The Maiden Voyage

I'm not sure if that's what you call it when you first take a buggy out for a spin or if that title is reserved for sea craft only. I guess I'll borrow the term if you don't mind. This past Monday evening I headed out to Nevada to do some business at our truck wash and to pick up Dan, our buggy horse. It was a productive couple of days out in Wells, NV. I took my harness and shavs out so my dad, who can still fix anything, could fit them properly to Dan. Tuesday afternoon my dad called me to let me know he'd caught Dan to begin the fitting and Dan had re-injured his back leg and wasn't sound. In fact he was favoring it a lot and not getting around to well. I was devastated. Here I finally had my buggy, but now my buggy horse was lame. I came home from the truck wash early so I could see how Dan was and to learn about my harness. I pulled up to my folks home and Pops had Dan tied up and harnessed. Dan is a beautiful dark bay horse. As you can see in the photos he's tall, lean and handsome. My dad came out and he showed me all the adjustments he'd made to make my harness work on Dan. He'd done a lot of work to it and had put hooks on the single-tree so the tugs would stay on. Dan was limping pretty bad. We turned him out for the night.

The next day as I headed into to Wells to spend the day at the truck wash I had a major blowout on the front passenger side of my truck. My front tires were nearing the end of their road but I thought I had at least enough life in them to get me back to Utah. It was a pretty scary couple of moments. I had just entered the freeway at the Welcome exit. I was getting up to speed and something told me I should slow it down, that something wasn't right. As I slowed to about 65 all of a sudden my tire came apart and I was all over the road. I pulled off onto the shoulder and assessed the damage. It wasn't pretty. I learned how to use my jack and the special key that inserts through a hidden hole in the rear bumper to release the spare tire. I'm glad I read the owner's manual. I was about to tear into with my own tools and that could have ended badly. I replaced my over sized tire with the much smaller spare tire and limped myself into town. I decided I needed to replace my tires before heading back to Utah so I took my truck down to Les Shwabb Tires. My buddy Chad sold me some tires that had to come from Elko so I left my truck for the afternoon.

I went with Tabor and our chemical dealer Tommy to see some land and then to my folks house to pick up my trailer and Dan so I could head home when we got back to Wells. As we neared home I remembered that the trailer which actually I'd borrowed from my buddy Jared required a 2 and 5/16 inch ball. I knew Tabor's was a 2 inch. I checked with my dad and he only had a 2 inch. He called my uncle Drew and he had the right one on his dump truck. We headed over their and helped him take it off only to find that it was too large to bolt onto Tabors receiver hitch. Talk about a buggy ride.... We decided to just take it slow and try to keep Dan toward the front to keep the weight on the tongue so as not to dislodge it from the ball. This would have been a little more comforting to do if number one, it was my trailer. Number two if both Tabor and Tommy hadn't rolled trailers themselves with horses in them, and three if the trailer that Tommy had rolled hadn't been the exact model as Jared trailer that we were attempting to do this with! A little stressful to say the least. Did I mention what a buggy ride?

We made it into town with no trouble. I picked up my truck and made the necessary preparations for my journey back to Utah and I left.

I pulled into our yard at about 12:45 am. I unloaded Dan and put him in his corral. I watered him and fed him and wished him well for the evening. He was a good sport through it all.

This brings us to Thursday morning. A tad early I might say. Later in the evening after perhaps 239 requests from Isaiah for a buggy ride, I went out and checked Dan to see how his foot was. I led him around and he walked without a limp. I told him maybe we could take a short ride. I was thrilled that he was sound. I hadn't got my hopes up all day because I knew if he was limping we wouldn't be able to go.

I caught Dan and proceeded to harness him. I backed him between the shavs and Jen held his head while I hooked him to the buggy. Jen captured the experience with her camera. I got on the buggy and we were off...around the neighborhood. I took the first run solo to make sure everything worked out and that Dan was ready for the paved roads of North Ranch. He did fine and we pulled back in to make some quarter-strap adjustments and to pick up my anxious passengers Isaiah and Luke.

