Appaloosas and Downpours

I ended up riding just fifteen miles yesterday morning but, as typically happens, there was a highlight, so fifteen was plenty. If I head out from here and go up to Western Avenue and make a left, I follow that for a while till I get to Route 158. Just a little bit in on 158, the road goes through the middle of the Watervliet Reservoir, which doesn't sound like much, but at certain times of day can be absolutely beautiful. Morning is one of those times. So is late afternoon. The sun sparkles on the water and the reeds are high and everything is bright green. I always stop on the bridge, slug some water (fresh, not reservoir), breathe and just take it all in. Then it's usually a long trek to 146 and up the big hill into Altamont, before heading back toward Voorheesville. The Altamont-Voorheesville Road is a spectacle in itself, passing below the Helderberg Escarpment at Thacher Park and past Indian Ladder Farms and the apple orchards. If I can't have ocean every day of the week, the scenery in upstate New York will do for a while.

Yesterday, though, I didn't head into Altamont, but back down Western Avenue and home. Other things to do, you know.

Showered and took Shadow for a walk into Voorheesville. He loves romping around in Vly Creek that goes through the park, and I like sitting under a tree, listening to him bark at the water and watching the huge freight trains go by.

By now, you're probably wondering what the "appaloosas" are all about. Well, I have to admit, there was only one and it played a very small part in my afternoon, but I liked the word "appaloosa" so much, I had to include it in the title.

I'd gotten invited to a "barn party," by someone I'd met a while back at another get together at my friend, Diane's, place. So, I went. And Shadow was invited, too, which is a bonus. The party literally took place in a huge barn out in Feura Bush, which is apparently owned by a local bigwhig in car dealerships around here. But I wasn't much interested in who owned the place. I was more into the scenery. The afternoon was gorgeous, and the setting was idyllic. Shadow had a pond that I couldn't keep him out of, and horses trotted around the large field next to us. I know Shadow's seen horses before, but I'm not sure he's ever been so close to one. He wasn't quite sure how to act, but he definitely wasn't afraid of them. While a bunch of us were leaning on the fence and feeding them carrots, Shadow came trotting over, ducked immediately under the fence and started sniffing around eight big, heavy hooves. Not an ideal situation, so I had to resort to tethering him to a tree with a nice, juicy marrow bone for a while.

Even then, it was difficult to enjoy the horses with Shadow barking every time I ventured near them. I was busy petting their soft, snuffly noses when he noticed I was squandering my affections on another animal and barked until I stopped. He's such a mamma's boy.

One of the horses was a brown something-or-other, but the other was an appaloosa named Bam-Bam. All cocoa brown in the front until just in front of his hips, where he turned white with mottled spots. He was eye-catching. And he loved nose-rubs.

I met lots of people and ate lots of food, focusing mostly on the chili, which was probably the best I've ever had. It was someone's birthday, but I steered clear of the chocolate cake. Don't want to waste those fifteen miles, you know. A couple of guys were playing guitar, and there was talk of a band playing, but I guess not everyone showed up, so that kind of fizzled. I really wish I'd brought a frisbee or something, 'cause I started getting restless. I can sit in a lawn chair and chat for only so long, before I need to get up and get moving around. Eventually, I threw off the sandals, got the ball-throwing thing from my Jeep and threw balls around for Shadow, romping around with him in the grass, until I was usurped by a small group of children. And the bare feet, for some reason, prompted a guy to repeatedly remind me that I was liable to get a sliver if I kept walking around those old barn floor planks like that. (No sliver, thankfully.)

Early evening, the sky turned ugly, and I packed up our stuff, said bye to everyone and started home. Made it about half a mile before things really opened up and started raining all over me, my dog, my backpack and my Jeep.

Gotta go. Have plans. More later.