Men will do funny things for the ladies they are courting,
impressing or just plain trying to impress them with manly skills. Being a city
slicker is definitely a strike against a woman’s suggestion to go horseback
riding when she fails to tell you she is an experienced rider and a good one at
that. A setup like this could make the bloopers but as funny as it sounded, it
was not much fun for me.
A
novice rider would be bragging. I was neither a novice nor a person who would
say he ever rode a horse before even in front of a woman. It just isn’t wise to
brag about such a feat when the fact remains you are about to mount on a horse
you have never met before and have no clue how to begin to ride one. Paying
attention was the key to success here.
From the very first moment I set my eyes on the stable full
of horses, I knew it was going to be a bad day and a nightmare for me just
because I was concerned about my safety more than the others with me. I was
being selfish but I had no intentions of being hurt by a four-legged animal
that weighed a lot more than me and stronger and more powerful than I could
ever imagine.
My respect was immense and my apprehension was not even
close to being good enough to try to ride one. I had heard of horror stories of
people falling off horses and breaking their necks and I didn’t want to add my
name on that list. I knew it was going to be my first trail ride and I was
about to be taught a lesson by learning how to ride a horse.
Telling me before hand to dress a certain way and to wear
the kind of clothes or attire that makes you comfortable was my first clue I
should be prepared for something different. I didn’t own a pair of cowboy boots
but I did have sneakers that were solid. However I chose to wear work boots
just in case.
Jeans were everyday wear so that was simple. I couldn’t
imagine wearing shorts on a horse saddle and for the girls I was hoping nobody
wore sandals or open toed shoes. The reason I wore my work boots was because
they are steel toed and although hot in the summer, they would protect my feet
if the hoof of the animal met my toes for any reason transferring hundreds of
pounds of pressure to my vulnerable and unprotected feet
The stable offered us riding helmets but I didn’t wear a helmet
when I rode a motorcycle and I didn’t see a reason for wearing it riding a
horse. I respectfully declined while others donned their and tightened the
straps. I had no intention of falling off the horse at any time and I was
certain that could be avoided.
The stable owner took about five minutes to explain o us the
basics. What he was really saying was that riding is more about balance than it
is power over the horse. Using the legs was more important than the hands and
sitting squarely in the saddle while trying to relax was the key to staying in
balance. Even relaxing was addressed at the stable owner emphasized not to
slouch or lean one way or the other. I said I got it and waited for all to
mount as we headed down the trail.
The girls were laughing and having fun while I was a little
tense and more concerned about my horse’s disposition as it looked like a mean
one to me. I tried to talk to it with a soft voice but I don’t think it made a
difference. About a half hour into the ride the girls were up to something as I
could sense they were plotting something evil. I think I disappointed them by
staying in the saddle.
I was doing fine. I had the reins nicely even and taunt but
not too tight as I had been shown. I was balanced, breathing and moving with
the horse in rhythm. I had been shown how to stop turn or approach the horse. I
was confident I had followed the instruction the right way and my confidence
was rising as I was thinking this could be fun. For sure I was not about to be
kicked just because I wasn’t paying attention how to act around a horse.
All of a sudden one of them came up behind and tapped the
horse I was riding on the hind end and spooked my horse. The gallop turned into
a fast gait and I was hanging onto dear life the way this horse was throwing me
around in the saddle. I kept trying to balance myself
so I wouldn’t slide
forward or fall back but it was touch and go as far as my technique used.
The second rule other than staying in the saddle was to look
where you are going. A spooked horse is a flying missile with the intention of
running away until it was calmed down again. I could sense I was in a lot of
trouble but my worries were quickly forgotten when the horse ran under a tree
and the thick heavy tree branch knocked me out of the saddle onto the ground.
A helmet would have been useful in this situation as my head
hitting the branch gave me a slight cut over my left eye even when I ducked. Blood drawn I tumbled to the ground hitting me
square on the buttocks giving everybody a good look at my awkwardness and pain
inflicted body.
I never got back in the saddle. Once the horse stopped down
the trail a bit I took it by the reins and walked it back to the stable. I
guess I was lucky my feet didn’t get stuck in the stirrups as I have seen in
the movies. Luck was with me after all was said. One this I knew for certain
that day on that hot summer day in Ohio. This would be my first and last ride
on a horse.
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