I Have a Favor to Ask... and Rolex/KY Preview!

Well, I'm back from Kentucky and of course I had a PHENOMENAL time... looking forward to telling you all about it, just as soon as I can download pictures from my new camera! In the meantime, I have an announcement: My Rolex trip was not "strictly pleasure." I have a new freelance job and I was doing a little business for them while I was gone.

I'm sure you know what this is...

Phew, I can smell it from here. Not to mention, all that manure had to get from the stalls to the pile somehow. How many teetering wheelbarrows full of poop have you accidentally dumped? I can remember crying a couple times when I did just that as a kid. Nothing like half an hour of hard work winding up back on the ground.

Nope, there's definitely a better way than wheelbarrows. As far as that stinky pile, there are many things you can do with your horse manure. Keep heaping up the teetering mound and hope it doesn't burst into flames, have it hauled away, properly compost it or - spread it on your fields, before or after composting.

And speaking of manure spreaders, guess who is the new Public Relations Consultant for one of the companies that makes them, Millcreek Spreaders?

I will spare you any further commercials, but suffice it say, this company is run by great people and they make a great product (with an excellent warranty) right here in the USA. I am proud to be working for them.

Here's where you, my faithful blog readers, come in. If you're on Facebook, I would be extremely grateful if you could visit the brand-new Millcreek Spreaders Facebook page and "Like" it. They had zero social media so I'm starting from scratch. Hopefully you'll enjoy the content I'm posting or sharing, so please feel free to like that and/or share it as well.

In addition to that, or if you're not on Facebook, I'd love to get your answers to a few questions. Grassroots marketing survey!

1) Have you heard of Millcreek Spreaders? If so, how?
2) Have you ever used any kind of spreader? What brand? What did you like/dislike about it?
3) If you were in the market for a spreader, how would these factors rank in your consideration:
- Recommendation from a friend
- Quality
- Price
- Ease of use
- Reputation of company
- Celebrity endorsement
4) Where might you research your purchase? E.g. online via website, Facebook, ask a friend, etc.

And finally, how would you like to win an iPad Mini? Millcreek is a sponsor of the Riders4Helmets iPad Giveaway! They had a booth at Rolex and were taking entries there, but luckily you can also enter on their website. They're giving away a body protector and a bunch of gorgeous helmets, too!

THANK YOU for taking the time to do any of these things. It will really help me out! I already know a lot more about poop-flinging than I used to, that's for sure. ;-)

*     *    *

And now back to our regularly scheduled programming. A little taste of what I saw in Lexington:

2010 World Equestrian Games (WEG) - Part 1

I have been meaning to do a post about my adventures at the World Equestrian Games, and I just found some photos I had handy on this computer. There are lots more but if I wait until I remember to send them over this will never get done. So, without further ado - the WEG!

I picked up this promo brochure way back in '08 and had it stuck in my bedroom mirror. I thought it was Rich Fellers and Flexible but the blaze is wrong. ETA: Sapphire and Mclain Ward, thank you to reader L. Williams!
The minute I read in Practical Horseman that Lexington/the Kentucky Horse Park had landed the World Equestrian Games for 2010 (which I think was in 2007), I was determined to go. No way was I missing such a  huge event located only six hours away! Never mind that tickets would be expensive... and lodging, if I could find it, even more so: I. Was. Going. Right away I planned on watching the 3-Day Eventing, as I'd thoroughly enjoyed that at the Atlanta Olympics. I've seen some famous show jumpers, and I do love that, too, but there's just something so cool about being a spectator on a x-country course, even if eventing isn't "my" equestrian sport.

I watched the horse news carefully and found out when tickets would be going on sale. Then the prices were announced - ouch. The dream began to slip through my fingers, as I added up the cost of tickets, gas, food and lodging. By spring of 2010 I'd kind of given up on the whole thing, I'm afraid. But never fear, it was Facebook to the rescue! I found an old friend of mine going back to elementary school. We had lost touch years ago and I was tickled when she turned up on social media. I was even more tickled when I learned that she lives not 10 minutes away from the Kentucky Horse Park. I couldn't believe it - would she be willing to have a weekend guest? YES!

Once I had a bed to sleep in, the rest fell into place. My mom graciously agreed to buy me tickets for Saturday and Sunday as my birthday gift. My friend said she'd feed me dinners. She even said she'd drop me off at the KHP so no need to fork out $20/day for parking. It was on!

I arrived in KY Friday night and my old friend and I had a great reunion (we still like each other, whew :-). The weather, if I recall, had been a bit iffy, but Saturday dawned sunny and pleasant, perfect for horses and riders on x-country and spectators, too. I got up and dressed and out the door in record time, anxious to be at the Park. My friend dropped me off at the entrance, as planned, and I started to walk.... and walk.... and walk. I'd forgotten that it's a loooooong way in from Ironworks Pike! Lots of people joined me from the parking lots, though, so I felt pretty smug about saving my $$.

