With me mounted up on Mo, and H bareback on her new mare, we were off. I quickly walked us towards the very large mulch pile that H had once told me Mo walked up and over without even hesitating.
On the way there, Mo was light, easy, and moved out with the other horses in our trail adventure. We approached the pile, and I watched as H and the other rider in our bunch crawled all over the pile. H's mare wasn't entirely sure how she felt about those mulched tree bits moving under and around her feet. I pointed Mo at the pile, squeezed both legs, and it almost felt like I was watching from the side.
He walked right up into that pile like it wasn't even moving. At a settling point, we halted, and watched the others. I chose a good steep path out of the pile, and pointed again, squeeze. Off we went, straight down the pile hill just like we entered it. I repeated this a few times, all with the same effect.
The other rider with us said to me, "Be careful you don't go this way over here, or he might jump off the concrete ledge." H laughed, "Jump? My gosh, I pointed him at things taller and higher, well over 2 feet tall. He won't jump, he'll trot over it, step up and cross it, but jump? Not a chance!" I grinned, and chose NOT to step down off the ledge.
We then started walking around the property. H described a few of the mares in the herd we were walking up to. "See that paint mare? That's the alpha mare in the herd. She likes Romeo. Can't tell you how many times she turned her butt to him teasing him. Almost every mare in the herd is in heat right now." I contemplated the quiet nature Mo had about him, a little surprised. He was gelded around age 5 or 6, and while he didn't breed any mares in that time, he certainly saw other studs breed. Rather than care much about the mares, he glanced in their general direction, I walked around the paint alpha mare with a strong mind, and while she glanced our way, she certainly wasn't in the mood to visit. We stayed right alongside the edge of their big drinking pond. Mo didn't flinch or hesitate.
Then it was alongside the highway. Yep, a four lane (at least) divided major highway, Easter weekend traffic hustling all along the way. There are two large advertising signs in the pasture, too. Those needed negotiating around... Mo? Didn't hesitate, didn't look. Cars and large trucks buzzed down the road, and he never even took a look their way.
Our ride totalled about 45 minutes or so. He was entirely peaceful, never tried to break gait, never tried to stop or take off. Didn't flip his tail, didn't pin his ears. Just walked around... I flexed him a few times at the walk, and asked for a few brief leg yields, all with pretty good success..
This is exactly why he's still in my pasture at home now. H expressed her sadness that Mo was heading home.. "If you ever want to sell, please call me." I laughed.. "If I was going to sell him off, I sure would've done it by now, especially after what he did to me." We wrapped Mo's legs, loaded him up, and were on our way back home.