My first horse was a buckskin Quarter Horse gelding named Trouble. We bought him from my cousin in Simpsonville…a horse I’d known and had been riding for years whenever on family vacations at my cousin’s house. Soon after Trouble moved here, one of our neighbors, a cowboy named Jack Cudd, was often seen stopping on the side of the road whenever passing by, to speak to the new horse in the neighborhood. Soon, Jack’s neighborliness extended to the whole family, and before long, he was inviting me to ride in the kid’s rodeos he often held at his place.

Back then, most of our neighborhood was still rural farm land. I didn’t have a horse trailer so would ride my horse the couple of miles up to his place for the shows and rodeos. My mother was terrified of the idea of me riding up there alone so she made my dad follow close behind us in the car, though in those days, there was very little threat to my safety on that short ride. My dad understood my embarrassment at my mother’s over-protectiveness, so would park the car a ways up the road and give me time to get to the arena before he drove up as a spectator.

The events I rode Trouble in were barrel racing, pole bending, and western pleasure classes. We even won an egg & spoon race once. I remember that my times in the races were good, but I can’t remember how many actual wins I had. Riding at the C-C arena was never about winning for me, it was about having fun. I was proud of my horse…all sorts of cowboys were always trying to talk me into selling him to them…I would’ve sooner sold my mother than my horse. I just loved the opportunity to ride and show him off.

By far to this day, I remember the best part of running barrels and poles was that home run…that all-out mad dash or the finish line after rounding that last barrel. It’s all or nothing, wind and dirt in your face, then that lock-down stop where you’re never really sure if you’re going to go over the arena wall or not…and don’t really care as long as your time was respectable.

Jack Cudd and C-C rodeos and shows have been making memories for countless kids for at least a couple of family generations now…and STILL going strong. It was fun having the opportunity to record the making of some of those memories this past weekend.

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As usual, I was a late-comer…still trying to juggle a dozen things at one time on a Saturday morning. I FINALLY get there and get ready to shoot my first shot and realize I don’t have a CF card in the camera…they’re all at home sitting on top of my laptop. Thank GAWD I set my camera to NOT shoot withOUT a CF card. Otherwise, I might have spent all day in the rain and ended up with NOTHING at all to show for it.

Because of all my running around during the earliest part of the rodeo, I missed some of the best events and without a doubt, the best weather for shooting action shots with my slow lens. I’ve got a good range, good quality lens that zooms from 70-300mm, BUT, it’s a sloooow 4-5.6 aperture range…just 5.6 at 300mm. I haven’t gotten famous enough yet to justify an expenditure of $4,000+ for a FAST 300mm lens. I might have better luck holding out for that lottery win I’ve got coming my way.

Soooo, all that said, once the sky turned quite dark and drab and the rain started coming down, my film speed of 800, shutter speed of 500 (which was as high as I could go because I have a SLOOOOW lens) and f5.6 aperture just wasn’t cutting it for good stop-action shots. I can set my film speed anywhere from 100-3200 but the catch to that is noise from HELL, even with the noise reduction function turned on. I did somehow manage to get 1 or 2 reasonably acceptable action shots in the rain (though not quite sure how that happened). Truth is, it’s hard to tell if my slow lens was to blame, or whether SOME of the crappy shots might have been due the fact that I still get so excited about getting a shot at times, that I jerk the camera when I shoot…I’d rather just blame the lens.

Tomorrow is another day. Weather reports promise rain will be gone by the time the rodeo starts tomorrow. At least it won’t be DUSTY like it was today before the rain. (That’s right, I just CAN’T BE PLEASED!) The action shots I got BEFORE the rain looked like they were shot in a fog because of the dust. (As you might have noticed, the bad shot is NEVER my fault.)

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I Did Not Die

Do not stand at my grave and forever weep.
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn’s rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and forever cry.
I am not there. I did not die.

by Mary Elizabeth Frye nee Clark

Markiz was my grandson Kendall’s favorite of my 3 horses. He had personality PLUS. He was an Arabian gelding of Polish bloodlines, bred in Switzerland, foaled in New York state. He came to live with me at age 8. When my husband and I separated a few years later, I could not afford board for my mare and Markiz both at our separation, and since my ex expressed a desire to keep Markiz, we took him to board at farm in Greenville county while he fixed up his property for Markiz’s return. My ex ended up abandoning Markiz there at that farm, the owner of which managed to track down my whereabouts a couple of years later to see if I wanted him back because she could no longer afford to care for him since my husband had long since stopped paying for his board and care. Wilma and I went to Greenville a few days later to pick him up and I was able to enjoy him for several more years. He became a wonderful trail horse, I taught a couple of children to ride on Markiz, and many friends enjoyed riding him too. He had the personality of a lap dog, always playful with everyone and always flirty with pretty mares.

There are 2 words that strike terror in the heart of every horse owner: founder and colic. Founder is a condition that effects a horse’s hooves; colic effects the digestive system. The causes for both are many and varied…many horses survive, many more don’t. Me, my friends and family, my vet, and my farrier all fought valiantly for 3 months to try to save our beloved friend Markiz when he was stricken with founder on Labor Day of 2003. During his illness, I went to the barn every morning before work to clean and doctor his feet; came home for lunch every day to clean and doctor them again, to walk him and to make sure he drank something before I went back to work; again every evening when I got home from work, and again before going to bed around 11pm. I remember many a cold night walking with him in the arena in the moonlight, talking to him and singing to him as we walked. He really seemed comforted by that. One night we saw a shooting star that was so bright, it lit up the entire barn area like daylight before fading away. My wish of course, was for him to get well, but I was denied that wish.

I was not able to let Markiz go as long as he had fight in him, but in the end he was not able to overcome the devastating effects of that condition. When HE had given up, he let me know he was ready to rest, and I didn’t have the heart to force him to go on any further. We ended his suffering and laid him to rest on a cold winter day, December 21, 2003, in the cattle pasture of my good friends Wilma and Jack. 6 years later, remembering him, remembering that horrible 3 month nightmare, still makes me cry like a baby.

After his burial, Kendall and I took some flowers and laid them on his grave out there in Jack’s cow pasture, and we said our last goodbyes to our friend. It was almost as if Markiz was with us out there, assuring us that he was home and happy…that he wanted us to know he had loved us as we had loved him…to say thank you for trying so hard to restore his health, but that it was time now to say goodbye…time for him to go run and frolic with the horses of heaven. I created the portrait you see at the beginning of this post, in the days that followed our loss.

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Picture Title:

A spectator appears to be giving Bailey some advice (or perhaps commendations) on her performance at a schooling show at FENCE in Tryon, North Carolina. Bailey is a friendly warmblood mare owned by Georgie Arrigo of Tryon, NC.

(Click on the preview above to pull up a full view of the picture.)

My granddaughter, Keyana, brings one of my horses, Odessa, in from the pasture for the evening. At the time, my pasture was fenced off from the barnyard. We had a much lusher stand of grass then than now and my skinny mini mare, Odessa, was allowed more time on the grass than my fat appy mare, Sugar…we had to lead both back to the barn and barnyard each evening.

In reality, the background scene in the actual shot was our big ugly gas tank beside the house, a peek at Kendall’s lanky legs on the other side of Dessa and a nice view of a ginormous pile of lumber and brush that remained at the center of the pasture after the property had been cleared for the pasture. I eliminated these distracting details and added the more nostalgic scenery of the corner of Cudd Drive, across from where my friend Wilma Howell lives. Voila, a down-home scene from just another lazy day in the country.

(Click on the preview above to pull up a full view of the picture.)