A visit south of Ione to the lovely Rusty Spur Ranch.
Really fun drive out there, over rolling chaparral hills. My kind of pretty. The sort of place people go to dump bodies. Increasingly deserted.
Ione itself, a tiny village. An old, sleepy, town. Their cemetery – established in 1850, advertised proudly with a big sign. 164 years, they still have vacancy.
They even have their own ghastly, ghostly castle. Preston. Kid you not.
At the barn though, there was no sleepiness. Rode a little red racecar. New model. Her first ride in this dressage saddle.
Disproportionate hind and front end, a bit tight, choppy stride. Warp speed racing canter, neck curled under. Perhaps not the prettiest head. Her coat curled with sweat after the light workout in the shaded arena. A body still like a 3-year old.
With all this, of course I fell for her. Had to go back to see again! She was just as fun… Now what to do!?