Author Archives: boggtrotter

About boggtrotter

Horses are my life. They keep me alive. I endeavour, to endeavour, as someone once said. I`m no expert, and to be honest its not something I worry about. The reason being, life is far too short.

An Ullswater Sunset.

Winter is here. Well, it’s supposed to be here, but our average temperature is above the normal. It has rained a lot, in fact as I write, it is a deluge.

Long gone are the pleasant days and evenings of our summer. I still ride out, trying to dodge the showers, and soft ground.

It’s a time to reflect and clean leather, some of which is long over due. Vaquero Cream for the Bosal, and saddle butter for the leather. Beautiful smells, a quiet Tack room and the smell of clean leather, dogs laying by the stove, and coffee brewing. Age, I find has its advantages, one of which is the ability to appreciate that which has been ignored before

Bloody Bush

Bloody Bush Monument

After a quiet month, since my last sojourn up Helvellyn, I have done nothing. It has rained relentlessly, strong winds and alternating mild and cold.

Beautiful Scottish Moor.

However, yesterday, I was out!….Friends asked me to ride with them across the English Scottish Border at a place called, Bloody Bush!

On the left is Scotland, and on the right England. The Border.

Bloody Bush!…So named after a violent skirmish between the English and Scottish Reivers and other ne’r do wells! That was at least 500 years ago, now, there stands a huge Monument, where the incident took place. It was also recognized as the ‘Place of Toll,’…..where travellers paid a duty on any goods they had.

So back to the ride. It had rained all the previous day, right up until I arrived at Newcastleton. Just to show I’m a righteous person, the sun came out, together with a stiff breeze, and fast moving clouds. My two friends had also arrived, suitably booted and spurred we set off on a ten mile route across forest and moor, a wonderful ride, my two dogs, and my friends dogs, made it look like a hunting party!

Fabulous day.

Friday 16th September 2022…… Helvellyn.

Helvellyn Summit.

3111 feet high, it commands a central position in the Lake District, a National Park in the UK.

Centuries ago, the Packhorse Routes criss crossed these mountains, carrying Salt, Lead, Graphite and many other useful products to places far and wide, via the sea ports on the west coast of Britain. One such route crossed this Mountain Summit. When we travelled this route, on a warm sunny day, although by the time we reached it, it was bitterly cold, the first signs of winter flowing South on a North wind. As I turned my collar to the cold, I felt my horse Toby, agree. Time to head down.

Great ride, and spectacular views.

Views from the summit. Red Tarn below, and Ullswater in the distance.

Long Live The King!

I write this with a heavy heart, Her Majesty the Queen, Elizabeth 2nd has passed away .

No doubt everyone will have some thoughts on the matter but for me? I am a Veteran, I served during a time of turbulence, terrorism and aggressors, so nothing has changed, except the names and dates. Elizabeth was the one constant in my life, and dare I say, in all of our lives. I served Queen and Country, it was my choice, and I have never regretted doing so. I was born in the year of Accession to the throne, of a young Queen, beautiful and small of stature, she was to become a beacon for all people in our Great Nation. I for one am very sad at her passing, we will never see her like again. That is a sad fact, she was the last of those with great respect, and dignity, not only for Politicians and other Leaders, but for us, the small people. She gave me a strength, a sense of Nationhood, and to her I shall be eternally grateful. God Bless you Ma’am.

The Cost.

I hear it all the time from folks, saying how?….”I can’t afford a horse, it’s so expensive!”

I tend to be of the view, that it’s only as expensive as you want it to be, and what you want. You could just buy a nag, a horse that will do most things, but in other people’s eyes, ain’t worth a shit. It all depends on you. Rescue horses, they’re all out there, just look. Keep your costs low by being self aware, learn how to be your own veterinarian, as far as you can. Don’t waste money on gadgets and trends. But most of all, don’t listen to those who think they know better than you, as there’s plenty out there. Do your own thing, be honest with yourself and the horse.

Sunset on Ullswater

Sunset above Ullswater

A late afternoon ride with friends turned into a late home ride in the dark.

We waited until the last rays of the sun sank behind Blencathra, then we dawdled away back to Scales Farm.

A beautiful evening marred by absolutely nothing. Even the rising of the Blood Moon, was extraordinary, it was a calm Red or in the night sky, as I drive home.

Toby did his job tonight despite his night blindness. He strode out from the group, occasionally he stumbled, but he immediately corrected himself. A good horse. Or should I say, a fine horse in new country.

Stravaiging

Mounthooley Bound!

I have often ridden over areas of land, that I thought were free to roam by us none landowning proletariat. Not so it seems, to my everlasting shame, I have been ignorant of English Land Law. While Scotland has a Right to Roam Act, England alas, has not. The saving grace in all this, are the myriad of Bridleways and Footpaths, Permissive Ways and so called Green Lanes. These are historical rights of way, built up over generations, but sadly, are being little used by the Smart phone weilding public.

I fear that in the years to come, landowners will find any excuse to rid ‘their’ land of the footfall, of multiple visitors to the countryside. Horse riders, now afeared, due to heavy vehicular traffic upon the roads, reduce themselves to Arena work and competitive rides, where traffic isn’t an issue. This is to the loss of all horse riders. However, there are a few intrepid persons, intent on claiming back the Bridleway et al, I include myself in this, we must never give up on these highways of the ancient Packhorse and Tinkers Cob.