Again we headed down the driveway and up the street at Isaiah's requested medium pace. It was wonderful. It was a beautiful evening with a light breeze and a perfect temperature. We clopped along and waved to many of our neighbors and talked with several of them. Isaiah was on the seat with me and Luke was on my lap, between my legs, under the seat and for awhile in the back. It was a juggling act to say the least, to keep the brake on enough going down hills so it didn't run up on Dan, to drive and to keep tabs on a curious Luke. As I pulled up to our driveway I was caught in some indecision as to whether we were going another round or stopping for the evening as it was getting dark. Luke saw our house and wanted to go there. Isaiah decided he'd had enough and I was part way off to another round when I decided to pull into the driveway. We took the turn a bit wide and we nicked the front wheel on the fence corner post. I knew we were close and then I heard a sharp crack and down went the single-tree. I stopped Dan and Jen came out to help me unload my passengers. I unhooked Dan and assessed our broken situation. The tenon joints that hold the brace between the shavs had each snapped. Turns out those two tenon joints were the only thing pulling the entire buggy. Not a real solid design.

I was pretty sad about our unfortunate breakage and what it meant for future buggy rides. I guess at the end of the day it's just another buggy ride.

The Buggy Ride

It's finally here! For years I have spent countless hours searching for the perfect buggy. A month ago I found it on ksl.com and knew right away that it was the one. The only problem was that it was in Colorado and the gentleman I was buying it from was in no hurry to bring it here. It finally arrived this afternoon. Now the only problem is that it's here and my buggy horse is not. Isn't that ironic. As my dear wife suggested, it's like having a new car without the key. Molly's Missile is the name of our buggy horse but we call him Dan. Dapper Dan to be exact. A nickname given by his trainer and former caretaker, aka my dad.

About four years ago I stumbled across Dan and his mother, Crystal's Molly. We had a neighbor in Riverton that had them and couldn't afford to feed them so he was looking for a home for the pair so he gave them to me. They were both very fancy bred Standard Bred horses. Dan's mother died of colic awhile after I took her out to Starr Valley to my folk's place. My dad took a liking to Dan and tried to trade me out of him several times. He started driving Dan and broke him to drive and ride. In the meantime he also utilized Dan's studly qualities and bred his big Belgium mare Goldie to Dan. Dan sired a filly named Anne and a horse colt named Andy out of Goldie. They are a matched pair and will make a nice team for him someday. Little did Dan know, he sort of created a replacement for himself and his presence will no longer be welcome when it comes time to feed hay this fall in Starr Valley. This whole getting fed thing seems to be a theme with Dan. I guess in a way it works out perfectly because we need a buggy horse now to pull our buggy. With the high price of fuel, you never know what may happen. Dan may have a full time job.

Now to the name of my blog. The Buggy Ride. I'm not sure when I first used the phrase. I may have borrowed it from Scot Hazard who often refers to a less than smooth real estate transaction as a buggy ride. It seems that many experiences in my life (especially recently) have been a bit of a buggy ride. That tends to put a negative connotation with the term buggy ride which isn't nearly the case. There is hardly anything more peaceful then a buggy ride down my folk's lane in the evening with my dad at the lines, resolving the problems of the world or whatever issue might be at hand. The crickets singing along with the steady sound of hoof beats and buggy wheels on the gravel road, Boulder Creek passing by, a light breeze blowing the leaves in the trees, the sweet smell of sage brush and wild flowers and a splendid northern Nevada sunset making the horizon glow and the rugged mountains splash with color. That... is anything but negative.

I guess the generalized term of a buggy ride signifies a rough ride, feeling every bump and jolt a long the way and feeling like you've been shaken until you think you may break at any moment. Having experienced both, my preference would be the peaceful version through Starr Valley, but I've probably encountered the latter more often. And so it is, a term with dual meaning. The good version is always good, the tough bumpy version... not always bad but perhaps more challenging. I actually plan on writing a book someday detailing some of my more memorable bumpy rides through life. For now I'll blog away and enjoy sharing them with you, the good and the bumpy.