Coming Back from a Scare

Our ponies can make us complacent around them because they are so friendly and calm which makes coming back from a scare challenging.

They happen to all of us.  Accidents are part of life as equestrians. From getting a toe stepped on when picking hooves to coming off when riding or even getting run over when in a herd situation, accidents happen.  And they often cause us to start approaching our ponies differently.  Sometimes we’re more cautious, sometimes more forceful, sometimes more tentative, sometimes angry.  I was talking to a friend, and he said his first thought was to be angry.  I on the other hand after a scare feel unconfident around my ponies despite having them in my life for more than two decades.  I think that these differences between the genders are common.  Though we may differ in how we express ourselves, the underlying truth is we may be afraid.  What do we do to get back to enjoying being with our ponies again?

I have certainly had to walk this path back to feeling safe being around my ponies.  More than once.  I have learned that the first thing on the path back is to honor the fear, not try to muffle it or ignore it.  It’s important to be safe and to take appropriate action when we don’t feel safe.  Don’t get back in the saddle.  Don’t enter the stall.  Don’t walk in the pasture.  Not until we have a strategy to feel safe again.

Part of that feeling of safety is trust.  Trusting ourselves to make better choices.  Trusting our pony not to hurt us.  Trusting ourselves to know when a pony is safe to be around or when it’s not.  There is a great discussion of trust between horse and human in the February 8, 2022 Mastery Horsemanship blog post by Don and Rachel Jessop (click here).

Then I’ve learned that baby steps work best.  Thinking of our previous routine and finding one small thing that still feels doable is a great place to start.  Haltering a pony is an example, keeping in mind that this in itself is a multi-step process.  Or just offering the halter and lead rope to our pony for them to sniff.   Even just letting a pony sniff our hand over a fence could be a good way to get started.  Fences are our friends when coming back from a scare.

Because our ponies tend toward the quieter side of the temperament spectrum and often like to engage with us, we can forget that they are much larger than we are and have independent minds.  Our ponies can therefore move instantaneously if so motivated, whether we are in the way or not.  I heard a clinician say once that it’s important to have equal parts draw and drive, meaning that while we want them to come to us, we also want them to go away from us when we ask.  With our ponies, it is easy to have more draw than drive.  We need to make special effort to sculpt that drive away to keep ourselves safe.

In a herd or pasture setting, I have also learned the importance of ‘getting big.’  If my herd starts approaching me at a run when coming toward me and I get concerned for my safety, especially from playful youngsters, I will flap my arms away from my body to make it clear that I want them to stay away from me.  I will use my elbows similarly when distributing hay in a paddock for the herd.  With stallions I will sometimes use a plastic bag on the end of a whip or a flag or a stick-and-string to ‘get big,’ creating a larger space that I don’t want the pony to enter unless invited.  If I have visitors who are not pony-savvy, I will carry a flag to create space around them since they aren’t aware they need to do it for themselves.

That my ponies are so interested in ‘talking’ to me when they see me makes stewarding them so enjoyable.  Yet there are times when I have to approach them in new ways.  And I have to ask them to approach me in new ways to keep our relationship healthy.  Relationships with ponies, and all things, are a process not a destination. There’s always work to do!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2022

Variations in Equine Spinal Columns

I have always found the wide range of neck and back lengths in Fell Ponies baffling. A new study about other breeds helped me be less baffled!

One of the things that I’ve found baffling about Fell Ponies since I got involved with the breed is the amount of variation in the lengths of necks and backs in our ponies.  I have seen necks both long like I’m accustomed to seeing on riding horses and then shorter and stronger like I’ve seen on draft horses.  I have seen short backs and long underlines on some ponies and ponies called sausages by their owners because of their long barrels between front and back legs.  I had thought that with a standardized breed, a closed stud book, and an emphasis on proper type in the breed description that there would be more consistency in conformation in our ponies.

 You’ll understand then my interest in and then fascination with a study that came out recently involving warmbloods, Koniks, and Shetlands.  The study looked at variations in spinal columns and ribs within and across breeds.  I had read early in my horse-crazy days that Arabs have fewer vertebrae than other equines, but I thought that breed was an outlier.  I was wrong!  The study put in new context a comment I once received about a photo of one of my Fell Ponies.  I was told that old timers would have said the pony had an extra rib and/or vertebra.  At the time, I dismissed the comment as impossible, but now I’m understanding it with new appreciation.

 The study, done in The Netherlands, looked at 30 Warmbloods, 29 Shetland ponies, and 18 Konik horses.  It was done post-mortem by computed tomography without associated information about the individual equines when they were living.  And because of limited access to the cadavers used in the study, the necks of the equines were not included in the study.  While the study was looking at the outset at Warmbloods, the Shetland and Konik were included because they were considered more primitive breeds against which it was hoped comparisons could be made.

 The abstract says, “The as-standard-described-equine-formula of 18 [thoracic], 6 [lumbar] and 5 [sacral] vertebrae was seen in 78% of Konik horses, but only in 53% Warmblood horses and 38% Shetland ponies.”  (1)  Here was the first ah-ha moment:  the ‘as-standard’ count of vertebrae is anything but standard!  There’s variation, especially in the one pony breed studied.  In fact, the Shetland showed more variation in many of the measurements taken.

 Then the discussion of number of ribs showed similar findings.  While 90% of specimens had 18 pairs of ribs, Shetlands varied in a few specimens from 17 to 19 pair, while the other breeds didn’t have this wide range.  One Shetland had different numbers one side to the other. 

 Like any good study, the authors came up with as many more questions as they answered.  For instance, did some of the differences seen in Warmbloods result from selective breeding for back mobility?  Did any of the noted differences have implications for performance? 

None of the three breeds in this study are closely related to the Fell Pony, but the variations in findings certainly suggest that there would be variation in the Fell Pony spinal column as well.  Given that our breed has been valued for its ability to be used in a variety of ways (ride, drive, draft, pack), it also makes sense we could have variation in the underlying anatomy.  Overall, I am grateful for the revision to my understanding of the ‘as-standard’ formula for equine vertebrae.  I highly recommend reading the full paper, a link to which is included in the footnote (or click here), if you are at all interested in this topic; I’ve just scratched the surface here regarding how varied equine spinal columns can be.

 1)      Spoormakers TJ, Veraa S, Graat EA, van Weeren PR, Brommer H. A comparative study of breed differences in the anatomical configuration of the equine vertebral column. Journal of Anatomy. 2021;239:829–838. https://doi.org/10.1111/joa.13456

 © Jenifer Morrissey, 2022

Packhorse History in The Duddon Valley

View up the Duddon Valley from the old packhorse track and coach road over Bleabeck Bridge.  Courtesy and copyright Maggie B. Dickinson

The Duddon Valley in the southwestern part of the Lake District in England is a place where the Fell Pony’s history is both visible and invisible at the same time. It is visible because of the historic use of ancestors of our ponies as packhorses. Features associated with packhorses and the industries that packhorses supported are numerous in the valley. These features include packhorse bridges, the remains of mills, inns, and mining activity and iron smelting, and there are Woods. The Fell Pony’s history in the Duddon Valley is invisible in the sense that stories of this valley sometimes ignore the presence of agriculture and industry and the early horsepower that made it possible.

A book about the early iron industry in the southwestern part of the Lake District noted similar visibility and invisibility.  From the book Furness Iron: 

The Lake District we now see is the Lake District that Wordsworth, Coleridge and their followers taught us to see – a largely natural landscape unsullied by human hand.  Yet all the historical and archaeological evidence shows that Cumbria has been shaped by the human race for millennia in pursuit of settlement, hunting grounds, agricultural and pastoral land, religious observance, warfare and industry.  In particular, the agricultural and industrial activities have left their widespread mark on the countryside…. (1)

The Duddon Valley was the favorite of William Wordsworth in particular.  His most famous poems are often considered to be the Duddon Sonnets, thirty-four pieces celebrating the valley from headwaters to estuary that he wrote between 1804 and 1820.  To see a video with excerpts of the sonnets and actual scenes of the river, click here.

The Duddon Valley lies within the Lake District National Park which became a World Heritage Site in 2017.  The World Heritage Site planning documents are based on three themes:  inspiration, conservation, and identity.  Inspiration refers to how the Lake District inspired artists and writers of the Picturesque and Romantic movements.   Conservation refers to the global movement of protected areas and recreational experience, a movement that is said to have begun in the Lake District.  Identity refers to the agropastoral and industrial past and present of the Lake District. 

Wordsworth largely ignored the agricultural and industrial aspects of the valley, in some cases even disparaging them, such as describing the remains of a mill in Seathwaite as “a mean and disagreeable object.” (2)  As Wordsworth scholar Saeko Yoshikawa has written, “For Wordsworth the variegated Duddon was an epitome of the Lake District as a whole, guiding us to appreciate its beauties and counselling their protection for the years to come.”  (3)  Here we see an emphasis on the Inspiration and Conservation themes.  Thank goodness for the Identity theme, home to the more practical aspects of the valley, for it allows the role that the ancestors of today’s Fell Ponies played to become visible.

The map here shows the 25-mile reach of the River Duddon, with the valley approximated in pale yellow.  The River Lickle is shown in the mid-lower right; the packhorse-related history of the Lickle Valley was covered previously.  Click here if you would like to read that article.  I am grateful to my colleague Maggie B. Dickinson for her generous sharing of photographs and research about the Duddon Valley’s packhorse-related features.

The Duddon Valley map shown here indicates the rough locations of features that are related to the historic use of packhorses.  While ‘packhorses’ is the usual term, history says they were ponies by stature since they were usually less than 14hh.  A stout but shorter equine made it easier to lift heavy panniers onto the pack saddles.

