The Bicentennial Wagon Train Pilgrimage to Pennsylvania

Jul 7, 2026

It happened 50 years ago this summer. Do you remember? Did you see any of the five wagon trains that retraced their trails from West to East to Valley Forge, PA to celebrate our Bicentennial?

An article in Western Horseman magazine about the Wagon Train sparked the interest of our adventurous mother. She planned running the caverns without us around our summer help. She wanted Chipley, myself and two fellas that worked at the caverns, Kent and Jeff, to join us for this month long adventure.

We four teenagers loved horses and a month off from summer work sounded great. Especially a month of seeing the country on horseback and being a part of this unique countrywide Bicentennial celebration.

She invited the Southern Train to camp on our property, Endless Caverns in New Market, VA. They arrived on June 10, 1976. Colonel Toby was the Wagon Master.

What a day it was! None of us had ever seen so many wagons, teams of horses and outriders. It was spectacular!

*What a day it was when the Wagon Train rolled into the caverns! That’s me looking back at them!*

*So many wagons, teams of horses, and outriders.* *It was thrilling to experience and be a part of.*

They camped one night. I remember as the host for the night we were to have a bit of entertainment. Mom wrote a little play about John Sevier. Not a Broadway show, but fun just the same as all pitched in.

Early next morning was heard our Wagon Master Colonel Toby call out loudly, ” Wagons Ho!”

When the sounds of hooves, harnesses, wagon wheels and men telling their teams to “Git up!” began to fill the air.

There we joined in the ride and an adventure of a lifetime.

*Mom mounted on her Saddlebred, Snip. Carl, our soon-to-be stepfather beside her. My twin, Chipley standing beside her mount, Missy.*

We have our strong, adventurous mother to thank for this remarkable ride. Mounted on her Saddlebred, Snip, she was the force behind we four teenagers to make it the entire 370 miles to PA. Her strength and determination carried us to the end of the trail.

*Chipley and Kent were married the following summer. They have had a grand lifetime together with their six children and beautiful horses.*

*This was our school bus converted to our horse trailer/camper! It garnered much attention.* *Mom made the patriotic curtains that gave privacy in the camper part.*

*We had a support team that followed from camp to camp when supplies were needed.* *Mom is standing in background cheering for us!*

*Our friends from Burbank, Calif, the LeValleys, rode with us for awhile.*

Riders were invited to ride for as long as they wanted. Some rode for a day, or several days. We rode to the end—Valley Forge, PA. Arriving July 3, 1976.

*Wagons went before we riders on the trail.*

Truly the ride of a lifetime. Thank you, Mom.

P.S. This was not the only adventure our mother went on. She and Carl canoed 1,000 miles on the Mackenzie River and the next year 1,400 miles on the Yukon River in the Northwest Territories of Alaska. Life was and is a great adventure.

*Carl made one these for each of us. Enduring memories.*

Mornings on Horseback

Jun 30, 2026

Mornings on Horseback is the a great book written by David McCullough about our 26th President, Theodore Roosevelt. It is about his early life, and is a fine read.

This post is not about the book though. I am borrowing the title only, because I think about it while out riding my little mare, High Hope, on quiet, early mornings, and riding Duke, my senior Tennessee Walking horse in the early mornings on horseback.

My lovely, enthusiastic niece along with her most-capable husband came for a visit last month. She is an outstanding horsewoman. We went riding here around the farm and neighborhood.

She inspired me so much with her positive outlook and confidence in my riding at my age. Let’s just say I ain’t the horse I used to be. I decided to start riding High Hope three times a week, and Duke, our senior horse, two times a week around the farm and neighborhood.

Our mornings on horseback are early (we are back by 7:30ish), and ride about 30-35 minutes.

But boy, it is terrific! We are the only ones out that early, except busy bunnies running all around, the air is cool and delightful.

I smile the whole time. We have met our early morning neighbor on occasion on the road. He told me “You look so happy.”

I have no photos because the device is not invited to join us—just me and my horse. So I have a couple photos of my horses.

