Wow and some more wow.

The previous night Debbie told me about the deer and said that if I open my shutters in the morning I'd see them grazing on the front lawn. And she was right. I sat up in bed, pulled the shutter down and there she was, grazing away right in front of the house, then standing up on her hind legs to nibble the bottom leaves from the trees.

Deer on the lawn right in front of the house

After a very welcome shower, I ventured into the kitchen and met Pat, Monty's wife and Lisa, the Editor from Horse Magazine, who had organised he competition I won to come here. Several cups of great coffee followed, during which time Monty came through into kitchen, just passing through as he was busy working, but I got to shake his hand and probably said something really stupid; it's a funny thing to meet someone who's been your hero for years and years because no matter how many times that moment is played out in your imagination, the reality is somehow overwhelming and tongue tying.

Monty's iconic smile

He looks just like he does in all the pictures, just like David Attenborough, he's developed a sort of personal uniform of beige canvas jeans with a great big cowboy buckle - probably won in a competition - a blue shirt and a red scarf pinned with a silver brooch, and of course the classic cowboy hat.

We then went down to the Mustang pens where two untouched wild young horses were just being brought in. The pen has a set of barriers at the back that forms a chute with enough room for the two horses standing one behind the other and then gates were shut so each was in it's own small enclosure with a wall to one side and lower panels to the inside.

The reason for this is that they feel safe in the chute as well as being safer for the humans. 6 young women who were doing an exam were working three to each horse, gradually acclimatising them to being touched, first with a hand, then they brought in halters and got the horses to accept that they weren't dangerous by rubbing them with the halters and gradually slipping them over until, with the minimum of fuss, they had them on.

They were using were the Dually Halter, something Monty invented as a teaching aid. They work in a similar way to the bitless bridles that I've been riding with on Sam's horses, so that when the horse resists and pulls back, the cord that rests over the nose tightens and and isn't so comfortable as when it's loose. Not painful, just uncomfortable. The horse learns very quickly that the more they resist the more uncomfortable it gets and the moment they stop resisting the handler slackens off the pressure and the cord loosens off again.

The first horse to come out of the chute with the Dually on was leading around quite well after a matter of only a few minutes. The second took a little longer but it was very interesting to see the learning process taking place. At first he just planted his feet and dug in, and there's very few humans strong enough to force a horse to move if it doesn't wasn't to and none of the women were anywhere near big enough to do that, but with the Dually halter on the horse learns that resistance is uncomfortable and co-operation takes the discomfort away. The key is to take the pressure off the second the horse stops resisting and it's amazingly effective.


After lunch we were offered a ride, which was really the moment I'd been waiting for. Having never ridden a Western saddle it was fascinating to see it all going on, it's much more complicated than the English saddle and they are absolutely huge, I doubt very much if I'd be able to saddle up by myself. Whilst we were all getting saddled up Monty was up on his horse Chrome, doing his amazing spins and reining backwards with only the slightest touch on the reins.

Monty and Chrome doing the spin -
one hind leg stays absolutely still while the rest spin

I had watched the way horses can be trained to side step up to the mounting block but actually getting to stand up there and get the horse to do that with just vocal cues was amazing. So many horses just won't even stand still at the mounting block, never mind side step right up to it. I had a stretch to get my leg over the big saddle but I managed and then I was on. The saddle felt very wide compared to what I'm used to but not uncomfortable. The stirrups though were a bit tricky and I didn't feel sure that my feet would stay in them for long.

First Monty showed us how Chrome works with cattle, cutting one out of the herd and then turning one way then the next to keep it from rejoining the herd. He told us that Chrome makes the moves by himself, he knows his job so well that he instinctively understands what he has to do and it's obvious that he really enjoys his work. Then we rode into the big arena and Monty did some more of his tricks, showing us how Chrome can change his leads in an incredibly precise way, again with the most subtle cues. I had seen all this on the Equus Online University, which was great for me because I understood what he was doing it, but even so it was something special to see it right there.

We did a few circuits of the arena, had a bit of a trot and I was feeling ok. Then we went into a canter and that's where the difference in the saddle really kicked in. I found I didn't have the grip that I do with an English saddle, with it being so wide at thigh level and that's where I tend to grip, rather than with my knees. Then my left stirrup fell of and soon after that the right went too and I knew I was in trouble but all I could think of was how embarrassing it would be if I came off. The only way I was managing to stay on was by grabbing hold of the pommel which meant I had no way to use the reins to slow the horse and without any leg grip either he was just speeding up. Fortunately I came up behind Debbie and was able to call out to her to stop in the hope that my horse would get the message and pull up too, which he did.

