I learned the secret to the universe!!

Yes, it's true! On Saturday this, the greatest of realizations, was bestowed upon me by the wise, all knowing riders of the Waubonsie Saddle Club from Sidney, Iowa.

Let me start from the beginning.

Saturday morning, Julie and I trekked down I-29 to lovely Sidney, located just north of the border between Iowa and Missouri. She brought her dependable and gorgeous Vivian and I had my beloved and beautiful (but sometimes bratty) Spotted Boy Wonder. We planned on camping overnight, so after turning the ponies out to graze for a bit and stretch their legs in the corrals of the Fremont County Fairgrounds, Julie pulled out her truck tent. Between talking to other riders and setting up tent, we lost track of the time, and before we knew it we had only a half an hour to get the ponies ready!

I collected the kids and tied them to the trailer so we could groom and tack them. I had Zeplin in his normal rope halter and thought nothing of this. I have yet to ride him in a bit, and both of us are just fine with that arrangement. Bits are for refining communication but should not be necessary for controlling your loving equine. My training goal for Zeplin is to put him in a simple snaffle when we are ready to work on collection. Until then, we are happy in the halter with reins clipped to the loop under his jaw.

Zeplin was understandably nervous, having never been around such a large crowd of horses. There were probably about 30 riders altogether, a sizeable group but not overwhelming for my young, inexperienced gelding. He pranced a little but allowed me to mount without issues. We were the only ones using English tack (Julie had opted to bring her Circle Y trail saddle to use on Vivian). I had the only Ay-rab of the group, as well. He wasn't the youngest, though, as some lady was riding a 2.5 year old paint filly.

The ride started out through a muddy lot next to the corrals and some pens for 4H show cattle. Zeplin felt tense, unsure of himself amidst the array of strange horses and humans. I soothed him with my voice and patted his neck, bending him in both directions to help occupy his mind and ease his nerves. He whinnied repeatedly, still confused and worried about the crowd. We crossed a highway and headed up a gravel drive to a large pasture filled with Angus cows and their young calves.

At the top of a hill in the pasture the ride leader halted, presumably to wait for trailing members of the group. Zeplin had settled some, and I allowed him to graze a little to help him relax. While we waited, I fielded a few questions about my sweet spotted boy. This was the first time someone made note aloud about Zep's lack of a bridle. I heard one lady advise her riding companion to "steer clear" of my boy since he wasn't in a bit. Umm.... ok... So far the only things Zeplin had done were a result of lack of experience (whinnying, jigging a little, but nothing at all out of control).

After our brief hiatus, we continued down a gentle hill in the pasture and through another gate into another section, this one wooded. Zeplin and I are not used to hills, as the area around my house is table-top flat. I knew it would be an adjustment for him, and I was determined to help him out the best I could. The most difficult part was going down the hills, as he tried to balance both me and himself without falling flat on his face.

As we continued, Zep settled down more and enjoyed looking around at the scenary. Vivian nickered deeply at him anytime she lost sight of him briefly. Julie chatted amicably with the lady behind her. Zeplin didn't like having Vivi behind him, so I tried to keep him in front of her but not too close to the generous rear of the big Quarter Horse ahead. He became better and better at picking his way through the trees and down the slopes (although at one point we did get a vine wrapped around us because I steered him to the side to avoid running into the aforementioned QH gelding on a downslope). I mentioned to the lady on that QH about how all the logs on the path would force Zeplin to pay attention to where he placed his feet so that he wouldn't trip. "He tends to gawk around him instead of looking where he is going, so he sometimes trips," I told her, laughing.

"Have you tried a bit?" was her sage response. I was dumbfounded. What does using a bit have to do with getting my boy to be more aware of his feet.

"I plan on working more with cavaletti," I replied, still bemused at her remark.

It certainly was a lovely day for a ride. In the protected hills with the bright sun shining down on us and the clouds floating overhead, the hellish winter seemed to have occurred ages ago. Zeplin enjoyed himself immensely, walking forward with eagerness and pointing those curious ears ahead. Anytime we paused, I allowed him to grab some grass while I visited with other people. Vivian wanted to be attached at the hip to her pretty little boyfriend.

At about the two and a half hour mark, I could tell my sweet boy was feeling fatigued, although he gamely continued. We were headed down a slightly steep decline and back towards the main pasture from whence the ride started. "This is the last large hill, isn't it?" I asked Julie, relieved that we would be returning because my boy was tired, but sad to have the experience end as well.

"It should be," Julie answered. At the bottom of the hill flowed a small rivelet through a ditch.  The group in front of us headed southeast from that point, and I thought it odd that we were not heading closer to the starting point. My worries grew even more when we rejoined a portion of the path on which we had already traversed and turned west again.

"We are looping around again?" I wondered, confused. I panicked a little, knowing my young boy was near the end of his endurance for now. I didn't want to push him beyond his limits and destroy the pleasure he felt in going out on excursions with me.

Julie cursed a little, noting that we were climbing back up a hill we had already covered. "Let's stop at the top to rest and let most of the group pass," she said. We allowed our tired mounts to graze while other riders continued on, oblivious to the condition of their own mounts. Zeplin was sweaty but still willing to do anything I asked of him.

At the crest of the hill, we slowly followed the others, still feeling frustrated and upset that we weren't headed back by now. Vivian, out of condition like Zeplin, showed her own signs of fatigue. "Look, that group looks like it's going back," Julie said suddenly, pointing to four horses and their riders who had split from the rest behind us and were headed back towards that hill we had just descended a short time ago. "Should we go with them?"

I heard someone mention in passing that the group was looking for a lost cell phone, but it was better to try our luck with them than to push our mounts anymore than we had already.

