Happy trail horses Beene (left) and Thunder enjoy lunch at their Adirondack hay bunk at Hiawatha's Kettle, Ben Theyre's new horse property in Lewis County, New York.

There are certain attitudes we horse trail-riding baby boomers need to adopt in our quest to maintain our quality of life as we mature. Vanessa and I discovered several truths this year as we endured a physical summer working to create our North Country camp.

Truth #1: Our physical and mental activities need to revolve around our horses. While my knee healed, Vanessa and I planned how to develop our newly acquired wilderness land. As you might remember, we named the land Hiawatha’s Kettle. (See Life’s Lessons on the Trail, January/February ’07.) First, we wanted to accommodate our horses and have a place to trail ride. We’d bought the property to enjoy the 80-plus miles of trails in New York’s rural Otter Creek Horse Park. Planning for our living situation was always secondary.

Working from a raw piece of land, we located a feeding and watering spot, a paddock area, a round pen, and two 12-by-12-foot penned areas for stalls. Our geldings always came first. Once we had the horses conceptually comfortable, it was easy to lay out our living and guest accommodations. The Kettle is forested land, so our plan required some serious clearing. This led to the next truth.

Truth #2: Listen to your body; remember your age. Corollary A: The length of time it takes to heal is directly proportional to age. On June 15, two weeks after my knee surgery, I was feeling better, but still leaning on a cane. Vanessa and I stood on our right-of-way and looked at our land. Using a field tape measure, we figured that we wanted to selectively clear about 2½ acres of raw forest, letting large trees remain.

We wanted to have the site ready by the end of July, but my knee told me we needed to take a slower approach to our land-clearing project. We used axes, hand saws, loppers for cutting small trees, and a new chain saw. Each seemed to require a different set of muscles.

We soon felt the work’s effect on our aging bodies, testing muscles we hadn’t used in quite some time. We slept like logs and were stiff in every joint in the morning. Pain didn’t stop us. We looked forward to accomplishing our daily objectives.

Then Vanessa got injured. While overzealously lifting a log, she pulled an intercostal muscle around her back and across her ribs. The injury was a wake-up call for her. She realized that she wasn’t in the same condition as she was in 2001 when she completed nearly 1,000 miles of competitive riding. She tried to work, but needed a medical evaluation, plus medication to ease the pain. Unfortunately, it slowed our aggressive land clearing to a crawl.

One truth Ben Theyre discovered while clearing raw land: Even if you're behind on a project, take time off to rejuvenate. Here, he takes a break to walk Wuzzie, a Miniature Donkey, in the 2007 Lewis County Fair Parade in Lowville, New York.

Truth #3: Keep your eye on the prize, despite setbacks. As we both healed, we were forced to look at the clearing project more realistically. But something in us kept us focused and moving forward. It wasn’t the ibuprofen, the coffee, or even the occasional can of Utica Club beer. There was something larger driving us. It was the reality that we could begin to see our little piece of heaven taking shape.

Each morning, we’d rekindle the fire pit before we made coffee. We ate a good breakfast and discussed the day’s goals. After stretching out our stiff bodies, we gingerly set about the day’s tasks the best we could. The camp would be ready for the horses, but not as soon as we wanted. We were getting tired and even discouraged, but another truth emerged and set us free.

Truths #4: Even though you’re behind, take a day off. One morning over coffee, about a week into Vanessa’s injury, she and I looked at each other and admitted we felt old. It was time for a break. We hopped into the truck, put Alison Kraus on the CD, and explored Crogan, a quaint village several miles north. Even though the village was nearby, we’d never gone.

To stretch our stiff legs, we slowly walked up and down the sidewalks, distracting ourselves by enjoying the community’s 1800s architecture. We found a candy shop where we picked up delicious homemade chocolates and fudge. Stopping at the famous Crogan Meat Market, we bought two thick steaks we’d cook for lunch on the grill. On the way back, we stopped to talk with our friend, Karen, and to see our favorite donkey, Wuzzie.

The break rejuvenated our spirits. The next day, the return to work was fun. However, Vanessa was now more careful about lifting, and I rested my knee when it felt tired. It paid off. After several days of slower progress, we were back to good health and somewhat back on schedule.

It was a Friday, later in the week, when we finished the last task, clearing and roping off a paddock area for Thunder and Beene. We were done. It was time for celebration.

Truth #5: Mark time; celebrate accomplishments. Together, with friends, we went to early dinner at the Valley Inn, the area’s newest gourmet restaurant, and then to the Constableville Auction. It was a relaxing end to a major project. We returned to Canandaigua on Sunday, and the next weekend, we brought the horses up to the land.

Riding out of our driveway and onto the state trail system was delightful. It was the dream we’d envisioned when we acquired the property the year before. Thunder and Beene pranced down the sandy trail with two smiling riders. Now, all is as it was originally intended.

In this chapter of my life, Mr. Old Age lost. Spiritually, we discovered more about our maturing selves during the project. The truths we discovered were merely reminders that age is really just an attitude.