The Ride

Janice Schoonover Photo

Danielle and her son Gabe, 2.  He did ride with Mom. 

My longtime friend Janice and her pretty, spotted boy. 

Incomparable and always photogenic Selkirks

Emily preferred to add a pretty skirt to her riding attire. 

Janice Schoonover Photo

Kim enjoying a brief rest

Libby and I shared a few childhood horse tales. 

Photo, courtesy of Janice Schoonover

Barb at one of our stops. 

Photo, courtesy of Janice Schoonover:  a perfect mix:  riding a pretty horse in drop-dead beautiful scenery and Kiwi's brother Roper keeping track of us.   

I rode with a 2-year-old yesterday.  His name is Gabe.

 

His big sister Emily rode her own horse.  She’s 4.

I was the oldest among our group of trail riders.  I’m 67.

We talked about when people are old enough to be scared of horses.  Obviously, Gabe and Emily are not scared.  In fact, Emily fell asleep during our ride and had to be transferred to another horse.

Talk about laid back.

I’ll be the first to tell you that when you’re 67 you’re old enough to be scared, and let me add that I would hardly use the term “laid-back” to describe my demeanor----or my horse’s.

There’s an well-defined segment in side of me that knows fear.  It’s the same segment that creates images of Marianne lying in a heap after being dumped from Lily.

Lily’s got the power and the occasional ornery nature to do bad things to me. Part of comes from her own anxiety.

Lily did a bad thing one day on a trail.  I’m not quite sure what she did, but I do know I was suddenly lying on the ground with my left arm fully implanted in a stump.  Lily’s hooves were mere inches away, firmly planted in the soil on that wet slope.

There was a crowd.  They saw what happened.  They asked if I was okay.  I asked them to give me a moment so I could make sure all the parts still worked.

They did.

I climbed back onto my tall horse, and we rode on.

Another time---in front of a crowd---Lily reared on a downhill, rock-filled trail----just like Silver did for the Lone Ranger.

 

Only difference:  we weren’t being filmed for a cowboy show, and I was mighty happy that my camera stay intact, stayed strapped to my body and simply left a dent in my back during that surreal moment.

 

I think about these two events quite often when I climb aboard Lily.  She’s got the power to do really bad things to me.

Yesterday could have been a toss-up for who was packing the most fear when we set out on a trail ride with my friend Janice, her family and a couple of wranglers from Western Pleasure Guest Ranch.

I first thought that just Janice and I were headed off to enjoy the splendor of the beautiful fall day.  Later I learned that someone else was coming.  When I saw that several someone else’s, including a 2-year-old, were coming, my fear factor gage went off the scale.

Again, that segment within conjured up even worse images of Marianne in a pile on the ground with a crowd watching, including a 2-year-old and his big 4-year-old sister riding her own horse.

To say that my fellow riders extended extreme patience in my behalf would be an understatement, especially Janice who seemed to know all along the ride what Lily and I needed to do to stay alive and safe.

We rode for 3.5 hours surrounded by stunning scenery, and during that time, Lily experienced the lesson of her life.  She learned to calm down while going down hills, she learned to step carefully through the wet rocks in stream crossings.  She also learned that the bogeymen in her life were not gonna get her.

While all this was happening, I was learning that my mare listens to me and that she trusts my word when I tell her it’s okay.

In short, I settled down and eventually derived total enjoyment from all aspects of the experience----the beautiful Border Collies and Aussies  flanking our every move or running ahead only to stop to make sure we were still coming, the pure joy of visiting with old friends, seasoned at this trail ride stuff and having the times of their lives, the delicious eye candy of Gold Creek in the fall and finally my own joy of knowing that both Lily and I had overcome fear and had become strong.

What doesn’t kill you makes you strong.

I’ve heard that one a time or two, and it’s nice to be alive and thrilled to repeat it.

I don’t know if Gabe Otis is gonna remember the day we went trail riding together, but I can sure tell you that I shall.

It was a memorable and meaningful day, and I am so thankful to have had the experience.

We did have one incident along the trail when Janice wanted us to pose together with our spotted horses.  Lily took one look at her gelding, and, as the crowd watched, once again put on a performance.

I’m not really sure what she did, but it was noisy and it was quick.

Happily, when it was over, I was still sitting on her----to ride another day.

Thank you, Janice and gang, for a treasured experience.