backtracking

Got great news! Toni, a member of AZBTR (who has never met me) is
going to haul us past the Phoenix metroplex Saturday, to her place in
West Queen Valley, south of town.

Last night was a pleasant stay at the racing barn, me in the tack room and
Walter in a ritzy pen with shavings. Trainer Juan's wife brought me
hot soup with the thinnest, best tortillas ever.

Today, rode off to get another 12-15 miles closer to Toni's spread, and find another
place to stay tonight. This is a very wealthy area near Scottsdale. The main road
we rode along is lined with huge million-dollar equestrian estates, elegant high-end boarding stables and training barns. All of them are behind locked automatic gates that open only to
vehicles. What side roads I tried out lead either to locked back entrances or to non-horse-property suburban houses, thier landscaped front yards planted with carefully chosen cacti.

We rode past all the fancy estates to the outskirts, where groomed grounds
gave way to empty desert and dirt roads leading to the occasional California-style house. No horse properties though, oddly. Then nothing, just desert hills as far as the eye could see.

We turned back.

We had travelled maybe 8 miles. We backtracked about 6 more miles before I
finally spotted a house with empty pens and what looked like an open side entrance. As I struggled with the wire ranch gate next to a cattle guard, a man stopped his car to offer help and ask who I was. Ron then called the neighbors - who weren't home - and got us permission to stay.

Tonight we are grateful guests of Dana and Trish, who own a pawn shop and have
6 dogs, 2 cats and no horses. That's right, they sold their last two horses three days ago.
Shower and cold milk (which I've craved, my body must need it), aaah!

Walter was pacing frantically alone in his pen, calling to the neighbor's horse. So
I pitched my tent in the pen next to his to keep him company. It
worked. He's quiet now, calmly munching hay pellets.

Early next morning...