Where the Wildflowers Grow

Drifts of beautiful, blue Flax [Linum] greeted us along our pathway.

Have trailer, will travel! It's my mantra for this summer. Horse trailer, that is.

Wild Geraniums dot the meadow. The majority are white and pale pink. But, 

I love the sassy fuchsia ones best of all.

Sonny, Sable, Jack & Katie  ~ those are horses ~ have been taking Janet, Beth, Bob & I ~ we're the humans ~ on some spectacular wildflower rides.

It's called 'bushwacking' ~ when we ride beyond the hiking trails, meandering through the wilderness in search of rare flowers and picnic spots.

How are you with your pets?

Are you strict, firm? Lenient, caring?

I suppose there is no right answer to that question.

Sometimes it depends on the animal. For instance, my 9 month old puppy is huge, now, (50 pounds!) and hell on wheels.

I'm tough on him because I'm mortified when he jumps on someone and knocks them down.

My other pet, horse Sable, is 1000+ pounds. But, I'm a whole lot nicer to her. Because she's well-behaved.

Here's me being all tough and stuff with my horse, Sable. 

I can't stand people who are cruel to animals.  And, I meet a lot of 'horse people' who behave that way.

They feel they need to be harsh with their horses in order "to show them who's boss." I have a hard time dealing with that sort of stuff.

Discovered a field of Splitleaf Paintbrush along the trail. And, no! 

I'm not gonna tell you where it is. :) That's our little secret...

So, anyhoo... I made the foolish mistake of joining Backcountry Horsemen.

That's why my head is filled with horses and wildflowers instead of pesky weeds and not so neatly tended gardens.

Up close and personal ~ with a Penstemon.

Our first group ride was long and steep, horribly rocky and pretty much a misery all day long.

Behold! A Shooting Star! First time I've ever seen one in the wild...

Me, being the loudmouth of the group, I kept harping on our 'leaders' to stop and allow the horses to take a rest.

They were exhausted and who could blame them? It was a relentless uphill climb that went on for hours.

These last few Wildflowers are called: I don't know.

It's different up here, in the mountains.

We don't have gently rolling hills. You're climbing or descending, all day long. If you love your horse, you give them a break.

Why wouldn't you want to linger? When you're surrounded by such beauty...

Finally! Our fearless leader listened and gave us a brief rest.

"Let's get a move on," barks the Jackass, 5 minutes later. To be clear, there were no donkeys on this ride. That's my new pet name for the jerk of a horseman leading our group.

A short time later, his horse collapsed. The Jackass was injured. Nicer riders than me hopped off their horses to help him. Worried about the man while I was worrying about the horse.

Oh, my gosh!!! I didn't want to help him. I wanted to rescue his unhappy horse and leave him in the wilderness to fend for himself. Serves him right! I was so furious!

Fortunately, for me, I have friends who are the voice of reason. Handling things ever so politely.

Standing between me and the Jackass and telling me to shut up.

And, I did! Or, at least I quieted down to a whisper. One only the Jackass could hear.

"I hope that arm of yours is broken," I whispered to him as we trotted on by.

May the bridges I burn light the way... 

- Kate


* A Jackass is a male donkey. Males are Jacks and females are Jennys. But, of course, Jackass is used to describe a few other types of males, as well.


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