Manitoulin Island in the Extreme Winter of 2019 - How the Wild Equines of Ravenseyire Cope

The Zen Elm at Ravenseyrie

"This is misery," I thought to myself, "I cannot keep this up!."

Trembling muscles, twanging ligaments, faltering mind and still I fill my shovel with snow while the winds howl whitely around me.  Taking breaks and coming at it again, eventually, the dense drifts were removed and the gate swung freely.  How many times did this scene play out this winter?  I have lost count!  Perhaps Monday's effort to free the gate is the last for the season and we surely are turning toward a significant melt?

I cannot blame Winter, my love for it remains.  What, then, accounts for the often wretched misery in my mind?

  

Bare-boned fatigue and nothing more.  

Rest and recovery will have me feeling peppy again, and healthier and stronger for the effort, I do believe.

It has been an inexpressibly challenging winter for everyone on Manitoulin Island, but especially so for all the wilderness creatures and those providing for livestock.  As noted last month in The Manitoulin Expositor:

Ian Anderson, a former Conservation Officer (CO) with the Ministry of Natural Resources (MNRF), trapper and long time resident of Manitoulin Island says the current weather conditions for deer on Manitoulin Island are the worst he has ever seen. “It’s official—these are the worst conditions I’ve seen for deer in my 46 years living on Manitoulin Island,”[...]“The conditions are really serious in some places with over 40 inches of snow on the ground,” said Mr. Anderson. He said there is no area on Manitoulin or the North Shore where there is less than 30 inches of snow on the ground (in places where deer would normally feed). “And this is really compounded by the freezing rain, and deer can’t travel on top of the icy crust and snow.”

For the equines of the Ravenseyrie Sorraia Mustang Preserve, conditions on the range have been like none we have ever experienced before.  Typically, even when snow levels are quite deep, while the horses do not venture down the bluff to the lake shore in wintertime, they do roam into all the various sectors up on the tableland.  Not only are these wild-living Sorraia horses accustomed to navigating deep snow for daily tours over the expansive landscape, but they also dig (excavate!) through the snowpack to dine upon the winter-pressed edibles below.  These horses also browse on bushes, shrubs and tree bark, gathering nutrition in fascinating ways.  

But this winter, the varied and numerous storms frequenting the island have created a situation where deep snow has been saturated by freezing rain, forming a crust often better than two inches thick, followed by more layers of deep snow. 

Kevin Droski poses with a segment of ice crust and his newly acquired helper, The Cat

For the horses, the sensation of penetrating the first layer of deep snow, then meeting with and breaking through the sharp ice crust and sinking belly-deep further into the snow underneath the ice crust is, not unsurprisingly, painful and emphatically off-putting.  They therefore have curtailed their usual sector to sector roaming of the tableland and instead keep themselves to just a scant handful of single-file, narrow packed trails that lead to sheltered spots and and feeding areas.  

There are no easy turns on one narrow path, especially when the stallions are head to tail and the one in front decides to stop.  It is a peculiar thing to see 6-9 horses lined up on a trail like a stalled train.  Eventually the leader is pressured to continue forward or the group turns and goes back from where they had come.  Extreme lumbar engagement and deep flexing of hindquarters allows the horses exquisite poise, permitting them to artfully pirouette for changes of direction without chancing falling off the firm traction of the trail and becoming engulfed in deep snow.  These Sorraia horses are masters of collection!  Nature is the best dressage teacher.  An entire book could be written on this alone!  Even so, in these restricted conditions a bachelor band comprised of seven stallions and two geldings (who have been claimed by one of the stallions as if they are mares), petty arguments and the habitual aggression among them has in some ways become more pronounced and in other ways subtly restrained.  When I am able to set aside my anxiety over the situation, it is fascinating to see how they adapt to whatever new challenge the day presents in their wilderness preserve.

One of the ploughed out feeding stations used on calm days

      

For two equines, (who due to particular circumstances we have had to keep separated from the rest of the stallions) the navigability of their spaces is even more restricted. Massive drifting has overtaken both the holding pasture and sorting corrals.  The old draft mule, Jerry, and the small, one-eyed stallion, Destemido* unfortunately cannot, as we had hoped, share the conjoined spaces of the holding pasture and corrals together, though we have tried numerous times.  Destemido's wanton aggression toward Jerry is more than what a 30 something gelded mule can tolerate.

