Friday, March 18, 2011

I ride

Only Women Who Own Horses Will Understand

Below from an 87yr old very active horseback riding mother 

Subject: I Ride I ride.

That seems like such a simple statement. However as many 
women who ride know it is really a complicated matter. It has to do with power
 
and empowerment. Being able to do things you might have once considered out of
 
reach or ability. I have considered this as I shovel manure, fill water
 
barrels in the cold rain, wait for the vet/farrier/electrician/hay delivery,
 
change a tire on a horse trailer by the side of the freeway, or cool a gelding
 
out before getting down to the business of drinking a cold beer after a long
 ride.

The time, the money, the effort it takes to ride calls for
 dedication. At least I call it dedication.

Both my ex husbands call it 'the sickness'.It's a sickness I've had since I was a small girl 
bouncing my model horses and dreaming of the day I would ride a real horse.

Most of the women I ride with understand the meaning 
of the sickness'. It's not a sport. It's not a hobby. It's what we do and, in
 
some ways, who we are as women and human beings.

I ride. I hook up my
 trailer and load my gelding. I haul to some trailhead somewhere, unload, 
saddle, whistle up my dog and I ride. I breathe in the air, watch the sunlight
 
filter through the trees and savor the movement of my horse. My shoulders
 
relax. A smile rides my sunscreen smeared face. I pull my ball cap down and
 
let the real world fade into the tracks my horse leaves in the dust.
Time
 slows.

Flying insects buzz loudly, looking like fairies. My gelding 
flicks his ears and moves down the trail. I can smell his sweat and it is
 
perfume to my senses. Time slows. The rhythm of the walk and the movement of
 
the leaves become my focus. My saddle creaks and the leather rein in my hand
 
softens with the warmth. I consider the simple statement; I ride. I think of
 
all I do because I ride. Climb granite slabs, wade into a freezing lake, race
 
a friend through the Manzanita all the while laughing and feeling my heart in
 my chest.

Other days just the act of mounting and dismounting can be a real
 
accomplishment. Still I ride, no matter how tired or how much my seat bones or
 
any of the numerous horse related injuries hurt. I ride. And I feel better for
 doing so.

The beauty I've seen because I ride amazes me. I've ridden out to
 
find lakes that remain for the most part, unseen. Caves, dark and cold beside
 
rivers full and rolling are the scenes I see in my dreams The Granite Stairway
 
at Echo Summit; bald eagles on the wing and bobcats on the prowl add to the
 
empowerment and joy in my heart.
I think of the people, mostly women, I've
 met. I consider how competent they all are. 
Not a weenie amongst the bunch.. 

We haul 40 ft rigs, we back into tight spaces without clipping a tree. We set
 
up camp. Tend the horses.

We cook and keep safe. We understand and love our
 companions, the horse. 
We respect each other and those we encounter on the trail. 
We know that if you are out there riding, you also shovel, fill, wait and doctor.

Your hands are a little rough and you travel without makeup or
 
hair gel. You do without to afford the 'sickness' and probably, when you were
 
a small girl, you bounced a model horse while you dreamed of riding a real
 one.

"My treasures do not chink or glitter, they gleam in the sun and neigh in the night"

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