Embarrassing enough but at least I stayed on. During dinner we watched some footage of Monty and Kelly Marks working with two horses that had been impossible to load into horse boxes and how they used the Dually Halter to get the horse to co-operate, tentatively at first, then a bit more confidently until the horse would follow Monty into the trailer without even a lead rope on.

To think how many horses are traumatised by the loading process, becoming ever more resistant with each attempt and how easy it can be to turn it around and get the horse to accept the process it makes me just wish everyone knew the trick to doing it was so accessible and so effective, and all without causing any pain to the horse.

After dinner we went down to the teaching centre for a screening of the final cut of a programme made by Discovery Military channel, featuring three Iraq veterans who, like 1 in 5 returnees, all had come home with PTSD and spent years in therapy with no effect and were just medicated to the point where they could live without exploding, but they were all really suffering badly with it. Monty had them doing Join-Up to help them understand that there are ways of being in the world that don't involve violence and maybe they'd be able to turn their lives around and find a way to trust people again.

Their experiences in Iraq had damaged their ability to trust because they had to learn to trust nothing and nobody in order to stay alive. Shockingly we heard that one of them, a strong, beautiful young woman had not only been subject to the terrors of combat, but had endured sexual assault from the male soldiers and resorted to locking herself in a cupboard to stay safe. It was certainly quite an eye opener. Thousand of young men and women must be in the same state as those three and if only they could all benefit from the Monty Roberts experience they might have some hope of getting their lives back. That was the end of my first day and it had been pretty much wow all the way and I slept for 12 hours straight.

2nd leg, 3rd leg...

The film didn't work. I stayed awake all the way. Should have gone for the Temazepam after all. Mrs Seat Napper spent the whole journey playing poker on the entertainment system, which I didn't mind in itself, but she had huge, manicured nails that were tap tap tapping on the touch screen so loud I could hear it over my headphones. I was so glad to see the back of those two.

Off the plane I was reunited with my scooter which had been disassembled in ways which I didn't even know it could be and even when put back together didn't want to work. Fortunately I knew that plugging it in could reset it and that worked. A very nice assistance lady then escorted me over to the next terminal and pointed me at the gate. By then I had only 20 minutes before boarding the next flight, so much for having a bite to eat and a spot of gadget shopping. I had just enough time to locate a certain piece of technology I wanted to bring for Debbie, then we were off again.

This time I had a very nice Norwegian couple sitting beside me and they were quite chatty and very obliging when I needed to get out to the toilet, unlike the seat nappers who looked at me like I was asking them to eat their own babies whenever I wanted to get up. Again I tried to put myself to sleep with movies but it didn't work. The Last Airbender was nice though, plus several episodes of Big Bang Theory, Karate Kid and a few more I can't even remember and then, at last I was in L.A.

Arriving at L.A. wasn't what I was expecting at all. I thought I'd be coming into a great big airport, kind of like Bristol but bigger - and it is bigger obviously - but there's so much of it that each arrival terminal has its own building and I was discharged from the baggage reclaim straight onto the road outside. I still had nearly an hour to go before the shuttle and I'd thought that I would be able to find a wifi spot and get hold of Debbie by Skype but there was no wifi, or none I could get onto and nowhere obvious to go. Nor was there any shops and I was gasping for water by this time, not just thirsty but in need of something to take medication with. I asked at an information stand and was told that no, there really was nowhere to get a drink. Amazingly though, a driver who was standing by with a pick-up sign said he had bottles of water in the car and he'd go and get me some if I held his sign. He came back with a bottle of lovely cold water 5 minutes later much to my gratitude. Somehow I don't expect people in cities to be so kind, so it was a nice surprise.

My next problem was getting myself out to the shuttle. Despite my careful planning about how to strap Rolley and the giant oversized suitcase onto the back of the scooter, I had tried it out using an empty suitcase. The full suitcase at a shade below 20kg was not nearly as obedient as it was when empty. I tried all sorts of strapping but it kept sliding sideways and being a right pain. Fortunately it wasn't far to the shuttle pickup.

By this time I had tried a phone box to get hold of Debbie and failed miserably. The shuttle was due any minute, so I had to do something very brave (for me) and ask someone to send a text message for me. She looked alarmed and seemed not to know how to do such a technological thing, but was happy to give me her phone to make the call. Debbie wasn't far away and pulled up only a few minutes later. I was ever so glad to see her and she was just as lovely as she had sounded the one time we had spoken by Skype. She had apples and pears for me and I filled my pockets with fruit.

