Thanks to Some of My 2011 Venues

The community in Hampton CT. on Memorial Day

                 The Orr Family at Fort Hill Farms, Thompson , CT.  www.forthillfarms.com

                                                                                   
                               The Northeast Regional Cowboy Mounted Shooting Competition
                                     www.masixshooters.com   www.ctrenegades.com

              The Guilford Fair Donkey and Mule Show  (CT) www.guilfordfair.org

The Lippitt Show - Tunbridge, VT.  Lippitt Morgan Horses www.lippittclub.net 
  Karen Swanburg and  Mint Black Jack shown  www.cherryledgefarm.com

                         Ocean House at Watch Hill Rhode Island   www.oceanhouseri.com

                                     Stories in the Portable Pantry  Rochester New Hampshire

                             The Big E - New England's State Fair  - Springfield, MA. www.thebige.com

One of my 2011 projects VoiceMail is reported on in this blog. Dec 26 is the next VoiceMail at 7 p.m. with my Holiday Epic tale Christmas Spirits being shared: www.carolynstearnsstoryteller.blogspot.com/2011/07/willimantic-brewing-company-and.html

2011 I was also active with the Connecticut Storytelling Center www.connstorycenter.org here is the blog on the annual Festival and the workshop I did:
www.carolynstearnsstoryteller.blogspot.com/2011/05/report-from-30-th-ct-storytelling.html

Move over John Wayne, look out Clint Eastwood

( rider: Tim Stearns)

What did you accomplish over the weekend in 16 seconds?

In cowboy mounted shooting, the fast action rodeo type equine sport 16 seconds is a good run. For the Ct. Renegades State Championships Sept 18 & 19, 2010 Cowboys and Cowgirls from all over the Northeast descended on Enfield, Ct.'s Round Tuit Ranch for some high stake thrilling runs. http://www.roundtuitranch.com/ Each competitor rides six patterns or stages in a championship and the accumulated time and penalties for missed targets settles out the placings sometimes by 1/100 of a second.

BLANKS are used for ammo and all are provided by the competition to insure the safety of the event. A Rangemaster - combined referee and safety official is in the ring to direct the riders and officiate. The guns are Colt 45 type as used in the Old West and in the Rifle Division a Revolving Carbine or Lever Action 45 Long Colt, ( remember the Rifleman TV show?)

Costume is a big part with dress requirements to be clothing of the 1880's or from the Silver Screen Stars of the West. They take the costuming serious with penalties for a ride in inappropriate dress. For this reason we always have at least one photo club on the rail taking pictures. Their lens catching the flaming end of a pistol at dusk, the flared nostril of a horse, the sweat stained brim of a cowboy's hat and the windswept manes.

Over in the announcers booth I am calling out the time each course is completed in and more importantly the next few riders. With a new rider needed in the ring every couple minutes we have to have them ready and waiting or lose audience to long boring waiting time and even worse not finish all the rides before dark comes. http://www.carolynstearnsstoryteller.com/

Where can you catch up with this fast action sport? There are clubs in almost every state. We belong to the Connecticut Renegades http://www.ctrenegades.com/ There are any clubs in the Northeast and you can find all the sites on the National Association website http://www.cowboymountedshooting.com/

A favorite competition in the Northeast is called Border Wars. The two day event pits Ct. riders against our neighbors in Mass. in a fun two day cowboy weekend, at stake a red and black flag and the right to fly it at the forthcoming years events. Saturday the Mass Six Shooters http://www.masixshooters.com/ host the event and Sunday the Ct. Renegades. A new venue will welcome riders this year, Goss Farm in Dunstable Mass. will be the site on Oct 30-31, 2010. http://www.gossfarm.com/ I can't wait for the weekend. ( good weather only won't risk injury to horses or riders in slippery conditions) The friendly competition, campfire and BBQ, the storytelling around the fire, Cowboy Church Sunday morning and a second day of competition before we all go back to the 21 st century, shake the dust from our chaps and hang up our spurs until another weekend.

Dedication and Insanity Meet pt. 4 Daybreak's Story

We had nothing left to do but load the horse and drive back, except....Daybreak hates horse trailers has a history and a no I won't load, game on his agenda. Here on this back road on the Mass. New Hampshire border I do not want to be part of a 3 hour loading event. Our trailer is new to us by just a week, not long enough to paint the black interior white. It is a gaping black hole I know our horse won't have any inclination to step into. The farm owners, my brother and the police are having quite a time talking about the events of the night as I ponder getting this horse back into the trailer and back to the host farm. Tim indicates that his Cowboy Mounted Shooting pistols ( http://www.cowboymountedshooting.com/ ) are securely locked in the truck cab and the trailer is ready for a horse. I ask an officer to move a cruiser and use a spotlight mounted on the door to light up the interior of the trailer as Daybreak is not likely to step into the dark hole. He smiles and obliges happy to see us taking steps to move the horse out of the street. I am envisioning the long effort to get him on. Don't think we haven't tried all the training techniques, natural horsemanship skills and equipment on a given day all have worked or not worked because it is not a fear issue it's a chess game and Daybreak is the equine equivalent of Bobby Fischer!