Black lines are roads, either modern or ancient.  Often modern roads follow the same routes as historic tracks because they were found over time to be the most efficient way to get from point A to point B.  Maggie wrote in her article “Bridges of Cumbria County” in Cumbria magazine, “[Until] the turnpike roads, canals and railways rendered it uneconomical, the transfer of goods went via packhorse, the hilly routes being preferable to negotiating badly-drained valleys.” (4) 

A 2009 collaborative project between the Duddon Valley Local History Group and the Lake District National Park has substantial information about the Duddon Valley.  It is called Ring Cairns to Reservoirs: Archaeological Discoveries in the Duddon Valley, Cumbria.  ‘Ring Cairns’ refers to the many sites in the valley dating back two to three thousand years, and reservoirs refers to modern development at Seathwaite Tarn.  Ring Cairns to Reservoirs the document echoes the preference Maggie mentioned about the location of packhorse tracks: “[Ancient track-ways] are well above the level of the valley floor which, prior to land drainage, would have been boggy and impenetrable.”  (5)

Paul Hindle, in his book Roads and Tracks of the Lake District says, “Before the construction of the turnpike roads, most goods had to be moved around the Lake District by packhorse – indeed it is likely that before 1750 it was impossible to get most wheeled vehicles westwards from Kendal…  Along the packhorse routes trains of up to thirty horses, each carrying loads of up to [220 pounds] would move in single file.  They went from one village to the next, along routes which had been in use since early medieval times, and which in most cases are still used as roads today.  Thus, the majority of these routes have been overlain by more modern roads.” (6) 

The Duddon Valley from Kiln Bank.  Copyright and courtesy Maggie B. Dickinson

On the map, ‘Grounds’ are shown.These are farms with historic associations with Furness Abbey during the monastic period.The packhorse-related history of Furness Abbey was covered previously. Click here if you would like to read that article.Maggie considers the monastic era to be the beginning of significant use of packhorses for moving goods.In one of her articles in Cumbria magazine on packhorse history, she said, “Vital markets and fairs were established to satisfy the commercial needs of a growing consumer society that was centred on the abbeys, priories and castles.Packhorses were fundamental to that economy, moving commercial goods and the necessities of life on their backs, or dragging heavy goods on sleds.…Records of many such routes, still traceable on foot, can be found in abbey documents.” (7)Places like Grounds, then, as part of the Abbey’s network, would have been serviced by packhorses.

‘Woods’ were forests managed historically for making charcoal and other woodland products.  Charcoal was the fuel source for iron smelting, an early and prominent industrial activity of the Duddon Valley.  In Windermere Reflections, a 2012 archaeology report produced for the National Trust, it is noted how the Woods were used in the medieval period when packhorses would have been the primary transporters.  “The Furness Fells were primarily utilised in the medieval period for their woodland and iron ore. Substantial areas were cleared of trees to make charcoal, and associated with the woodlands were charcoal burning pits and platforms, as well as bloomeries for smelting the iron.” (8) 

Ring Cairns to Reservoirs points out that Woods produced more than charcoal.  “The wood that was obtained through the woodland industries was not all used for making charcoal…  Bobbins were needed in vast quantities by the Lancashire cotton mills from the early nineteenth century and the bobbin mills of south Cumbria supplied most of their demand.” (9)  Maggie says, “These bobbins were sent to the Lancashire Cotton Mills in the mid-1800s, and at this time the packhorses were still in full swing in such remote areas.” (10) 

Robert Gambles in his book The Story of the Lakeland Dales expands on the products produced in the Woods.  “Other ancient industries of these Duddon woodlands included the making of ‘swills’ or all-purpose baskets, bark-peeling for the tanning industry, the manufacture of barrels, casks and kegs (the cooper’s trade) and of hoops to go with them, the turning of handles for farm and household implements, the brush-making industry and the cutting of timber for fuel.”  (11)

Interestingly, many of the woodland industries eventually suffered from competition from imports.  Furness Iron says, “…bulk imports of poles and bark from America drove down the demand for these other woodland crafts.” (12)  Nonetheless, in their era, packhorses would have been crucial means of transport for these woodland industries.

The original side of Bleabeck Bridge in the Duddon Valley which was extended from its original packhorse width.  Copyright and courtesy Maggie B. Dickinson

‘Bridges’ are either known to have packhorse associations or are worthy of further investigation for packhorse associations. Bridges have the most obvious connections to packhorses and they have been the most researched and identified. However, some bridges have yet to be given the credit that they deserve. Maggie has found many that are not yet on the most common lists of packhorse bridges or in books about them. Bridges are considered to be packhorse bridges when they are on a known packhorse route, have low parapets to allow paniers to pass over them, are narrow, and were built during the packhorse era. The packhorse era is generally considered to have been prior to about 1750 when the turnpike roads began to be constructed in earnest, though in places road improvements didn’t come until much later, so packhorses continued in use.

On the map, mines, quarries, and drifts are shown.  Drifts are near-horizontal mine shafts following beds or veins of ore.  We do not have clear information about the dates of the workings of these mines, quarries, and drifts.  Hence we don’t specifically know which ones would have been serviced by packhorses.  The locations of mines, quarries and drifts on the map come primarily from Ring Cairns to Reservoirs. (13) 

Pitsteads are remnants of charcoal making platforms in the Woods.  Their locations are also from Ring Cairns to Reservoirs, which says about them, “On sloping ground these were often supported by retaining walls on the down-slope side. Over a hundred such platforms were recorded on the western side of the Duddon Valley alone.”  (14) 

Not shown are the remains of bark peeler’s huts which the local history group has also mapped. Bark was peeled to be used in the tanning of leather. It is possible that packhorses would have been used in the movement of bark.

The Newfield Inn in Seathwaite has packhorse era connections and is known for its floor made from slate from Walna Scar quarry.  Copyright and courtesy Maggie B. Dickinson

‘Inns and halls’ are places of lodging and eating/drinking with known packhorse associations.  These inns would of course have been near a known packhorse route.  Additionally they would have had a place for the packmen to sleep, had enclosed grass paddocks for the ponies to graze in overnight, and had space under lock and key for the packs to be stored.

‘Mills’ were usually water-powered so are found along water courses and were used for corn as well as for processing wool and cloth.  Other mills made wood products.  Ring Cairns to Reservoirs says, “Wool was not the only material used to produce fabric. We know that flax was grown to produce linen, and hemp for rope, sackcloth and rough ‘homespun’ fabric. The stalks of both these crops needed first to be soaked until the fleshy stems had rotted to release their coarse fibres. This was undertaken in ‘retting ponds’. The fabric produced from these plants also needed to go through a fulling process.” (15)   A fulling mill was where raw material was soaked in a mixture of water and urine and then walked on to cleanse and rid the wool of impurities.  Prior to good road access, packhorses would have brought raw materials to the mills and taken finished products away to market. 

Bloomeries smelted iron ore with charcoal as fuel.   Furnaces followed bloomeries as iron smelting facilities.   Ring Cairns to Reservoirs says, “At least two medieval ‘bloomeries’ (smelting sites) are known in the valley and it is likely that more await discovery….  Iron ore was most likely brought from the rich deposits in neighbouring Eskdale and smelted with charcoal which was produced by felling the small scrub trees on the lower fells and burning them in covered pits.” (16)  Iron ore during the medieval period would have been brought to the bloomeries by packhorses, and charcoal would have made the short trip from the Woods to the bloomeries similarly.

Remains of a potash kiln near Stephenson Ground in the Lickle Valley.  Copyright and courtesy Maggie B. Dickinson

‘K’ marks the possible location of potash kilns.Bracken and brashing (trimmed lower limbs of trees) were burned to make potash for making soap.Ponies would have been used to pack or sledge the bracken and brashings to the pit or kiln and then possibly to take the potash to the soap makers.The book Furness Iron suggests that potash production could have been underway as early as the 14th century.(17)

Ring Cairns to Reservoirs reported “Once spun, wool needs to go through a ‘fulling’ process whereby it is cleaned and pounded to produce a cloth with a close-knit weave. Cleaning was traditionally undertaken using lye soap. This soap was made from a fine, potassium-rich ash or ‘potash’. The potash was produced by local farmers to supplement their income. Most was produced from burning harvested green bracken which is very rich in potassium sulphate, although sometimes wood was used. During the survey we recorded a number of potash pits where such burning may have taken place. We also recorded several well-constructed potash kilns in varying states of preservation that were certainly used for this purpose.”  (18)

‘P’ marks the locations where peat was cut and stored to be used as fuel or where evidence of its transport has been found.  Ring Cairns to Reservoirs says, “The boggy sections of open hillside offered a further resource in the form of peat. Peat was cut for fuel until the beginning of the twentieth century. This was a valuable resource, and to take peat you had to have the legal ‘right of turbary’.… We noted many locations where peat cutting and transport had taken place and an unexpected number of previously unrecorded storage huts or ‘peat-scales’ remaining nearby.” (19)  We know that ponies were used in the Shetland Isles to pack peat.  Ring Cairns to Reservoirs, however, suggests that in the Duddon Valley peat was usually sledged.  It is possible then that ponies were used in this way.

A mare I once owned, Newfarm Valencia, has a connection to the Duddon Valley.  Her sire was born at the Tarnbeck Stud which at one time was located near Seathwaite.

Finally, shown on the map is the location of the only Fell Pony breeder in the Duddon Valley with lasting impact on our breed.  The Tarnbeck Stud even has connections to North America; a mare I once owned was sired by Tarnbeck Lightning. Another Fell Pony connection to the Duddon Valley comes from Bob Orrell, author of the Saddle Tramp books. His mare Jewel came from Dunnerdale.

If we begin, as Wordsworth did in his Sonnets, at the top of the valley, then we will first see the important mountain passes of Wrynose and Hardknott.The source of the Duddon is at the base of Wrynose Pass.These two important passes were traversed by a Roman road connecting two of the approximately 25 Roman forts that were built in Cumbria from AD71 to AD383.The Roman roads in Cumbria were remarkably straight in most places.These are in contrast with the later packhorse tracks which tended to follow grades to make it easier on the loaded animals.And while the Roman roads connected the Roman forts, the packhorse tracks tended to connect market towns, quarries, mills, and farms.

Plate from the 1842 book Rambles by Rivers of the headwaters of the Duddon near Wrynose Pass. (20)

According to Maggie’s research, the Roman route over Wrynose and Hardknott passes was known as Smuggler’s Road and is believed to have been the last of Cumbria’s packhorse roads.  During monastic times, this route would have connected the Furness Abbey properties in the Langdales east of Wrynose Pass with other of the abbey’s properties in Eskdale west of Hardknott Pass.  Maggie considers the monasteries to have been significant users of packhorses for trade.

