RooReport – The Waiting Game

One of the questions I’m most often asked about bringing Loretta to the World Championships is, “What does it take to get a horse to Europe?”

Patience.

Loads and loads—and then several more bucket loads—of patience.

How You Actually Ship a Horse to Europe

The basic mechanics are that horses travel overseas aboard air-freight carriers. They are loaded into specially constructed “jet stalls” on the ground, and then the jet stalls are loaded onto a 747 or similar cargo-configured aircraft.

There are only a handful of carriers flying horses out of a few international airports in the United States.

With that in mind, it’s not exactly like buying a ticket for a trip yourself. The cargo carriers deal with specialized shipping agents because there is a raft of paperwork that goes along with the journey.

Yes, horses have passports!

They also have to undergo a handful of health screenings and certifications before they are cleared to travel.

Schedule Subject To Change

Once all those hurdles are cleared, the shipping agent schedules a flight with a freight carrier. Sometimes those flights leave right on schedule.

Not this time.

We got a call midmorning Tuesday while we were on the road to JFK in New York. The flight was being rescheduled from 1 p.m. Wednesday to 9 p.m. Wednesday.

Not a huge change, but a change.

We still had to get our gear to the airport the day before the flight and hand it over to the cargo handlers, so it didn’t alter our travel plans very much. Instead of bringing Loretta directly to The ARK at JFK, our shipping agent arranged for her to stay somewhere more comfortable, about an hour and a half north of the city.

Once we had her settled there, we took the carriage and trunks to the airport.

Driving a Dually Through New York City

Driving a crew-cab dually with a gooseneck trailer that’s just shy of 30 feet long into New York City is… an adventure. Hell, driving anything in New York City is pretty spicy.

Before anyone tells you, “Well, it’s all expressway right to JFK, so you’re not really driving in the city,” let me tell you a couple of things.

A. The expressway system approaching New York and Long Island looks like what you’d get if you threw a couple of spools of fishing line into the dryer with your regular laundry.
B. You don’t really have to drive on the city streets—as long as you don’t make a mistake.
C. See item A.
D. You can park your truck in a driveway, but you can’t drive it on a parkway. Don’t test this one. Don’t worry; I knew better.
E. Your GPS doesn’t understand D, so you mostly have to ignore what it tells you to do.

We managed to get the carriage and all our trunks into the right hands, then headed back to Brewster for the night.

Take Two, Take Three, Take Four

Wednesday morning, with the experience of our first trailer run into the city under our belts, we headed in again with Loretta on board.

Just after we crossed the Whitestone Bridge onto Long Island, we got the call that the flight had been canceled.

Back to Brewster we went.

The flight was rescheduled for midnight Saturday—or maybe technically Sunday—then Sunday evening, and now Monday morning at 1:30 a.m.

Catching Up

My involvement in the flight has also fluctuated wildly. Because the aircraft carrying Loretta isn’t configured to carry much more than cargo, there is very limited seating for humans.

We went from having a narrow possibility of getting one of those seats, to nearly certain, to 98 percent sure, to, “We have a ticket in hand for you.” Then, as schedules changed and delayed flights backed up into other flights, the possibility of me traveling with Loretta completely evaporated.

It’s a bummer because I was hoping to have that experience and to remain nearby Loretta through her travels. But it goes a bit beyond simply missing out on an adventure with RettaRoo.

Loretta will be flying directly from JFK in New York to Liège in Belgium. There are no passenger flights to Liège… at all.

That leaves me trying to play catch-up with the horse. With all the uncertainty surrounding her travel, I don’t dare leave the United States before she does. My only option is to hand her over to the professionals here in New York and catch up with Loretta in the Netherlands well after she arrives.

Such is the life of a jet-setting horse.

Making the Best of a Beautiful Delay

For all the trouble and uncertainty, I can honestly say that we’re waiting things out in a beautiful place. The farm where we are staying is a top-notch jumper barn, immaculately groomed and maintained.

Because all our equipment is locked up at JFK, we’ve had to improvise our tack situation. The farm owner borrowed a surcingle, bridle, and lunge line from a neighbor. Combined with the one lunge line we still had in the trailer, Loretta and I can at least do some long-lining and other groundwork.

Most amusing of all is the bit.

The borrowed bridle came with a two-piece snaffle with a twist—certainly not something I would ever consider putting in Loretta’s mouth under normal circumstances. She was quite insulted when I first put it on her.

Then we started doing our regular work and… she was just fine with it. In fact, she’s going pretty well.

It just goes to show that, amid all our consternation over trying to make everything just right for our horses, we can lose track of what’s really most critical. The connection.

So far this trip hasn’t gone the way we wanted, and what happens next is pretty much out of my hands. The only thing I have in my hands is borrowed tack and time.

So Loretta and I go out and do our thing together with what we’ve got, and we still have a good time. That connection was never about having the right equipment, the perfect plan, or the right location. It’s really just about the two of us riffing off one another.

Maybe I get to put Retta Roo on a plane by herself in the wee hours Monday morning.

Maybe.

If you’ve been enjoying these Roo Reports and would like to help keep this adventure moving, we’d be grateful for your support.

— Andy & Retta Roo 🐴🇺🇸