I've Never Ridden a Horse

For the past 26 years, the number one thing on my bucket list has been to ride a horse. There’s no real reason that it took so long to happen. I’m not scared of them, I’m not from a big city with no horses, and my family was never against it in anyway. I just never really had the opportunity, or perhaps it was divine intervention?

Me and Horse: A Selfie

For my 15^th birthday by parents gave me horseback riding lessons. My best friend at the time was taking them and I had gone out to the stables with her a few times. I was not allowed to actually ride the animals but I got to help brush them, braid their manes, etc. Then, much like my 3^rd grade gymnastics instructor, the lady who ran the stables up and moved away with no notice. I don’t know if she stole my parents’ money or just stole my pony-ridin' dreams. Either way: messed up, lady!

So in response to the awesome Bucketlist Birthday Bash I threw for her last year, Desiree arranged for me to go horseback riding for my 26^th birthday. Scheduled for the Saturday after the 18^th (my birthday… for future reference), it was beginning to look like my horseback riding dreams would be dashed again when it rained every single day in May. We cancelled and rescheduled for the next Saturday, hoping it would clear up by then. All the weather apps kept us guessing for days. It would predict sun for the day, then a few hours later, change to thunderstorms. Finally around Thursday everyone seemed to agree that Saturday would be a perfect, sunny day.

As the anticipation grew, so did the anxiety. A couple friends (a term I use hesitantly in this context) decided it would be great fun to freak me out about the upcoming event. Although I logically knew they were messing with me, their made up stats about bucking horses, horse-related deaths, and the aggression of these enormous beasts began to get to me. Then I ended up puppy-sitting last minute for my sister. The night before the ride was bound to be filled with excitement, anxiety, and much tossing and turning. This was not helped by the addition of a whining puppy.

Desiree, me and Shooter.

But the morning came and before I knew it I was standing not two feet away from an enormous horse. After expressing my concerns and lack of experience to our young guide (we think she was 22ish), she told me not to worry and that they would put me on the kid’s horse, Shooter.

Turns out Shooter was the biggest horse there, which intimidated me for a minute until I remembered that inexperienced surfers use longer boards and that the smaller horses were probably more dangerous and then I thought, why am I comparing horseback riding to surfing? They're nothing alike and I’m terrible at surfing! And while my mind was being ridiculous, I suddenly found myself standing next to this giant beast with one foot in the stirrup.

Just mounted

From there, everything was amazing.

Geeking out with excitement

Just one of the breathtaking views

Getting on the horse (with the help of a little stepping stool), getting my feet in the stirrups, directing the animal, going up and down rocky terrain… it all seemed so natural. The other two people who had signed up for the same time slot never showed so it was just me, Desiree, and our guide. Shooter was real old and liked to lag behind. He would occasionally just stop for no apparent reason but I think he was just tired. To be fair, Desiree and our guide are both tiny little girls and poor shooter had a heavier load than he was probably used to, being nicknamed the kids’ horse. But, regardless, he carried on like a champ and even trotted a few times, which wasn’t horribly comfortable. The views were amazing and there was something surprisingly fulfilling about getting to the top of a small hill, even if it was Shooter doing all the work.

The start of the ride

In the end, I walked like a cowboy for about an hour and have been fine ever since. I think my considerable time on a bike actually helped with the soreness. I loved being on a horse so much, though, that it’s probably a good thing I didn’t experience it as a youth. I probably would have turned into one of those girls who was obsessed with horses and begged my parents to get a pony and been a real brat about it. As it was, I was just a brat about less expensive things. 

Giving Shooter some sugar

I would say this was one of my better birthdays. Being closer to 30 than to 20 isn’t looking so bad from up here.