Transylvanian horseman

Shoeing Doru the stallion / rainy weather

Doru is a heavy fellow at over 600kg (1,300lbs) and gets through shoes at quite a rate. Even welded borium doesn't seem to extend their life by much. So I've made up a set of shoes with low toe pieces and calkins made from 8mm (3/8") round bar welded on. I've applied welded borium below these sections so that (hopefully) they won't wear away too quickly. This small amount of extra height ought to protect the nail heads, which otherwise wear away on one side of the shoe or both, leading to premature shoe loss. At the same time, the shoes shold not be so raised as to impair Doru's gait. Now I shall see how this experiment progresses.

It's been raining on and off for days. Diane drew short straw guiding the trip that is out this week. The stream, previously almost empty, is running strongly with chocolatey water. The levels in the two wells ought to rise soon too. The one near the stream provides water for the horses, and its level closely follows that of the stream. The other, in the garden, is said by the locals "never to run dry". It follows the level of water in the aquifer more than watercourses. However, this has been a dry year, and we do use more water than the previous occupants (who drew water by hand rather than by pump). A project for next year may well be to build a large cistern to collect rain water for non-drinking uses. I expect that we will build a concrete tank, though I have my eye on an old railway tank car if I can buy one for scrap. There is even an old steam locomotive tender still sitting in a scrapyard in town. (I have the cast iron number plates from the locomotive here.)

Another week has started

A weekend has shot past. Supposedly a time to rest from the week's labours, weekends seem to pass in a flash. Diane is taking this week's ride out, leaving me to get on with a variety of work here. I've started by welding borium on horseshoes, and moved onto fixing a leak in a bathroom. Danielle is busy with paperwork as usual, of course.

 

On a trip to Bistrita, I snapped a photo of an old horse-drawn vehicle that has appeared outside Ilva Mica town hall, just down the valley from here. At first I thought that it might be a fire engine, however it looks more like a mail car. I wonder just how many old vehicles there are sitting in barns out there? I have an old horse-drawn fire engine in my barn, awaiting restoration, amazingly only withdrawn from fire brigade service around the year 2002. It must have been amongst the last horse-drawn fire engines in service in the Western world.

On Sunday we were out with our big old mare, Kaluga, and the new harness. I'm pleased with the padded saddle that spreads out the weight of the harness and shafts over her back. Most harnesses out here have a plain wide back strap, which can rub the spine if the horse doesn't have a naturally rounded profile. The padded sections are filled with wool, like saddle stuffing.

The horses received their periodic veterinary checkup on Saturday. As usual, several of the older horses needed teeth rasping. We also found a couple of cases of peritonitis, a swelling of the roof of the mouth, which is believed to result from the horses eating pine boughs in the forest. Presumably spines occasionally prick the inside of the mouth, through which infection starts. Since pine forest is so widespread, it is difficult to eliminate this problem, so we are treating each case with a course of injections.

Pintea, the white gelding who seems to have strong allergic reactions to various influences, had a bad reaction to an insect bite. The bite had scabbed over, however we found that the skin below the scab had necrosis. Basically, a piece of skin the size of a coin had turned to leather. This is a new and unusual problem, which I put down to more aggressive insect species appearing after a cool winter followed by a long, hot summer. The vet easily removed the dead skin under local anaesthesia, and Pintea has a sterile dressing in place whilst the wound heals. I've applied wound healing gel and changed the dressing daily, taping the dressing in place. It is quite difficult to get the tape to adhere, even special medical tape from the pharmacy. Fortunately Pintea is good and doesn't try and remove the dressing with his teeth (I am sure that he can reach his back) or rolling. He's in the stable now where it is cooler and there are fewer flies.