I bought my ticket and entered the park right by the main grandstand. The horses had already started on the course, and I followed the crowd right to where hundreds of people had gathered, at the Head of the Lake water complex. Folks were really packed in and it was hard to see, but I didn't care - I was THERE, hurray! When the first horse came through I think I cried. Wow, what a grand partnership and those horses are so freakin' BRAVE! Full of run and jump, just point 'em in the right direction and by golly, 98% of the time they're gonna go over it, whether it's down a huge drop they don't even know is coming, a log they can't see over, or some other insane creation that no right-minded rider would ask a horse to negotiate. But as eventers will tell you, they aren't normal!

(Not my photo, found online)

As the day went on, I figured out a couple things. One was to keep going until I found a place to stand where I could actually see something. My best view of the water turned out to be alongside the galloping lane going in. After I'd had my fill of that, I decided to find some other jumps that weren't quite so popular. Another tip was how to - believe it or not - actually capture some halfway decent photos with my iPhone. Viewing my frustration, a fellow spectator gave me the tip of hitting the shutter button just as I heard the horses' feet go "thump" upon takeoff from the ground. Hence,  I was able to get these:

Not too bad, right? I don't know who the first two riders are but that one with the "cottage" jump is Philip Dutton. It was late in the day and I believe he was the last US rider on x-country, and had a fault-free round which we badly needed.

Speaking of spectators, one of my most favorite aspects of x-country day - out of a truly magical  day that I spent literally in horse heaven, just awed and overjoyed to be there - was talking to my fellow onlookers. I am not shy and retiring so everywhere I went and sat or stood for a while, I struck up a conversation with someone nearby. Quite often they weren't even from the U.S. I met people from Great Britain, Australia and Germany (who spoke excellent English). I met a professional photographer slung about with giant lenses and camera bodies. I met people who were decked out in full (expensive) casual horsey regalia, like Hermes scarves and Dubarry boots, and others who had on well-worn jeans, scuffed paddocks and a battered fleece. Regardless, it was just such a treat to be surrounded by so many fellow horse-lovers. I did talk to a few people who didn't know much of anything about horses and were there because it was a "big event" taking place nearby - good for them!

Photo courtesy of TheHorse.com

The crowd that day was a record, some 55,000 strong if I recall. The perfect weather certainly helped and I was thrilled for the organizers. Now, out of that enormous crowd, are you the least bit amazed that I ran into someone I know? The horse world is only so big, I guess! :-) And unsurprisingly, it was the horse I recognized first. This was not a competitor: no, it was someone in foxhunting attire who was serving as an outrider. She and her lovely B/W Pinto gelding were standing in one place, on hand in case of a runaway or other mayhem. I thought, hmmm, that pair looks familiar... I went up and yes, they were from the Bridlespur Hunt Club right here in my neck of the woods, and I'd actually been hunting with them twice. The lady is well-acquainted with my friend who used to be very active in the hunt club and though I had to remind her we'd met, she did remember me. I was really delighted when she gave me her "volunteer lunch" that she didn't want - having checked out the prices in the food concession stands, I was more than happy to snarf down a warm baloney-and-cheese sandwich, broken potato chips and some crumbly cookies.  (Yes, I'm a cheapskate and will eat almost anything that's free.) I did attempt to feed the horse one of the cookies, lest you think I'm a total pig...

Becky Holder and Courageous Comet - somehow missed seeing them, unfortunately, but one of my favorite TBs! I think I missed them because Comet was injured on course and had to retire before they got to "my" area at the time. Photo courtesy of TheHorse.com.

In Part 2 I'll cover Stadium Jumping day and the rest of the many delights at the WEG!

Skipingo Home (Part 2)

To fill you in a little more on Skipingo's story, here is his biography page:

I hope you can read this!

Skippy was the Lyons' daughter Karen's H/J competition mount for a while after he came back to KY, but suffered a career-ending injury and is now a spoiled pasture pet. His buddy Primerica, a long-term track campaigner, went straight into retirement. The two distinguished gentleman hang out with a few other guys in a beautiful pasture next to an elegant white barn. This is their view from the pasture, courtesy of Skipingo's book:

The horses immediately came over to the fence when we drove up - I think they are ever-so-slightly used to being plied with treats, so they know when the goodie train arrives. :-)  Here are Skippy and Primerica (I forget his nickname). Skip is on the right:

Skipingo, grabbing another mouthful of that good KY bluegrass:

He was a good boy and took his treats politely, letting us rub his face and ears.