Duke is my senior. Though I do not know for sure, we guess him around 30 years old. He is a gentleman. Tennessee Walking horses were the horse of choice for early Virginia plantation owners. Their easy gates make for smooth riding while checking long fence lines.

*High Hope has been with me since she was 1 month old. We are pals and have spent many, many hours together*.

*She is now 21 years old. She and I are old friends.*

Well, it’s early this Tuesday morning. Time for my morning on horseback…

Happy Tuesday to you.

Farm Life—What’s Your Life?

Jul 12, 2025

Life on the farm is unique. What compares? Share your thoughts. We grow our own food, raise a bunch of critters, have a bunch of fun, love the land. Outdoors is best. I’m bias? Yes, I am… May I ask you this—Do you love the land?

How about you? What’s your ‘jam’? Tell us, please! As my mother used to say, “It takes all kinds to make this world, Midy”.

She was right.

*Pond reflections of windmill.* *Have you ever considered the life of a pond?*

*Good day of fishing…* *he is the small one….*

*Nothing like line-dried clothes, yeah!*

*Our broody hen, Fifi…setting on 7 fertile eggs.*

*Coveralls are essential items out here! I love this land. I love my farm…what do YOU love?*

What’s Your Name?

Jun 13, 2025

We all have more than one name. Think about it. How many names do you have? Mom, Honey, Babe, Aunt, Granny, Mrs., and sometimes, “Hey, you!”

I have another name too. All the animals know it well. Know what it is?

FOOD!

Oh, it is sweet to think when our animals look at me, whinny, moo or follow me it is because they love me so. But it is not. Truth is, they are

HUNGRY!

Yes, in their world, my name is Food.

My husband says I am not happy unless I am feeding something. Guess he is right.

They also have the mistaken notion that every time I come around them I owe them a treat. I do admit these animals are a bit spoiled. Most especially our horses. They are all seniors. In my mind they have earned their semi-retirement. Their treats are their ‘retirement pay.’

But, good grief, must they stare at me with such begging faces? Tell me, could you tell these faces no to an iddy-biddy treat?

*Fork it over, I can smell it in your pocket.*

Tell me, how can these faces be turned down for treats?

You want Me to do What?

Mar 16, 2025

Have you ever been asked to perform a job you felt was far beyond your ability or know how?

If so, you might relate to the way I felt when my boss asked if I would clean up the three Civil War saddles in our Stonewall Jackson Museum.

A cold shiver passed through me. Museum saddles from the Civil War? I have never even dared to touch one in that beautiful museum, never-mind the thought of cleaning one!

Certainly working ten years as a docent did not qualify me for this task. However, I am a horsewoman. I have cleaned my own tack hundreds of times over the years and been inside many harness shops talking to and learning from the men. But, as they say, “That’s a horse of a different color!” My tack is not on display nor full of historic value.

“You know about saddles, Mitzy. They need attention.” Her confidence surely was greater than mine.

May I tell you how my mind started churning? Like the little gizmo on the computer when it is ‘thinking’, so turned my mind. What do they need? Do I have the proper supplies? How can I be sure I won’t damage them?

The tote bag was full of every leather cleaning product I own along with several white cotton cloths. Some for clearing away dust, others for oiling. As I mounted the stairs to the second floor where the saddles were on display, past conversations with harness/leather men over the years flooded my mind.

There they were, beautifully displayed in this fine museum. Setting the supplies down, I gazed at these wonderful pieces of American history. Plaques on each display told their story.

After examining them, I decided the best thing was Neatsfoot oil. Like my hands in winter the leather was dry and cracked. Obviously soap cleaning was out of the question. These saddles needed oil. Some areas were dry-rotted. This means it is beyond repair.

I began with the one that appeared in best shape. It was Turner Ashby’s saddle.

*Did you read that last sentence? **Only** known example of this type in existence?*

*Turner Ashby’s saddle. It is beautiful.*

Gently, gently did I apply oil and wiped softly with the cotton cloth on the leather in the seat. The response was an answer to prayer. The leather took it beautifully! A peek on the underneath revealed mold. Mold on leather is like rust on a car—deadly. My boss held the saddle up so I could apply oil and remove the mold. Another score!

