Carilyn Simmons knows a thing or two about moving on -- getting beyond the very worst that Mother Nature can throw at her.

First there was the fire in October 2003. Then this winter, a flood threatened the 93-acre ranch she operates in the green valleys of western Moorpark.

Through it all, Simmons has stood resilient, refusing to leave the land, the animals and her livelihood during a crisis, and now, refusing to let it get her down.

"You can't let yourself get discouraged," she said.

Simmons is determined to continue her work at Spirit Dancer Ranch, which welcomes about 30 people on an average week to participate in therapeutic riding sessions. The sessions were halted temporarily for more than a month because of the storms. They started up again recently.

The ranch has plenty of scars from the recent rains, which for the record, were worse than the fires, Simmons said.

Horses stand in still-muddied stalls, some not far from the bank of the swollen flood-control channel. The sound of rushing water has been silenced in what is now a river of sand, 40 feet wide and 4 feet deep in most places.

The water once moved so furiously it confined Simmons to her house, where she was unable to cross the torrent that cut through her land, the water measuring 30 feet wide at its narrowest during the height of the storms.

Now there is some sign of relief amid the storm damage. Sand has seeped into the deepest crevices of the long, dirt road on Simmons' Spirit Dancer Ranch -- it's the only way in or out -- so visitors, trash trucks and deliveries can get through now, at least until the next big rain comes.

"That road is the key to getting people down here," she said.

Gate panels stand ready to replace the horse corrals washed away in the storm, and Simmons is mulling how best to fix the small arena she uses to work with novice riders.

During the short hiatus from lessons, Jacques Fouchaux, who works with children who have cerebral palsy, autism and other disabilities, said he wasn't worried about the future of the programs.

He knew they would continue, but was concerned about what effect the time away from riding would have on the children, some of whom are able to communicate their disappointment at being away from the ranch.

"I have kids, if they don't ride, they regress," Fouchaux said.

He said one boy who has mild retardation and autism returned listless as sessions started up recently. It was a change Simmons picked up on as well.

"Before, he'd get on that horse ... and he'd go ripping around that ring, just galloping and hollering and having the best old time," she said.

Regardless of the rains or fires or whatever nature throws her way, it's the children who help make Simmons realize this is where she belongs.

"Those of us that believe that this is a good place to be," she said, "we just think that we're going to be all right."