Norman Nicholson, another Lakeland poet, confirms that this route was likely unnavigable by more modern conveyances until relatively recently when he said of the route, “I first went in 1929.  Above Seathwaite, two-thirds up, you did feel you were getting something about as remote as Iceland.  The road didn’t go beyond Cockley Beck then – [Hardknott and Wrynose] passes were just wild tracks – and there wasn’t much of a surface between Seathwaite and there anyway.” (21)

Cockley Beck Bridge in an 1883 etching by Harry Goodwin (25)

Michael Hartwell in his book An Illustrated Guide to the Packhorse Bridges of the Lake District says about Roman road building at the head of the Duddon:  “The tenaciousness of the Roman engineers who made this road must have been incredible because their technique of driving roads along straight lines came to an abrupt halt after they left Little Langdale.  To be suddenly faced with, and have to negotiate, Wrynose and Hardknott Pass must have set them back on their heels and presented them with seemingly insurmountable problems.  One can imagine them encamped in huddles, trying to work out the easiest and most practical way of pushing a road over terrain which was, to all intents and purposes, unpassable.  But they did it, and when they dropped down in to the flat-bottomed Esk Dale Valley, they could revert to their traditional method of road building.  I’m sure that they would have celebrated with a flagon of local brew.” (22)

Robert Gambles, in his book The Story of the Lakeland Dales, says of the top of the Duddon Valley during the Roman age, “As [the Roman legionary] pounded out the miles of Highway Ten between Ambleside and Ravenglass, his route from Wrynose summit to Hardknott Fort ran alongside or within sight of the infant Duddon, a spectacular but arduous stretch of this short and hazardous road.Along Wrynose Bottom we may follow in his footsteps on the north bank of the river.We cross the river where he crossed it – first about a mile or so from the Three-shire Stone, a second time just beyond Gaitscale Close, and finally at Cockley Beck Bridge.Here the Roman road parts company with the Duddon as it swings in its steep zig-zags up to Hardknott Pass.Except for short distances where it coincides with the line of the modern road, the Roman highway is now only a somewhat boggy footpath.” (23)

Michael Hartwell says in his packhorse bridge book, “Although Cockley Beck Bridge is not a true packhorse bridge, it is almost certain that a packhorse bridge did originally span the river at this point, for this is the main link between the Langdales and Esk Dale.”  (24)  Cockley Beck Bridge crosses Mosedale Beck, a tributary of the Duddon.

The 1842 book Rambles by Rivers says about Wrynose Pass, “When only pack-horses were used for the conveyance of goods in these parts, [Wrynose Pass] was the main road from Kendal to Whitehaven, a fact the stranger who sees it finds some difficulty crediting, so rough and acclivitous is it.” (26)  Kendal and Whitehaven were significant towns in their day, with Kendal being the center of the wool and other trades and Whitehaven being an international port on the Irish Sea. 

Robert Gambles in his book Echoes of Old Lakeland says that tobacco and spices were carried by packhorses from Whitehaven to Kendal for the snuff industry.  (27)  Paul Hindle, in his book Roads and Tracks of the Lake District, expands on this: “One rather curious industry has specific routes associated with it, and that is the manufacture of snuff, which became important in the eighteenth century.  The tobacco was imported at Whitehaven, and two ‘snuff pack roads’ have been identified…. The second went further south through Egremont and Gosforth, over the Hard Knott and Wrynose Passes to Ambleside [to] the centre of the industry at Kendal….  These routes were never used solely for transporting snuff or rather the raw tobacco used in the process.  It is likely that these routes were more widely used for the movement of supplies of illicit spirits from remote western Lakeland to the towns further south and east!” (28)

While much focus is on how packhorses entered and exited the top of the Duddon Valley, there is also evidence that packhorses turned south into the valley after crossing the passes.  For instance, Ring Cairns to Reservoirs says, “Unlike most other forts in the area, Hardknott does not appear to have attracted a vicus (civilian settlement) around it. The soldiers would therefore have looked to the surrounding settlements, including those in the Duddon Valley, for supplies and services.” (29)  And Gambles in Echoes of Old Lakeland says, “[The Langdale to Broughton-in-Furness packhorse route] linked the farms of the Langdales with the markets at Broughton.  The route followed the main packhorse trail over Wrynose to Cockley Beck where it turned off [to follow] the River Duddon as far as Birks Bridge to take the track to Grassguards, Stonythwaite, Wallowbarrow and the valley routes to Duddon Bridge and Broughton.” (30)

A mine is shown southeast of Cockley Beck Bridge.  This mine was located via a map called ‘Detailed Old Victorian Map 1888-1913.’ (31) This Old Victorian Map says this mine is Cockley Beck Copper Mine, at that time disused.

Birks Bridge as illustrated in Wild Lakeland by MacKenzie MacBride and illustrated by Alfred Heaton Cooper, published 1922-28.  (33)

Coming down the Duddon Valley on the map, we next encounter the packhorse bridge called Birks which crosses the river where it runs through a deep gorge.Birks is considered an authentic packhorse bridge with its narrow width, low parapets, and proximity to known packhorse routes.The name comes from the birch trees in the area.Hartwell says in his packhorse bridges book, “Birks Bridge is a true packhorse bridge and was a busy link between the Duddon Valley and Esk Dale.It is highly probable that the footpath which skirts around Harter Fell [west of Birks Bridge], and goes over to Boot in Esk Dale, is the original route used by the packhorses of old.” (32)This route isn’t shown on the Old Victorian Map so isn’t shown on the map here, unless it is referring to the route described below that goes to Boot north of Ulpha.

According to David Ross, editor of the Britain Express website, “The narrowness of [Birks Bridge] has caused some problems over time; according to a local tale there was a resident of Birks who used to go into the Newfield Inn in Seathwaite for drink or three, and when he tried to drive his horse and cart home after too much to drink he would regularly become stuck on the bridge.”  (34)  In a nod to the Romantic perspective and the Inspiration theme, Hunter Davies, in his book A Walk Around the Lakes, says “"the hump-back stone bridge seems itself to be a work of nature, blending and melding so well with the rocks either side." (35) 

Two of the Woods west of Birks Bridge shown on the Old Victorian Map are Little Coppice and Long Coppice.  Furness Iron says, “Some woodlands were being coppiced by at least the 14th century, both for charcoal burning and for the full range of other woodland industries” (36)  Furness Iron goes on to say, “The [Duddon Blast Furnace] used charcoal as fuel, and the need for  increasing quantities led to the management of the Duddon woods on a coppice rotation system. The coppice poles were cut on a cycle of between 14 and 25 years and were cut to length, stacked, covered with turves [plural of turf] and burnt on platforms constructed in the woods.” (37)

Next down the valley we come to the Seathwaite area.  Seathwaite Bridge crosses Tarn Beck.  According to the well-regarded website Old Cumbria Gazetteer, this bridge has been widened and dates from the 18th century. (38)  It is a listed (historic) bridge but hasn’t been identified, yet, as a packhorse bridge.  It is shown on the Old Victorian Map as being on a foot path connecting the upper Duddon Valley and its packhorse features with the Walna Scar Road, a known packhorse route to slate and other quarries.  The many mines and quarries around Seathwaite Tarn are shown on the Old Victorian Map as being accessed by paths connecting west to the upper Duddon Valley or south to the Walna Scar Road.

Southeast of Seathwaite Tarn we see a marker for peat.  This area near Longhouse Close is where Ring Cairns to Reservoirs found peat tracks, and the Old Victorian Map shows peat moss. (39) There is also a feature on the Old Victorian Map called Stallion Head, perhaps harkening back to the use of horses or ponies as power to harvest the local resource.

Tarnbeck Black Prince was born in the Duddon Valley. Copyright and courtesy Ruth Eastwood

Here we also see the only modern day connection to the Fell Pony breed. The Tarnbeck stud began at Tongue House below Seathwaite Tarn and was named for the beck that flowed past. The Tarnbeck stud was later moved further south in the Furness region. While the Tarnbeck stud is the only one to have a lasting impact, prior to 1981 the ‘Duddon Valley’ prefix was registered to Mr. T.A. Ellwood. However, no ponies that carried that prefix contributed to our modern population. A Fell Pony stud with the prefix Dunnerdale that produced ponies in the 1960s and 1970s was not located in the Duddon Valley.

Near to the location of the Tarnbeck stud is another indication of the working of peat.  Ring Cairns to Reservoirs shows an aerial photo of an old peat track in this area.

In Seathwaite, the largest settlement in the Duddon Valley, the packhorse-associated features are an inn, a pitstead and a mill.  The inn is still operating and dates from the sixteenth century.  Called the Newfield, it is known in part for its beautiful floor of Walna Scar slate.  The Ring Cairns to Reservoirs project found that a mill for carding wool previously operated on the site of the Newfield.  (40)

Wordsworth once wrote, “Upon the Seathwaite Brook at a small distance from the parsonage, has been erected a mill for spinning yarn; it is a mean and disagreeable object…” (41)  Wordsworth reportedly stayed at the Newfield, so one wonders if this is a different mill than the one mentioned by Ring Cairns to Reservoirs; wouldn’t Wordsworth have mentioned the Newfield by name rather than made reference to the vicarage? 

In 1842, the authors of Rambles on Rivers visited the site of the mill mentioned by Wordsworth and “found it with its roof partly fallen in, its wheel broken; and on trying the door, its hinges rusted from long disuse, gave way.  The machinery, too, though in appearance undisturbed since it was last used, was decayed, the web crumbling at the slightest touch.  Our poet, were he to visit it now, might find new matter for reflection on the changes wrought by the progress of invention, which has rendered this as obsolete as it made unaided hand-labour.” (42) 

Surrounding the Newfield Inn, there are several Woods, so the presence of a pitstead nearby for making charcoal isn’t surprising.  According to Ring Cairns to Reservoirs, “The ‘thwaite’ ending of the name Seathwaite also denotes clearance of woodland in the Norse period.” (43)

The Park Head Road also commences its journey south at Newfield.   This road makes its way to Stephenson Ground in the Lickle Valley.  Kerry Harvey-Piper’s family is the current owner of Stephenson Ground.  She shared the following about “…the old packhorse route which leads from The Newfield in Seathwaite up to the lower slopes of Caw, and then over the saddle of the moor before dropping down to Stephenson Ground.  I know that it’s a very old track, as it’s part of the network that connects Caw quarries with what we call Park Head Road which also connects up the old quarries beneath Stickle Pike.  

“We’ve been told that there was a small settlement along the Park Head Road which acted as a trading point - there are plenty of large piles of stones which are obviously the remains of small buildings/shelters.  I’m not sure how well a parson would have been received there, as we’ve heard anecdotal tales of it being a stopping off point for ‘refreshments’ of many different kinds!!” (44)  Kerry shared the rough location of the trading point which is shown on the map here.  On the Old Victorian Map, a spring is shown at this point, a feature that would surely be an attraction to travelers and those intent on serving them.

