15 August 2010

Ride, Drive and Barbecue

No it's not a recipe. (I worry sometimes.)

Today the Fell Pony Society held a Ride, Drive and Barbecue at Murton, which is a tiny village on the East Fellside, under the slopes of the northern Pennines. Ruby and I set off early, leaving Mr T chomping the sweet grass in the field (and quite happy for his best girlfriend to let him deal with it all by himself.) We trundled steadily in the horesbox through Orton and Appleby (yes, the gipsy Fair Appleby) and along narrow lanes to our destination, where the grass, as Ruby saw to her amazement, was eight inches high and begging to be eaten.

I let her have a few minutes of grazing before I harnessed her up. My passenger for the day was the FPS secretary, Elizabeth. Once she had found us, we yoked up Ruby, put on our helmets and hi viz gear and turned on the bike lights on the carriage; and then we got up and went for a wander round the field, adjusting the seat for balance so we'd have a comfortable drive.

All the riders were mounting, and one or two ponies spooked at the 3 carriages, so I kept Ruby out on her own until I saw the drive leader, Mr Howe, setting off down the track to the gate with his stallion Jake. Knowing that we wouldn't get any more warning, I sent Ruby off after him... and it's just as well, because Howie wasn't checking that he had all of us with him before he sent Jake off at a trot. We never saw the other carriage again until we got back to the field 2 hours later!

To start with, Ruby was excited, mostly by the sound of the riders behind us, rattling down the track as they set off on their 6 mile ride. She reckoned that there must be a lioness somewhere about, and if that was the case she wanted to out trot Jake so the lioness would eat him and not her. She kept creeping out into the middle of the road to overtake, and I kept putting her back, as although I know the area, I didn't know where the drive was supposed to be going! I learned later that on last year's route the 20-odd riders and 4 drivers had been all mixed up together and "it got a bit exciting" especially as "Howie had set off at a trot from the word go and never once looked back." Hence the riders going a different way from the drivers this year!

The drivers' route led from Murton to its sister village, Hilton, and round by Appleby Golf Course (the public road goes across it). Here Ruby was a bit worried by the golfers and their strange rattling equipment. I don't think she knew anything about the speed of golf balls, but luckily nothing struck us and we trotted on down to the gate at the other end, and onto the "back road" which crosses the main Appleby to Brough road, the A66. Ruby is well acquainted with road bridges with wire sides, so she wasn't at all bothered by the traffic hurtling along beneath us. At the next junction we had to wait, to get out onto the road, for a gap in a parade of very shiny veteran and vintage tractors, all having a day out in the sunshine. I mentioned to Elizabeth that it was nice to have Fell ponies who are unbothered by traffic. She replied that her two would have been in the next field by now! They are Ruby's half sisters, so that's just got to be down to lack of exposure to the big bad world, as neither of them are Nervous Nellies, and Vicky, in particular, shares Ruby's inquisitive and clever nature as well as her tilted eyes and wicked, turned-in ears.

The road into Appleby carried quite a lot of fast traffic, but both ponies were rock steady as cars whizzed by (and most of them were very sensible about passing the horses). Encouraged by this, when Howie asked (yes he did ask!) over his shoulder, whether we wanted to take the first road back to Murton, or go on through Appleby, I said at once, "Oh let's go through the town, and make a bit of a statement!" So we trotted down Bongate, and along the Sands next to the river, where in June the gipsy horses are washed and swum, and then up the long straight hill of Battlebarrow. Jake was flagging by then and halfway up he dropped to a walk, which quite miffed Madam Ruby who was sure she could have trotted all the way to the top. But with traffic behind and oncoming, there was no way to overtake him so she could prove it!

Out of the town, Howie led us onto roads that I knew, past Fair Hill (peacefully grazed by sheep) and onto the road back to Murton. Jake by now was giving clear signs that he'd had enough, so as I knew the way back to the field, I offered to put Ruby into the lead. With Ruby trotting cheerfully out in front of him, Jake decided perhaps this new woman in his life *might* just be worth the effort of pursuit!

There were more vintage vehicles at Appleby Manor Hotel, where there was a car rally (Morgans, perhaps? I didn't manage to catch sight of a radiator badge to check) but after that we had the roads to ourselves again, with the high green slopes of the Pennines basking in sunshine on one side of us, and the Eden Valley on the other, blue with misty haze.

Ruby brought us home to the horsebox field in good style, and I washed her off with a towel soaked in cold water. She was sweaty but not blowing hard, didn't want a drink when it was offered, and was soon tucking into the luscious grass once more, while I wiped down the harness and put it back into the horsebox. The riders were all home already, but they had only done 6 miles, while my GPS told me we had done 9 and a half!

Gwendy, the third of our drivers, arrived back last of all. She had been shepherded by Elizabeth's husband in his car with its hazard lights on, so she had gone round a route that was a kind of consultation exercise, stopping to discuss directions at each road junction. Since Elizabeth had told me he has NO sense of direction, this must have been entertaining, but they'd got back all right!

Gwendy had come "on the hoof" to the venue, so she asked if she could tie the pony, Heather, to the opposite side of our horsebox from Ruby. We are former work colleagues so of course I said yes! We loaded my carriage into the horsebox, saw to the ponies, made sure they were securely tied but could reach grass and water, then left them to graze while we joined in the barbecue in the next field.

Lovely food and superb chutney and salads to go with it... enough said!

When I got back, Ruby had stuffed her face with grass, leaving the usual "Fell pony trademark" of a nearly bare half circle beside the horsebox. She really wasn't bothered about having any of the feed she usually expects on getting back IN to the horsebox, but being a good natured mare she clomped in and settled while I helped Gwendy re-harness and re-hitch Heather, to go 2 miles down the road to stay overnight with friends before going home on Monday.

I adjusted Heather's breast collar so it was above her shoulder and not below, and put the reins through the terrets on neckstrap and saddle - "Oh," said Alice, Gwendy's groom (who owns Heather) - "Do the reins go through both sets of those?" I assured her they did... When Gwendy had put-to, I slackened the backband so it could slide freely, checked the breeching (which was right), and then lowered the breast collar again by one hole so it made a better line to the trace hooks. Gwendy then proposed to long rein Heather IN her carriage down the slope to the gate, so I said, very kindly but clearly, "PLEASE get in the carriage and drive from the seat..." explaining that it only took a mis-step for a shaft to knock you over and then the horse, and the carriage, were loose. Admittedly, Heather is a stolid mare, steady in harness in an open bridle, and she was quite worn out by her long day ... but safe practice is still better observed, even at the end of a long day. And Gwendy, bless her, saw the point.

Ruby travelled well in the box on the way home. She started whinnying as we got within sniffing distance of home. Mr T shouted at her when we got into the yard, and soon they were touching noses and discussing the deeds of the day... while I mucked out and unloaded the horsebox.

Must go and give them their evening hay now... and hope that at SOME point we get a load of hay to see them through the winter.