All posts by Kathleen

Travel with the CAA to the 2018 Royal Windsor Horse Show!

Join us for another exciting trip to Windsor! This is the 75th anniversary of the Royal Windsor Horse Show so we’re expecting another great event.

The 2018 CAA Trip to the Royal Windsor Horse Show includes:
• Six nights’ accommodations (rooms are allotted on a first-come, first-served basis)
• Full English breakfast daily
• Guided walking tour of Eton
• Afternoon tea on Tuesday
• Welcome reception and dinner on Wednesday
• Entrance tickets to the Royal Windsor Horse Show (Wednesday through Sunday)
• Covered grandstand seats and admittance to the Members’ Enclosure at the horse show
• Drinks Party hosted by George & Eileen Bowman
• After-marathon Drinks & Supper Party at the Christopher Hotel
• Farewell dinner on Sunday
•….and a few surprises yet to be confirmed!

Details of the trip are available here.

If They Could Only Talk by Randy Solle

It was a beautiful warm, sunny, spring morning in New York City. As I looked out through the large front window of the Repository, on the corner of Broadway and 47th street, the women were strolling by in their lovely spring outfits, with their beautiful hats, and the streets were filled with Hansoms, Broughams, and Commercial vehicles of all sorts. Inside, there were Breaks, Phaetons, and Gigs, all brightly shining, and the smell of fresh varnish was in the air.

A tall, slender young man by the name of Charles, walked into the shop, and as one of the sales agents showed him around the various vehicles, they were soon admiring me. Trap the agent said, “Kensington Trap”. My, that is my name, so dignified sounding, I like it.

Before long, I was hitched behind a tall dashing chestnut, by the name of Nelly. She was a fine high-stepping mare, and we were briskly moving down Broadway, to the admiration of many an onlooker, on our way to Charles’ home. What a fine looking turnout we were.

As we turned onto a side street, we went into the second drive on the right. It was a large white Victorian house, trimmed in green, with a flower garden behind, and a gravel drive that led back to the barn out back. Once we were unhitched and cleaned up, I sat at my spot, in the center isle, which allowed me to look out through the doorway, with two large round top doors. Nelly was in her stall on the right, and on the wall on the left, was her harness, all polished with the brass hardware shining. With my shafts propped up on a stand in front of me, I could look out into the flower garden, with its rose covered arch. Yes, this is MY spot in my new home, and I like it.

Time went by, and Charles, Nelly and I had many enjoyable outings. One Sunday after church, Charles had a friend ride along, her name was Elizabeth. Elizabeth was a very pretty young woman, with long brunette hair and deep dark eyes. Together we would drive out into the countryside, where I would set in the shade of a large Oak tree, and Nelly was free to graze among the wild flowers. Charles and Elizabeth would enjoy their picnic, with a checkered spread, over near the rumbling stream.

Yes, these were good times. One day I could see from the barn, that there was a large gathering of people in the flower garden, and Elizabeth was wearing a large white gown, while Charles stood beside her, under the rose archway. It was a very happy occasion, and it lasted well into the night. Yes, these were good times indeed.

Over the years, we all had many happy trips together, around the city and out into the countryside. But the roads began to get more troublesome to navigate. There was something new on the roads, some kind of smoke belching, erratic driving things. They had no horse hitched to them, but how did they move? Why, who would want to own such a contraption, they had no class. Why, I heard it said you could get one in any color, as long as it was black. Why, even horse drawn carriages could be had in just about any pleasing color combination. Just a passing fad, I am sure.

One day about a year later, while setting in my place in the barn, Nelly was busy nuzzling through her daily hay ration, when Charles and a man came into the barn. They soon took Nelly out of her stall, and after the stranger looked her over, they shook hands, and Nelly was led away. Where were they taking her I wondered? Normally the farrier and the veterinarian come to the barn to do there work. They never took her away. Maybe she’s just going to get some kind of a special treatment, and she’ll be back soon, just as happy as always. I waited and waited, but she didn’t come back. It was very quiet and still that night in the barn, there was no one around. I was all by myself for the first time in my life. Something was wrong, I could tell.

The next morning, I could hear Charles outside with something making a horrible racket. I couldn’t see from where I was in the barn, but soon Elizabeth joined him, and I could hear them laughing and almost acting childish. Soon, Charles came in, and he rolled me back into a dark corner, in the back of the barn. My shafts stuffed overhead in the rafters. Afterwards, this coughing, oil belching thing was pulled into the barn, and sat in the center of the isle. Why, he can’t do that, that was MY spot. What would he want with such a contraption? Why it didn’t even have a dignified name, they called it a “Tin Lizzy”. Can you imagine? I can’t talk to it like Nelly. Why, I can’t even see out of the doors any more. What have I done to deserve this?

The years rolled by, and I would always know what season it was, by either Miss Kitty using my cushions to have her latest litter of kittens, or the mice would settle in for a long cold winter. Why, even the moth’s needed someplace to eat and call home. At times the neighborhood children would come in and jump up and down on me. Oh, these poor old joints just couldn’t take much more of that anymore.

I used to see Charles and Elizabeth once in awhile. They also were getting older and slower. Occasionally, they would come back into the barn, and just look at me and each other, as a small smile would come to their faces, and then they would slowly turn and shuffle away. I’m afraid the years have taken their toll on all of us. I didn’t see them again after that day.