Downstream from Seathwaite and across the river, in addition to Woods and pitsteads, we see an indication of peat again.  Ring Cairns to Reservoirs found good examples of peat-scales or storage huts at Copt How. 

Hall Bridge in 1890.  It has since been rebuilt.  Its location and appearance beg the question of whether it was originally a packhorse bridge.  Photograph by Herbert Bell (45)

The next settlement down the river is called Hall Dunnerdale.  In this hamlet is Hall Bridge which was rebuilt in 1938.  The bridge connects two roads on either side of the river.  A photograph from 1890 of the previous bridge, included here, sparks the curiosity, when paired with its location, about whether the older bridge was a widened packhorse bridge.

Continuing down the river are several Woods and pitsteads and then quarries and drifts up the fell side. Just upstream from Ulpha, a tributary of the Duddon comes in, Crosby Gill.A track follows the Gill towards Eskdale in the next valley northwest. An 1847 description of the route says, “From Ulpha the road to Eskdale lies over a desolate Moor, abounding in peat. Passing through the village of Crosbythwaite, having in view Hest and Birkby Fells on the left, at the base of which runs a tributary of the Duddon; Birker and Harter Fells on the right.” (46)Two bridges cross Crosby Gill upstream: Crosbythwaite and Woodend. Woodend Bridge is especially intriguing because it has been extended from an original clapper bridge, a style of bridge that Maggie says is a type built during the monastic period. Eskdale would have been a destination from Furness Abbey. In addition, this route could have been used for woolen products and was likely used for iron ore, according to Ring Cairns to Reservoirs.(47)

Closer to Ulpha, Crosby Bridge crosses Crosby Gill.  Its location suggests at one time a packhorse bridge was at this point, if such a bridge is not the current one.  Upstream a short distance is an old corn mill.  Across the river is an area called Kiln Bank, including High, Low, and Far, suggesting there may have been potash kilns in this area. 

Ulpha Bridge over the River Duddon is probably a replacement of a packhorse bridge, according to Maggie.  Copyright and courtesy Maggie B. Dickinson

Ulpha is an old word for wolf.  In Ulpha is Ulpha Bridge over the River Duddon, which Maggie says is probably a replacement of a packhorse bridge, though further study is needed.  Below Ulpha, Holehouse Gill, a tributary of the Duddon, joins the river.  Upstream on the gill is a former bobbin mill, not surprisingly surrounded by Woods.  There is a ford across the gill below the mill.

Bleabeck Bridge was originally a packhorse bridge and then was widened to accommodate coaches.  Copyright and courtesy Maggie B. Dickinson

Slightly farther downriver we see Blea Beck joining the Duddon.  Upstream on Blea Beck is Bleabeck Bridge which allows the route between the mill on Holehouse Gill and a mill on Logan Beck to the south to cross Blea Beck.  Bleabeck Bridge is considered a packhorse bridge.  Maggie says that packhorses crossing Bleabeck Bridge would have been servicing Duddon Furnace (more on this below.) (48)

The Old Cumbria Gazetteer website says the more recent history of this bridge has to do with coaches and railways.  “This bridge carried a long- established rural routeway through the parish of Ulpha.  Between 1844 and 1845, the route was used as a coach link for the railway line then in the course of construction, and intended to pass through Broughton-in Furness to join the Whitehaven and Furness Junction line.  This horse link was indicated in the railway timetables of the period.” (49) 

Farther up Holehouse Gill and north is a former copper mine.  Ring Cairns to Reservoirs says about this site, “Mining and quarrying in the valley had also developed from small-scale origins. The spoil tips and ruined buildings on the southwestern flank of Hesk Fell are all that now remains of a copper mining industry that was of great economic importance for a short while in the nineteenth century.” (50)

The ruins of Frith Hall from Bleabeck Bridge showing the old packhorse and coach route.  Copyright and courtesy Maggie B. Dickinson

Visible from Bleabeck Bridge are the ruins of Frith Hall which also has packhorse connections.An article in the Kendal newspaper The Mail in 2019 said about Frith Hall, “The hall was built in the 17th Century as a deer hunting lodge for the gentlemen of the Hudleston family of Millom Castle. In the 18th Century it became an inn and in 1730, 17 marriages were held beside the fireside. It was also a hostelry for packhorse teams and their drivers, some of whom would be smuggling brandy, rum, tea, tobacco, soap and other high duty goods illegally imported into Britain via the Isle of Man and Whitehaven. Their cheaply available strong drinks made Frith Hall a lively and at times violent place. A story is told that a man was murdered here and his ghost haunts the ruins.” (51)

On either side of the Duddon in this reach we see a bloomery on the map.  The one to the west is in Forge Wood; the one to the east is in Yewbarrow along Cinder Hill Beck, named perhaps for the production of charcoal in the vicinity.  In Robert Gambles’ book The Story of the Lakeland Dales, he writes, “In the name ‘Forge Wood’ we make our first acquaintance with the small ‘bloomeries’ or smelting hearths of the early years of this industry.  Ulpha Forge was worked in the late 16th and early 17th centuries by the Hudleston family who appear to have become quite prosperous on the proceeds….” (52)  During that period, packhorses would have been a likely mode of transportation for charcoal and ore.  The Ring Cairns to Reservoirs project dates the bloomery at Cinder Beck to the medieval period, also likely to have been ‘powered’ in part by packhorses. (53)

Further south on the west side of the river we see another bloomery at Beckfoot. Maggie has written, “Iron production at Cinder Hill, and at Beckfoot by Logan Beck, carried on in a modest way until the building of a superior charcoal-fired blast furnace at Duddon Bridge in 1736. To this, ore was fetched from a wide area by packhorses.” (54)

Remains of an inn on High Whineray Ground with the remains of a packhorse track sunken in the foreground.  Copyright and courtesy Maggie B. Dickinson

Also in this reach of the Duddon, we see numerous Grounds, with historic links to Furness Abbey and its use of packhorses.Southwest of Frith Hall is Whinfield Ground.On the other side of the river in close proximity to each other are High and Low Whineray Grounds.Maggie explored a route with an improved-though-now-aged surface in the vicinity of High Whineray Ground where there was supposedly once an inn that served the packhorse routes between the various Grounds.

On the east side of the river, Parson’s Road is labeled.  Also known as Priest’s Path, the Ring Cairns to Reservoirs project said, “The two parishes [Ulpha and Seathwaite-with-Dunnerdale] reveal fascinating evidence of the routes used by people to move around the landscape on foot, horseback and in horse-drawn vehicles….  In some cases the route-ways are now seen as little more than well-worn or sunken paths. Others, however, are solid and well-engineered tracks such as the ‘Parsons’ or ‘Priests’ path that winds from the present day Duddon Valley road to the slopes above Stonestar and then on to Broughton Mills.”  (55)  A close look at the Old Victorian Map shows this route leading between the lower-valley area of the Duddon to Pickthall Ground in the Lickle.  The name of the route alone is enough to link it to the monastic period!

The original side of the now widened Beckfoot Bridge.  Copyright and courtesy Maggie B. Dickinson

Logan Beck, another tributary to the River Duddon, comes into the river from the west.A tiny settlement called Beckfoot sits at this confluence.Beckfoot Bridge crosses Logan Beck just upstream of the river.It is considered a packhorse bridge, now widened, carrying the route from north to south.Maggie says that in addition to the remains of a bloomery, there is also an old corn mill in Beckfoot.There was also once a sawmill.

Up Logan Beck from Beckfoot is the tiny settlement of Beckstones, now an outdoor school.  Here we find another bridge and another mill, this time a fulling mill for cleaning wool.  This bridge also carries the north to south route connecting, for instance, Whinfield Ground with Duddon Bridge.  The bridge today may not be the one that existed during the packhorse era.  Ring Cairns to Reservoirs says, “Good examples [of fulling mills] can be found at Beckfoot Mill and at Logan Beck. At the height of the woolen industry many corn mills were converted into fulling mills when this became the more lucrative business.”  (56)

Rawfold Bridge has been extended from its original packhorse width, crossing the River Duddon just downstream from Beckfoot and the confluence of the river with Logan Beck.  It connects the important routes descending the valley on either side of the river.  Courtesy Maggie B. Dickinson by her friend Maureen Fleming

Just downstream from the confluence of Logan Beck and the Duddon is Rawfold Bridge. Maggie says, “This magnificent bridge has been extended and links with Beckfoot bridge, which is next to an old water-powered Corn Mill (now renovated), a saw mill and a network of ways serving other purposes.” (57)

The remains of Duddon Furnace which operated on and off for 230 years. This relic of the industrial past of the Duddon Valley is one of the few that merited mention in the World Heritage Site planning documents.   Copyright and courtesy Maggie B. Dickinson

Just below Rawfold Bridge are several Woods. The Old Victorian Map shows names for these Woods such as Willy, Harry, Stanley, and Ivenscar, then Sheep Shank and Broadbutts.And then comes the large Furnace Wood that is just north of the most well-known of the Duddon Valley’s industrial relics, Duddon Furnace.It is one of the best-preserved blast furnaces in England.

Duddon Furnace was built beginning in 1737 and operated on and off for 230 years depending on availability of fuel and the labor to make it.  The book Furness Iron says, “Ore for Duddon Furnace… was transported overland from mines in Low Furness to Ireleth on the Duddon Estuary.  From here it was shipped to wharves near Duddon Bridge and then taken by road to the ironworks.” (58)  In many places, that overland and road transportation when carts weren’t possible would have been done by packhorses.

A mill is shown on the map near Duddon Furnace.  The overflow of the headrace (diversion from the river) that fed the furnace fed this adjacent but later bobbin mill.  Also shown on the map is an inn.  Maggie points out that today’s Dower House has connections to packhorses.  Its website states, “The Dower House is a delightful, late Victorian Country House built on the site of a medieval packhorse inn.” (59)  You might expect that with a settlement name like Duddon Bridge that a packhorse bridge might at one time have crossed the river here, but I haven’t found any information about such a bridge.

Robert Gambles in The Story of the Lakeland Dales quotes Wordsworth as saying the Duddon is “the most romantic of our vales.” (60)  Certainly the following oft-quoted stanza from Wordsworth’s Duddon Sonnets reflects the poet’s romantic view of the valley:

I thought of Thee, my partner and my guide,

As being past away.-Vain sympathies!