With the police lights still flashing their split second rotations and the night amazingly lit by them and all the headlights it is a rather festive aura over the street with the happy reunion of horse and rider. Daybreak knows when he has an audience, it is a valuable tool in his arsenal of make the owner look foolish any chance you get. Tim leads him to the trailer and he loads in a split second. I leap forward and close the butt bar to secure him and then the ramp and upper door we are set to go. My relief is huge as I climb into my truck cab with Cindy the owner of Bridge Meadow Brook Farm, our hosts. Tim and his uncle pull away with trailer and again as we drive I marvel at how far our crazy horse went to party. Cindy is graciously playing down her part in this adventure of lost sleep and worry. I am incredibly grateful to everyone and we talk a little about the night. It is here that she tells me the police clocked Daybreak on the radar gun down the yellow lines of the road at 42 miles per hour. He is a hot rod, cruising speed until the police come along side and then gunning his engine to sprint ahead hooves pounding pavement like a racing heart in the night. He came out to play his top game and found worthy opponents in those brightly lit cruisers. Cindy reported the awe with which they spoke of Daybreak and how in disbelief they heard his age and could not believe this was an old horse. Of course 25 in a Morgan Horse isn't old, it is seasoned to perfection. It is experience to bank on and practiced flash and gamesmanship. Score one for the Morgan Horse and Zero for the Tyngsboro police. It was only by using cruisers to build a chute in the street and another to race him there that they effectively drove Daybreak up the road and into the field. They never would have been able to lay a hand on him, it wasn't in his game plan. I am grateful Daybreak didn't consider jumping the cruiser like the loose horse in the Disney classic "Horse in the Gray Flannel Suit" That movie horse and Daybreak would have been fast friends in more ways than one!

We roll up the long dirt road that leads back under the pines of Bridge Meadow Brook Farm. My brother parks the trailer and he and Tim go to unload Daybreak, NO! he stays in, we have had all the games we are going to play for one night. Remember Daybreak hates trailers, he shows his displeasure with this decision by having a 2 year old tantrum. He begins jumping up and down in the trailer rocking it and making it move. The emergency brake is set but I can just see it in my now vivid imagination the trailer and truck rolling back into the swamp and me getting wet feet, again. I open the front door, "knock it off!", and settle down I croon to him and shine a flashlight on his face. We give him hay nets and water buckets and I tell him, " Sorry old boy you are in for the night!" I send Tim to bed in the tent, you can't ride safe with no sleep, go now it is 3 a.m. I send my brother as well, he needs to drive the truck safely home after the days competition. I lower the truck tailgate and wait for Daybreak to settle down so I too can garner a couple hours of well earned rest. If the flashlight beam drops from Daybreak's face the jumping resumes, I can't believe he is carrying on so. Get over it, a few hours in the parked trailer won't kill you if a night racing the police hasn't. Still the bouncing continues and so I get comfortable figuring a few minutes he will give it up, I'm delusional!

At 6 a.m. the tent zipper made the long whine of opening, I didn't hear it. My brother stepped out into the gray of early morning and the cold nip of the frost that was settling. Mid October is sure to paint the pumpkins and anything else a laced coat of white in the night. What he sees makes him go back to the tent, retrieve his camera and take a picture. I am there on the truck tailgate flashlight in hand curled up asleep under frosty saddle pads. There is a point when you can sleep anywhere, I found it that night. There is not one thing to be said for sleeping on a corrugated metal tailgate that's good! I had a foam pad under my head and saddle pads over me. They are wool and sort of warm although short on coverage. I am allergic to horses, the hair can't be good but warmth was more important than a clear head. Daybreak is happily munching hay, he nods a greeting. Not long after we are all awake. Once Tim is functional we decide we have to see if Daybreak is lame, a run on tar at 42 mph would do that. No he is fine. down in the ring he is enjoying the rubber added surface and jigging and showing off. A story of police escapades and missed adventures is carried through the slowly waking camp. A couple hours later we are back at the field of competition at Bridge Meadow Brook Farm. More and more riders are hearing what went on in the night and come over to ask in disbelief. Soon the guns are shooting the balloons and the riders come and go from the field. It is Tim's turn, I stand in the announcers booth watching him come into the field, jigging still. I announce," Our next rider is Tim Stearns and his horse U.C. Jailbreak! The laughter ripples around the field. I assume that the tired pair will do the course in a slower than usual time and yesterdays gains would be history. A few seconds later they flash past the final rodeo timer and a new best time is posted for the pair. The whole day was like that, me announcing the rides of U.C. Jailbreak, the story floating about the field. Riders looking at the old horse through new eyes and evaluating, there is more there than meets the eye!

Dedication to the sport my son had fallen in love with and getting them to participate fully brought us to Bridge Meadow Brook Farm, Insanity helped me through the crazy night and still see that the day should go on, sleep or not.

