Many of my distant and not-so-distant ancestors were dependent on horses for transportation and for labor, and spent much of their days working with and caring for their animals. Every once in awhile, I have the chance to experience a 21st century version of this lifestyle over a brief weekend, by traveling with one of my horses to a polocrosse tournament in central Texas. Polocrosse is a sort of hybrid between polo and lacrosse, developed in Australia, and imported to the US within the past few decades. It is a sport well-suited for the equestrian inhabitants of rangeland, such as South Australians, Texans, and the Rohirrim – plenty of galloping and bravado and racquet-smacking and dust.
Nevertheless, we are 21st century humans, who do not venture into the wilds northeast of Austin without our iPhones, Gatorade, or folding chairs … nor without large living quarters trailers, equipped with plumbing and electricity, like the one my friends have (in the photo below). The trailer also has a roll-out awning that creates a porch, and I’m fairly certain that my horsepeople ancestors did not lounge around in the shade during the heat of the day, drinking chilled Perrier and reading European crime fiction. This weekend’s polocrosse tournament was an informal play-day, and because daytime temperatures top out at 101-105°F, we play our matches at night, from 7:30PM to 1:00AM, on a lighted field (you can see the lights in the photo below). The horses stay in temporary pens created with electrified tape, or with portable fence panels, and are provided with plenty of water, coastal hay, and electrolyte supplements, added to their grain. Humans stay in trailers or in tents, and I always opt for a tent, because the stars in a clear Texas night sky, once the field and trailer lights are turned off, are spectacular. You know, deep in the heart of Texas, and all that. Nighttime temperatures are usually in the 70s in the summer, and perfectly comfortable. I’ve also camped out at tournaments in the winter, when temperatures can dip close to freezing, but with a decent sleeping bag it’s really not unpleasant to sleep outdoors for a couple of nights.
Team meeting over breakfast.
(Sorry for the poor-quality photo; I think I need to clean my iPhone or its case.)
On Saturday morning, a swarm of honey bees swirled through the assembled trailers, tents, and horse pens, and although they were not aggressive, they created a lot of havoc. Bee swarms develop when the colony becomes overcrowded, and the old queen takes most of the workers to relocate to a new site. There are scouts and “streaker bees” associated with the swarm, who organize the search. Since there isn’t yet a hive to defend, the workers are not aggressive when swarming, and throughout the whole swarming incident, I don’t think anyone was stung.
After buzzing the trailers and horses a few times, the queen bee and her swarm settled on the bumper of a pickup truck, under the tailgate, in a mass that was about 8 inches in diameter. The truck owner drove off to have the bees removed, leaving behind a number of disoriented workers from the swarm (or perhaps returning scouts). These bees bothered our horses – not by stinging them, apparently, but the horses just didn’t like the bees. They shuddered and stomped and kicked and bucked in their pens, and at one point, the beephobic horse on the right ran through the center lines of (barely) electrified tape, threatening to pull down the entire pen. I secured the perimeter first, but then had two mares and two geldings in the same large pen, with the center dividers collapsed. All these horses know each other well, live in adjoining paddocks 24/7, and as you can see in the photo, co-exist peacefully when there are boundaries. The two mares, on the left in the photo (the one in the foreground is my horse), cornered the beephobic gelding and proceeded to bite his neck. Not in a nice way, either. I finally got the horses separated, and restored the center lines in the pen, and (relative) peace returned to the afternoon.
In spite of the heat and dust, it was lovely to spend the weekend outdoors, engaged in fun activities, for the most part. In addition to the honey bees, we saw numerous other examples of Texas wildlife, including Whitetail Deer, Turkey Vultures, White-winged Doves, and Common Egrets. However, with a severe drought, and unusually extended periods of 100°F+ daytime temperatures, I wonder how much longer such activities will be possible in Central Texas. I suspect polocrosse players in Australia may be wondering the same thing about their sport.
Lovely post, Kristi.
drinking chilled Perrier and reading European crime fiction
You’re quite sure Maxine wasn’t with you?
You’re quite sure Maxine wasn’t with you?
It was indeed a Maxine-recommended crime novel that I was reading: Stieg Larsson’s The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. As the setting is winter in Sweden, I though it was appropriate reading for Texas summer days.