For, backward, Duddon! as I cast my eyes,

I see what was, and is, and will abide;

Still glides the Stream, and shall for ever glide;

The Form remains, the Function never dies.

In the World Heritage Site planning documents, the only nod to the Duddon Valley’s industrial past is mentions of Duddon Furnace and locally produced slate.  Yet as we can see from the many research projects cited here, the Duddon Valley has a much richer history than just as an inspiration for poets and other artists and for conservation.  It is a reflection of a great deal of human work that has made not only the valley but the entire Lake District what it is today.  And packhorses, many of whom were the forebears of today’s Fell Ponies, assisted with that work.

---

1.       Furness Iron:  The Physical Remains of the Iron Industry and Related Woodland Industries of Furness and Southern Lakeland, 2013, p. 77

2.       Thorne, James.  Rambles by Rivers:  The Duddon, The Mole, The Adur, Arun, And Wey, The Lea, The Dove.  London:  Charles Knight & Co., Ludgate Street, 1844, p. 28.

3.       Yoshikawa, Saeko.  “A Guide that does not Guide: The Duddon Sonnets as a Guide to the Lakes.”  Paper presented at 42nd Wordsworth Summer Conference held at Ryda1 Hall, Cumbria, UK, on the 11th of August 2013.

4.       Dickinson, Maggie B.  “Bridges of Cumbria County,” Cumbria, September 2010, p. 15-19

5.       Ring Cairns to Reservoirs:  Archaeological Discoveries in the Duddon Valley, Cumbria. (R2R)  Duddon Valley Local History Group, 2009, p. 36

6.       Hindle, Paul.  Roads & Tracks of the Lake District, Cicerone Press, Milnthorpe,  Cumbria, 1998, p. 123

7.       Dickinson, Maggie B.  “Drunk in charge of a packhorse,” Cumbria, November 2016, p. 13-17

8.       Windermere Reflections: Fulling Mills In Easedale, Grasmere, Elterwater, Great Langdale And Graythwaite.  Oxford Archaeology North, 2012, p. 35

9.       R2R, p. 68

10.   Email from Maggie B. Dickinson to Jenifer Morrissey, 4/27/21

11.   Gambles, Robert.  The Story of the Lakeland Dales.  West Sussex:  Phillimore & Co., 1997, p. 79

12.   Furness Iron, p. 11

13.   The locations of mines, quarries and drifts on the map come primarily from Ring Cairns to Reservoirs.

14.   R2R, p. 62-4

15.   R2R, p. 69

16.   R2R, p. 11

17.   Furness Iron, p. 6

18.   R2R, p. 68

19.   R2R, p. 64

20.   Plate from the 1842 book Rambles by Rivers of the headwaters of the Duddon near Wrynose Pass

21.   Pepper, John.  Cockley Beck: A Celebration of Lakeland in Winter.  Dorset:  Element Books, Ltd., 1984, p. 83

22.   Hartwell, Michael.  An Illustrated Guide to the Packhorse Bridges of the Lake District.  Earnest Press, 1994, p. 93

23.   Gambles, p. 73

24.   Hartwell, p. 91

25.   Goodwin, Harry.  “Cockley Beck, on the River Duddon, Cumberland,” published by Swan Sonnenschein and Co, Paternoster Square, London, 1890.  Found at http://www.lakesguides.co.uk/html/lgaz/lk02532.htm

26.   Thorne, p. 12

27.   Gambles, Robert.  Echoes of Old Lakeland.  Carlisle:  Bookcase Books, 2010, p. 151

28.   Hindle, p. 144

29.   R2R, p. 10

30.   Gambles, Echoes, p. 159

31.   Victorian Ordnance Survey 6 inch to 1 mile Old Map (1888-1913) at https://www.archiuk.com/

32.   Hartwell, p. 100

33.   Birks Bridge as illustrated in Wild Lakeland by MacKenzie MacBride and illustrated by Alfred Heaton Cooper, published 1922-28 and found at http://www.lakesguides.co.uk/html/topics/packbrgf.htm

34.   Ross, David.  “Birks Bridge, Duddon Valley,” at britainexpress.com

35.   Davies, Hunter. A Walk Around the Lakes. Arrow Books, 1989. p. 68. ISBN 0099504804

36.   Furness Iron, p. 6

37.   Furness Iron, p. 12

38.   Old Cumbria Gazetteer re Seathwaite Bridge, http://www.lakesguides.co.uk/html/lgaz/lk10227.htm

39.   R2R, p. 27

40.   R2R, p. 62

41.   Thorne, p.28

42.   Thorne, p. 28

43.   R2R, p. 10

44.   Email from Kerry Harvey-Piper to Jenifer Morrissey, 5/21/21

45.   Hall Bridge in 1890.  Photograph by Herbert Bell.  Found at http://www.lakesguides.co.uk/html/lgaz/lk13011.htm

46.   Johnstone, John.  Sylvan’s Pictorial to the English Lakes, as cited at http://www.pastpresented.ukart.com/eskdale/sylvan.htm

47.   R2R, p. 11

48.   Dickinson, Maggie B.  “What Lies Beneath,” Cumbria, October 2016, p. 19

49.   http://www.lakesguides.co.uk/html/lgaz/lk01089.htm

50.   R2R, p. 13

51.   Mullen, Adrian.  “Walk: Lower Duddon and Frith Hall with John Edmondson,” The Mail, “2/1/19

52.   Gambles, Story of the Lakeland Dales, p. 79

53.   R2R, p.67

54.   Dickinson, What Lies Beneath, p. 18-19

55.   R2R, p. 36-7

56.   R2R, p. 69

57.   Email from Maggie B. Dickinson to Jenifer Morrissey, 4/27/21

58.   Furness Iron, p. 38

59.   http://www.dowerhouse.biz/

60.   Gambles, Story of the Lakeland Dales, p. 73

Using a Scrub Route

It is incredibly flattering when my mare Madie wishes to engage with me during evening checks. It is especially flattering when she does this after I have skipped our training session earlier in the day because it feels like she missed our time together. One night on such an occasion I told her she should walk to the barn with me, and she did, traversing a quarter of a mile and interacting with me along the way, including helping me up a steep hill. Her foal wasn’t too pleased about being second priority!

But at temperatures close to zero (-17 Celsius) one evening, I just wasn’t interested in doing anything but getting done with my checks and back inside. Madie can be very persistent, following me for great distances to convince me to interact, so I needed a strategy to discourage her interest. I laughed at the idea that came to mind.

When I need to distract my mind from my to-do list, I like to listen to sports. This time of year, I enjoy college American football (I don’t enjoy watching as much because violent hits really bother me.) There is a strategy in the game called a scrub route where a player runs downfield with a defender in pursuit, and the offensive player runs close to a fellow player to ‘scrub’ the defender off the pursuit.

In the picture here, you see Madie’s ears; she is requesting interaction. You can also see a trail up the hill to the right. Just after I took this picture, another pony, Honey, appeared at the top of the trail and descended a few strides. Madie is subordinate to Honey. I instantly realized I could scrub Madie off my trail by walking up past Honey and then continuing out of sight because Madie was unlikely to attempt to pass Honey on the hill.

It worked. I was able to walk up and away from the herd with a focus on getting to someplace warm. Sitting in the warmth of my house telling this story, it feels a little unfair to Madie that I scrubbed her, but in the end I know it was not only best for me but it was best for her, too. In the cold I was far from being in an playful state of mind. I look forward to warmer weather next time!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2022

With a Little Help from Madie

I was laying in bed thinking about my to-do list for the day, and I realized that a pony could help me with one of the items on that list. It had been a long time since I’d asked a pony to help me with ‘work,’ so I quickly got out of bed to put the plan into action.

It all started with a Facebook post a few weeks before by a very accomplished florist/wreath maker in the UK. Each year she advertises beautiful horsehead wreaths for sale. The first time I saw one, I was smitten. This year, when I saw her post, I decided I would buy one as a holiday gift for my pink pony princess friend Jackson. I quickly learned, though, that the florist is so popular that she sells out well in advance. Chagrined, I had to put my thinking cap back on to figure out a holiday gift for Jackson.

I just couldn’t get the idea of a horsehead wreath out of my mind, though. I used to have a wreath-making business back in Colorado; I regularly used ponies to bring supplies in from the woods. So I began wondering if I could make a horsehead wreath for Jackson myself. After I was able to find a frame, I got permission to harvest greens here on the ranch, so it was beginning to seem possible. I found suitable greens not far away, so I was even more encouraged, though the ones here are cedar so are different from the subalpine fir greens I used in Colorado.

Next was to put together the pony portion of the chore. I pulled out two plasticized nylon bags that I had purchased several years ago for a different pony packing job. They are connected together at one point at the top and are intended to be used for light but bulky loads. Because of the nature of the jobs I wanted to do with them, I didn’t need pack saddles; I could just lay them across my pony’s back and keep them in place by their shape and weight.

My decision about which pony to use was an easy one. Willowtrail Spring Maiden, called Madie, has daily been asking to engage with me, and usually I just mount her, thank her, and dismount. This time, though, I would be asking her to pack in the greens. About five years ago, I had worked with her for a couple of weeks in preparation for a packing job, so I was confident that she would be okay with the idea. She just had never dealt with those particular bags. So the first thing I did was take the bags to her and see if she would quickly accept them slung over her back. She did, so next I harvested the quantity of greens I thought I would need, filling the bags as I harvested.

I had strategically chosen the harvesting location to be close to the pony pasture, so that Madie would be familiar with the terrain, if not the particular work. Madie was at the barn with the rest of the herd when it was time to go get the greens. I haltered Madie, and with her son King following, I led her on a half mile walk to where I had left the bags of greens. One of the many unknowns of this outing was how well four-month-old King would follow his mother and how he would react to his mother carrying the bags. I quickly found out that he was more of a challenge that I had anticipated, but in a good way! He not only willingly followed us but was very curious and constantly trying to pull on the bags. It was mostly a challenge when I was trying to make sure Madie was comfortable with how the loaded bags felt on her body while King was tugging on them. We took it slow at the start and then were able to walk at a good Fell Pony speed to where we left the bags. I was thrilled with both of them!