The shuttle arrived after not too much longer and I got loaded on. We pulled away and set off for Buellton, with a change to make two hours down the road. I'm not a great passenger in a car, I can't sit in the back seat without getting sick and even in the front seat I get nauseated very quickly. I haven't been on a bus for years and years but I used to take the stagecoach to and fro between London and Edinburgh a lot so I thought I'd be ok. Oh dear how wrong I was and how glad I was that the bus had an on-board toilet.

Having lost my last dose of medication to the bus toilet and 46 hours after getting up on Sunday morning I was in not a great state by the time I got off the final bus. It was cold and I was feeling like crap and worried that we'd never get the scooter into the car. As I'd read Monty's book on the plane about his Join-Up in the wild with Shy Boy, and the physical endurance he went through with that, I decided that I could probably hang on in there. There was no sign of Debbie but fortunately the bus driver gallantly refused to leave me there and after waiting a few minutes he offered to call Debbie and she was just around the corner and arrived 30 seconds later. The next step was getting the scooter into the back of the car. That was quite some effort but with determination we did it. I was pretty glad as I'd thought I might even have to drive the scooter behind the car for the 2 miles we had to go.

We pulled into Flag is Up somewhere around midnight and Debbie showed me into a beautiful room covered in drawings and paintings of horses, Cowboys, Native Americans, deer and spirits and two sculptures, one of which I particularly like of a mare that has just given birth with the foal laying behind her, looking like it just dropped out that second and the mare is looking over her shoulder at the little one that she just splatted out behind her. The house is full of Pat's own  sculptures and there's something about the life in them that just makes me want to touch and stroke them. I hit the bed a few minutes later and that was the end of my 46 hour day.

Up, up in the air

I'm well on my way, somehow still awake despite having been up for 28 hours so far, and another 18 hours travel to go. So far it's all run pretty smoothly with only a few minor hitches. I left the house at 4am, said a bye bye, see you soon to my sleeping dog, and got on the road, stopping in Lampeter to pick up LD who is house sitting and set off for Bristol.

The roads were almost empty till we got near Cardiff and the early morning commuters appeared. We were treated to a suitably spectacular sunrise, starting with a peek of burgundy on the horizon, which spread, tinting the air purple then broke out into a fiesta of pink and baby blue fluffiness, then the pink morphed into orange and a giant vivid red-orange ball appeared dead ahead. Very pretty it was too.

I should have known better than to stop at a service station on the Welsh side of the border. At 6.30am there was nothing open except for the toilets so we didn't get the coffee break we wanted and even the machine in the petrol station bore a big sign saying 'Coffee machine out of order'. Some sort of anti-caffeine conspiracy perhaps and exactly the sort of thing that would ordinarily have wound me up something chronic, but I was in such a good mood that I just shrugged my shoulders and had another few pieces of buzz gum. Thank goodness for buzz gum.

The next minor hitch was the signage to Bristol Airport. I hadn't bothered to put the Sat Nav on because I thought it would be so well signposted that there would be no point having that shouting over the top of the music and clanging bells whenever I edged over 70mph an hour. That turned out to be a bad move. First I very nearly missed the motorway exit which came up with no warning, just a sign right on the junction that forced me to cut across 3 lanes in one fell swoop - fortunately it was a relatively quiet stretch and I could do that without endangering us or other road users. And there was no plane icon, that was what made it really hard to spot. Having driven past several enormous signs for Cardiff Airport, with a plane logo, I was looking out for something similar.

Anyway, I made it and then started to follow the still very subtle signs around the most tortuous route imaginable and then suddenly we noticed a sign to turn left off the dual carriageway, just too late to do anything about it - again, no warning at all. At that point I started to be very glad that I had wanted to leave quite so early as it meant we had a decent buffer. I managed to turn round a few miles later and then we were both on the case, scanning for signs, including quite a few that were semi-obscured behind overgrown foliage.

No more missed junctions, but a very strange route, at one point I'm sure I saw a sign saying Airport 6 miles, then 20 minutes later another one saying exactly the same - weird. LD was getting distinctly annoyed by the deviant signage (possibly exacerbated by lack of promised caffiene) but my good mood kept me going.

