, was ready to go. Washoe was game. Skeeter, well, she was not enthused and dragged her feet for about a mile.

Alloy: "Let's go, let's go, let's go!"

Washoe: "Dude, okay!"

Skeeter: "Eff you, Alloy!"

Then she decided she was done and came to a stop. I thought we'd gotten past the whole "stop when I don't want to" business, but I guess not. She had boots on, so I know it had nothing to do with her tender feetsies. She just was tired and didn't wanna. I could actually sympathize, because my enthusiasm for the ride quickly waned as well, but she couldn't "win" by just stopping.

So ... I dismounted, circled her a bit, and walked along side her for a quarter of a mile or so. Hill work is good for both of our butts, but that doesn't mean I like it, so once I was winded (easy to do at over 8,000 feet), I mounted back up.

From the ground.

Without a mounting rock.

Just me, from the ground.

Okay, so I maybe mounted from the uphill side, but I still mounted from the ground. Skeeter's a task master, though. Mounting from the ground wasn't quite good enough, she wanted me to do it without a bounce (or two). Sorry to say, she did not get her way. If I have to put my foot halfway to my armpit to mount, I get a couple free bounces.

We rode another quarter mile or so before we turned back home. We never did make it to the Allenspark Trail head, but we did cover about 2.5 miles round trip.

Since we had to pass the Post Office on the way back to the lodge, Bill decided to check the mail. He tied Alloy to the porch railing and then proceeded to go inside while Mom and I waited on our horses outside. The tourists across the street at Distant Harbors gift shop loved it!

Alloy: "Ok, I guess I'l just wait here then."

A Misadventure-free Ride(ish)

I was sure today was going to be one hell of a hot mess. I completely overslept, so I quickly threw on some clothes and jumped into the car. Halfway up the hill, I realized I'd left my cameras and my spare set of reins. I was afraid that didn't bode well for the ride.

When we got to the lodge, Mom told me that Skeeter was on her shit list. Skeeter is super pushy on the ground, which I hate, and it's an ongoing fight with her. I'm thinking that she's so pushy on the ground, because Karma heard me complain that I would never tolerate a pushy horse. You know how a childless adult bitching about misbehaving kids, ends up with feral children and are forced to eat their words? Yeah, it's *exactly* like that.

Ugh. Not a great start and we hadn't even pulled the horses.

Skeets was a rock star while getting all tacked up, though Alloy was being twitchy and a bit of a spaz. He threatened to blow up several times while getting tacked up. At one point, I mentioned that I hoped that oversleeping and forgetting stuff was all of the misadventure we'd have. Then Beel spoke up and said that is was probably his turn for a "misadventure" (read: fall, since Mom and I had each hit the ground). I told him that we don't take turns. I know that's against everything we learned in kindergarten, but when it comes to horse misadventures, we don't take turns!

Mom and I both had passing thoughts of booting Skeeter, but since we were just riding in town, I passed on fighting over the boots. The ride started out better than any we've had this year - even though Alloy was kind of being an idiot during the tacking up phase, as soon as Bill mounted up and started moving his feet, he settled right down.

Because of last week's fiasco, we planned a short, successful ride in town. It was all going well until about half a mile out, when Skeeter just stopped. She just refused to take one more step on the gravely, pokey road. I pointed her to the grassy area along the side of the road and she stepped right up and we moved along nicely until we had to step back down on the road to cross a driveway. She stepped down, took two steps and stopped, which confirmed my suspicion that her feetsies were still tender. I mentally cursed myself for not putting boots on her, then stepped down.

Thanks to my mapmyrun app, I know that when we're riding, we average between 24 and 25 minutes a mile, but I also know that when Copper and I are walking, we average between 19 and 20 minutes a mile. I wasn't going to let her meander along at a 24 minute per mile pace, so I kept her moving along faster than she wanted. She might have gotten out of carrying me, but she wasn't getting out of working. For a mare that is usually very difficult to lead because of her pushiness, I had to do a surprising amount of driving and dragging her along. There's a reason she hasn't graduated from the 15' lead rope to a more manageable length one.

Mom and Bill happily rode along behind us while I dragged Skeeter a long. At one point, after having to drive her to speed her up, I looked back and she had the best eff you and eff this look on her face. I couldn't help but laugh at her. She thought she was going to get to go home once I dismounted, but the joke was on her.

You know the problem with forcing your horse to walk with you at a 19-ish minute mile? You also have to walk at that pace, so maybe the joke was on me. I know exactly how slow my walking pace is, but I figured I was making her move a good bit faster than her riding speed.

Ski Road meets up with Business Hwy 7, which is paved, so I mounted up again there and we rode happily back to the lodge.

We're calling today's ride a huge win. No one came off their horse, and though I walked, I chose to, plus she still had to carry me about half of the ride. Next week, the boots are going back on. I think we'll probably stay in town, just to see how she's doing, but by August we should be back up on the mountain.

You're welcome for the fancy artwork :)