Making a ‘wreath’ in the shape of a horsehead instead of a circle or garland was a new experience. It was also a creative challenge to figure out what native materials to use for mane and forelock. Small Ponderosa Pine cones were the obvious choice for eyes, though! Because Jackson is a fan of the movie Frozen, blue and pink ribbons were important adornments for her wreath. The one that hangs outside my door, though, is au naturel. Thank you, Madie, for making these holiday decorations possible!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2021

Barn Work

I love this time of year. My chore load has transitioned away from foal care. My mares and youngstock are on their hill pasture continuously. The herd meets me at the barn in the morning. And now that the temperatures have dropped and flies are no longer distractions, we are all happier and able to engage more productively.

On a recent edition of Warwick Schiller’s podcast Journey On, I listened to Warwick interviewing Carolyn Resnick, creator of the Water Hole Ritual and author of Naked Liberty. After listening to the podcast, I appreciated Carolyn’s perspective about horses even more than I did before, in part because she shared that she has maintained the perspective of a child throughout her long life. Every time she approaches an equine, she does it with no expectations and lots of observation. She shared a story about her first horse whom she began with at three years old. Strawberry I think was its name, and it was an aged babysitter but also with enough go to keep her interested. He would do anything for her and was as near to perfect as a horse could be for a person her age. Later she met an American Saddlebred stallion whom she was told to stay away from by his handler because he was so mean. She spent time sitting outside his stall, and in time he became less mean and more willing to engage, teaching her that there’s a Strawberry inside every horse. She concluded this part of her story by saying that bringing out the Strawberry in every horse she meets is always her goal. This time of year for me is magical because it’s about continuing the process of bringing out the Strawberry in each of my ponies.

Given Carolyn’s focus on liberty work, I was surprised to hear her say that all the best horsemen she knew had their horses standing tied during the process of developing them. She said it without judgment, and I expected to hear her then say something like, “But I choose to do things differently.” But instead she said that standing tied is indeed an important part of the process. The reason? It’s the only time that equines get to stand around doing nothing with tack on. It’s a chance for them to get used to having things on their bodies without other things going on. It’s a chance for them to get comfortable with that before more is asked of them. Standing tied is a part of this time of year with my ponies. I think it’s an important step in mentally conditioning my ponies for eventual work, a beginning step in instilling a working mindset in them. (For more on working mindset, click here.)

Carolyn and Warwick talked about the dangers of “trainer’s mind.” They mean we can have our own agenda and often forget to see what state of mind and body our equine is in. Another of Warwick’s guests was a very accomplished dressage rider. She has staff at her barn, and people often think they are there to do the ‘barn work’ of brushing, picking feet, leading from place to place, and tacking up. But she said she would rather do all that work and have her staff do the riding because it was doing that ‘barn work’ that let her see where the equine was at mentally and physically so she could set them up for success under saddle when that time came. ‘Barn work’ is very important to me for exactly the reasons this woman stated. Before I can have peace in my day, I need to know that my ponies are well. Meeting them at the barn in the morning, witnessing their behavior and interactions, and handling them briefly provides me the information I need to go forth into my non-pony day. This time of year with its beautiful weather is ideal for long ‘barn work’ sessions that my ponies seem to look forward to as much as I do.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2021

You can find similar stories in my book The Partnered Pony: What’s Possible, Practical, and Powerful with Small Equines, available by clicking here or on the book cover.

Thankful 2021

There is nothing like a little snow
Falling from the sky,
And then a flock more than seventy strong
Of wild turkeys walking by,

To put me in a festive mind
And focus me again on gratitude.
For me this November holiday
Is about so much more than party food.

In these past few years, no one has been spared
From turmoil or disruption.
We’ve all been faced with our unique type
Of a two-year life reproduction.

Hopefully some of life’s bigger truths
Have helped you endure the upsets.
For me learning that miracles can follow tragedy
Has helped me navigate my collection of resets.

For my ponies and me it’s hard to imagine
How we could have landed in a better place.
For them a fell-like hill for pasture.
For me a log cabin for home base.

Seeing my ponies on a hill
Similar to where their ancestors roamed
Is giving me new insights
And makes me incredulous how we’ve been re-homed.

It’s hard to believe another year has passed –
It’s been two since we arrived here.
We have all settled well into new routines
And love that to each other we are near.

That another year has passed by us
Is evidenced by new members of my herd,
They being the result of my match-making
Done so long ago that memory has blurred!

My heart pony has had a daughter
Who is vying for top spot in my heart.
Another new daughter and a year old
Have given a new generation a good start.

Meanwhile the older ponies are gifts
For their steadfast presence and rapport.
Their desires to connect each day with me
Fill me with appreciation to my core.

I am grateful for two local horsewomen,
Like-minded but in different ways,
That enrich my life with ponies
By delighting with a hug or turn of phrase.

I’m grateful for friends much further away
Who touch me with their pony-filled communications.
Usually they give inspiration to me
Through their well-thought recommendations.

I am grateful for the love of family.
My own visited this summer here.
On this place, the family I live amongst
Has welcomed me with incredible cheer.

I am grateful for a recent opportunity
To be a guest on the Fell Pony podcast.
Having my two decades of work asked about
Made the interview go by so fast!

I am grateful for how my other interests
So often circle back to the ponies I love.
It’s a sign I’ve landed where I need to be,
A life that fits me like a glove.

So this Thanksgiving I am grateful
For this amazing place that we are living.
Its abounding beauty and diversity
Are healing gifts that keep on giving.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2021

Descending the Hill

Red arrow points to a pony descending the hill. I first saw them on the flat just above there.

When I got to the barn, my Fell Pony mare herd, except for three, were already there. I could see the missing three high on the hill, watching me spread a little hay and begin to prepare vitamin buckets. I was hoping they would come in on their own because I had sprained an ankle a few days before so I wasn’t looking forward to climbing after them. Then they began descending.

These three ponies come naturally to living on the hill. Drybarrows Calista, the oldest at four years, was born on a fell in Cumbria. Our hill is similar in slope and roughness to a fell, but more treed than most fells. And our climate is considerably drier. Calista’s daughter Willowtrail Mayflower, at five months old, has obviously been following her mom up the hill ever since Calista decided to lead her there. Willowtrail Aimee was also born here and at a year old has been following the herd up the hill - if not leading them - for most of her life.

I took a few minutes to watch these ponies descend the hill and even thought to video it. You can watch the video by clicking here. Patience was required because they took their time, stopping occasionally, which I admit I too do to admire the view and look for the best route down. It was interesting to note that they walked most of it, trotted some, and didn’t break into a canter until they were on lower, less rough ground. It was also notable that Aimee made sure Mayflower wasn’t left too far behind.

After these three young ponies came in and I finished my chores, I realized one of my dogs was not with us. It turned out she had found a dead deer in the pony pasture. Later I learned the deer had been killed by a mountain lion the day before. I wonder if the ponies watched the action. Mostly, though, I’m thankful they are all safe. And I feel justified again for foaling my mares in secure pens rather than out on the hill. My choice is different than many hill breeders in the homeland of our breed, but I don’t think they have the predators we do.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2021

You can read more stories like this one in my book What an Honor, available internationally by clicking here or on the book cover.

Morning Laughter

Mayflower tucked between two friends!

Early in the day, I had seen the mares come into the barn from the hill. Normally they wait there for me to arrive, but by the time I got there this time they weren’t there anymore. I spread their hay, and they still didn’t arrive, so apparently they weren’t close. Before taking a walk to find them, I walked to the stallion pen and fed Asi. On the walk back to the mare paddock I noticed that the mares had decided to come in. The four oldest mares came first and entered the paddock and started working on the hay I had spread. Then I saw yearling Aimee and mare Calista and her foal Mayflower running in. Rather than come into the paddock, though, they went to the waterer on the outside of the paddock.

I completed a short chore, and I saw Aimee come in, but I didn’t see Calista and Mayflower come in. I went to close the gate, pondering a walk to go look for Calista and Mayflower, then Calista appeared and passed me and went in. But where was her baby Mayflower? I started calling as I pulled the gate shut, my anxiety rising as I considered what might have happened to my young foal. As I turned around for one last look at the mares in the paddock before going out to search, I saw Mayflower looking at me from the lineup of mares, as if to say ‘here I am!’ I started laughing really hard. After I acknowledged Mayflower, she turned around and went back to eating hay and I laughed even harder.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2021

There are more stories like this one in my book What an Honor, available internationally by clicking here or on the book cover.

Pony Moments Summer 2021

I am so lucky to spend so much time with my ponies. They bring so many smiles to my face. Here are a few short examples from the past few months.

We had a moister summer than last, so my stallion’s grazing paddock lasted him most of the season. He stood at the gate in the morning waiting for me to open it and enjoyed his run down and into the ravine and up the other side before settling into grazing. Each day, though, when he heard me call, he willingly reversed the process, running down into the ravine and then back up into his paddock to meet me. I was so thankful!

I had two mares foal late in the summer. I appreciated their cooperation with my housing choices for them. Prior to foaling I was bringing Rose into a shed during the day to accustom her to the arrangement, then returning her to the herd for the night. Many mornings before she foaled, she would be at the shed when I came out, waiting for me to put her in. After Madie and Rose foaled, I put them out to graze during the day then in at night. These mares and their foals have a very large and varied pasture to graze, yet they reliably show up at dusk to be put in. I sleep better knowing they are in when the coyotes begin to howl nearby.

My two mares that did not have foals this year have also made me smile daily. Matty and Honey are out all night to graze, but every morning they are at the barn awaiting me when I arrive to close them in for the day. I keep them in so the foals can get used to the terrain of the pasture before dealing with the larger herd dynamics. Matty and Honey could make other choices, and they don’t. I’m so thankful.

One night I got home after dark. All of my ponies were in need of attention. Some needed to be fed where they were housed for the night and others needed to be let out to graze until morning. The adults were most interested in getting their feeding needs met, but the foals showed a different priority. Each of them - Mayflower, King, and Lettie – made a point of approaching and acknowledging me before following their mothers. They warmed my heart.

During fly season, I was regularly spraying the ponies who were in paddocks with an all-natural repellent. I have learned over the years that fly spray has at least three sensory associations that need to be established in my ponies for them to accept being sprayed: smell, feel, and sound (click here to read a story about those discoveries!) This time I was surprised, though, by how those sensory associations had already been learned by my foals. Both King at a few weeks old and Mayflower at a few months old stepped between their mothers and me to be sprayed. They had apparently already learned the relief associated with the spray and wanted to be first in line!