Meanwhile, Caroline is into her fifth week at Dave’s garage…
I envy you the night sky – no chance of that in London even when there are no clouds. I remember being astonished by the sky on nights I spent in Arizona.
I snapped this last year in Sicily:
Not bad – but my recollection is that Arizona was way better…
I envy you the night sky – no chance of that in London even when there are no clouds. I remember being astonished by the sky on nights I spent in Arizona.
I snapped this last year in Sicily:
Not bad – but my recollection is that Arizona was way better…
Sound fun- so the truck drove the Queen and most of the swarm off on the bumper? Do you know where they went?
@Stephen The night sky in Arizona is amazing (dry, lack of light pollution)
@ Stephen: West Texas is even better for starry night skies; there’s the McDonald Observatory near Fort Davis to visit, if you’re ever driving through.
@ Sabbi: The driver told me he took the truck to a high-power car wash in Manor (that’s “MAYnerrr”). There are businesses that specialize in honey bee removal, but I don’t think he had time for that.
Man alive poor bees! (Though I secretly think it would be fun to go through a carwash myself). I wonder if the bees regrouped afterward, as the Queen was with them.
@ Sabbi: I felt a little bad about the bees, since they weren’t the aggressive, weaponized kind. But there really wasn’t the opportunity to find a beekeeper to capture them and remove them properly. The car wash was a good solution under the circumstances, and perhaps some of the bees enjoyed it, after swarming through Anfauglith, the Gasping Dust (aka Central Texas).
Caroline, my 13-year-old eVolvo and star of a forthcoming film, has now been at the garage for five weeks, while my garage man tries to make her perform WORSE so that it conforms to gummint emission regulations, which I am convinced is part of a conspiracy to cattleprod everyone to scrap their old cars and buy new ones.
while my garage man tries to make her perform WORSE
You know, as a confirmed Luddite who becomes more resistant and grumpy about educational “advances” with each passing year, I can relate to Caroline’s situation. If my teaching methods with chalk drawings and polymer clay work well and are effective and engaging for the students (which they are, demonstrably), why should I change? Why should I be cattleprodded with technological tinkering?
Similarly, I do not want a Kindle. I do not want it with a spindle, especially as my eyes do dwindle. I do not want my books on iPod. I do not want them with a tripod. I do not like
green eggs and hamthem, Sam I am. Let me be a Luddite brave. I will go live in a cave.Similarly, I do not want a Kindle. I do not want it with a spindle, especially as my eyes do dwindle. I do not want my books on iPod. I do not want them with a tripod. I do not like
green eggs and hamthem, Sam I am. Let me be a Luddite brave. I will go live in a cave.This is the most beautiful thing I’ve read in ages. May I join your order please?
May I join your order please?
Certainly. But first, you should provide a list of Luddite skills and knowledge. For example, mine include knitting, crochet, hand-sewing, quilting, weaving, cooking, canning, horse care and training, basic woodcraft, and vegetable/herb gardening.
That really was awesome, Kristi!
I noticed yesterday that someone in my building has a bike with the word Luddite emblazoned on it. Presumably it’s a brand, although not one I’d heard of before.
Um, er… I can canoe, after a fashion. And catch vanishingly small fish with a thirty-year-old rod and reel combination. I take pictures with “film” sometimes too, and enjoy reading “books” made of “paper”.
Does S-35 sequencing on PAGE slab gels count as a Luddite skill?
Fishing and canoeing are good. Coturnix collected a long list of Luddite lab skills at his blog; I’ll see if I can find the link.
I do not like words on a screen.
On cybertexts I am not keen.
I will not read them on a Kindle.
I will not, as my eyes do dwindle.
I would not, could not, on a blog.
I would not, could not, with a vlog.
I will not read them on the Twitter.
I will not read them with e-glitter.
I will not give them one short look.
I will not read them, Took-my-Book.
I do not like to read on Blogger.
I’d rather chop, like a real logger.
I do not like that thing called Facebook.
It makes me sad. I will not look.
I do not understand my iThing.
Guitar and harp, they make me sing.
Project Gutenberg is cool, it’s true,
But made of electrons, not paper and glue.
I will agree with darling Kristi -
It’s old-fashioned books make my eyes go misty.
[gak. that were awful, that were]
Of course, it’s kind of ironic that we’re posting bad Luddite poetry on a blog. Heh. ;-)
Kristi and Richard poor’s can not do anything, are no free.