Feeling a bit more confident, I started on the other two. To my great joy and delight they responded as well.

I do not know how long I was there so full of careful thoughts towards the care of these historic pieces. I do know I can thank the memory of conversations with those smart harness men that knew far more than I. It was as if I could hear them speaking to me, guiding my thoughts and hands.

*Bradley Johnson had to have been very proud of this saddle.*

I saved the worse-worn saddle for last. It was pretty well dry-rotted, however, it did respond to the Neatsfoot oil.

Here is a photo of each one after oiling. Are you able to see a difference?

*I oiled all of it, leather, wooden tree and metal.*

*This one was in the worse shape, but still looks better.*

If ever in town, take time to visit Stonewall Jackson Museum. You will be glad you did.

Summer Horse Camp 101

Jul 15, 2024

Saturday, June 30th, was a fun day here on the farm. We held a Summer Horse Camp 101 during the morning from 9:30-noon. Our six wranglers ranged in age from 5 to 11 years old. Some with horse experience others with none.

Three adults for the six wranglers worked very well for us. A close eye must be kept on everyone around horses.

Children and horses go well together, so long as the horse does not have a fractious disposition and is well handled. I have had horses over the years I would not trust with children. However, our animals are well child-proofed for they have been around children all their lives.

As my dear horse-owning friend says, “You can trust these horses, and you can’t trust these horses.” True, so true. Horses are a preyed upon animal and as such are naturally wary. They must be taught to trust humans. Children are terrific at teaching horses to trust us.

That being said, we must always have “our horse brain on” when working around these big strong animals that are able to spook faster than we can blink an eye. We must think like a horse instead of wanting/expecting our horses to think like a human.

Talking of these things while petting them, walking around them, and riding them seemed interesting to our wranglers. They enjoyed a brief bareback ride around the stalls, learning how to measure them in hands, learning the points of the horse and taping, with masking tape, the points directly on the horse.

Snacks fueled the wranglers for the last part of camp. Pony rides on High Hope and Duke, and painting the ponies!

One mom said if we were having another camp, they would come again. Perhaps we will!

*They sat bareback for a brief ride in the stalls.*

*Taping the points of the horse on High Hope.*

*Our experienced wrangler picking the hoof .*

*Painting the ponies was great fun. Duke is getting his hooves painted.*

*Looks like ‘happy’ to me! My Indian pony, High Hope.*

Your Favorite Season?

Feb 22, 2024

Four seasons comprise a year where we live here in Virginia. Right now about four weeks remain for this winter season. This cannot go by fast enough for my husband. Winter wins hands down for his least favorite season. Summer is his favorite.

It seems most folk I talk to say Spring is their favorite. I have heard it said that the season one is born in is the favorite. Have you heard that before? It does not hold true for me.

I was born in summer, but I cannot say it is my favorite. When asked, my general response is, “The season we are in right now is my favorite”. Because of my enjoyment of photography, there is something lovely and unique in each season. Though I find it much easier to add layers of clothing when it is cold. I mean there is only so much to be taken off when hot.

Fuzzy winter-coat horses are cozy and warm too. The best hand warmer around is between a horses elbow and belly, or under a full winter mane and neck. Duke looks like a fuzzy black bear in his winter coat. High Hope is not as fuzzy. The minis, Snowbell and Raggedy, look like two little fur balls rolling around like a tumbleweed.

When the wind blows their coats shimmer and wave like tall grasses on the prairie. Steam blowing from their noses makes them snort and blow more. I think it makes them feel big and strong!

Blue and white are my favorite colors, so I suppose if I had to choose a season, it would be winter.

*My favorite colors, blue and white, match the winter season*.

*Raggedy looks like a rolling fur ball.*

*I suppose if I had to choose, winter would be my favorite.*

What is your favorite season?

We’ll Weather the Weather

Jan 22, 2024

Whatever the weather,

Whether we like it or not.

