Humpbacked Whale? Not So Much.

This afternoon, I took Pai down to our cottage so that she could think about having a swim. I used to swim with my Fred horse back in, what, 1987? I thought Pai might enjoy it, but, despite being a pretty phlegmatic and placid horse, she apparently thinks the water is frought with monsters. These monsters live at about the depth of her fetlocks or perhaps canon bones, and they nibble on her when she is in the water, so that she must perform her genetically-programmed Lipizzan airs above the ground in order to escape their clutches. Which is a very… dramatic thing to happen when you are leading a horse in your bare feet (yeah, yeah, I know. Bare feet).

I have a big bad bruise on my ankle courtesy of the poor delicate flower, who leaped into the monster-free safety zone that apparently exists in a six-inch perimeter around me, demonstrating very clearly that I really have to review my-space, your-space training basics with my horsie.

She let me know that boat wakes are also the devil. They. Will. Kill. Horses.

“Paikea” is the Maori word for humpback whale. You’d think she’d be better at this.

My cousin Andrew let us ride along on “Landing Day”, the final day of the lobster fishing season. He and his crew were nice enough to let me try my hand at fishing. Musta been the beer.

Chicas – quiero mostrarles mis fotos de “Landing Day”, el ultimo día de la temporada de langosta. Mi primo es un pescador de langostas, y Wayde y yo estabamos en el barco hoy cuando mi primo y sus amigos montaban las trampas.  “Landing Day” es casi una fiesta (¿casi? no – ¡es una fiesta verdadera!) – los pescadores comienzan a beber cervezas a las tres de la mañana, cuando salen del muelle, y continuan todo el día. Todos están de buen humor.  Quizas es gracias a las cervezas que los chicos me dejan “ayudar”, pero creo que es porque son todos muy agradables. Me dieran overoles de caucho, y guantes también, y me pusan a trabajar.  Creo que estaba en el camino más que les ayudé, ¡pero tuve un día estupendo!

“Ayudando” en Landing Day

Utilizando el arpón

Barco con trampas.

Puerto Malpeque.

Trabajando duro.

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Ski Trails and Heritage Roads

PEI has an alpine ski hill. With three lifts. Who knew?

On the advice of a fellow rider, I hauled over to the Brookvale Provincial Ski Park. Despite my smug image of myself as a Person With a Fantastic Sense of Direction, I managed to completely misplace myself in the nordic ski park while I was searching for the service road that would lead me to McKenna Rd and the loop I was intending to ride.  A phone with Google Maps and a GPS is a very good piece of technology to have.

Getting lost is often not a bad thing at all, and today was no exception. For the first time in all the forty-some years that I have been coming here, I found Lady Slippers.

Our ride wound through spruce and tamarack woods, and deciduous woods with great big birch trees; through meadows and over brooks and past ponds; along red clay Heritage roads with trees creating a tunnel overhead; past lupins and wild roses in the ditches; along the crests of hills that overlooked rolling PEI farmland.

Ride pics:

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I Have a Pink Horse

She’s pink because she’s a grey horse (my least favourite colour, remember?), and instead of getting green grass stains, here on PEI, she’s getting red mud stains. The white part of her mane was well and truly pink the other day when I went out to put her in for the night. Judging by how long it takes for PEI clay stains to fade on my clothing, I’m thinking she will be entirely pink soon if this wet weather doesn’t let up.

Pai is happily settled in her horse house on the point, living in the stall my Fred horse lived in twenty-five years ago. When fatty-pants is out in her wee little limited-grass paddock, I can see her from here at the cottage.

The MacKay house on the point

Yet another Room With a View

There used to be a training track for Standardbreds just behind the house, where I used to jog Fred when I was a teenager and was something like his groom; it’s gone now, but the perimeter of the hayfield where the track used to be makes a great place to go for a gallop.

What with fencing and re-fencing, and the changeable weather (yesterday: gorgeous, warm and sunny; today: raging wind, whitecaps on the water, driving rain), our rides have been limited to little jaunts along the shore.

I was taken aback when my plans to ride on the Confederation Trail – part of the Trans Canada Trail – were foiled by the trail’s ban on horses. For years before there was an official trail, equestrians would use the old rail bed for riding, but once the trail became a managed entity, the horses were turfed (scroll down to “A Trail Tragedy in PEI”). Safety and liability concerns are cited by government officials and tourism officers – apparently, PEI horses are waaaaay more dangerous than horses elsewhere in Canada. More dangerous than snowmobiles, even. Who knew. Even though committees give me hives, I think I need to join one of the local equine protest groups to engage in some serious agitating.

So I’ve been hunting for other trails to ride, and am hoping to explore some of them in the next few days. We’ll see what I find.

 

 

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