*Destemido presently cannot be turned out on the range for reasons which are too involved to discuss in this particular blog entry    

Jerry, perhaps remembering the days when the wild stallions were young
and did not attack him, but played games instead

Destemido, taking a turn in the holding pasture as
Kevin returns from bringing hay to Jerry in the corrals

This means for the first time we have had to close the gate between the holding pasture and sorting corrals during wintertime.  For the duration of winter, week by week we are switching these sequestered boys so that neither of them has to be in the smaller space of the corrals for longer periods.

Jerry, taking a turn in the corrals

It is vital to be able to use the gate between the two sectors which has been a real problem due to the significant snowfall and the way the gale winds have repeatedly buried that gate in a dense, massive drift.  With the landscape so staggeringly snowbound, there is no getting the tractor in to scoop away the immense drift.  It falls to your author and her shovel and her determination.

The gate, reclaimed from the drift, at least on one side so far

 As noted in the opening of this blog entry, keeping the gate serviceable has turned out to be a repeated test of my endurance.  Wave after wave of snow and wind storms vexatiously undo all the work I  repeatedly do to keep it free to swing open.

Destemido in the holding pasture, which is overtaken by massive drifts

Destemido on his narrow trail.  The other stallions are out on the range side 

Added to this is the stress and anxiety of seeing how difficult these conditions are for the horses, especially for Jerry and Destemido.  Their narrow trails are so precarious and so near the tops of the fences and gates in spots!  When Jerry is in the holding pasture, there is not mischief over the gate that faces the open range.  But when Destemido is in the holding pasture and the other stallions come up to the gate from the range side, they each stand on three feet of packed drifts and attempt to do battle over the gate.  One misstep on the compacted, firm spot and either stallion risks tumbling into the gate or off into the four foot drifts. 

Destemido strikes out at Gosto

Since that photo was taken, the "platform" Destemido is standing on has grown even higher, so Kevin has strung a line from the upright posts to hopefully deter these types of nail-biting encounters.

Then there is the task (which falls to Kevin and his magnificent Kubota) to keep our driveway and shed areas free of snow.  Never in our fourteen years living here on the East Bluff has Kevin had to do so much relocating of snow to make it possible for us to get out and about.  He has made snow mountains all around the place.  This is in addition to the countless times throughout the winter he is packing toboggans full of hay and going to the forest to fell dead timbers for our firewood.  There is a Zen saying:

“Before enlightenment chop wood and carry water. After enlightenment, chop wood and carry water.” — Wu Li  

For Kevin, it is chop wood and pack hay.  Adding to that this year is "remove snow" and "drive every few days to Tehkummah to bring hay to the mares" - the later which is yet another stressful drama that winter has presented for us and the horses and too involved to elaborate upon in this today's blog entry.

Most days, Kevin maintains his Zen mindset while facing all these labours and he surely stands as a positive role model for me when my extreme fatigue gets the better of me.  In fact, I would be undone if not for Kevin's amazing strength and equipoise.

Our driveway, this past Monday morning

Drifted shut (again) and winds continuing to add more snow to it

  

Kevin assesses the task ahead

View from the trusty Kubota

Tuesday morning, no more wind and no more snow, driveway remains reclaimed!

An after the storm sunrise is most sublime!

Nice and tidy and navigable once more!

___
Edit on 16Mar19
A couple of my friends have noted that I forgot to mention that in addition to the brutal winds and copious amounts of snow, we had more than our usual share of monstrously bitter cold air temperatures due to the "polar vortex" that effected so many regions of North America this winter.  So I am adding a couple photos documenting a particularly "chilly" morning at Ravenseyrie when our thermometer dipped to -35ºF/-37ºC and only "warmed up" to -28ºF by midday.   Week after week we were showing temps that were in the minus twenties farenheit for daily "highs".  Very bitter, and dangerous with the wind chills that gales enjoyed creating.  Heating with wood during the deep freeze and high winds often makes it difficult to keep warm in the house unless one is near the trusty Jøtul wood stove.  At the kitchen table where I have my breakfast the temperature one morning was +45ºF and thick frost on the inside of the window.  We get by with extra sweaters and wool hats (and a dram of AlpenBitters #7 in the evening for sure!) and knowing that the deep freeze does not last forever.

28January19

 

Frost on the interior windows -35ºF outside +45ºF inside

With all the other shovelling at home and at work and the stints on snowshoes to help Kevin get hay out to the other horses, and useless anxiety over so many things I cannot control, somedays I am nearly done in both physically and mentally.  But I am buoyed by the stoic adaptations of the horses and bolstered by the ever-present support of a capable, congenial husband and with a little rest, I recover.