Here I am again, alone by myself. I really don’t like this feeling, but perhaps something will happen. Everyone that I had known is gone. I don’t have anyone else, where will I go now? Within a few days, there were these strange people in the barn. They were looking into everything as though they owned it, but I had never seen them before. Shouldn’t I have been told they were coming, or introduced, since I have been here the longest? They did come over, and after poking thru me, they rolled me outside onto the lawn. My, it was bright, I had not seen the sun in more years than I could imagine. They also brought a number of other items out in to the yard and set them around. Why, what is this, what are they doing? Later on, a young woman came over and put a tag on me. Why, this is not my name, my name is not “Lot”. Surely you have me mixed up with someone else. Who can I talk to and get this straightened out? Why, they acted as though they couldn’t even hear me. These young people show no respect. Why, they have even forgotten to put me back inside. I’ve never been outside at night before. I don’t like this.

The next day, it was very busy as soon as it was light out. There were large crowds of people coming, and soon there was a man with a very loud voice, who was yelling a bunch of numbers together. It all seemed like gibberish to me, but everyone else seemed to understand it. As the day went on, why people would come over and just poke and prod anything they wanted, without any respect. They would shake my poor old tired body and wheels, as though they expected money to fall out. Can you imagine, why some of them even come up and took some of my parts, without even a word. Don’t they realize who I am, do they have no respect? Why after all, I am a Trap. Why if I was younger, I’d,,,, oh, these poor old bones just don’t have the fight left in them.

I watched as the large group moved around the property, and they eventually moved on to me. Lot #593 the loud man shouted out, a “Horse Buggy”. A bit rough, but might make good yard art, he said. At once he started to yell the numbers, and within a minute, he yelled “Sold”, and everyone moved on, as though nothing had happened. Left behind, were a young man and women, with their arms wrapped together, looking at me. They come closer, and gently rubbed their hands on my poor old tired wheels and body, and said “we’ll take care of you, don’t you worry”. But who were they, and why were they saying this?

I was soon loaded onto a trailer, and going down the road faster than even a bird could fly. How is this possible, I have never seen such a thing. I don’t see anything that looks familiar. Why, there weren’t even any vehicles being pulled by a horse, going down the road. My, how things have changed since I was put into the back of the barn. Where was I going? Yard art? It must be a good thing I thought, I hoped.

The young couple put me into their barn, and then they started to look me over. This was bad, and that was bad, did we make a mistake they said. I don’t know what they were thinking, but it didn’t sound real good to me.

The next day, they came out and started to take me apart. Why, what were they doing? I’ve been together all of these years, and no one has done this. They continued until there was nothing left of me in one piece, why I’m naked, don’t they have any respect? Oh, if I could only return to my earlier times, when life was grand. Instead I set here scattered all over a cement floor, with no one around. They have completely stripped me of my dignity.

Over the next few months, my parts were gradually reworked and put back together. Why, they are even putting my original colors back onto me. Afterwards, they were putting the stripping back on my body. It looked pretty nice, why, it even tickled.

All though I was a centurion, once again I was feeling young, as I was back in my original condition. But why? What will happen to me now? There aren’t any horses to hitch to. Why did they do this?

They said it was late, and quickly rolled me into this metal can on wheels. With a load bang, it was dark. I couldn’t see anything, all that was happening, was that I was bouncing around inside of this dark can. Now what, where was I going? Was I being taken back to another barn to set? Maybe there would be horses there?

We bounced down the road for what seemed like forever, when we finally come to a stop. I could hear voices outside, but I couldn’t tell what was happening. Will I stay in here? Will I go somewhere else? Is this another one of those things with the loud man shouting numbers?

Suddenly, the back door opened, and they rolled me out. What was this place? What was going to happen? I started to look around, and suddenly I realized, that I was amongst other carriages. Why, there were Breaks, Phaetons, Gigs, and Sleighs, all shiny and new looking just like me. Why, it was just like being back in the Repository in New York city.

The young couple slowly rolled me into my place, wiped me down, adjusted my lamps, and gave me a final good luck pat. But why was I here?

It was a beautiful, warm, sunny, spring day, as I stood there amongst the other carriages, showing off my new shiny blue first place ribbon. And I like it.

The “DeWitt Clinton” Steam Locomotive of 1831

September brings carriage lovers of all types to the Lexington, Kentucky area – first with the KY Classic Combined Driving Event and then with the National Drive. Sometimes you’re ready for something just a bit different but which still contains familiar driving elements, in that case check out the Georgetown and Scott County Museum​​.

Named after DeWitt Clinton, the sixth Governor of New York, the “DeWitt Clinton” Steam Locomotive was America’s first steam powered passenger train. The passenger cars were made of stagecoach bodies; riders would sit either inside or on outdoor rumble seats. The locomotive was scrapped in 1833, however, the New York Central Railroad built a scale and operational reproduction of the DeWitt Clinton, complete with three carriages, for the 1893 Columbian Exposition in Chicago. This replica is kept on display at the Henry Ford Museum in Dearborn, Michigan.

At the Georgetown and Scott County Museum you will find a 1/10 model of the original train. Working in cast aluminum, hammered steel sheets, brass and wood, the model was made by Mr. Douglas W. Cox. It was completed over a period of 43 years. Mr. Cox built from scratch every piece of the train, including the stagecoach bodies. The three stage coach style passenger cards, along with the locomotive and tender, are on display in the lobby of the Georgetown and Scott County Museum.

Located just a few miles down the road from the Kentucky Horse Park, the museum should be added to your “to-be-seen” list.