Cob Jockey

You know, it's weird.  I've been tossing around the idea of selling this trailer for a year.  Had it listed for a solid four or five months.  And then during my last haul with it last Saturday, I got weirdly emotional about it.

My "trailer twin" (the wife of the guy that works on my trailer) parked next to me for laughs at IDS championships last weekend.

Maybe because it belonged to JenJ.  Maybe because it was so nice of her to sell it to me for a great price at a time when I needed one and did not have a lot of spare change lying around.

Maybe because it was my first trailer, and there's nothing quite like the freedom of hitting the open road with your horse behind you anytime you want.

Maybe because I put so much into fixing it up, both sweat equity and actual equity.

Maybe it's because that trailer gave me the freedom to pull the trigger on changing barns, to feel independent of my trainer, and to start taking NK lessons.  All that's really been life changing, and none of it would have happened without this trailer.


Selling it was the right decision for me, but it was the end of an era.  As I signed over the title on Saturday and watched the new owners (a pair of local eventers who are adult amateurs, mothers and career women, go them!) drive it away, I was a little sad. 

Brrrr I get cold just thinking about what it was like pressure washing the lichens off the roof in March.

It was an amazing first trailer, and it was the trailer I always dreamed of owning.  Two horse straight load with escape doors and a dressing room.  White.  Doesn't get much better than that.  Towed like a dream.

But it was pushing the edge of what I was comfortable towing with my half ton, especially in terms of tongue weight and over hills, even though I never had issues with it.  It was starting to need more maintenance as it aged..  And it was too big for Connor, with the chest bar hitting him squarely in the neck.

(He also developed this really endearing habit of popping the warmblood height butt bar out EVERY. SINGLE. TRIP.  Grrrr.)

Call it what it is: a neck bar.

I could have made it work and fixed pretty much every issue I had with it with time and money, but the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to downsize.  Reduce the wear and tear on my 12 year old truck and have less to maintain both now and in the future.  My crazy job is not going to slow down anytime soon, and I'm all about simplifying to accommodate that right now.

New trailer owner's daughter didn't say much, but stood there giggling and beaming for 10 straight minutes feeding Connor cookies and letting him lick her arm continuously.  SO CUTE.  Face blacked out to protect the innocent.

Now it's time to get the next one!