I surveyed The Potential New Training Facility with the Trainer. She’s vibrating with happy energy. We were standing in the parking lot, from which you can see practically the entire property. It’s a privately owned breeding barn, no boarders, complete with fully functioning separate barn to lease out to Trainer. The lease details are worked out to everyone’s satisfaction. All that remains is her signature. I can see she’s already in virtual moving mode: unpacking things in her brain, arranging horses and gear.
This is absolutely the right place. Her business had quickly outgrown my boarding barn. She’s good. Makes me happy that other people see HOW good.
Facility has everything she needs in a good training barn. Huge arena, excellent footing, incredible owners, hot walker, turn outs, a ginormous (covered, lit) round pen….and the holy grail of Training Barns everywhere: hot/cold water wash racks AND washer and dryer. Oh, and full size fridge and freezer. (No more ice trips!)
Man oh man. I’m happy. But also a bit sad. I’m going to lose the Hudson-Vision that’s run in the background of all my barn days. That was a perk, but definitely not a deal-breaker. Obviously, I’ll still see him.
“What do you think?”, she says, correctly reading my dropped jaw to mean this place is AWESOME.
“I think it’s fabulous”, I say, without an iota of hesitation.
We’ve already checked out the feed: top quality. Paddock water troughs cleaned weekly. Stall auto-waterers are huge, not the chin dippers, and cleaned out bi-weekly. Place is immaculate. Horses are drop dead gorgeous. Healthy, obviously well cared for.
“Any issues?”, she says, hoping she hasn’t missed anything.
“Just one that I can think of?”, I say, gazing lingeringly at the property from the parking area. “You realize we’ve stood here for 45 minutes, just staring, right? Do you think we will ever go to work?”
We both crack up. I continue.
“I think we’ll park, and then spend at least 30 minutes checking the tightness of our shoelaces. Right. Here.”
“Wanna risk it?”, she says, clearly understanding I just said: where do I sign up?
“I’m good with shoelace obsessing”, I say.
We crack up again.
That was a few months ago.
We’re all moved in. Everyone is happy. There’s a winery across the street. We’re surrounded by grape vines and apple orchards. Since its private property, no rider has misused the fantastic standing offer by neighbors to ride along the rights-of-way that cut through the vines, orchards and fields. TRAILS.
I took these cell photos yesterday morning, from the parking lot.
Riding in this arena feels like a cross between flying
and riding atop of the Great Wall of China.
Who cares if you missed a cue? LOOK AT THAT VIEW. (There may be a few horses taking advantage of this.)
Check out the orangish row dots at lower right. Wine grapes. Hills of them. Maybe Hudson could use a teeny tiny bit of training after all?
Life is good. The people are exceptional. The horses, fantastic.
And I have the Best. Shoelaces. Ever.