Finally, here is my bad photo of a good photo of Skipingo and Primerica that appears in the back of Primerica's book. Skippy is on the right with Karen Lyons Bailey, and that's her mother Jane on the left with "P:"

After we had visited a bit with these two "famous" TBs, we were off to see India's 2011 foal. This girl was in a pasture with a bunch of other weanlings, and gosh, were they a rowdy bunch! The groom had his hands full separating Baby India out of the group and standing her up for us to see. I haven't gotten to be around baby horses all that much, but just watching that gang for a few minutes was enough to thoroughly convince me that people who think they should have a foal out of their mare so their kids can see the "miracle of birth" and because it will be so "kyyyyyuuuuuutttte" need to know that they quickly turn into multi-hundred pound energetic monsters with flying hooves and teeth. No wonder there are so many unfortunate yearlings and two-year-olds on Craigs List advertised as "unhandled!" I had no interest in even trying to pet one of those rambunctious kids over the fence.

I was really enjoying my farm tour, but unfortunately, I was beginning to have a pressing time concern. I wanted to get back home to MO before it was late at night, since I had to work the next day at 8:30. Here I was moseying around more than six hours away, and it was going on 3:30... and I wasn't even packed up yet at my friend's house. So when the rest of the group suggested we visit the cemetery next, I said okay, but hoped it was pretty close by.

Imagine my surprise when the first thing I saw upon arriving at the cemetery was not a horse, dead or alive. Nope, in a pasture just a few feet away it looked like... could it be... well, yes, unless my eyes were deceiving me, it certainly was a striped equine, aka, a ZEBRA. Meet Ziggy! (See, I told you this trip would be from A to Z. Your patience has been rewarded!)

Ziggy was pastured with some donkey friends. I was very excited, and leapt from the car to run over and say hello. I'd never gotten to see a tame zebra up close! I swiftly approached the fence and reached out to pet this exciting animal. Just as my hand connected with his cheek, I heard Liz call, "WATCH OUT - he bites!" Now, I guess I was lucky, because he didn't even snap at me, but since I wasn't interested in losing any fingers to an African mammal I kept my hands to myself afterwards (I can just see explaining that one in the ER... "You got bit by a WHAT???"). Turns out Mr. Ziggy is in no way, shape or form "tame." He and the donkeys are rescues, picked up from poor circumstances by Karen Lyons Bailey. The only way anyone has been able to do a thing with him is to dart him, so everyone hopes fervently that he doesn't have an accident requiring veterinary care. Luckily, his hooves are "self-trimming" so they have been okay.

I'm sorry to say my phone died after I took this photo, so I didn't get any pictures of the cemetery. This was a row of nice marble stones set into the ground, and marked the resting places of such horses as Skipingo and Skipaway's mother, Ingot Way. Fleet Indian's ashes had already been interred but her headstone had not arrived yet. It was in a pretty spot next to a row of lovely old trees, and a fitting place to commemorate the lives of horses who are all definitely much-loved by the Lyons family. Here's a link to an article about the little purchase Mrs. Lyons made during the sale that was taking place at Keeneland while I was in town: http://www.bloodhorse.com/horse-racing/articles/66105/love-me-only-brings-21-million-at-keeneland

I did make my departure after this, and eventually arrived back at my own home, tired but very happy. What adventures I had had! I will leave you with this photo of the last page of Skipingo's book. It never fails to bring tears to my eyes. I only wish all retired TB racehorses could find themselves in such wonderful circumstances...

Skipingo Home (Part 1)

As promised, I finally bring you the (first part of) the last installment in my Kentucky odyssey.

If you recall, I was last seen ogling some very expensive TB horseflesh in the comfort of the WinStar stallion barn. I left there and headed back to Old Friends, where I had agreed to meet Melissa and her friend in order to join them in their visit to Summer Wind Farm. I wasn't sure if this was a good idea or not; Melissa was really excited to see her old racetrack buddy, the mare named India, and I felt a lot like I was butting in. But the ladies assured me it wouldn't be a problem, the farm manager was really nice, etc. so I said I would go. Plus, I was pretty excited at the thought of seeing a non-breeding operation TB farm up close.

Here is what I knew about Summer Wind before I set foot there: NOTHING. Other than that it looked big, quite nice and was across the street from Old Friends, I hadn't a clue. All I could see were the front gates and some fencing. It was a private establishment, didn't stand stallions and I'd certainly never heard of the owners, some people named Lyons.

Or had I...

