The Butt Bone is Connected to the Wrist Bone, So Take Your Own Fireman: More Adventures From a Neophyte Trail Rider

Having posted my Ellie, on “Dream Horse” after the June riding trip to heaven, hell and back in New Mexico, I proceeded to get the help I needed for my head and that of my horse. The posting was a call to action to get over my equine challenges and keep my horse, or give her over to a better handler. Remember, I take “the path of the chicken” when the horse going gets too tough with my seven year old tough-head of a Quarab. I’m not game for rearing and spinning on trails. With coaching from my trusty riding community (and you know who you all are), Ellie and I embarked on a three month bootcamp to sync and grow at this three year point in our partnership or to part ways.

We rode some intermediate Texas Hill Country trails – up and down canyons. We did our ground work. I expected more from her and did not put up with evasive behavior. Ellie liked all this. Infact, she was a calmer horse for the harder work. Riding off her familiar territory, to test her willingness to listen to me rather than act out fear and take the lead over me. So far, so good.

We kept building, and our three months of work culminated in a test ride at Perdenales State Park with a trusted friend, Marcia K, and her horse, Honey. This would be a day long expedition and the make or break watershed event. Ellie loaded within ten minutes, in a new trailer. She did not beat up Honey. She remained calm yet focused while being tacked-up and saddled at the state park. We walked, trotted, and did trail challenges for four hours. She even drank strange water, and when Honey signaled to her to “back off, you’re covering my Bling,” Ellie did indeed back off rather than bite her butt. Yes, Honey rides with Horse Bling and seems to enjoy showing it off. That day was the best day of riding I have had in my entire life. I basked in this delight for two days. I had actually begun to feel exhilarated after a ride rather than relieved that I had survived without injury.

Trail riding is Ellie’s joy; her “thing.” She may never be a dressage or show horse, but she can haul up and down trails, picking her way sure-footedly. With a calm and confident rider, she remains calm and confident, for the most part.

Three days after this personal triumph, we were riding our usual trails with friends. I tend to ride with a loose cinch or girth, but I learned an unexpected lesson that day: tighten your cinch or girth. Ellie jumped down a boulder and got up her momentum and speed. I was about to yell, “yee haw,” as the wind rushed through my hair and I felt as if I were flying. Then I felt her saddle slip completely sideways. I can ride centered, when the saddle is on the horse’s back. I cannot do this when the saddle is on the side of a horse. No “butt dance” will jig that saddle back on, especially with speed and angles added in to the mix.

I did what I had been trained to do: I rolled on my butt cheek! My right butt cheek to be exact. Turns out, I must have done some other stunts, as my wrist hurt. Turns out I broke it. Get this, an EMS-trained fireman was riding with us that day. Six foot four, athletic and handsome. Let me repeat that all-important fact: Six foot four, athletic and handsome. This is the second time that Rich, the burly fireman, has talked me through my really irritating habit of nearly passing out on a hard fall. I know that I have fallen, but my body has its own peculiar over-dramatic reaction. How can I pay attention to the handsome fireman when I have my head between my knees and am clenching to avoid barfing on his jeans? In Britain, we have a horse belief that seven falls turns you into a real rider. I am just two falls off that graduation level, and I hope that Rich is there when I graduate. In the meantime, find yourself a fireman to ride with, or an orthopedic surgeon. Both professions draw athletic handsome guys.