One Horse Power Snow "Machine"
During this time of above average temperatures (103 here yesterday with DP making it feel like 110) which most of the country seems to be experiencing, I decided thoughts of winter and snow might be appreciated.
Winter in Vermont is the way winter ought to be. Deep snow which lasts. Crisp, nose-pinching air, long sparkling icicles dangling from the eaves, and FUN.
We had the perfect coasting hill on the farm. Long enough and steep enough for a good trip down in the toboggan, with a bump about midway for thrills. Large landing field with no fence or trees at the bottom where the sled coasted to a stop.
We also had some flat fields covered in deep snow. I had a horse.
I had trained Signal myself for riding. Somewhere I came upon part of a driving harness. It was not a work harness but rather a bridle with long reins and a circingle with brass loops on top for the reins to run through keeping them high above the ground. We did not have snow-
mobiles then. I do not think they had been invented yet. So one day I got the idea that skiing behind my horse would be fun. I had not taught Signal to drive as I had no sulky or sleigh. But I put a Western saddle on him with the circingle just in front of it. I fitted the bridle to his big grey head, slipped the bit into his mouth and ran the long lines through the loops. Out into the snow we went. Cold weather always made Signal frisky. He was not sure how all this was supposed to go-
the bit and reins familiar, but with me walking behind him rather than sitting on his back. He tossed his head, tried to trot, but responded to the tug on the reins and resumed a walk. After a few minutes I decided this was not going to be any problem at all. We did not need several driving lessons--Signal was okay with this new mode of transportation. (Pretty obvious that while I was basically good with animals, I was also pretty green and naive about what it took to communicate with them).
I brought out an old pair of skis from the attic. No fancy bindings with fast release. Just two shaped wooden "planks" with a leather strap to fix them to one's boots. Signal stood quietly as I tied a rope to the horn of the saddle and then ran the end to within a couple of feet in back of the waiting horse. At first I intended to just hold the tow rope in my hand, then thought that might be too difficult when also managing the reins. So I tied the tow rope around my waist. Signal walked mincingly down the plowed path to the field. He kept turning his head to look back at me wondering "What on earth?" Then we arrived at the open field--snow about two feet deep. I clucked to my
horse --"Gentlemen, start your engines". Signal tossed his mane and
leaped out into the field in full gallop. Clods of snow flew back into my face from his hoofs. I could scarcely see where we were headed.
In fact it was all I could do to stay upright on the speeding skis.
"Whoa --whoa" I screamed. Signal was having too much fun. He even bucked-throwing up his heels nearly in my face. I pulled on the left rein thinking to turn him and slow him down that way. Signal did turn--sharply. The skis dug pointed-toe down in the soft deep snow.
Splat I went, face first, still holding onto the reins for dear life but unable to free my self from the tow rope. Luckily the old leather straps on the skis broke and my feet were free of them. Signal dragged me, plowing the field in winter, for several yards before responding to the drag on the reins. Once he stopped, I was able to catch my breath and get up. I quickly untied the tow rope from my waist before Signal
could decide to go for a gallop again. I rolled up the long reins, petting and talking to my horse, then climbed up in the saddle and rode back to the barn.
No injuries to Signal or to me. But I learned a most valuable lesson that day. You cannot take short cuts when training animals. Time and patience only--even with the brightest and most attentive animal, alone will produce good results.
I did go "back to the drawing board" and first train Signal to drive.
We enjoyed some great winter days later that year as he towed me on skis with a safety release ski binding and with a quick release knot on the tow rope, across some snow covered fields.
And no smell of gasoline--no loud roar of engine. Just the swoosh of skis on snow and an occasional snort as my one horse power engine
cleared his nostrils.
Winter in Vermont is the way winter ought to be. Deep snow which lasts. Crisp, nose-pinching air, long sparkling icicles dangling from the eaves, and FUN.
We had the perfect coasting hill on the farm. Long enough and steep enough for a good trip down in the toboggan, with a bump about midway for thrills. Large landing field with no fence or trees at the bottom where the sled coasted to a stop.
We also had some flat fields covered in deep snow. I had a horse.
I had trained Signal myself for riding. Somewhere I came upon part of a driving harness. It was not a work harness but rather a bridle with long reins and a circingle with brass loops on top for the reins to run through keeping them high above the ground. We did not have snow-
mobiles then. I do not think they had been invented yet. So one day I got the idea that skiing behind my horse would be fun. I had not taught Signal to drive as I had no sulky or sleigh. But I put a Western saddle on him with the circingle just in front of it. I fitted the bridle to his big grey head, slipped the bit into his mouth and ran the long lines through the loops. Out into the snow we went. Cold weather always made Signal frisky. He was not sure how all this was supposed to go-
the bit and reins familiar, but with me walking behind him rather than sitting on his back. He tossed his head, tried to trot, but responded to the tug on the reins and resumed a walk. After a few minutes I decided this was not going to be any problem at all. We did not need several driving lessons--Signal was okay with this new mode of transportation. (Pretty obvious that while I was basically good with animals, I was also pretty green and naive about what it took to communicate with them).
I brought out an old pair of skis from the attic. No fancy bindings with fast release. Just two shaped wooden "planks" with a leather strap to fix them to one's boots. Signal stood quietly as I tied a rope to the horn of the saddle and then ran the end to within a couple of feet in back of the waiting horse. At first I intended to just hold the tow rope in my hand, then thought that might be too difficult when also managing the reins. So I tied the tow rope around my waist. Signal walked mincingly down the plowed path to the field. He kept turning his head to look back at me wondering "What on earth?" Then we arrived at the open field--snow about two feet deep. I clucked to my
horse --"Gentlemen, start your engines". Signal tossed his mane and
leaped out into the field in full gallop. Clods of snow flew back into my face from his hoofs. I could scarcely see where we were headed.
In fact it was all I could do to stay upright on the speeding skis.
"Whoa --whoa" I screamed. Signal was having too much fun. He even bucked-throwing up his heels nearly in my face. I pulled on the left rein thinking to turn him and slow him down that way. Signal did turn--sharply. The skis dug pointed-toe down in the soft deep snow.
Splat I went, face first, still holding onto the reins for dear life but unable to free my self from the tow rope. Luckily the old leather straps on the skis broke and my feet were free of them. Signal dragged me, plowing the field in winter, for several yards before responding to the drag on the reins. Once he stopped, I was able to catch my breath and get up. I quickly untied the tow rope from my waist before Signal
could decide to go for a gallop again. I rolled up the long reins, petting and talking to my horse, then climbed up in the saddle and rode back to the barn.
No injuries to Signal or to me. But I learned a most valuable lesson that day. You cannot take short cuts when training animals. Time and patience only--even with the brightest and most attentive animal, alone will produce good results.
I did go "back to the drawing board" and first train Signal to drive.
We enjoyed some great winter days later that year as he towed me on skis with a safety release ski binding and with a quick release knot on the tow rope, across some snow covered fields.
And no smell of gasoline--no loud roar of engine. Just the swoosh of skis on snow and an occasional snort as my one horse power engine
cleared his nostrils.
Comments
Post a Comment