Three years ago, at this time of the year, I was busy driving a team of draft horses at a resort near Estes Park, Colo., taking guests for a spin.
I first fell in love with draft horses when I was a carriage driver in Savannah. They were truly gentle giants and I truly enjoyed my work until management discovered I was also pretty handy with a gooseneck trailer in downtown traffic and I got moved to the transportation team and out of driving When we lived at Boise City and I was gifted a pair of draft fillies to gentle and train. In that time they learned to be handled, pick up their feet, and carry a harness, although they were never hitched to anything because of their youth.
Later, when we lived near Steamboat Springs, the ranch fed cattle with draft horses. The Redheaded Stranger drove but I was often around and watching the ranch owner handle the lines was a thing of beauty. He could turn the leaders (front team) 90 degrees from the swing horses (second team) to pull the sleds out of a tight spot and he made it look easy. It is a level of driving to which I aspire.
But that December in Colorado was special for me. I daily walked among the draft horses that were unknown to most of the staff and developed teams, choosing which ones could work together and which ones weren’t likely to work at all.
For example, we were sent a ‘team’ by the absentee owner. They were wild as bucks until they were caught, but the mare would settle down immediately. The gelding, though, would not have his feet trimmed by any means and turned out to be broken winded as well. He went into the dink pen and the mare was given a new partner.
Her mane was so long, blond (they were Belgian horses) and beautiful the name Farrah was perfect. Another, larger mare I called Valka was selected for her teammate.
After a few false starts, they learned to work together like they had been doing it all their lives. When a team is in sync, very little is finer than that. They move in unison and truly share the load.
Add to that plenty of fresh clean snow and it is possible to forget the temperature is hovering around 10 degrees and there are ice crystals – sometimes called diamond dust – floating in the air.
One particular evening as we were finishing the last ride for the day, the mares were in fine fettle, the sleigh bells were singing merrily and the children aboard were belting carols into the still evergreen forest. The peaks were reflecting the last rays of the sun, coating the entire scenario in a rosy light.
For that one moment, in a faraway forest on a faraway mountain, holding the lines, all was right with the world.
It remains a favorite, perfect holiday memory.