Once rested, I can look upon the character of this year's winter as if it is a supportive entity, like a shaman or a guru.  Through this philosophical lens, I am less inclined to look upon the character of this winter as a malevolent force, instead I perceive it as an essential facilitator of personal growth, designed to benefit the greater whole.

At the forest edge, bringing dried summer to hungry horses

A space further apart for Fidalgo and Altamiro

Inner reflections such as these are a luxury one rarely can indulge in when straining with chest pounding and steps faltering in the middle of a snowshoe trek to the forest with hay, often in the midst of tormenting winter storms...but even within those ordeals, the rarified beauty of the elements of the day do not go unnoticed.

Rarified beauty of an atmospheric referred to as "Sun Dogs"
on a frigid winter's day at Ravenseyrie

With the very real possibility that winters this severe will become the norm and not the exception, Kevin and I will develop new ways of maintaining the preserve and incorporate more effective measures of preparing for extreme weather.

Nutritious, delicious, homemade vegan fare at Ravenseyrie

This way of life is ours by choice, even as it often makes for austere and back-breaking conditions.  The rewards of stunning atmospherics, hungry horses feeding upon dried summer and knowing a warm house and an appealing meal with my beloved  await me at the end of day remind me that I am right where I want to be doing things that hold great meaning for me.  Let's see what the next day brings and carry on in a beautiful way!

______
I would like to extend immense gratitude to our municipal road crews who tirelessly work to keep our roads accessible, not an easy task on Manitoulin Island, especially on our East Bluff access.  Scotland Road has got to be the most challenging stretch for them, but somehow, they make it navigable and we few who live up here, sure are thankful for the great effort!

Scotland Road, the bend at McDougall Point

We Are the Cold

Snow Buntings of Ravenseyrie, living with us up on the East Bluff for the fourth consecutive winter...when the snow is gone, so are they...

Kevin and I have a special phrase that we affirm to each other as a means of summoning up the motivation, strength and courage to go on about our winter chores here at the Ravenseyrie Sorraia Mustang Preserve on Manitoulin Island.My wonderful Kevin, fetching firewood on a 10°F morning at Ravenseyrie

This morning, with the calendar showing that it is indeed March the third, but with the thermometer reading -18°F, our special phrase was expressly called for: We are the cold! Sometimes this phrase is accompanied by a double "high-5" and Sumo-wrestler-type grunts and finished with a resonating, "Hoo-waah!" Then we are psyched and ready to take our heavily layered, bulked up forms out into the purple freeze of pre-dawn and bring the herd their breakfast. (A variation of this pep rally--complete with 'burly-man' stretches--takes place when we have to push a new 800lb bale of hay upright in the shed so that it's ready for peeling off layers at feeding time.)

Ever since last Thursday's snow and wind storm, we have been getting frigid temperatures again. Each night it has dropped down to the minus teens (°F) and only rising up to plus 8 to 10°F during the day. Mostly, there hasn't been but a light breeze, though on Sunday, that breeze was strong enough to bite, so we sledded out the herd's meals to the lee-side of the north forest. The sun was warming up this particular windbreak through the entire day, making for a nice place to pass a winter's day eating, sleeping and playing. I took my camera out after the late day hay was laid out and took some photos to share. Before I share them, I'll put in an image taken yesterday afternoon as some of the herd weaved the way up the "Zen Elm" trail to the windbreak where we had fed them the prior day...this will give you a sense of distance...I snapped this photo while looking out to the north while the camera was poised on a tripod inside the house:
And these are the photos taken on Sunday from the comfort of this nicely situated windbreak:

Belina

Bella

Animado and Jerry

Left to right: Belina, Altamiro, Interessado and Ciente

Left to right: Mistral, Fada and Altamiro

Zorita

Zeus, who is taking a break from his hay to rub against a tree

I don't have photos of Dee and Doll from this session, but I'll make up for it by showing some of them in the next sequence of photos.

I'd like to take a pause from the photos for a bit though to discuss just how difficult a winter this has been for the herd. I know there are readers of this journal that are devoted to "natural horse-keeping", as are Kevin and I, so what I have to relay may interest you. We expected we would be feeding more hay this year due to having one new mare and three foals added to the herd and we ordered enough hay to compensate for these extra mouths. What we didn't plan for was to begin feeding almost three weeks earlier than usual and then having to feed especially heavy because of prolonged deep-freeze temperatures. We are putting out almost double the amount of hay than what was required last year, and feeding double rations of oats as well. Nearly everyone has lost weight this winter, but none moreso than Mistral and Ciente. Our horses and mules appear to cope very well with the harshness of winter in a semi-wild setting...but I do wonder if they would perish if like truly wild horses, they had to totally fend for themselves? I doubt there is enough forage on the 360 acres open to our herd to supply them with enough to eat during a harsh winter such as this.