Another night, I also returned home after dark. As I stepped out of the car, I heard a call from the foaling shed nearby. Madie’s voice had a different quality to it, so I wondered what she was concerned about. Then I heard the pasture gate rattle. Ha! I had set a tub of hay outside the gate to give to Madie before I went to bed. She was letting me know that herd mates Matty and Honey had found the tub despite having an entire pasture to graze on and were reaching through the fence eating her evening meal. Since then I’ve put Madie’s tub farther from the gate!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2021

Of Course They Did!

Lettie greets my visitor

When my visitor arrived, just three of my ten Fell Ponies were in the corrals. Fortunately, my visitor was interested in helping with chores, so we busied ourselves with them. All the while, though, I kept my eyes peeled for the rest of the herd because I wanted my visitor to meet all of them. Soon, Madie and her foal King came into view on the hill, and my visitor exclaimed appreciation as King posed appropriately regally on a steep slope. Then I saw a three-some high on the hill watching us and listening as we talked while preparing vitamin buckets. I was not looking forward to climbing up to bring them in, and my visitor wasn’t able to climb anyway, so I just shrugged off my desire to introduce those three.

We gave buckets to my stallion and the two mares that were in. When we were done, I looked up on the hill, where I saw that the three-some was starting to move. I pointed them out to my visitor then over the next two minutes we were treated to a display of Fell Pony beauty. These three navigated the steep terrain with manes and tails flowing, trotting then galloping toward the barn as they reached flatter ground. I opened the gate and let them into the corrals, thinking about a comment that has been made more than once about my ponies and me. It seemed to apply to my wondering if these three would come in on their own: ‘Of course they did!’

My visitor had now met all my ponies except for the newest foal and her mother. I told my visitor that I didn’t know where they were, so it looked like we wouldn’t get to see them. And then, here they came, up out of the ravine towards the barn, where Rose and Lettie cordially greeted my visitor.. ‘Of course they did!’

I introduced the three hill ponies to my visitor as we gave them their vitamin buckets. One of the three was yearling Aimee. It didn’t take long before my visitor was petting Aimee and scratching her in her favorite places. Almost sheepishly, my visitor turned to me and said, “I like Aimee best.” I don’t what Aimee does to elicit such admiration from visitors, but this visitor joined most of the others I’ve had this year in placing Aimee at the top of the list. ‘Of course they did!’

Visitors are a relatively rare happening here. So I always learn a lot watching how my ponies react to visitors and my visitors react to them. Often my ponies humble me, and this time was no different. ‘Of course they did!’

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2021

Madie, Where's Your Baby?!!!

I laughed when I saw this - King in the wrong pen with his mother on the outside!

I had company for dinner and had to excuse myself right at dark to go bring in my mares and their foals. I was thankful when I stepped out the door and one of the mares called out a greeting. She was usually close at that time of night, so I was glad the pattern had repeated itself on a night when I was later doing this chore than I should have been.

I grabbed a halter and let myself through the pasture gate, and Madie came to greet me. After exchanging hellos, she followed me into her pen where I had put out hay for her. Then I looked around and realized her foal King was nowhere in sight. I said quickly, more than once, “Madie, where’s your baby?!!!”

I hurriedly put a halter on her, and we went back out into the pasture in the direction from which I had seen her come. Failing light is far from ideal when looking for black ponies, especially against a treed background. Eventually, though, I saw the second mare Rose appearing from the ravine, and my relief was abundant when I saw her with two foals, one of which was King.

I put Madie back in her pen, thinking King would follow her in, but I had more work to do. He was more interested in following Rose and her foal Lettie. I haltered Rose and led her into her pen, and eventually Lettie followed; she too seemed interested in hanging out with her brother. I shut the gate of that pen quickly because I knew from the previous day that King would follow Rose and Lettie into their pen if I let him, as the photo here shows. When King realized he was alone, he finally decided to join his mother in their pen, and I shut the gate for the night. But I had quite a story to tell my dinner guests when I returned to them!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2021

There are more stories about my life with Fell Ponies in What an Honor, available internationally by clicking here or on the book cover.

Unexpected Glue

The younger herd!

My seven Fell Pony mares all were running together, spending nights on the hill and days in the paddocks where I can check them over and manage their caloric intake. They have delighted me by coming into the paddocks each morning, awaiting my arrival and morning greeting. Then the herd split in two, with half coming in and the other half staying out so that I had to go out searching for them. I was surprised by the glue that had kept them together and that I had removed.

The herd that has continued to come into the paddocks is the older three mares. The herd that has been expressing their independence is the three youngest: four-year-old Calista, her foal Mayflower, and yearling Aimee.

Herd dynamics always fascinate me. So when the mare herd split in two, I was curious what had changed. I knew I had made a change in the herd, separating Madie for part days in preparation for foaling. When she foaled, I removed her from the mare herd entirely to give she and her foal a chance to bond and then get used to life on the hill without pressure from more dominant ponies.

Madie ended up being the unexpected glue in the herd. Madie likes to be in the company of the older mares who are close in age to her. Aimee likes to be in the company of her mother. With Madie in the herd, these preferences kept the herd together because Calista didn’t want to be alone. With Madie removed, Aimee no longer had incentive to stay with the older mares, and Calista didn’t either with Aimee joining her band. So interesting! Recombining the herd is going to be fascinating when the time comes!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2021

If you enjoyed this story, you can find more like it in my book What an Honor, available internationally by clicking here or on the book cover.

Snakes in the Morning

Rose in her foaling pen before I put boards around the base to keep her foal in and canines (and maybe snakes?) out

The first snake encounter of the day was when I was walking my pregnant Fell Pony mare Willowtrail Wild Rose from the barn to her foaling pen for the day. We walked down into a ravine, and as we descended, I was watching for snakes, when I saw one just in front of me. Before I could stop, Rose had stepped on it. But because I stopped, she did too, on the snake. Well-mannered pony except in this case! I quickly asked her to move ahead then I turned around to see what we had just passed over. It was a baby snake, and it was hissing at us and appeared to be injured, so I went off in search of a rock to put it out of its misery. When we returned, the foot-long youngster was slithering off, and I confirmed that it was a harmless bull snake, so I tossed my rock aside and willed my heart to quit beating so quickly.

A few minutes later, as I was settling Rose into her pen, I heard my young dog Ace barking insistently. This is the same dog that was bit by a rattlesnake a few weeks before. When I stepped around the shed to see where he was, I saw he was barking at a spot on the ground, with my other dog doing an approach-and-retreat dance I’d seen her use at other times this summer around snakes. For herding dogs, these two do amazing imitations of pointers! I quickly grabbed a pitchfork and yelled at the dogs to keep their distance and approached them quickly but cautiously. I scanned the ground where they were pointing, and I couldn’t see anything. Then I drug the pitchfork across the area the dogs were pointing at, and something silver moved and both dogs jumped. It was a snake skin! Once again I willed my heart to quit beating so quickly while smiling at the harmless outcome of our collective excitement.

The previous day I was emerging from a bad case of heat exhaustion, my second of the summer after not having any cases for years. In addition, I had been pondering the news reports from earlier in the week of the just-released report from the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change. The summary seems to be that the climate will be getting hotter and more unpredictable quickly. The two summers I have been here in South Dakota have been hotter than normal, but I can’t take solace from that statistical perspective because these hot days may be our new normal. So I’ve been asking myself how my stewardship of my ponies needs to be adjusted.

At first I was thinking about it from the ponies’ perspective. What do they need that they don’t already have? The good news is that they seem to be doing pretty well so far, making use of sheds and barns to stay out of the sun during the day, availing themselves of cooling breezes, and doing most of their grazing at night. After my heat exhaustion, I then had to ask, what do I need to do differently? Immediately what came to mind is the timing of my breeding and foaling season and the workload they require. In Colorado I hadn’t ever been constrained by weather with regard to breeding and foaling, but I know one breeder elsewhere that has timed foaling for the dead of winter because of their climate. In the face of the hot days I’ve experienced this summer and last, and maybe hotter ones in the future, I will probably have to move my breeding and foaling to early spring and late fall so I don’t have a workload during weather I can’t handle.

Warmer summers may mean a longer snake season, too. I lived without snakes for seventeen years when I was in Colorado at 9,000 feet above sea level, so I haven’t been used to constraining my life because of them. And the long cool season here when they aren’t out lulls me to complacency for many months. Having Ace bit each year of his life so far by rattlesnakes, though, has established a pattern that I can’t ignore. I know the snakes aren’t necessarily aggressive; I remember watching one of my ducks once step on a rattlesnake with no adverse consequences (except for the snake getting quickly relocated out of the barnyard!) Nonetheless, I will be evaluating how my management of my ponies may need to change to keep us all safe from snake bites and, more importantly, how to minimize my anxiety about them. I wonder what other aspects of our new climate normal will require me to rethink my stewardship of my ponies.

A few days before my snakes-in-the-morning, a friend let me know about a rattlesnake awareness class she was taking her dog to. My neighbor Bruce laughed when I told him about it, saying I was getting my awareness through on-the-job training! I am just thankful that my dogs are being cautious and letting me know when they have found something serpent-like, even if it’s just a skin!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2021

Fortune and Misfortune

Two bloody spots on my dogs nose confirmed his misfortune and a pony’s good fortune.

This story is about the good fortune of a pony and the misfortune of a dog. I didn’t realize the pony’s luck at the time, so I only have a photo of the dog’s end of things.

I was doing my evening chores, including readying the foaling shed for a pregnant mare. I had finished that chore when I saw the mare appear nearby, walking toward me along the fence toward the foaling shed. I was thankful when she put herself in for the night without me fetching a halter and walking to find her and leading her in. I chuckled because her mother had been the same way.

A few minutes later my dogs and I began our trek to the barn to let the mare herd out. My young dog was frisky with the cooler temperatures and kept me laughing with his antics, including running circles around the foaling pen and doing sprints back and forth between my legs. As we headed back along the same path along the fence that the mare had just come in on, he grabbed a bone and trotted along in front of me. Then he dropped it to go investigate something. When he came back to fetch his bone in front of me on the path, he suddenly yelped and sprung four feet into the air and landed behind me. Then I heard a rattle. Two bloody dots on my dog’s nose confirmed he’d just been bitten by a rattlesnake.

Where I lived in Colorado for seventeen years we didn’t have snakes, let alone poisonous ones, so I’m still getting used to living with them here in South Dakota. My education about treating rattlesnake bites in dogs came fifteen months before when the same dog was bit on the face. This spring I had him vaccinated against rattlesnake venom, trusting he wouldn’t need the protection because he had learned from experience that he shouldn’t mess with them. His misfortune was that he had surprised the snake in deep grass and likely hadn’t even seen it while looking for his bone.