So ends a cute childs poem about the weather. I’ll post the entire poem at the end of this blog.

I enjoy poetry and spent much time listening our mom read it to us even into adulthood. She could read beautifully outloud. This in itself is an art. I too read poetry to our children, some like it, some do not. C’est la vie.

But this post is not about poetry. It is about weathering the weather. The animals on our small farm need daily attention. Twice day is the everyday normal. Often frigid cold weather requires at least a third trip to the barn. Our horses are all seniors. Our youngest, High Hope, is eighteen years old. They are all in great condition, nonetheless, seniors require a bit more than younger horses.

Duke, our oldest at 25/26 years old (we don’t really know how old he is), is the one I will go out to care for in the middle of a wintery cold day. This week has been just that, bitter cold and terribly windy. It is the wind that concerns me the most.

I turn them out after feeding every morning. They can stay around the barn or head out to the snow covered fields, their choice. I have never blanketed them with the exception of our very old miniature, BR, who died peacefully in his stall at thirty-four years old a couple years ago.

Duke still has good body fat on him in part because I grain him twice a day year-round. Except for cold weather. I will go out at midday to grain him again, and spread more hay for the others.

This week has been snowing with bitter winds blowing for several days. The horses actually came in before I got out. Their whinnies told me to hurry up!

Three nights were spent in their stalls with fresh straw thickly spread. Even the chickens were happy for that. They love pecking in straw!

Looks as if the bitter cold has passed for now. All is well. Glory to God.

*He’d had enough of the blistering wind and drifting snow.*

*Snow on Raggedy’s face from digging in snow for grass. I did brush it off.*

*Can you see the fine snow on High Hopes rump and blowing in the air? Brrrrr…..*

*Chickens have a great time scratching in straw!*

*Wait ’till they see their bedroom for the night!*

*Everyone all tucked in for yet another cold winter night here on our little farm.*

How About You?

Jan 6, 2024

I grew up on a big farm, we now live on a small one. Just the same, animals have been a part of my entire life. They have taught me more than I may ever realize.

I am also a photographer. Though that title seems not to fit me, as I don’t really consider myself a photographer. Yet, I’ve taken photos since I got my first Kodak camera at eleven years old. Many moons have passed since then.

I am also unashamedly a Christian. These three loves of my life have lived together in harmony and beautifully. Hardly a day goes by where these three passions do not meet.

May I prove my point to you and share a few photographs of my love of animals and farm life and beliefs?

May you find your peace, joy and passion in this New Year…I have a thought, ask God. He loves to answer the seekers of life. God bless you.

How about you? Where do you find meaning and direction and purpose in this earthly, ephemeral life?

The Lord causes rain to fall on the earth.

The Daily Game of Hide n’ Seek

Sep 6, 2023

I play hide n’ seek everyday with Duke. I never thought ‘finding’ a black horse out the field as challenging. Well, I am wrong. Were it not for his white socks he would be nearly impossible to spot.

A close eye is kept on the horses throughout the day. They can get in the most uncanny trouble. A friend once said, “You could put a horse in a padded stall, and he’d still find some way to hurt himself.”

Duke rolled too close to the board fence one pleasant afternoon and caught his hind legs between the bottom and middle boards of the fence. With hammer in hand we were prepared to remove the boards. As we stood by him quietly he got himself out of that mess with only a few scratches, and a small limp.

He disappears then reappears in the field as if by magic. Our two black miniature horses are the same way, but they do not cover as much ground the way Duke does. They tend to stay in much the same grazing space.

The pretty white shining star on his forehead is also a beacon of light in our daily game of hide n’ seek. Last but surly not least, is snow. He is always a dead give away in snow!

Can you find Duke?

*He is easier to spot against the skyline.*

*His white star and three white socks help me find him.*

*His bright white star helps me find him.*

He cannot hide when it snows!

The Tennessee Walking horse is a beautiful, well-tempered, smooth riding Gaited horse. He is our senior horse. I still ride him, though not far or long. I would have a whole field of this breed of horse if I could!