Equine Ink posted this a while ago, but I just discovered it: a fascinating post about the diving horse acts of years gone by. Read all about it here. Really incredible that they could teach the horses to do that, and that there weren't more deaths along the way!!!
National Geographic has a short but nice video profile of equine photographer Mark Harvey. Neat to see behind the scenes. Take a look here.
Jessie and her Kiger Mustang, Fox, caught my eye at a dressage schooling show today. Fox was wearing this awesome custom leather halter. Jessie said she got it from Hell Creek Custom Leather.
Isn't he adorable? They did a nice dressage test, too.
They do! Take a look a the American Mule Racing Association photo pages.
We met Bill Eggers at a local fair in Connecticut. He built every last part of this replica stagecoach by hand. He's lent it to be driven in a couple of parades, pulled by ponies, as it is 3/4 size. He doesn't drive horses himself. He said he just thought it would be a fun project. Now there's a guy with some dedication! He chuckled that he built it 3/4 size mostly so it would fit through the the door to his workshop.
The neatest thing, I thought, was the suspension. The box - the part the passengers sit in - is suspended from the wheels and base by two 75 foot leather straps that are wrapped back and forth on themselves, creating the thick black line you can see below the passenger compartment. That way the passengers and driver don't feel the bump of every rut in the road.
He said it's an accurate replica (except for being smaller) of a typical Wells Fargo stagecoach. It's even got a lockbox beneath the driver's seat for the "gold" and a replica firearm hanging from the driver's seat to fend off "robbers." The big "stick" on the near side of the driver's seat is the brake.
The interior's all leather, and there's a mural on the door.
It was a nice piece of work!
The Pony Expression has a recent post about draft animals that includes an impressive picture of an enormous team of horses, plus info about draft horses and oxen. Go take a look!
The following is reprinted with permission from Rob's Blog, a blog about rural and traditional life in Serbia. If the beautiful Serbian landscapes and lost-in-time rural life appeal to you, Rob and his wife (who are British) offer a rental cottage and rural tourism activities for visitors. There are more lovely photos on both websites.
Out on the Atar - by Robert Maccurrach - May 23, 2009
Coming
across Djordje Novaković and his daughter Eta drawing some fresh hay
home with his Lipizaner mares Sonja and Beba I discovered that next day
he was making a long journey. With mares, foal and fijaker
he was setting out for Subotica to carry bride and groom and guests
from the church to the wedding feast. This, it turns out, is his summer
work. Once or twice a month he is on duty with his beautiful old fijaker and perfect team. When I asked if he would like some company he welcomed me to join him. “Hvala Bogu,! Dobro došao!” What a privilege it was!
In the
heat of the day, not long after noon, we set off with feed, hay,
festive clothes and everything he needed for a 2 night stopover in the
old Empire's Baroque city of fine buildings and churches. It is a very
long way to Subotica by road but it turns out that an abandoned railway
line takes you there over 40km across country in a straight line. This
makes all the difference. On the way out of the village every time a
car or truck came towards us the foal, only 5 weeks old, shied
violently. “He's got to learn!” said Djordje with a reassuring flick of
his whip. The fact that no one slows down for horses shows that drivers
and horses are quite used to each other.
Soon
we were heading out along a hard and good track, leaving our
neighbouring village Pacser behind us, striking out across the atar
as the open farmland is called. The land spread away to an infinite
horizon with a wide open sky under the hot May sun. A breeze kept us
cool and the land rolled slowly by to the sound of iron rims on sandy
gravel and Djordje's constant talking to his horses. The foal, tied to
Sonja's harness, settled down and jogged along happily. A horse drawn
cart is surprisingly noisy. The background murmur of bird song from
trackside cover was only occasionally obvious. Nightingales sang and
bee-eaters sailed bubbling in the blue. Red-backed shrikes flitted from
the tops of rose thickets. I even spotted a pair of wheatears. Alas no
chance to stop and investigate things. On we walked steadily passing
bright pink wild peas, yellow Euphorbia and purple sage.
Most
crops looked very dry and many were also dirty with weeds. Was this a
result of credit squeeze or cost cutting? It is disastrous not to weed
maize and soya. Winter wheat and barley were almost ready for harvest,
but very short and probably very poorly cropping. This sandy ridge of
land that arcs out from Subotica for about 50 kms is what Djordje calls
“hungry land”. It is light and easy to work, but it needs manure. When
rain doesn't come the crop is quickly burnt up. Under such conditions
the traditional wheat and barley do better while the non-native maize
and sunflower shrivel up.
Not
long ago the land would have been full of people hoeing and weeding by
hand. But they have left. Everywhere there would have been thriving salaš ,
the little farmsteads of the open plains. Few have survived the process
of post WW2 collectivisation and industrialisation. The places where
they sank back into the ground are marked only by old fruit trees or
scrub, much favoured by shrikes. Occasionally we passed a salaš
where the mud brick walls where collapsing, paint as bright as hope
still visible. Nearer Subotka, as the city is called in Magyor, the salaš became a little more prosperous. They could sell milk and cheese and peppers in the town. They even drove cars observed Djordje with what might have been envy. This whole salaš culture is best preserved in a host of traditional and contemporary songs; from Djordje's stories of his travels by fijaker it seems that life is often little changed along the “summer tracks” across the atar.
Stopping
in the shade about every hour to let the “little one” suckle we finally
approached the city. It is a sight no longer possible in the urbanised
West to see a city's cathedral and art nouveau “rathaus” from 8 km away
across open farmland. As we crunched our way along with a lowering sun
and cooler breeze the city's skyline drew us ever closer. Away to the
left were blocks of flats looking straight out over the crops. To the
left was the centre, a red roofed Reformed church with spire, the more
sombre twin spires of the Catholic cathedral and a host of old shady
trees.
Leaving
Djordje and his team to overnight with friends and prepare for the next
day I went off in search of a bus, feeling a little light headed and
hungry but very happy! “Then man goes out to work, to his labour until
evening. How many are your works, O Lord!”
davesag on flickr posted this excellent snapshot. His caption says these Greek donkeys are carrying the computers to a conference. There are a couple other photos of the same scene in his photostream. Just too cute!
Flickr user Caveman 92223 posted this interesting old photo of the historic twenty mule teams used to haul borax from the mines to the railway back in the late 1800s, in Death Valley. The history of the mule teams can be found on Wikipedia. They were famous in their day due to the enormous size of the wagons and weight of the loads; both the drivers and mules worked in extreme conditions.
This is just a bit of fun, from some video I shot in Brazil. These are Lusitano colts, running loose in large pastures until they grow up and begin training. They are not handled, really, though the trainer you hear whistling spends time with them every day. These colts were so curious and delightful to spend time with!