"Let's hurry so we don't lose sight of them," Julie said, pushing Vivi into a trot. Zeplin jounced along behind her. I didn't like rushing so much, but we didn't want to be left behind, either. We reached the top of the hill, and I called to Julie to slow down. Zeplin stopped, and I considered dismounting and leading him down. I could tell he really didn't have a lot of energy to tackle the downgrade. His very hesitance spoke volumes, as my boy rarely needs any kind of urging to move forward. I squeezed him lightly, asking him to try for me.

I tried to pick out the easiest route down the slope that I could find. The group on the bottom had spotted us and was patiently waiting for us to join them. Zeplin started down, but he would find himself unable to slow down, and he'd try to turn around to go back up. In stages we worked our way down, although towards the end he was speeding up and felt like he couldn't stop. He teetered on the edge of the ditch we had passed earlier with a trickle of water, but he managed to pull himself up. I landed on his neck but didn't fall off (although the sunglasses I had borrowed from Julie that were too large slipped off and landed on the ground). We were both relieved to be at the bottom of that hill, and I knew I couldn't ask that of him again on this ride. I'd get off before doing so.

After that, the going was much easier. Zeplin followed a man on his grey horse leading a buckskin paint that a boy was riding. The man cursed the paint mare, and at one point he dropped the lead rope. Julie offered to collect it for him.

The wooded area ended with a slight slope up a muddy incline to the main pasture gate. We rode through and found a lady there, sitting on a fallen tree and waiting with her horse. I'm not sure entirely what was going on, but I think that the rest of the group was supposed to have returned with us. At some point, the main ride leader had left, hence all the confusion. Zeplin and Vivian took the opportunity to graze and catch their second wind. Julie and I dismounted and let them eat.

In the course of discussing my boy with the man who had been riding ahead of me on the grey, he warned that I had better switch to a bit, hackamore, or bosal before I "ruined" Zeplin by riding in just a rope halter. "It would be a shame to ruin such a good minded, pretty horse," he commented.

While I took pride that he noticed Zeplin's stellar qualities, I was floored by this, the third time someone mentioned that I should not ride my gelding in just a halter. Nevermind that he was happy, forward, willing, and certainly well behaved. No, I was destroying him!

It was then that I realized these kind, insightful people had only been offering me the key to the universe: the BIT!! Why of course, that was the answer to EVERYTHING!! I was now enlightened, thanks to their diligent efforts to bring awareness to all the signs that I was training Zeplin wrong. Because of these people, I could now pinpoint all of these signs that I had been on the wrong track and was close to shattering the tenuous bond I had with my silly pony. I will list these warning signs now, so as to alert wary readers as to what to look for and set them straight by immediately switching to a bit so as to avert disaster:

1. Is your boy eagerly and willingly stepping out, needing only the slightest nudge (if that) to move forward?
2. Does your boy relax and walk on a loose rein, occasionally licking and chewing?
3. Does your boy listen and respond to your cues without a fuss?
4. Do you feel like you have a good, strong line of communication with him?
5. Is he well behaved and completely under control?
6. Does he work hard to try everything you ask of him, even when he's clearly tired?
7. Is he confident in your leadership and trusts you completely?

If your horse exhibits all of these symptoms listed, then you must put him in a bit without delay!! Otherwise, you risk crumbling his spirit and sending him plunging into despair! Oh, to think I nearly did this to my own beloved Zeplin. How can I live with myself and the cruelty I've inflicted by riding him in just a rope halter?

I have seen the error of my ways!! I will repent and use the BIT on Zeplin henceforth!

Or maybe not...

The rest of the evening, after having a lovely dinner provided by the saddle club, Julie and I shared our disbelief that so many people could be so set in their ways that they couldn't even realize that using a bit is not supposed to be about control. A bit is a tool of communication. If you don't have control established without the use of a bit, are you really in charge of your steed? Julie used to own a horse who would run through the bit. If a thousand pound animal decides he doesn't want to listen to you, is a piece of metal in his mouth really going to stop him? Training is the key to control, not a bit!

Anyways, Julie and I had a wonderful time camping out at the fairgrounds. No one else stayed the night, and we had to rush over to prevent the groundkeeper from locking us out of the restrooms. Zeplin and Vivian were best of buddies, enjoying each other's company in the small corral they shared.

Julie started a camp fire while I took my spotted boy over to meet a 4H calf tied to the rail a ways down the aisle from his corral. Zeplin had never seen a cow before this day. He followed me nervously, his eyes barely leaving the scary black monster. We approached and I held my hand out to the little heifer. She sniffed my hand and then licked at it. Zeplin stretched his neck out to smell her, but he didn't want to move any closer to the furry girl. Finally he stretched his muzzle to her nose... and that dark black tongue snaked out to lick him!!

Zeplin jumped back, eyes wide. "She tried to eat me!!!" he snorted, trying to spin around on the lead line and retreat. I wouldn't let him run away, but I didn't make him go any closer. I laughed at him, unable to help myself. He was so silly!

Vivian called Zeplin, pacing up and down the fenceline. We returned to her, and Zeplin happily entered the pen where his big girl could protect him from the crazy black beasts down the row.

In the morning, Julie hopped on vivian bareback while I saddled my boy. We rode them around the fairgrounds, noting that neither seemed sore from the previous day's exertion. I asked Zeplin to look at more cows, and he trembled but obeyed. We didn't come very close to them, but I would not let him wheel around and bolt or hurry away from them. I need to get him his very own calf, to help him overcome his fears ;-)

What an incredible weekend!! I'll be moving soon, so I have to enjoy these moments while I can. Thank you so much, Julie, for all that you've done for me and my ponies. We are going to miss you!