Winter Horsekeeping

We moved to Iowa in 2000. The first several winters were not the midwest winters I remembered from growing up in Illinois in the 1970's. But last year brought a return to the weather of my youth. Sub-zero stretches, and, even worse, thaws followed by hard freezes that turned the barn yard and dry lots into skating rink footing. This year has been better by an order of magnitude, maybe only because we aren't into the thaw-freeze cycle yet. I can't remember if that was a February-only or winter-long phenomenon.

This winter, I've been determined to ride in all but the coldest weather, and so far have mustered the discipline to do it. I don't ask Mandi to work in the single digits or colder, for fear of damaging her upper-respiratory, but otherwise we're at it 4 to 5 days a week. We're both a bit tired of the indoor; a thought best not dwelled on considering we have at least two months to go before footing outside will safely accomodate horse feet.

What I'm willing to risk has changed over the years with my age and with circumstance. During the Montana winters when I didn't have access to an indoor arena, I began legging-up Bud in March when we still had snow and ice on the ground. My main memories of those rides are the times we unknowingly ventured onto ice sheets under a thin layer of snow. Bud would skitter desperately for a moment to keep his feet under him and get back to solid ground while I froze in the saddle to avoid affecting his balance. Both of us shot through with adrenaline, we'd stand and re-group a moment before continuing on across the Plum Creek (the Burlington Northern timberlands) ground that bounded the homestead on three sides.

Yesterday I thought about this, looking out the arena doors to the snowy hay meadows. I may take Mandi out in the fields this week. She will drift-bust on the lead line, so maybe she will be brave under saddle, too. I think we can follow a line that's free of ice, and a bit of time free of a training agenda would be a treat for us.

Dressing for the cold is its own talent. It's also the most drudgy aspect of wintertime horse-keeping. It does, however, become easier as the cold weeks wear on. By this point in the season, donning fleece breeches, two pairs of socks, turtleneck, wool sweater, fleece vest, and a riding-weight jacket is an auto-pilot process. I also wear an old Talbot's wool knee-length coat over everything until I'm ready to ride. And on chore-only days, a pair of quilted, insulated over-pants.

The horses also endure winter clothing. Because they are pastured with a three-sided shelter they seem uninclined to use very often, I keep them blanketed all winter, to reduce the effect of the wind chill. When temps drop into the single digits, I double-blanket. Yesterday afternoon I put Jill's fleece liner on and dressed Mandi in a light-weight insulated stable blanket under her heavy turnout blanket. She had been in a fleece liner, but her shoulders are recovering from rubs and I didn't want the new hair damaged with the friction of fleece. I've put Bag Balm on both mares' shoulder points, and will be watching to see if the rubbing remains confined to hair loss. So far, no inflammation or skin abrasion.

Today will be a chore day only. This morning we have a -3 air temp with a -19 wind chill advisory. I love loading the hay feeder in winter and seeing my mares gain weight, even in the severe cold. The round bale ran out last week and the family that owns the barn where I board hasn't had a chance to load in another, but there is a loft full of square grass bales and I still have a two or three weeks' supply of alfalfa bales. So Mandi and Jill's internal combustion heaters have round-the-clock fuel; a very good thing.