Riding My Nemesis

If I could have picked any horse, I wouldn't have picked Cosette.

My family and I are running late to join some friends for a trail ride. We have three horses, which the kids will ride, and my husband and I need to borrow a couple. Our friends have two tacked up and ready. The one I am riding is Cosette.

A few years ago, Cosette dumped me on my rear during a riding party.

"We can change horses, if you want," my husband says, who will be riding sweet Josie, by far one of my favorites.

But everyone's already waiting, and it would involve changing saddles or at least stirrup lengths. "I'll be okay," I assure him, even though I am nervous as heck.

***

She tosses her head like a rebellious teenager (she's 7 I think, under 10 at any rate) and when she passes her "house" (she's actually the horse of my friend's daughter), she sidepasses and wants to turn back.

We make it past the houses and road, the train tracks and a gate with a little bottom panel which she jumps and gets my heart racing. Out in the open field, she pulls at the bit, and I ask my friend if she gets out of control loping.

"She loves to run," she says.

I can't hold her back any longer. So, taking my friend's advice, I hold onto the reins with one hand and the saddle horn with the other.

I feel like a genuine, true-blue cowgirl, my hair streaming in the wind, my horse galloping under me, taking a jump here and there that threaten to spill me, but I hang on, stay on. I am laughing and my husband tells me I look great.

I'm tiring 'ol Cosette out, and it can only be good, right?

***

My favorite part of the trail ride is this:



A meadow of tall yellow grasses swaying in the breeze, lending luster to a pack of riders up ahead. It is like a chest full of gold treasure, where every step, you wonder if you will discover something, and yes, to the left of me at one point, there is a tire. Other than that, it is just a beautiful fall carpet. There is a secret hush as we pass through, and I hate for it to end.

***

We cannot go up the mine we were originally wanting to see. But we see coyotes along the way, tan-colored creatures that lope like playful dogs.

Cosette tosses her head still, even as I try to keep her to a walk going home,and I am saddle sore, but I am in one piece, and I am happy.

Sunset Posse

I took the kids to ride last night at Stable X's large, outdoor jumping arena. It was eight and already, the sun had set behind the mountains. But it was still light, the sky a pale blue like faded jeans. I sat on a chair while my three children rode their horses, each a different color: palomino, gray and chestnut, a color combination that never fails to make me think of the kids and their horses as some sort of a cool posse.

In the north sky, a three-quarter moon hung low. Somewhere in the distance, dogs barked excitedly, perhaps at their masters coming home. The cool September evening air chilled me, but not enough to warrant the hoodie tied around my waist.

My children loped around me, and I could feel their exhilaration as though I were the one sitting in their saddles.

The moon, stretches of green still for miles around me, the crisp fall air, and my three children on their horses enjoying themselves...

I felt a deep contentment settle in my bones.

History: Horse Audition

[This is an installment in "How we got into horses". See the right sidebar for other posts.]

I got C's name from someone, I forget now who. I looked her up in the phone book,got her husband's name, and left a message. She called me back later that evening.

"Is this Jewel?" she asked. She had a loud voice, so loud that even when I put the earpiece away from me, I could still hear her clearly. First thing she told me was that her husband didn't like horse phone calls at his place of business (which is what I called at first) so to call her on her cell number next time.

C ran "Stable X". I asked her if she did riding lessons, that I was interested for my children to take turns (at $20 a child for an hour, that was about all we could afford).

"Sure," she said. "Come this Wednesday to the riding arena just outside of town."

I mentioned to her that we were seriously thinking about buying a horse. Her voice perked up. She asked me what we were looking for and I told her: older horse, reliable, good-tempered; someone that would not hurt our children, though Sierra would be the main rider. She asked me how much experience Sierra had. When I said 4-H, she told me she had a four year old mustang that might be a good fit, even though she was young.

***

It was a frigid day; we arrived at the arena wearing gloves. A woman in a purple jacket with the stable logo was standing with some girls by a horse trailer. She looked like she was in her fifties, with a curly head of graying hair under an earmuff band, face devoid of makeup with chapped lips. She gave me a welcoming smile, and I instantly warmed to her. But just when I thought she was all warm and fuzzy, BAM! She railed into one of the other kids over something.

Her "storm" passed quickly and she led us inside the arena where Pixie, the mustang, was hitched up at. She was a gray horse, on the small side, with short legs and a rounded body. With C's very minimal help (a teaching philosophy which I think is great in hindsight, but I didn't think so then, scared as I was of the horses)Sierra tacked up Pixie. The two younger children and I climbed up onto the bleachers and I watched with pride as Sierra got Pixie to walk and trot.

Pixie was trotting towards the middle of the arena when all of a sudden, she bolted. Sierra stayed on through the sudden takeoff but looked rattled. Apparently, a big drop of melting ice from the ceiling had fallen on Pixie's back and spooked her.

"What do you think of her?" C asked me as we were untacking Pixie.

"I don't know," I admitted. "She seems sweet enough, but she's so young."

"Why don't you think about it?" she asked. "Sierra can keep taking lessons on her. That'll be great for Pixie, too. They can learn together."

I thought it sounded like a good plan. As fun as Pixie seemed to be, I didn't feel confident in saying "She's the one." Not to mention, I wanted to postpone our decision.

***

During the next few months, the kids took turns taking riding lessons. C was often not diplomatic in her criticism, and sometimes my son would cry, but the kids listened.

Next: Looking for our first horse