Finally, I've been thinking about the problems caused by lost shoes. The horses are doing more miles than in previous years, and shoes are getting lost from time to time. The biggest cause seems to be overreaching, and I have spoken to my farrier to take care not to set shoes too far back. Precise attention to detail is not a Romanian strength, and I do have to watch my farrier carefully. I've decided to acquire some Easyboots, one in each size, to tie to the saddles so that I always have one to replace any lost shoe for the rest of that day's ride. We can always nail a shoe back on, or replace it if lost, at an overnight stop. However the horse may have to go for several hours over stony ground to reach the end of the day's ride. I've been advised to buy the Easyboot Epic with gaiters - has anyone any comments?

So who is a Princess?

The discussion about horse lovers is becoming interesting. As I noted in response to Callie's comments, once horses become a commodity and riding a product, the people taking part don't seem quite so nice.

That prompted me to thinking about the Princesses who can make an outfitter's life so difficult. If only we could see them coming. So I've recorded some hints that might be useful to outfitters and others. Feel free to comment and to suggest further warning signs.

Criticising other riding holidays, and the people who run them is one of the best signs. If someone slates other outfitters without good reason, one is next in line as a target.

Complaining unreasonably about the booking agent is another good sign. If someone highlights minor "differences" between what they think the offer comprises and what they believe they have found - the mountains are more or less steep than the expected, the horses bigger or smaller, etc - then trouble may be expected. Princesses are known for paying insufficient attention to details such as the level of riding, what is included, what they need to bring, and transfers.

Not bringing key items from the equipment list, such as a raincoat, but expecting the outfitter to provide whatever is missing free of charge, is a bad sign.

Some Princesses contact the outfitter directly, after booking with an agent, with a list of extra requirements. Usually one is expected to fulfil that list of additional items at no extra charge.

The English are known to give themselves away by arriving under the influence of alcohol, or arriving craving a drink anyway. Some of them are so accustomed to drink that one can't immediately tell that they are drunk, however rudeness and of course the smell do come to one's notice. This problem manisfests itself too in turning up late for breakfast, groggy, though by then it's too late for the outfitter.

The driver making the airport transfer is a vital ally. He or she can report selfish behaviour, such as making repeated demands for photo stops or pauses at souvenir kiosks even when the transport is late and other guests are hot, hungry and thirsty.

Having a dysfunctional family is another warning sign. If a family functions badly together, one member at least may be a Princess. A recent Princess visitor had a son in a juvenile correction facility, and she certainly placed her needs above everyone else's.

Of course, once in a while, a client even announces that they are a Princess. Usually these difficult people are female (though not exclusively). Occasionally they recognise that they are difficult, even trying to make a virtue out of it!

And finally the Princess and her male equivalent ride selfishly, treat their horses roughly, barge into other riders' horses, and frequently damage tack. In this, they prove conclusively that they are not horse lovers.

Why people ride

I was reading a post on the thought provoking Profitable Horseman blog http://douglasemerson.blogs.com/dont_look_back/ entitled Why do your clients pay you money? Douglas Merson suggests that the number one reason is that they love horses. It's an interesting assertion. From what I see here, there are two main client stereotypes.

1) Those who love horses. These people are great to deal with, make the best of a trip, love the horse that they ride, are delighted by the foals that they see, like to see working horses, and generally have a wonderful time. I've just had a family riding for a week because their children loved horses, and it was a good week indeed.

2) Those that have time to fill and money to spend, and haven't anything better to do than ride. These people look for the "perfect trip", which is illusive like the "perfect job" or the "perfect outfit". They set themselves up to be disappointed. Give them beautiful scenery, lovely weather and happy, willing horses, and they will find something wrong, somewhere.

It makes me realise that, in this job, one needs to be good - and to  have a thick skin. Included in having a thick skin is being calm. This isn't an area where I am greatly gifted, so it takes effort. Good luck too, sometimes, like not being woken out of a deep sleep with a stressful issue. This afternoon I was woken from a much needed nap with the news that "a horse has colic". After the initial shock, the right step - which I reached after some moments of agitation - was to determine whether the horse had colic or indeed any other problem. In fact, the mare was hot and sweaty, and got down to roll as soon as she was tied up to the hitching rail after a ride. Respiration and heart rate were normal, there was no distress, she just badly wanted to roll really after a really warm day out riding.