You see, I actually DID know something about them and the place but I'd forgotten. Back when I first visited Old Friends in 2009, I picked up a children's picture book in their gift shop. It was called "Skipingo Home," and was the beautifully-illustrated story of a failed racehorse, headed down the drain, who was snatched up by his breeders and brought back to the farm of his birth. Of course this made me cry standing right there in the store, but I was delighted to read about people who cared that much for their TBs. Their farm, naturally, was Summer Wind. I can't remember if I realized then it was the place across the street, and I didn't remember any of this when I was invited to go there.

I hopped in Melissa's car when we met up, and we drove directly across the highway to the gated entrance of the farm. From the front, it certainly looked impressive. Melissa gave her name and the gates swung open. We drove in and proceeded down a long road winding between enormous rolling pastures (few trees) until we eventually reached the house-like farm office building. We were met on the front porch by the extremely hospitable and nice manager, a gal named Liz. Melissa had been in contact with her via phone and email to set up this visit, but they'd never actually met before. Many greetings ensued and we were escorted inside.

Hmmpf. I probably don't need to tell you, the offices were decorated just a wee bit nicer than my entire house. There was a wide hardwood entry foyer, with lovely framed photos of racer winners, horse portraits and the like. Two large and lavishly-appointed offices with mahogany desks, tufted chairs, abundant bookshelves and plants and other horse-centric things were to the left and right. A TV was running with live coverage of the Keeneland sale going on. Think expensive lawyer-like, with horse thrown in. An enormous boardroom was towards the back, and a kitchen to the left. Interestingly, there was what looked a lot like a shrine set up in the foyer; a large photo of a horse on a table with a bunch of greeting cards, floral arrangements and even a fading flower horseshoe on an easel next to it.

As I was busy taking all of this in, the other ladies were discussing a horse named Fleet Indian. "It was so horrible, they couldn't save her from the colic," "People have been so nice," "Miz Lyons is still just devastated," and other such things were being said. I was clueless, unfortunately, but finally gathered that they were talking about the subject of the shrine. I didn't want to say, "Who was this horse and why was she so special?" when everyone else clearly knew, so I just stayed quiet. Rather than keep you all in the dark as well, I suggest you read this article regarding the wonderful race and brood mare.

One of the framed race photos on the wall in the foyer turned out to be the object of our visit, India:

She was quite a good race mare, winning over a half-million dollars on the track, if this is indeed her  (I'm pretty sure it is). Melissa had made friends with her while visiting the back stretch at Saratoga back in India's racing days.

I poked my head into the board room as the ladies were chatting, and spotted some books on the (enormous) table. I recognized one. Hey, it was that children's book about the retired race horse! *LIGHTBULB* I went over and picked it up, noticing the other book looked to be similar. Liz appeared in the doorway and said, "Help yourself - take one of each if you'd like, they're about two of our horses who are retired here." I told you she was nice! :-) I happily scooped them up. Here are the covers:

And here are a few pages from inside. Aren't the illustrations just gorgeous?

Skipingo originally sold for over $400,000 at Keeneland. He's a half-brother to the famous Skipaway, and Summer Wind owned his dam.

This illustration shows the beautiful gated entry to the farm (thought I took a picture but can't find it).

Incidentally, all proceeds from the sale of these books goes to organizations that promote TB rescue (quote). I felt a little guilty about getting them for free... but not that bad when I heard more about the Lyons'. There is definitely no shortage of the 'ole ready in this family. Mr. Lyons bought the farm for Mrs. Lyons because she'd always wanted a horse farm in the Bluegrass. Simple as that. Here are a few more details: http://www.kentuckyderby.com/contenders/connections/summer-wind-farm. I guess they've got a potential Derby runner in the lineup!

Once our introduction was over, we piled into Melissa's car and set out to meet the chestnut mare. We followed Liz who was piloting one of the farm vehicles. And it's a good thing, too, because let me tell you: the place is freakin' HUGE. If I thought the back roads around the farms were confusing, they have nothing on Summer Wind - it goes on and on and ON and the interior roads wind every which way. I'd have to use GPS if I worked there just to find the right barn or pasture! On the way to where we'd meet India, we passed the main house. Um, let's just say it wasn't small; in fact, I don't think I've ever seen a larger home in person. =:0 Very tasteful, white with columns, overlooking a small lake with swans on it and I'd guess in the neighborhood of 15,000 s.f. And no, this is not their primary residence. Ay carumba!

India was out in a very spacious pasture with a number of other broodmares, but a farm worker had lured her over to the gate with a bucket of grain, so she was waiting for us outside the fence. Here's a couple photos of the happy reunion between her and Melissa, her old race-days friend. Melissa was pretty sure she remembered her.

India was a sweet, pleasant and very pretty girl, and in immaculate condition.

I think she was/is expecting her second foal? Not sure how many times she's been bred.