Mistral is twenty-nine years old and is typically an "easy-keeper", but obviously the extreme cold has been taxing his energy reserves. He remains robust in spirit, but I want to see him robust in body again.

Ciente is our coming four year old Kiger Mustang mare. With Interessado still nursing off her and a growing foal inside of her, this sweet young mare (who is not an "easy-keeper") has never had opportunity to build up any energy reserves and so like Mistral, is looking much too thin. It's in these times when if not given special assistance the horses' immune systems may become compromised and leave them open to contracting a number of illnesses. We have been sneaking Ciente compressed alfalfa hay cubes and last week have begun providing both her and Mistral a high protein processed feed supplement. Typically I don't like sweetened, highly processed feed, (I like knowing the full ingredients of what I'm eating or what I'm feeding others) but these two horses are obviously requiring more than what we are providing at the usual meal times and we feel a "quick pick-me-up" is called for. If I had a barn, I could separate them from the rest of the herd and provide them extra meals, but that's not an option available just now. No one steals Mistral's supplement, but we do have to stand guard over Ciente in order for her to eat her ration. It's tricky all the way around, and I think some of the other herd members are becoming affronted because they aren't getting these extras. I've been rather beside myself with worry at how thin Mistral and Ciente are...Kevin reminds me that in less than eight weeks I'll be beside myself with worry because everyone will be getting too fat on the new spring grass.

Yesterday, before the late day meal was finished, Dee, Doll and Zorita left their remaining hay to the others and they went out in search of those delicate green shoots that are singing a song of spring from beneath the deep snow.
The half-Sorraia/half Sulphur Mustang mare, Sovina's Zorita digs for grass beneath the snow

Doll and Dee dig through the snow for succulent green grass shoots

Last evening, as the sun quietly slipped lower down the blue dome of the sky, the temperature sank as well, making for some exquisite colors while the herd took their leave from their dinner site and migrated off to the east sector to spend the evening digging for grass shoots and nibbling on twigs and bark. Once again, I had the camera set on the tripod and took these photos from the expansive windows of our house--with views like this, I just think I must be the luckiest gal on Manitoulin Island. Sure it's been damn cold here, and the snowstorms have been especially wicked this year...but it seems like a fair trade for all this magical beauty...at least that's the way Kevin and I feel...after all, "we are the cold!"

Zorita looking very primitive and exquisite in the late day sunglow


The herd slowly crosses over to the east
Good night ponies and mules! See you for breakfast in the morning!

Sun, After Many Days of Heavy Snow

Zorita, posing prettily in the Ravenseyrie woodland manége

How long has it been since we have had a day without snow falling here at Ravenseyrie?

It's been at least two weeks, I should say, and I've lost track of how much snow we have.

A lot...this much is obvious!

Probably, this is the way winter is supposed to be here on Manitoulin Island. This is our fourth winter here and it seems that the prior winters were slower to arrive, milder (mostly), and not as much snow as you would expect for our area.

Manitoulin Island is renown for its excellent sailing waters, romantic pristine bays and wilderness camping--things that bring tourists from all over the world. These folks come in the summer months, and typically wouldn't care for the splendor (and hardships) of our winter wonderland, favoring destinations more tropical for their winter season vacations.

But Kevin and I love winter, and so, too, do most of the year 'rounders here on the island. Having been born and raised in Michigan, I surely am no stranger to the cold harshness of wintertime, but the overall attitude on the island (and perhaps other areas of Canada likewise) is that winter is one more terrific season to enjoy.

Most of the people out and about back in Michigan were hatless, bootless, and oftentimes sporting only the lightest of jackets to ward off the cold. For them, winter was a horrifically bothersome season that one must put up with as they shuffle as quick as possible from their over-warm homes to their over-warm automobiles to get to work and to go shopping. Any other out-door activities are simply not pursued, and the over all mood is one of weary cantankerousness.

Here it is entirely different. Everyone dresses for the conditions of the season and they whistle cheerfully while they walk their dogs, run errands, putter around their snow-covered yards and keep on living their lives inside and out. Surely there may be a few that hibernate until gentler weather returns, but I continue to be delighted how this is the rarity, not the norm.