Anyway, I'm working on the thick skin. Luckily my agents are realistic and generally see when a client is swinging the lead. They can see that a client who objects to having a packed lunch every day, when the itinerary says clearly that riders are given packed lunches, and when I'd need a helicopter to fly in anything heavy, might just be picky. (I liked especially the statement that "I should offer chilled wine with lunch". There are English riders who really have a problem if they can't get alcohol by 3pm. It wasn't until I visited America that I realised just how boozy the English can be. Just how many riding accidents result from their insobriety?) Anyway, if I go on any more, it will look like I'm not doing well growing that thick skin. And I do need to keep up appearances, in true British fashion, don't I?

Luckily I love my horses and they, and the clients who love horses too, make this existence worthwhile.

Maintenance needed!

It's been a busy time here, with a two-week ride just finished and another one-week ride about to go out. Nevertheless, we've been keeping an eye on things that need maintaining. Saddlery is something that we check when horses come in from a ride, as well as when they are being prepared to go out. Items of saddlery wear, stitches come undone, things get snagged out on a ride. Nevertheless, you can imagine my surprise when a horse got back from a day out with the girth shown in the picture. After all, we have spent a lot of money on tack specifically in order reliably to be safe.

This is a new girth, bought this season from a reputable dealer who receives his supplies from a well-known equestrian shop in Budapest. Yet it split through over two thirds of its width in the course of a day out riding. I suppose that it was manufactured in some dodgy factory in China, by people who may never have seen a horse and who don't understand (or necessarily care about) the consequences of a girth breaking. I have nine other girths from the same shop to check, and throw out immediately if they show any signs of deterioration. (It turns out that a second has started to split, and has already been taken out of use by Diane.) To be safe, they will all need replacing soon, if the materials from which they are made can deteriorate so quickly. It makes me angry that such rubbish can be sold, especially when my excellent old webbing girths from Cottage Craft in the UK remain sound after years of use.   

On a more regular note, it's also time to have the horses' teeth checked and rasped where necessary. Several of the older horses do wear their molars into sharp ridges. A veterinarian visits every six months, and half a dozen horses can need rasping on each visit. Rasping will enable them to eat more comfortably, chew their feed more effectively (with the result that far less maize appears unchewed in their droppings), and respond better to the bit.

Finally, it's been time to maintain my itinerary and rates. I've updated my riding and carriage driving itineraries for 2008, based on this year's successful tours. I've calculated new rates too, based on a detailed spreadsheet analysis that includes forecast patronage based on current trends, the centre's fixed costs and the variable costs in running each ride. Without considerable financial information about the centre, and a family of related spreadsheets, pricing would simply be guesswork. Meanwhile, I'm optimistic for 2008, since 2007 trade so far is some 50% up on 2006 (the best increase in eight years), whilst patronage has risen each year since I started in 1999. I'm having to raise prices for 2008 for a variety of reasons, including changes to international exchange rates but also because of considerable investment in the centre here. So I am confident that I offer good value for money in a competitive environment where there are many places to ride worldwide. As a visitor just wrote to me: "I'm full of great memories for the wonderful holiday. I just can't stop thinking of the great time that I had."

Friday miscellany

A week or two ago, when I made a great long list of the things that I do, I forgot something. Working in the forge. This weekend we need to re-hang a pair of gates. I have four hinges, but nothing to hook them onto. So a length of rebar was pressed into service. It needed cutting into four. Each piece needed one end heated and forged into a point that can be hammered into a wooden post. The middle of each then needed heating too, so that a sharp right-angle bend could be made. Whilst some pieces were heating to a bright cherry red in the gas forge, I was hammering another. Whilst the hammer rebounds cleanly from the anvil, it lands with a dull thud on the soft, malleable red hot metal and rebounds much less. The bang of each strike is loud even when wearing ear defenders. Danielle told me later that the hammering was noisy even thirty metres away in the house. Still, forging isn't a matter of brute force. It's about speed and precision, carefully targetted blows directed in quick succession before the metal cools.