I thought once we met India our time at Summer Wind would be up, but goodness, was I ever wrong. Liz was so excited to have visitors and peppered us with questions about what/who we wanted to see next. The yearlings? The cemetery? Skipingo and Primerica? OH, YES, we replied to the last. How cool would that be, to meet the subjects of the books! So into the cars we all went for more driving (and driving) until we arrived at the gelding's pasture...

TO BE CONTINUED!

Hobnobbing With The Bigwigs

Believe it or not, I actually have not finished writing about my trip to KY. I told you I packed a whole lot into two-and-a-half days! And there was that bit I mentioned about covering things A-Z...

While I was at Old Friends, I met that nice lady named Melissa, who hailed from upstate New York. As we were wrapping up the tour by perusing the offerings in the farm gift shop, I heard her ask her friend about what time they were supposed to be visiting India. I must admit to being a bit confused, given that we were standing in the middle of Kentucky. Silly me... of course they were talking about a horse! Specifically, a retired race mare, now a broodmare, a horse who Melissa had frequently visited in the shedrow at Saratoga and was very anxious to see again. She was living now back at Summer Wind farm right across the street from Old Friends. To my surprise, the ladies asked me if I would like to go with them to see the horse.

While I was in the midst of contemplating this kind offer (I didn't leap at it because I wasn't sure about wading into the middle of a happy reunion), another lady walked in. She knew the secretary at Old Friends and immediately told her about what a great time she'd just had visiting WinStar Farm, which was having an Open House in honor of Breeder's Cup weekend. WinStar Farm? Open House? REALLY? This certainly made me prick up my ears. Normally one has to make a reservation in advance to tour any of the big-time Bluegrass establishments, much less one which owns a Derby-winning stallion. That would be Super Saver, who came in first in 2010 under Calvin Borel (and I really do need to find that photo of me with Calvin to show you guys!). I asked the lady how long the Open House lasted and how far away the farm was. She said she expected they'd be open at least until 2:00 (it was about 12:45) and the farm was 20 minutes away. That did it - I hastily said goodbye to Melissa and friend and was in my car like a shot. I was most anxious to check out a premier breeding facility like the ones I'd been driving by, having only ever been to one in the past (Claiborne).

The only drawback to this instant plan was that it was lunch time and I was very, very hungry (Tinners Way was a long ways uphill at OF and we walked quite a distance to begin with). Fortunately I had some trail mix in the car, so in between stuffing a few handfuls of that in my mouth, phoning my husband to tell him my incredible luck in finding out about the Open House, and constantly checking the GPS (remember, this area is chock-full of back roads and winding lanes) I made it to WinStar in good time. I decided I would simply not worry about the fact that I was not dressed in anything remotely resembling "rich TB mare owner/breeder/trainer attire" and besides, pulling up in my eight-year-old Toyota minivan would probably give anyone scouting the parking lot a clue that I was not there to potentially blow a hundred thou on a stud fee. An Open House was an Open House, dammit, and hopefully they wouldn't care if the hoi polloi dropped in to get an eyeful of equine eye candy.

A nice young man directed me to a parking spot and I hopped out, determined to put on a brave exterior and act like I belonged (hah). The stallion barn at WinStar did NOTdisappoint, folks. You can go here to see a slideshow of the place, but here are my shots of the exterior:

And here's what I saw upon entering:

Most of the visitors were gathered in the central viewing area, where a magnificent specimen was already on display, headed by a stud groom. I gave him a wide berth (I could just see the headlines: "Deadly Spook Prompted By Visitor Kills Million-Dollar Stallion, WinStar Suing") and contented myself with taking a few (bad, as usual) photos.

This handsome fellow is Tiznow, who can be your mare's beau for a mere $75,000!

But what was that I smelled, and what were people holding? It looked a lot like sandwiches... hmmm. The siren call of my empty stomach led me around the corner into the office/lounge part of the building, where lo and behold, a caterer was ladling out hot soup and croissant sandwiches to hungry bystanders. I could hardly believe it. Not only was I going to see fabulous stallions in a gorgeous facility, they were going to feed me, too! I perched on the edge of a fancy leather chair while bolting a bowl of extremely hot and extremely good tomato soup and inhaling a sandwich. I really was cracking up internally at my good fortune. The things I've fallen into...

While I ate, I was able to watch a video loop on that screen above the door of the Breeder's Cup Classic, which had just been run the day before. The winner, Drosselmeyer, is by Distorted Humor - Winstar's top stallion, and will now be taking up stud duty there himself (for an introductory fee of $17,500).