Post Script: Daybreak is enjoying semi-retirement at home with a eye on the gate in case we forget to clip the second lock on it, could be a party tonight, your place or mine. This blog was written in response to his sires induction in the Ct. Morgan Horse Hall of Fame June 11, 2010.( http://www.ctmorgans.org/ ) At age 32 U.C.Ringmaster filled the ring at the Big E Fairgrounds ( http://www.thebige.com/ ) with the eternal energy and showmanship of a Morgan Horse. ( http://www.morganhorse.com/ )

Dedication, One Step From Insane

That lump, you see it on the tailgate? Well that's me, and I ended up sleeping there. I have to say it wasnt really sleep the body just stopped functioning. It had been a long day of announcing at our cowboy mounted shooting competition. I was also cheering on my son Tim and his horse U.C. Daybreak. They were really coming into their own and it was showing at this October 21,2007 competition. This sport requires great athleticism on the part of horse and rider, add a little excellent timing and precision aim, throw in some 1880 costumes and you have a good start. Riders shoot balloons with BLANKS out of real Colt 45 type guns. There are 10 balloons and 10 blanks provided by the competition for safety. There is a pattern you must follow or strict penalties are incurred. Then there is the clock ticking away, timing your every stride and breath. Tim and Daybreak did 4 patterns or courses that day and had made some significant improvement on time. We would wait and see what day two of the Border Wars competition would bring. ( http://www.ctrenegades.com/ http://www.masixshooters.com/ )

Night fell and the riders and horses got settled into camp. Picket lines and portable corrals were set up everywhere on the grounds of the beautiful Bridge Meadow Brook Farm Tyngsboro, Ma. and the night air, that crisp autumn air of October laced with a hint of woodsmoke and barbeque settled over us. Down by the pond and river riders began to gather and share in a trailside Barbeque to rival any westward expedition. The food was incredibly good and the company the best and the music began. Later into the evening I began to share stories having worked up some good spooky tales and horse stories to share with our cowboy friends. It was everything a night at the bon fire could be and then some, for the magic of that eve lingers with me now, several years later.

Finally we all drifted toward our camping or night arrangements. My brother had come along with us hauling the horse trailer and we had set up a nice tent. It had been 30 years since I had camped out with my brother, how fun! Tim opted to put his sleeping bag in the horse trailer to stay right next to his horse. Daybreak was secured to the side of the trailer with leads clipped to his halter a huge net full of hay and buckets of water. Just a couple feet away his partner layed out a sleeping bag where he could hear the munching of his horse and the busy day was quick to claim its reward of sleep. It was near midnight when I finally had finished prep for the morning and put away gear from the damp night air and run the long zipper of the tent and sleeping bag. I lay in the absolute darkness waiting for sleep to capture me and instead my eyes were wide and I realized just what a loud eater our Daybreak was. From the rip of a mouthful of hay from the bag to the minute or two of crunch and munch to the next rip. How incredibly annoying to be this tired and have to listen to that. My brother was long since stolen by sleep and his breath came quiet and slow. There were few sounds from camp an occasional stomp of a horse or the babble of the river passing through.

The next thing I know I was waking from a deep sleep almost drugged feeling. So incredibly tired my body felt heavy and pressed into the earth beneath my sleeping bag. Glow face on my watch said it was 1 a.m. I had only been asleep less than an hour and I had to use the bathroom. I tried to forget it and go back to sleep. The lovely green port-o-let was a long walk down the dirt road, I was to tired, no I had to go now. I noted there is no quiet way to unzip a sleeping bag or a tent but neither woke my brother, he always has been able to sleep through anything, at the moment envy stole over me! Outside the tent I look into the darkness toward the road and decide to look at Daybreak first. I step around the truck and trailer and back, then jump back toward the trailer and look again in the darkness of 1 a.m. HE'S GONE!

In utter darkness I ran around the trailer to where his friend Beau is tied, no not with him, and down the dark dirt road to the workout ring, no Daybreak here either. I am standing in panic near the port-o-let and hate to waste prescious seconds but have to step inside. The plastic door closes and there is not one spec of light, this is a new level of darkness I have never experienced. Finished I race up near the house where more horses are sleepily wondering who the madman is out running around in the night and they chew on, undisturbed, none report any sign of friend Daybreak. I race back up the road to the trailer and kick at my sons feet, " wake up Daybreaks gone, get Uncle Steve up while I go down to the competition field and see if he's there."

Down a long road over the bridge and on under such deep pines the stars are obliterested and I come to the path into the field where we spent the day competing. My eyes adjust to an increase in light, no horse, just the cars whizzing by so close on Rte 3 the State highway crossing from this northeast corner of Massachussets into New Hampshire, Oh God please no ! I could not envision our beautiful boy out on that highway and a panic rose up with acidic hands and clutched my pounding heart. (C) This ends part 1 I will be posting part 2 on Wed June 16 click on follow to be notified when the second half of my story is published.