Once at the airport we unloaded, strapped Rolley onto the back of the scooter and headed for the terminal. I was glad then that I'd checked in the night before as the regular queues were distinctly long and the whole system seemed to have been put on 'Interminably Slow' mode. There was only 2 people ahead of me but the first too an extraordinarily long time, I have absolutely no idea what on earth was going on there. Finally I got the bag checked and my scooter labelled up with various pink tags and, at last, coffee.

By the time that was done and I'd bid LD farewell it was time to go up to departures and somehow, by the time I got there the plane was boarding already. No duty free shopping for me, just as well there wasn't anything I especially wanted to get. The carry on really started with the baggage handlers and the scooter. Why they needed to disassemble it quite so many times I don't know, but after demonstrating how to lift the seat off and get to the batteries I was hustled onto the auto lift to get onto the plane.

The next minor hitch was finding my seat occupied. MY SEAT, the only seat on the whole plane that actually suits my needs, my rather complicated needs arising from my own particular rag-bag of impairments and for which I had spent hours looking for a set of 4 flights all with that seat available and without having to do overnight stopovers at Newark. Was I cross? Ordinarily I would have been, yes. But this is me in unshakeably good mood, even the permacramp I've had in my left leg bicep for the last 5 hours or so is not going to shake it. So I politely informed an attendant that my seat was occupied and left them to sort it out.

It did take a good 5 minutes or so to sort out, during which time the left leg started to shake uncontrollably, but hey, what's a bit of uncontrollable shaking when one is en route to Flag is Up Farms. I even managed to smile at the seat nappers who were still trying to get me to have the aisle seat (my idea of a waking nightmare, with people brushing past me every 5 minutes).

So I got my seat, not a moment too soon and then had to sit and watch helplessly whilst 2 baggage handlers tried to dismantle the scooter - again. The seat just lifts off, you just lift it straight up and it comes out. I can do it (at a push) on my own, so one strong man with 2 hands should not struggle, let alone 2 strong men (I'm assuming that a certain degree of strength is a prerequisite of being a baggage handler). In the end there was 6 of them clustered around it, frantically searching for a hidden button or lever that would release the seat whilst I waved unseen at the window. Eventually they got it, then bizarrely had to man handle it onto the baggage belt which started several feet up in the air. All very strange, and a little worrying, if this performance is going to be repeated 3 more times. I think I'll give them better instructions next time. Lift it UP, just straight up in the air.

Seat napping couple haven't been very friendly but that's ok, I can do without enforced social behaviour with strangers but I do wish she'd put her leathery over-tanned elbows away as the right one was starting to infringe into my seat. Anyway, happy happy. I had a stroke of luck with the food, having forgotten to book a veggie meal until it was too late, I confessed as much but got a dinner anyway and it was rice based so suited me fine - well as fine as congealed airplane food ever can. The time is passing quite nicely, only another 3 hours on this leg.

I'm hoping to have time for a bit of gadget shopping before the next flight but that may be optimistic given the way things went at Bristol. Oh well, we'll see. It's all gravy as they say. They being fans of gravy presumably. Ok, so now to work out how to get out to the toilet as seat napping couple have both fallen asleep and they're too big, and I'm too wobbly to get out without their co-operation. Then I might try a movie and see if I can get some sleep that way - there's nothing like a movie that I actually want to watch for putting me to sleep, almost as good as Temazepam. Over and out for now.

Getting myself a bit confused

Timezone wise, I've just hit Newark, but confused myself completely by having a full veggie breakfast with beer at what was 10.30pm here and mid afternoon destination time. And the wearing of 2 watches is not being as helpful as I thought - I can't seem to remember which is which and whether they mean a.m. or p.m. Think maybe I don't travel very often. I have managed to find a way to strap both Rolley and the giant over-sized suitcase to the back of the scooter, leaving enough room for hand luggage on the scooter and I can even go in reverse without it all snarling up. But seriously. I should really think about putting something in that oversized suitcase other than the 7 pairs of socks with the days of the week on them (thought it was a good idea for remembering what day it is - normally I don't struggle with this but in a different time zone and without the regulation of the working week It can all get a bit confusing). - Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Clocked off and watch set to California time

Work finished, last emails sent out, currency ordered, Press Release sent to the local paper. I even treated myself to an Executive lounge ticket and fast-track security, all for £15. Now that I've finished work I'm going on to California time. Unfortunately I forgot to delay my Amitriptyline so I'm now feeling remarkably tired for 4.30pm, but I'm going to stay up for a bit longer and think about what I've still got to do.