Once I had dispensed with the growling tummy, I was able to check out the rest of the horses and the building. This is their premier sire Distorted Humor, in all his glory:

2008 Sire of the Year:

The stud fee? A cool $100,000. However, his tear sheet from the farm notes that one of his offspring was the highest-priced US 2yo in 2010, selling for $2.3 million, so if your mare is of sufficient quality (and I'm sure they all are!), you do stand a pretty good chance of earning your money back.

Tiznow and Distorted Humor themselves are responsible for millions and millions of dollar of earnings on the racetrack, and their progeny are following suit. I saw several other stallions brought out as well. Still, I was a little disappointed that Super Saver was not present, but away breeding in the southern hemisphere. It's okay - the last Derby winner I ran across I got to actually pet (Monarchos, at Claiborne).

This is the actual breeding area at WinStar, with padded walls all the way around. It's linked by a covered walkway to the stallion barn.

And here are the tags the grooms clip on the mares' halters to make extra, super, TRIPLY sure that they are being bred by the right guy:

Outside of the barn in the horseshoe-shaped arrangement of bushes, I found this plaque in the ground:

The fantastic stallion is buried there, according to his Wikipedia article. I'll admit I really didn't know much about him but I certainly recognize a lot of the horses in his pedigree (he shares Princequillo as a grandsire with Big Red), and he is Zenyatta's grandpap (Vertigineux's sire)!  I'm glad he is properly honored at WinStar.

Needless to say, it was all extremely impressive. If I was a TB breeder I would certainly be most interested in bringing a mare to this particular court. Incidentally, I was not the only 'tire kicker' visiting the farm that day. There were families with small children, there to show the kids the "pretty horsies," and other just plain enthusiasts, so I need not have worried about being an interloper. And guess who else showed up? Melissa and her friend, from my Old Friends visit. It turned out their appointment to see the now-retired mare at Summer Wind wasn't until 2:30, so they had time to come over to WinStar. Which is how I also found myself re-invited to join them at Summer Wind, and why you will next be reading about that, my last big adventure in KY this time around!

Shades Of His Father

Where do I start? This guy is my hero. I expect you will recognize him:

To me (and a lot of other people), Secretariat was like God reached down and designed the perfect horse. Incomparable beauty, blinding speed, poise, class, presence, you name it - Big Red had it all. When I get around to doing a little photographic tour of my home, you will find that I have Secretariat stuff all over the place. He's in a place of honor on the mantel, he's in the living room practically life-size, he's in the dining room - you get the idea. I love, adore and worship Big Red. Unfortunately, I was a big fat idiot and did not make the trip to Claiborne before he died. I guess I thought I would have time... nobody expected him to go at age 18. It's a huge regret of mine. Therefore, when I found out that a son of Secretariat, much less a red one, had moved to Old Friends, I was pretty darn excited. (Truth be told, I planned this whole trip with an eye on seeing him.)

His name is Tinners Way. He stands 16.1, was born in 1990 and is by Secretariat, out of Devon Diva, by The Minstrel. He was out of Red's last crop, and is considered to be one of his best sons. In fact, he is the very last surviving champion racehorse sired by Secretariat. Here is his race record and a race photo, taken from the website of the farm in TX where he used to stand.

Tinners Way retired as the richest horse in Texas

Multiple Grade 1 Stakes Winner of $1,847,734

* WON - Pacific Classic [G1] twice, Californian S [G1], Golden Gate Fields Budweiser Breeders' Cup

* PLACED - Hollywood Gold Cup [G1], Californian S [G1], San Bernardino H [G2], Goodwood H [G2], Mervyn Leroy H [G2], Bel Air H [G2], Arcadia H [G3]

* Equaled Track Records in both the Pacific Classic [G1] and the Californian Stakes [G1]

Not too shabby, eh? Tinner ran on both turf and dirt. Bobby Frankel trained him, and his complete record says a lot:

In all, Tinners Way led the way to the finish line 7 times in 27 starts, and placed or showed in an additional 10. He ran successfully (top 3 finisher) in 6 of 10 starts on grass and in 11 of 17 on dirt. He participated in 22 graded competitions completing 14 among the first 3 finishers with 4 firsts. He was considered one of the best handicap runners in the U.S. in the mid-1990s. His progeny have exceeded $3 million dollars in track earnings. (From this website)

Here's his stallion photo:

Definitely a resemblance to Dad... I see a bit of The Minstrel in there, too.

But enough of the racing stuff. What was Tinner like now, in retirement at Old Friends? I could hardly wait to find out. When I was with Wendy, I mentioned to her that I was really excited to meet him. She and her husband go fairly often to OF to photograph horses, so I knew she would know him. Wendy told me, "Well, you better be ready. Tinner doesn't look very good. He's a neurotic horse; he runs the fence line incessantly and they can't keep weight on him. They had to take him off the tour because he was upsetting visitors." Oh dear, I thought... what was this guy going to be like? Would I even be allowed to see him? You can imagine my distress at the thought of finally getting myself thisclose to Big Red's DNA, only to be told he was off-limits.