The pony’s good fortune was that the snake hadn’t bit her as she came along the same path a few minutes before. Maybe the snake had just arrived there, or maybe the snake felt her coming from the clomp-clomp of her hooves. Whatever the reason, I was extremely grateful for how things turned out, especially since the mare foaled four hours later. I knew the ropes for getting my dog on the road to recovery and didn’t have to learn the routine for an equine. Or for a human for that matter since I was right there, too. After anti-venom and other supporting medications, two days later my dog is acting normally and has just a little remaining swelling.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2021

Midnight Moonlight Greeting

Willowtrail Spring Maiden at dusk a few days before this story took place. I didn’t even try to take a photo at midnight under moonlight!

I had been away for three days on a last-minute trip, attending the Celebration of Life of a deceased friend. I returned home just before midnight, and my immediate priority was to take my dogs for a walk. When I stepped outside with them after changing my clothes, I saw that the waning gibbous moon had risen high enough in the sky to light the valley where I live. With hope in my heart, I scanned the hill nearby, and I was elated by what I saw.

As I walked toward the gate and my eyesight became adjusted to the light, I kept scanning the area. Soon I saw that there was not one but a number of ponies nearby, and that they had begun walking toward the gate too. Before long I had exchanged greetings with all but one of my mares and both my youngsters. The missing mare has a habit of being aloof, so when I couldn’t easily find her in the moonlight, I spoke my greeting, knowing I would see her the following morning. I didn’t even think to try to take a picture, so the one here is of an evening pony encounter a few days before.

My trip had been to an urban area that had required an airplane flight. I can count on one hand the number of such trips I’ve taken in the last ten years, so you can imagine how out of my element I felt, not just because I was away from my four-footed friends. Having my feet back on the ground here was a wonderful feeling. Then, that my mares would make themselves visible nearby for my homecoming was like icing on the cake. This life with ponies is amazing!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2021

You can find more stories like this one in my book What an Honor, available internationally by clicking here or on the book cover.

These Two!

It had been a long day. As I drove the lane on the way to check a newborn calf, I scanned the pony pasture looking for Calista and Mayflower. I was preparing for bringing them in for the night when I got back. When I spied them, they were about a half mile from my house, so I knew a walk was in front of me as light was quickly fading from the day. Imagine my elation, then, when I returned to my house and found that they had run to the waterer at the barn during my absence. This was the fourth evening in a row that these two had made my life so much easier.

The previous night, I had misjudged the weather forecast. Thunder and lightning had begun earlier than I expected, and when I went out to do my last pony chores of the day, occasional rain drops began to fall. The sky was an amazing red color, and with the flashes of lightning, it almost looked like it was on fire. Unfortunately the lightning drew nearer as my chores drug on, so when it was time to fetch Calista and Mayflower, I took a route that avoided ridgetops, hoping I wouldn’t have to walk into the open pasture in search of my girls. What a relief it was, then, when I saw them approaching the barn with their own bodies, like mine, bent against the rain that was beginning to fall in earnest. By the time I got them tucked into the foaling shed for the night, we were all soaked, but we were safe and able to appreciate the brilliant, if electric, show in the sky. The next morning the water in my rain gauge had a reddish tinge to it. I later learned we had had smoke in the atmosphere from a distant wildfire.

The night before that, I had gone out just before dark and didn’t see the girls anywhere. I began calling their names as I walked. After several minutes, I heard thundering hooves and here they came from the far end of the pasture at full speed. As they got closer, I saw that it was Mayflower, the foal, that was in the lead by forty yards. She almost came all the way to me but then veered to follow her mother to the barn. I had been wondering who was responsible for coming when I called, and I think I got my answer that night! Warmed my heart!

The first night in this helpful series, it had been another long, tiring day and I was late getting out to do chores. It was nearly dark when it was time to go find Calista and Mayflower. Imagine my appreciation then when, after fetching a halter, I looked up to see Calista and Mayflower not fifty feet from me heading my way. These two made my day again!

None of the four nights when Calista and Mayflower were so helpful were conducive to picture-taking. I was just intent on getting the girls where they were supposed to be before dark. So the photo here was taken one morning during the string of days when I was feeling so appreciative of these two.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2021

You can find more stories like this one in my book What an Honor, available internationally by clicking here or on the book cover.

Mountain Ponies 2

When the farrier was out the other day, as usual we had wide ranging conversations as we passed the time while he worked. In addition to updates on his family’s farm and animals, he shared with me his family’s ‘odd hobby’ (his words) of doing historic train holdup reenactments. They dress in period clothes, carry period firearms, have a script that they follow, and shoot blanks to entertain tourists.

I shared with him the current state of my similarly ‘odd hobby’ of breeding Fell Ponies. At the moment, I am quite consumed by the actual work of breeding – putting mares with carefully chosen stallions and making sure they are successfully bred – and he was complimentary about my newest filly who was born a few hours after his last visit here. (He was also impressed with her foot-handling skills at such a young age!) But I also shared with him my current research projects about the Fell Pony breed that help inform my breeding work. One of my current research projects is about the packhorse history of the Lake District in the Fell Pony’s home terrain. We then touched a little on the conformation that I think makes an ideal Fell Pony, one that could do that packing work but also the other work the breed has been asked to perform over its history, including ridden, driving, and draft.

There was a lull in our conversation, and then he said, seemingly out of the blue, “When we were ranching in the mountains, this is just the sort of horse,” pointing at the pony he was trimming, “that we were always wanting.” He then elaborated that it was shorter in stature, stoutly built, sure-footed, hardy, with nice large hooves, and able to pick its feet up to go over rough terrain. I immediately thought back to a similar statement that my late husband had made about the sorts of mounts an old cowboy he knew always rode in the mountains. That cowboy ranched only a handful of miles from where my farrier once ranched, so the similarities were even more apparent to me.

I don’t often run across people who understand the characteristics of a mountain pony and why they are important for the work they do. So it was a thrill during the long tedious chore of attending my farrier to hear his appreciation for my mountain ponies!

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2021

Lake District National Park Partnership Management Plan Consultation

Linnel Doublet (“Rusty”) as a pack pony on the bridleway over Burnmoor in the Lake District

The Lake District National Park and its partners including Friends of the Lake District are crafting a new plan to address many changes in the context in which the park is managed, including Brexit and climate change. Until June 23, they are soliciting feedback on their plan via a survey (click here).

As you know if you have followed my work in the past few years, I believe we in the Fell Pony community have opportunities to increase the visibility of our breed and its historic role in the Lake District, thanks especially to the ‘cultural landscape’ category that was used to obtain World Heritage Site designation in 2017. The cultural landscape categorization calls out the role of agriculture and industry in shaping the Lake District we know today. Packhorses (ancestors of our Fell Ponies) were integral for hundreds of years in moving goods around the Lake District before roads and railways. Trackways and packhorse bridges are some of the historic marks on the landscape left by this form of transport. Unfortunately, packhorse history and Fell Ponies were not well integrated into the World Heritage Site plan, so the current revision of the park’s management plan provides us with a new opportunity.

I had three main concerns that were not necessarily easy to express in the survey:

• The agropastoral and industrial past on which the World Heritage Site is partially based emphasizes farming and mining and woodland industries but rarely mentions how materials were moved about (packhorses in their day) and the routes packhorses used, including trackways and bridges. Also rarely mentioned are the presence of mills (fulling, bobbin, corn) which were serviced by packhorses in their day. I think we in the Fell Pony community need to herald the historic role of packhorses for transport, possibly not only in the ‘Farming, Forestry, and Nature’ section but perhaps also in the Transport section.

• One of the themes of the new plan is ‘more sustainable transportation,’ and I think if you are interested in bridleways, it would be important to comment, since in the past, foot traffic has seemed to preempt equine traffic in planning circles. The picture here shows Linnel Doublet (“Rusty”) as a pack pony on the bridleway over Burnmoor.

• While farming is acknowledged as a part of the Lake District, it seems like farming will be important in the future for its ‘nature recovery’ role more than its ability to produce food. I think it’s not only possible but important to emphasize that both are possible at the same time and necessary. It seems to me, though, that ‘nature recovery’ gets top billing by a long way.

There are places in the survey where you are asked if you can help. Please consider what you might be able to do. I let them know about my work to document the packhorse history of the Lake District.

Thank you for your interest in this topic.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2021

Calling to Each Other

Drybarrows Calista and Willowtrail Mayflower keeping me company in the pasture

My bedroom is about 100 feet from the foaling shed. I sleep with my window cracked open for fresh air, but of course it also allows for easier entry of sound. At four o’clock in the morning, my Fell Pony mare Calista called to me, which woke me from a sound sleep. It’s very unusual for her to call, so I of course wondered why. A few minutes later I found out why when a coyote howled, and it was closer to my house than Calista is.

I immediately got up and put the dogs out, and they immediately went nuts running about barking and then eventually adding their harmonies to the distant ones of coyotes. The close-by song never returned. After a few more minutes, it was all quiet, so the dogs and I returned to the house.

Later that morning I had put Calista and her foal Mayflower out to pasture. But I realized I needed to check them more closely than I had, so I went looking for them. I knew which direction they had gone, but they weren’t visible anywhere. So I started softly calling. My calling was soft because I wanted Calista to know my intentions were different than my evening calls which communicate ‘Time to come in!’ Having just put her out, I knew she wouldn’t be thrilled with the idea of coming in so soon, so I also starting softly saying I just wanted to check on her.

After less than a minute of walking and softly calling, I was astounded by what happened. She called to me to let me know where she was. She had been hidden from view, and she and Mayflower ran to where I could see them. And it wasn’t just Calista that surprised me. Mayflower actually came running to me, down into a ravine and back up the other side where I was, with her mother in hot pursuit. I checked them both over and told them to have a good day.

I had walked a few dozen yards when I realized I again had company. They had trotted up to me again. I am quite humbled right now by these two. I had no idea that Calista would ever offer me the sort of relationship she has offered since Mayflower was born. It’s not that Calista was ever unfriendly; quite the opposite. Her breeder was right when he said she’d be hard to get rid of, so interested in attention was she as a youngster. What she is offering is something deeper, something that allows us to call to each other, with the high likelihood that the other will respond.

© Jenifer Morrissey, 2021

You can find more stories like this one in my book What an Honor, available internationally by clicking here or on the book cover.