The plus side of the two and a half hour early trip to Bottle Tree
is passing the golden arches.
Horses were run
and given a thorough inspection after what seemed a long break since last saddle up.
Wal looking exactly as I felt, though at least I had the sense to don appropriate riding apparel. Fortunately jeans had been packed for both he and Sal, also resplendant in beach attire. Who's to argue with a barely awake child pre-dawn.
Sarah's day started better than it ended
with her old bronc obviously feeling the affects of a recent inch of rain and flush of green feed. Dropping his head and fully 'putting it to her', Sarah rather unceremoniously was planted in the dirt. Unenthusiastically re-mounting, the silent tears that continued to flow for the next half hour resulted in Mum and Sarah undertaking a mid-paddock steed-swap.
I now have serious doubts of ever re-claiming my beloved Black Bob.
Although Wallace didn't remember his strides, he did bring a gun. Priorities.
Another load gone to the meatworks. Very little rain to report, 24 mm at Rock Wallaby for the week, 37 at Bottle Tree. We'll try not to let it worry us yet.