You can bet that as soon as our volunteer tour guide at Old Friends asked our group is there was any horse in particular we wanted to see, I spoke right up and said, "Tinners Way. Please?!?" FORTUNATELY, Melissa and her friend were also interested in seeing him and said so, too. The guide looked us up and down and I guess he decided we looked "horsepeople" enough because he said, "Ok. When the tour is over you guys can go up the hill and see him." Thank heavens.

Accordingly, as soon as the rest of the tour was done and the other people were dispersing, the three of us made tracks towards Tinner's paddock. I had strained for a glimpse of him all along, and I'm afraid I rather left the other two ladies in the dust in my haste to get there. I guessed which paddock belonged to Tinner before I really saw him or read his name on the fence; the ground was very torn up from his hooves. Tinner was standing quietly, lipping some hay off the ground near his waterer. A smallish-looking, NOT too ribby, slightly-hairy horse, modeled in bright chestnut. He turned to look at me. I called his name, and over he came.

Well, HI THERE Little Red!

I was quick to give him some of the cookies and carrot pieces I had stuffed in my pockets. He was a perfect gentleman, accepting the treats gracefully and chewing away. The way the paddock was situated on a hill, we were at a disadvantage since the ground fell away and the fence was really high. I was not able to get a really good photo of him (or hug him around the neck like I really wanted to do) because of that. I did breathe gently in his nostrils and tell him that I loved his daddy and was so very glad to meet him. Tinner and I visited alone like this for a while before Melissa and her friend arrived. All I could think was, I love this horse. He is fine. He is sweet. He's a good boy. Why is he stuck up here by himself? This horse is lonely! (Note: he isn't really alone, Williamstown's paddock is right across from his and they interact with each other. I mean for human company.)

Compare that photo of Tinner to this one of his dad, in a playful mood:

Photo by Steve Haskin, Bloodhorse magazine columnist/blogger and all-around TB racing guru

Maybe I am full of it, and projecting too much of my desire to "know" Secretariat better, but I truly did feel like Tinner and I bonded. I rubbed him all over, as much of him as I could reach. Yes, I could feel his ribs and see them a little, but he wasn't nearly as thin as I'd expected (I know what a really underweight TB looks like and it ain't pretty). Tinner was perfectly happy to let me do all this. There was no sign of hyperactivity, no nervousness on view. Yes, I believe he is that way - hence the chewed-up ground - but with me, he was perfectly alright. I spent a total of at least fifteen minutes with him. 

Here are the best photos I got of my friend Tinners Way :

I wanted to open the gate, lead him out, load him in a trailer and take him home. I had to tear myself away from this horse - oh yes, I kissed his nose, too - and as I finally walked away I could hardly see from all the tears running down my face. I think Tinner is beautiful and special and misunderstood...

I heartily encourage you to visit and otherwise support Old Friends. Besides the stallions, they also house some very deserving TB mares and geldings (including Sea Native/Rhett, who belongs to my friend and reader of this blog!). They get the bulk of my miniscule charitable dollars, and I can't imagine a better use of my money. It's a unique facility and a shining example of what a really top-notch rescue looks like. Zenyatta's owners, Jerry and Ann Moss, are enormous sponsors of the place and have done much to publicize Old Friends in the racing community. Several top jockeys, such as Calvin Borel, are also big supporters of Old Friends. I wish I could remember which one visited and climbed right aboard his old mount bareback - believe me, I thought about that when I was standing there with Tinner. Oh, to feel the wind in my face from the back of Secretariat's son... 

I will leave you with this great photo of Tinners Way that someone took of him, shortly after he arrived at Old Friends. I think you can tell why I like it so much - he looks happy and so much like his dad. 

Fun Times With Old Friends

Finally.

I have finally arrived at the phase of my KY trip that I've been looking forward to writing about the most. I probably should have just skipped ahead, but I feel driven to record things in chronological order. Maybe that's goofy but I have so much disorder in the rest of my life, the least I can do is try and keep this blog shipshape!

On Monday morning, the day after the Maclay and the National Horse Show ended, I had made a reservation to tour a facility very near and dear to my heart: Old Friends Equine Retirement. Before I went there for the first time two years ago, I had spent much time perusing their website and acquainting myself with some of their fabulous Thoroughbred residents. If you have never heard of Old Friends, that's okay: here is an article that pretty much sums up how it got started and some information on the wonderful person who is the founder, Michael Blowen. I had a fantastic time on my first visit and the place more than lived up to my expectations. All the residents, both human and equine, and all the volunteers could not have been more welcoming, friendly and HAPPY. I was very excited to go back on this visit!