One might imagine that forging is a good form of stress relief. In fact it isn't. It's best to be calm in the first place. There are plenty of ways to be injured with fire and hot metal. It's when stressed or in a hurry that one can forget that a piece of metal is hot, and pick it up with one's hand. It may not be red hot any more, but it can cause a painful injury. Stepping on a piece of hot metal that has been left on the floor to cool is another risk. If the smell of burning shoe sole doesn't alert one to where one has just stepped, a burnt foot certainly will. In fact it could make one hopping mad.

Later I got to use one of my favourite gadgets. It's a new acquisition, a magnetic sweeper. It's formed of a magnet about 40cm (15") long, with a small wheel at each end, attached to a long handle. It's a great way to pick up all the scraps of horse shoe nail that farriery work inevitably generates. Each time the magnet picks up a scrap, there is a satisfying click. It amazes me how many tiny nail head fragments there really are. And each one that I collect potentially means one less puncture suffered by my car.

Simple items are appealing, so I have posted a photo of the communal washing machine in the village of Sant, about 15km (10 miles) north of here. A while back, I mentioned that we have a washerwoman in the village. This is the kind of setup that she has. River water is channelled via sluices into large wooden tubs where the washing swirls around. It's free, organic (no detergent is used) and sustainable. This used to be the site of the village watermill, and the site complete with sluices has been put to a new use.

More photos of the carriages

This afternoon two of the new carriages had their first outings.

First, to take photos. Danielle took some proper photos with her big digital SLR camera, and I took some snaps with my handly little digital camera. It's pretty clear whose pictures ended up posted here.

Second, we took a trip down to the village so that our cook, Mrs Reghina, could visit the doctor where she received a large injection in her butt. For pneumonia, in the middle of summer. Lucky that I ordered carriages with upholstered seats, then. It was a big needle, so she said.

The small two-wheel carriage goes along very easily, with just a little rocking motion from the flexibility in the steel shafts. It is manoevrable, comfortable for two people, and light (90kg or 200lbs empty) for the horse to pull.

The larger wagonette rides smoothly on its soft suspension. At one point we had six adults and two children squeezed in, well within the load-carrying capability of horse and vehicle even if a little cramped. In the picture, we are stopped at a mineral water spring. Gelu the wise old gelding waits patiently.

This brings me to the matter of naming horses. I had let on that I might buy two or three more driving horses. Sarah comments that one ought to be called Hugh. I assume that she means that I acquire a horse and re-name it Hugh. For Hugh isn't a common name in Romania, neither for people nor horses. Well, I shall give the matter my fullest consideration. Mainly, it's an easy name for my Romanian staff to pronounce, and that's a point in its favour. It's not too silly. It does, however, oblige me to buy a stallion or gelding. A mare called Hugh is silly. (So is our tomcat called Zoe, which is a long story. Danielle suggests re-naming him Zoro.) I shall look out for a horse who can become Hugh. With a name like that, perhaps a tall, elegant, aloof horse. What do readers think?

New carriages

Last autumn I ordered four carriages from the Eurocar factory in Western Romania. The idea was that I would begin to offer carriage driving holidays as well as riding trips. Today the carriages arrived. A timber truck brought them as a backload, having made a delivery near to the carriage factory. There are three small carriages for two people each, and one wagonette for up to six.

All are configured for a single horse, however the wagonette also has a pole that can be fitted for traction by two horses. I decided to use pneumatic tyres because some of the routes planned use forest tracks that can be muddy at times, and other sections use stony tracks that quickly destroy the solid rubber tyres fitted to spoked wheels. They all have spring suspension and folding hoods for comfort. Each carriage has brakes too, to ease the load on the horse on long downhill stretches.

The next step is to take a series of publicity photos, tomorrow morning in fact. Then one of the carriages needs to make the planned five-day circuit to verify its performance. We've already completed the circuit using a farm cart and our two-wheel training carriage.

