Horseback Riding

Horseback Riding 1984

Age: Ten

           

            Her name was Candi. Large chunks of caramel and vanilla made up her beautiful coat. I’m not sure what brought on the love affair, but some where along the line, I fell for her.

            At eight years old, I began riding horses. I rode once a year at a resort called Brookside. I can’t say where the overconfidence came from, but even though riding horses was only an annual event, I believed that I was an all-out, equestrian rider. Dig, Shell and I took our “horseback riding” very seriously. We passed the equipment knowledge test every year and were pleased with our ability to successfully guide our horses around the barrel course.

Saddle, saddle horn, reins, bridle, bit, stirrups and cinch strap or “latigo” were the horse basics taught to us. We chanted those words as if the shear knowledge of their existence made us experts.

            Leah, her brother Kyle, Ann, Dave, and Dig’s brother Rod were included in the horseback riding excursions. They also preferred certain horses but were not as obsessed as Dig, Shell and me…Alright, maybe just me. I did love my horse.

            Like our trip to Disney World, my mind has settled on remembering only a few riding highlights. For instance, one time Dig’s horse, Mr. Jim, decided to roll over and itch his back with Dig still riding him. Dig miraculously managed some MacGyver-like escape and jumped off unscathed.

            Another time, I decided to ditch my beautiful horse Candi for Queen, the oldest horse in the bunch. Why, you might ask? Well, that particular day we were to ride our horses into the open pasture and learn to cantor. I chose to leave my beloved Candi behind and ride the oldest horse with the assumption that she would be the slowest runner. You haven’t forgotten my reputation as a wimp, have you? For some reason, the old Queen was still quite the athlete and passed up almost every other horse in line. Luckily, I found it exhilarating and actually had a great time.

            Then there was Tonka. I don’t recall much about him except that he had a spotted, white butt and was one of the ugliest horses I had ever seen. Dig rode him quite a few times. Come to think of it, Dig rode a lot of crazy horses. Another one was Rambler, who was out of control and continually bit other horses in the butt. What was Dig’s deal? Why did he have such weird horse luck?

            Anyway, there is one event that sticks out in my mind and also scarred me a bit. I had arrived early, as usual, to save my horse. But this time it would not be Candi. Candi had given birth to a baby named Little Joe Cody. He was so lovely. Everybody just went crazy for him.

Since the birth, Candi was taking a much, deserved break so I had to weigh my other options. For the life of me, I cannot remember which horse I chose to ride. Although, it was dark brown, which makes me think “Rambler,” but why would I intentionally choose to ride such a wild horse? At any rate, I found myself in unfamiliar territory: A new horse and a new trail all in one day. What was I getting myself into?

            In order calm my nerves, I decided to become acquainted with my new horse. I took the time to pet her and talk to her about our upcoming journey. This ride would be an hour long and I wanted my horse to trust me and be cool.

            Luckily, Dig and Shell were the only two riders to see me act like a crazy horse lady. They most likely found me a bit odd sometimes but they tolerated me anyway.