I love old animals. The wisdom and acceptance in their eyes, their joy in the simplest of pleasures, their (usually) calm and patient demeanor, everything. It makes me feel murderous when I read about geriatric equines or canines who have been dumped at shelters or abandoned because they were simply too much trouble, or someone wanted a "newer model." That just blows my mind (it should not surprise me, however; Lord knows enough old humans get parked in a care facility and are never visited by their families).

Old Friends came about because Michael (Blowen) realized that old or simply retired Thoroughbred stallions in particular were meeting with a bad end, often because they truly had nowhere else to go. Rescues do not like stallions, which need to be housed separately and are viewed with suspicion by many. TB stallions in particular are often thought to be nasty, vicious, wild and crazy beasts. Yep, they can be real man-eaters, alright. Take this one, for example:

Watch out, you might be nuzzled to death and mugged for treats! Allow me to introduce you to the late, great Black Tie Affair. I had the honor of meeting this splendid Breeder's Cup Classic champion and winner of +$3,000,000 the last time I was at Old Friends in 2009. "Blackie" was the dearest, sweetest fellow imaginable and still handsome, once you got past his shockingly huge melanomas. When Michael got him he was severely underweight and practically immobilized with arthritis (he'd been at a farm in WV, where they were still trying to breed him in that condition at age 22 - nice, eh?). The TLC he got at Old Friends resulted in him being able to get up and down to roll, gain hundreds of needed pounds and generally enjoy life for the little time he had left before they lost him to laminitis.

On this visit I joined a group of about 10 other people in front of their headquarters building, a tiny converted house (a somewhat larger home on the main property is Michael's residence, which is also operated as a B & B). One thing about this nonprofit that I can vouch for - they do NOT waste money on unnecessary luxuries. There is hardly any paid staff and most everything, including tours, is carried out by an army of dedicated volunteers. As soon as my group headed down the path towards the first paddock, I noticed a lady wearing stirrup earrings and equestrian attire. The rest of the crowd looked like "horse-likers" but not serious horse folk. The lady also noticed me and we started to talk. She turned out to be named Melissa, and she was down in KY for the Breeder's Cup, the National Horse Show, and other attractions. About the first thing she told me was, "I live in New York but come down here to visit Mecca whenever possible." I laughed because that is exactly what I tell people when I'm off to the Bluegrass, too!

We proceeded along the farm path to the first paddock, where we were greeted by the beautiful Kiri's Clown:

Doesn't this boy have a really Arab-looking head? My friend Wendy's horse Ollie does, too. I think it's neat when TBs harken back to their founding fathers! 

At least I think that's who this is. I was going to take down the names of all the horses we saw, but there was too much going on to be tapping away on my phone. Carrots and cookies to hand out, noses and cheeks to be stroked, etc. Plus, I was busy talking to Melissa and her friend about racing, bloodlines and other horse topics.

I didn't get too many other good pictures, so I'll just share the ones that did turn out. Here's one of my favorite horses, Bull In The Heather:

From the OF website:
Bull In the Heather is the greatest son of Ferdinand, the 1986 Kentucky Derby winner whose death in a slaughterhouse in 2001 helped drive the formation of Old Friends. (One of my better photographic efforts!) 

I remembered from my first tour that "Bull" simply adores having his back scratched, so I climbed up on the bottom fence rail and went at it. He leaned into my fingers, groaning in pleasure and flapping his lip. I tell you, these nasty 'ole TB stallions... I wound up with filthy hands but he was very happy. The filthy part actually didn't bother me; one of the cool things about OF is that the horses are allowed to be, well, horses. They live in roomy paddocks with run-in sheds, are unblanketed, and are free to get as shaggy and dirty as they like. They are groomed occasionally and feet/teeth are done, of course, but basically it's back-to-nature livin' for these guys.

Post back-scratch. We were definitely buddies.

This fellow was brand-new to the farm and I thought he was just gorgeous! This is You and I:

I can't tell you much about him, other than that he was sweet and handsome. He was too new for our tour guide to know any fun facts.

The famous and now sire of very famous racehorses Gulch declined to leave his grazing to come greet us, but we did get to pet and hang out with Clever Allemont, Ogygian (rescued from a slaughter pen), Popcorn Deelites (he played Seabiscuit in the movie) and many others, along with catching a glimpse of Marquetry, who was recovering from colic surgery. I was disappointed because I wanted to see his nifty splash white markings. However, all of these great horses were merely a preamble to the one horse I was really there to see. And he wasn't even on the tour...

TO BE CONTINUED!