Peace of mind

Long-time readers of this blog will remember the stories about wildfires that have come close, but never “hook up the horse trailer and get the heck out of here” close. I do have an evacuation plan ready to implement, but ever since I adopted the burros, it has contained one potentially fatal flaw - I would have to make two trips out to the highway to evacuate all four boys in my two-horse trailer.

A few months ago, I decided to stop agonizing and just get a bigger trailer. I don’t know what the market is for horse trailers in your area, but I can tell you that in New Mexico, used horse trailers in good condition are few and far between. All I wanted was a plain-Jane trailer in good condition, big enough to hold two horses and two little burros. Was that too much to ask? Apparently so.

I finally saw an ad for a trailer that might work and drove all the way to Santa Fe today to see it. The owner said the trailer was in great condition, even though it was a 1990 vintage; the tires had many miles left on them, and maybe one or two floor boards would need to be replaced. OK, so he lied. When I got there, two tires were flat, the other two were about to blow from dry rot, and the entire floor would have to be replaced. But otherwise, the trailer would work. So we dickered back and forth a little, I bought the trailer, changed one tire, headed to the nearest gas station to inflate the others, and kept my fingers crossed the whole way home.

This is what happens when you buy a trailer “as is” - you accept it, warts and all, and take possession of everything that comes in it.

Gotcha! What actually happened was I drove from Santa Fe directly to the trailer repair shop in Belen. Just as I pulled in, a trailer loaded with very noisy critters pulled up and I couldn’t resist sticking the lens between the gap in the back doors.

The trailer shop was right next to the sale barn, so I’m not sure if these guys were coming or going. And before you ask, I have no idea what the green paint is about on the butts of the sheep or goats or whatevers. (Help me out here, Twinville!) I do know that the horses up front were remarkably calm despite the three dozen noisy critters in the back...

...which gave me hope for being able to load my horses and burros in a similar set-up. This is the inside of my new trailer.


The horses will load first, and somehow I will convince George and Alan that they will be safe on their side of the divider in back.

The gooseneck area has its own little gate to keep Lyle from chewing on whatever I might stow up there. The downside of this trailer is that is has no tack room. Since I only plan to use it to haul the boys to the vet or to evacuate, that shouldn’t be a big deal.

After all, it does match my truck, and that’s the most important thing, right?

Some folks are coming out tomorrow to buy the two-horse trailer I have for sale. Unlike every other used trailer in New Mexico, it is in excellent condition.

I love this trailer and am missing it already. The gooseneck dressing room/tack room is so cozy. I have fond memories of sleeping up there during a bunch of horse-training clinics, when it would invariably rain and sound like I was sleeping with my head in a pail with someone pounding on the roof 4” above my face. Still, it was my home away from home. Even Smooch liked going camping in it. Here she is in Canon City, Colorado, the night before we sprung George and Alan from the prison.
Aren't you just lovin' those cowgirl curtains?

So if all goes as planned tomorrow (and the road isn’t too muddy and these potential buyers can actually get here), the horse trailer swapping adventure of 2008 will conclude. I will be trailerless for a week while my new used trailer is in rehab, but in the end, the family can leave together should the need arise. And the fact that I’ll have a trailer big enough for all us pretty much guarantees that the need will never arise.

One used trailer = $$$$
New floor, new tires, repacked bearings, overall tune-up = $$$
Peace of mind...priceless.