Mid February, sunny, and 68 degrees. If I still had a horse, I'd have been out on the trails for sure. So when Hubby suggested we go for a ride on his new/used ATV (I'd not been on it before), I jumped at the offer.
We headed out into what used to be MY territory. My old route. My old trails. Yes, it would have been more fun on four legs than four wheels, but...it's mid February, sunny, and 68 degrees. Beggars can't be choosers, as they say.
This is a shot looking at the rear of my house (the little log one) from the rear of what used to be our pasture.
Heading through the gate toward the old road I used to ride.
This really is an old road from colonial days. Rumor has it General George Washington once traveled it. I have no evidence, only the stories I grew up on. I remember it as the tractor road to our upper hay field. My grandfather was born in a log cabin off to the side of the road. I remember finding the stone foundation when I was a kid. Lots of memories.
All the wind we had the other night brought down a bunch of trees. The winch and Hubby's ax helped clear the path.
The view of the same trail, looking back down the hill.
The upper hay field. When I was a kid (and even as a young adult) I dreamed of someday building a house and a barn up here. That old road would have been our driveway. Not at all practical, which is why our log cabin now sits where it does. I remember racing our horses across this field. It was like flying. We cranked up the quad across it. Not the same.
At the far end, another trail leads to the next farm. We started down it, but came to this. Hubby's little ax and the winch weren't going to put a dent in this downfall.
So we turned and headed back. Hubby let me drive the ATV around the upper hay field. It was fun.
But I'd have rather been riding a horse.