So, its been beautiful here, absolutely stunning, but never so much as today when the sun returned after so many days of greyness. The price to pay for this is some pretty cold air and high winds. The thermometer read -5°F most of the day, but now that the wind has abated a bit, I see that it reads 10°F...a veritable heat wave.

The horses and mules had the good sense not to come up for breakfast oats this morning as the high winds made the open areas around the shed ridiculously unpleasant for man or beast. Kevin and I both trekked out toboggan loads of hay to the woods before sun-up. We fed them near my new crudely constructed woodland manége. Knowing that after they've finished their hay they typically take up the fine art of dozing, I planned to return to the manége and work on looking for appropriate cedar branches with which I intend to make more attractive "walls". I hoped that while I was out there maybe one or more of the herd members might be interested in what I was doing, and I could invite them to join me.

Since our move to Ravenseyire, because we have no barn or paddock, I have had to do all my training outdoors among the entire group. This has worked well enough for initial gentling and ground work, but more and more I've realized that in order to consolidate and build upon the basics, I really needed a space where I can have some "one-on-one" time with each horse (or mule) without the usual interruptions that happen when working in a loose group of thirteen equines.

As I was coming out to the manége late morning, some of the herd came out half way, thinking probably that I was bringing them some more hay. When they found out I had nothing but my camera, they dashed off to the house and shed, where they could see Kevin busy working. Maybe he would give them some treats.

When they got there, however, the wind was especially gusty, blowing snow around them and making them turn quickly to head back up to where the rest of us were in the lee side of the cedar forest soaking up the sun.

First they ran to a nearby copse of cedar, and then they came running back to where hay had been fed this morning. Would you like to see?

While the others remained somewhat dozy, this group was all stirred up and made many circuits through the edge of the woods before realizing that I was busy in the manége. Zorita and Altamiro came by for a quick look at me, then they went back off again.

By this time, Jerry had begun to come around and I was quite certain he was going to be my first official visitor to come through the "gate" of the manége. But he stopped at the wrong pole (not yet knowing that one was a gate and the others are "walls"). As I went around to open the gate, I began to gesticulate to him that he was welcome to come in, but must come through the gate, he gave me a bored look and walked back to the rest of the group. But, Zorita came back and with only a slight hesitation, walked under the gate pole I had raised up. She walked in turned and looked at me expectantly:

I was so pleased that she had decided to be my first official visitor that I spent a bit of time taking photos of her from different angles, until she discovered my camera bag and went over to see if it had some treats in it.
I let her explore it a bit with her muzzle, but when she began to use her teeth, I had to get her attention diverted, which I did by stepping back, whistling slightly and asking her to come over to me. Which she did and then she got a good long itching session, which seemed to help her forget that I had no treats. (I'm going to have to find a way to cache some in the woods, so that when I do have a one-on-one schooling session, I have gustatory expressions of my appreciation to hand out from time to time.)


I finger groomed Zorita's mane, pulled burrs out of her tail and asked her to follow me to the left and to the right and then I called our "schooling session" over. I was getting a bit cold (taking too many photos with bare fingers!) and I knew Kevin would be looking for lunch soon.

All the time that Zorita was with me in the manége, no one else was interested in what we were up to...they stayed in the sunshine, dozing. So I hadn't needed to close the gate and when I began to put my things together to leave, I expected Zorita would walk out and join the others. But she didn't, and so I walked out and asked her to come out too. She came near the entrance, but then decided to play a bit with my Maine Harbor Bell hanging in the tree:


Rubbing my fingers together inside my mittens and wishing I could get moving so that I could get warmed up, I asked Zorita to please follow me, and I walked a bit further away from the manége in the direction of where the rest of the herd was. Zorita then followed and began nibbling at left over bits of hay. I went back to fetch my camera bag and close the gate. I had to hurry, because Zorita was already following me back to the manége. I quickly lowered the "gate" pole before she could come back in.
If I had any worries that living a semi-wild existence on a wilderness island with a group of other equines would cause Zorita to eschew human companionship, she certainly showed me today that she is happy to keep a hoof in both worlds. I think she looks good as she experiences her first Canadian winter...and I hope when Bonnie sees this blog entry she will feel the same way.

Would you like to see what some of the other herd members were doing?

Yes! That's Fada, dozing near Dee...what a furry darling!


Here is Ciente and Interessado, soaking up the December sunshine.


How can Doll possibly nap in such deep snow? And yet she is!

Mistral dozes near a cluster of grullas, Bella, Animado and Altamiro

Lots of snow, lots of frigid air...but what a simple and pleasant day was had at Ravenseyrie!