On Wednesday, Feb. 18, we had booked a horseback ride. A gentleman picked us up and took us to where
the horses where already saddled. I was
not in Kansas, Dorothy. The saddles were
not western, nor were they English. They
were South American, something in between, I guess. It would be an interesting ride.
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You can see by the shape of the saddle, and the high front that it's not likely to be any saddle that I've used before. It's different, but it was very, very comfortable and I settled in like I'd been made to ride using one of these. |
We were outfitted with chaplettes (they may be called
caballo western riding half chaps) and polo-style helmets. The chaplettes had a little elastic band at
the bottom that fit under your shoe and Velcro to attach them at the back or
side of your legs if you have little skinny chicken legs like mine. Both the chaplettes and helmet were quite
comfortable.
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The chaplettes fit one inside the other and the sides fold over and Velcro together. It makes a neat little package for transporting. |
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Snazzy little riding helmets and our chaplettes made us feel pretty styling. |
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We were all gussied up and ready to ride. |
We mounted up for our ride. We had all levels of experience. One lady kept trying to slow her horse down
by shushing it (which was not particularly helpful), and the kids wanted
branches to use as switches so they could gallop. Our handlers were a man and woman who wore
red chaplettes. I surely did covet those
as they were beautiful rose red. Perhaps I could
have purchased a pair to wear on the motorcycle.
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At times we were scattered all over in no particular order |
Our lady handler was our leader and while she didn’t stay
ahead of us leading, now and again she’d go up to the kids and slow them down. The man was our sweep, and he was as good as
my Royal Sweep (Fireman Mike). He
remained at the back and never let anyone get behind him.
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Our lady handler was quite stylish with her red chaplettes and blue scarf. She also had a beautiful smile. |
We galloped, we loped, we trotted, we walked; the ride was mostly
all uphill. And we passed many people,
both going up and coming down the hill.
I’d have never made that walk as it was a few miles in either direction.
The ride was exquisite.
I’d been on a horse a few years ago on a 10-day cattle drive with a
friend, and I’d had a very nice horse.
But this horse was even better.
His lope was smooth and I felt so comfortable on him. Didn’t even find out his name. But he did respond when I asked him to do
anything, even slow down although I knew he would rather run with the
kids. We would, but then walk somewhere
in between the kids who wanted to run full out and the ones behind us who
wanted to do walking.
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We were having fun ... riding horses, laughing, joking. It was a great time. |
I had gotten behind Jaz on her horse and was taking
photos. She’d been having issues with
her camera bag coming open as the zipper kept unzipping. She was in a trot and one of our handlers
noticed the bag was open. He was going
to her to help, but I saw her camera trying to make an escape. We’re not talking about a point-and-shoot $50
camera. We’re talking about a thousand-dollar
or better SLR Canon. It kept bouncing
higher and higher and closer to being out of the bag. I moved my horse forward as she would not get
stopped before the camera flew out of the bag to crash to the rocks and dirt
below. Just as it took its final leap to
freedom I grabbed it out of mid-air and saved it. I couldn’t let my friend’s camera get broken
or trampled. It was a happy moment and I
kept her camera with me until we could get the zipper issue figured out.
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You can see the open bag and the zipper just did not want to stay closed. |
And then disaster struck.
I was at a slow lope and my right stirrup broke. I hung on, pulling the reins to the left to
circle my horse and slow him down. But I
could not get balanced on the horse and lay partially across him but was sliding, sliding, sliding. In
slow motion (or so it seemed) I was sliding down his right-hand side. He was quite slow by the time I came off,
slipping, quite awkwardly I'm sure, down to land on my feet, never letting go of either the reins, Jaz’s
camera or my own pocket Canon. A successful landing it was, as I was upright and not on my butt on the ground crabbing about trying to get back on my feet.
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A successful mountain accent. |
It was another adventure.
We were nearly to the top of the mountain where we were stopping anyway and my
stirrup was fixed.
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Stirrup repair time. |
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The view of the city below was different than what we had seen previously. |
I hopped back on my horse for the ride down and was glad for the happy endings to our adventures as they could have been not-so-happy endings for both of us.
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It truly was a fun day. |
We were returned to our hotel none the worse for wear, took
a break and then went to seek out some lunch and do some more walking
around.
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