I still need to remember to order vegetarian plane food, though if the last flight on Continental, it's all pretty bad regardless and the more restrictions you impose, the worse it gets.

Also I need to work out a schedule for medication so I don't end up suddenly realising that I'm in pain and going into cold turkey or overdosing on the Diclofenac as that can cause some very unpleasant problems. Might have to set some alarms. It's complicated being a solo travelling crip. I was able to take a PA with me when I went to Vegas, but this time I'm not only on my own but also have a total travel time of 28 hours. My total out of bed time, assuming I get up about 10am on Sunday will be 46 hours. Once upon a time I could do a triple shift in 7-Eleven and still do my college work, but I don't have that kind of stamina any more so I'll have to work out the best time to get a bit of sleep in.

I still need to work out how to get Rolley and 2 bags and me all onto the scooter, I'll try that out in the morning. I'm hoping that I can use Rolley as a trailer for the suitcase and carry the small rucksack on the scooter at my feet. If that doesn't work I may have to jettison Roley, but I'd rather not if possible as it's always better to have more rather than less options.

Probably the best moment I had today was receiving a photograph taken by Debbie Loucks, Monty's daughter the day before. Having that made it suddenly all seem tangible and to think that I'll be there in under a hundred hours is just proper exciting. And you know what. I have GOT to get me a hat.

Concentration 0, Distraction 10

It's my last day of work before 2 weeks of annual leave. My concentration span has been diminishing all week, I've really only just managed to keep up with general correspondence and deadlined tasks that I HAVE to complete before I go. My Mac Pro, despite its 8gb RAM and quad core processing, is gasping and choking on the number of tasks I'm throwing at it to perform simultaneously, including multiple exporting of a 5 minute movie I was moved to create after having my head groomed by a Shetland Pony foal. So I'm off to the office to try and tie up any loose ends, set up an auto responder, and declare myself absent. I've never taken this much leave in one go, apart from 2 weeks sick leave when I was in hospital in 2007, so I'm wondering if I will really manage to not sneak a peek at my work email for a whole 2 weeks? Anybody want to take a bet. Yep, I'm going now. Say what? - Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

New Crocs and I'm cracking the Eiffel Tower

I really do wish I was one of those people who could throw everything they need into a bag just before setting out. But I'm not. I'm from the school of 'everything that I might ever possibly need to cover all eventualities' as opposed to the school of 'only those things that I absolutely will need'. Maybe it's because of being the Brownies all those years ago, I always got top marks for pocket contents and have been a big fan of pockets and things that go in pockets and have very few items of clothes (outerwear anyway) that lack pockets. Oh, and bags with pockets too, and those utility waistcoat that are just a mass of pockets. I have a cardboard box habit as well, but that's probably another blog altogether.

So meanwhile the tomatoes have started cropping and I've been digging up potatoes, the latter being a particular success story as they were grown in an old cupboard that would otherwise have been scrapped, using the spent compost from last year's hanging baskets fed with seaweed and chicken crap (pelletised, I don't have any actual shitting chickens), and the potatoes were some ordinary eating potatoes that had hidden themselves and grown sprouts. So they are grown in scrap and fed on crap. They turned out to be Romanos, red-skinned and very versatile. The first one actually came to light just millimetres from the surface of the soil. I'll definitely do that again next year. The broccoli in the wardrobe was another success story as well as the discovery of radish pods. I sowed radishes on top of the potatoes, but they didn't develop into radishes, just grew tall stems with pink flowers, some of which I ate in salads but the remainder turned into bottle shaped green pods. Then I heard on Radio4 that these things can be eaten and the Germans like to eat a particular radish pod with beer. The flavour is very mild radish with green juiciness.

I also solved the airport shoe issue by buying a new pair of Crocs, very, very sexy Crocs with a white band and a red stripe. Easy to pull off and on and they will cope if my feet swell up. I really like them. I Think it's the red go-faster stripe - remember those? I'd rather associate with that than the favoured beer of my adolescence. 

And tonight I shall be cracking the Eiffel Tower. Not the real Eiffel Tower, but a plastic Eiffel Tower that came home with me from Vegas. I've been putting into it any loose change that's under a pound and the pound coins if I had less than 3 and there's got to be a few hundred quids holiday spends in there.  

And today I had a top-up haircut from a Shetland Pony foal who also tried to undress me and sat in my lap. But that story will have to wait, and yes, I got video and stills.