All told, this points to an exciting new development for our business here. There are few places where vistors can drive a carriage in a horse society, staying in traditional villages and seeing the locals working their draught horses. I'm looking forward to starting to operate these carriage tours.

On the road

Most weeks I’m away from Monday to Friday. I spend most of each day with guests, however I manage a couple of hours to myself some evenings. I like to read. Reading keeps my mind active, as well as bringing new interest into life. For a bit of variety, I’ve been reading Jack Kerouac’s On the Road. Well, that book certainly describes a different sort of journey to mine. It is curious to read a work so vibrant, that seems to describe a relatively modern world, yet each key protagonist is long dead and their world has indeed been swept away. As well as interesting me, On the Road saddened me that such intellect had been applied, such energy expended, to discover nothing in particular. There was no real meaning at the end of their frenetic quest.

Living in the mountains, I can find more identity in the landscape here than the Beat Generation seemed to find in its traveling. That definition of identity in the landscape has more in common with traditional people such as the Native Americans. It’s not that I subscribe to their belief system (I am Greek Orthodox Christian) though I respect their link to the land and its creatures. Modern man mostly has lost that link. However, powerful and characteristic places can help define the people that live there. It's an Orthodox view too that one can find God through the created world. That robust link to the land is a double-edged sword. A good place can strengthen me. However, when a good place is degraded (something that mankind is depressingly good at), then I too can be weakened. I've found strength in special landscapes for many years, not least the wild mountain landscapes of Scotland, from where my anscestors came. I've felt loss when those landcapes have been ravaged by man. Now this landscape strengthens me, gives me a focus here. Like the windswept  landscape of Assynt in northwestern Scotland, long special to me, this area too is dominated by iconic mountains visible from afar.

This week a guest said something that encouraged me. She had realized just how much logistics is involved in running a trail. I keep 30 horses, which need feeding, shoeing and veterinary care. I need to buy the shoes and nails, buy veterinary drugs, supervise the farrier, make sure that the veterinarian visits. Keeping trail horses running week after week requires observation, care and decisions. Each week, each client needs to be allocated a suitable horse. I have five staff who need to be managed and motivated. I need to liaise with my guide, Diane, regarding who rides what horse, which horses need rest and other care, and so on. I operate two vehicles which need to be serviced, taxed and insured. I need to buy upward of 100 tons of hay and 15 tons of maize each year, and the hay has to be inspected load by load. That’s around 150 horse-cart loads of hay, which also need storage in the barns. I need to oversee the land, which includes a couple of miles of fending. I ride many of the trails too, which sees me out two weeks out of three. Then there is the financial side of the business to run, including supervising a very frustrating accountant. Marketing takes some time too, and now we are preparing our 2008 offers as well as negotiating with a potential new agent. Danielle looks after the bookings and reservations, which involves liaison with various suppliers. She also looks after the guesthouse, which employs a cook and which requires weekly provisioning. That all adds up to an enormous amount of work. Usually I find myself busy 75 to 80 hours a week during the season. Danielle is kept very busy too. This kind of workload is exhausting, in a way that most people don’t understand until they have worked under such a regime. Not every visitor realises this. Really, some people seem to think that we just get to ride for fun at their expense! Anyway, I’ve found a Riding Centre Manager qualification that I can apply for. It will be good to have a piece of paper that recognises all the above. The workload might sometimes leave me feeling pretty well beat, however I have meaning in what I do, and soon I may have a certificate too.

I rode my big Belgian-cross stallion, Doru, last week. He is a gentle and sensible horse, large and strong enough to have plenty of reserve carrying me at the front of a ride. It’s a while since I have ridden a stallion much, however Doru really is a pleasure to ride and causes no fuss with the mares. He’s been out frequently in draught, so other horses are no novelty to him. The other riders hadn’t been out with a stallion before, and were pleasantly surprised by his disposition. I let him graze at the lunchstops as I don’t have enough turnout to let him free to graze at home. He certainly appreciated the grass, eating as much as possible during each lunch hour.