...quiet, about a lot of things...
Sunday, June 15, 2008
I Never Said "Expert Anything"
My husband LOVES to tell trail guides at horse for hire establishments, that I am an expert rider. I always say that I am very far from that. He always says..that compared to the common man..I am indeed an expert.
He tells them this...thinking that this tid bit of information, will assure that we will get the fastest horses they have in the barn. He just doesn't get it. His need for speed over rides his logic every time.
You see what this gets me, is a pissed off wrangler.. and the rankest..or greenest horse in their string. Thanks Michael. Really appreciate that.
This time, there were quite a bunch of us going on this trail ride in Waimea. 6 in our group and around 5 other... plus 2 cowgirls..(one with a LOT of attitude...)Still, this is some of the prettiest ranch land I can think of..with Maui floating like a..well like an island, as a backdrop. We set off on a two hour tour.
I was mounted on a blood bay pony sized Spanish mustang mare. These exact words out of the wranglers mouth..."She can be a bit of a..spit fire...not at the walk..but she likes to take over at the trot and canter. Just put you foot down..and that will be that...oh and she's just had her baby weaned..so going out will be a bit...um...sticky. But you ride..so....." G R E A T.
Mona...yes that was her name, was part mustang...and all bitch. At first, I found my ego was up in arms. I was PAYING for the pleasure of trying to kick a horse to death to walk forward. This fine point of the humiliation was not lost on me. It's been a long time since I have had to "kick" a horse around.
You see, riding..is a subtle language. The more you "YAHOO", the less skill you have.
Girlfriend with the cowboy hat knew that..and was poking me with her sharp stick. At one point she asked if I rode "English?"..When I responded yes... She just trotted by and sniggered.."Thought so."
Sigh. I was in hell, though my girls were enjoying my humble decent. Glad to be of service there. My husband, who was just sulking because he figured out we were not going to run the whole time...assumed I would be really ticked off. I assumed I would be too.
But, strangely I was not. In an instant...I just decided NOT TO TRY IMPRESS this random cowboygirl. Screw her..and her judgement of me. I started to ride the horse I was on..(which by the way is awesome all around advice....)
I started to try to speak mustang. Cowgirl circled back twice to correct me. Finally I told her that I was fine...hatred in my eyes. She trotted back off..smirking, sure she would have to come back to rescue me.
I waited till she was over the crest, picked up my very long cowboy reins and smacked that little mare HARD on the neck..twice. Two little protest bucks later..we were thinking about moving our feet. First side to side...then, at last...forward. Good. I patted her neck...We,now at least, were on speaking terms.
To make a long trail ride shorter..we had a fine time. By the end, I had the little horse circling around, leaving the group...coming back...and not stepping one foot on the track everyone else was using.She did not eat on mouthful of grass. Her mouth became quiet and her head was still. I was talking and she was listening..
It was a great ride. For me...and, I think, for her. Cowgirl didn't say much as I dismounted. That was just fine by me.
See, I let go of trying to show off for her..and just started to ride...for me and the little mare. After all, it was her back that was carrying me. In the end, we were friends. It was quiet and simple. Communication at it's best.
One other thing...A sign reminded us to "pat our horse..and tip our guides" at the end of our ride.
I did pat my little horse.
He tells them this...thinking that this tid bit of information, will assure that we will get the fastest horses they have in the barn. He just doesn't get it. His need for speed over rides his logic every time.
You see what this gets me, is a pissed off wrangler.. and the rankest..or greenest horse in their string. Thanks Michael. Really appreciate that.
This time, there were quite a bunch of us going on this trail ride in Waimea. 6 in our group and around 5 other... plus 2 cowgirls..(one with a LOT of attitude...)Still, this is some of the prettiest ranch land I can think of..with Maui floating like a..well like an island, as a backdrop. We set off on a two hour tour.
I was mounted on a blood bay pony sized Spanish mustang mare. These exact words out of the wranglers mouth..."She can be a bit of a..spit fire...not at the walk..but she likes to take over at the trot and canter. Just put you foot down..and that will be that...oh and she's just had her baby weaned..so going out will be a bit...um...sticky. But you ride..so....." G R E A T.
Mona...yes that was her name, was part mustang...and all bitch. At first, I found my ego was up in arms. I was PAYING for the pleasure of trying to kick a horse to death to walk forward. This fine point of the humiliation was not lost on me. It's been a long time since I have had to "kick" a horse around.
You see, riding..is a subtle language. The more you "YAHOO", the less skill you have.
Girlfriend with the cowboy hat knew that..and was poking me with her sharp stick. At one point she asked if I rode "English?"..When I responded yes... She just trotted by and sniggered.."Thought so."
Sigh. I was in hell, though my girls were enjoying my humble decent. Glad to be of service there. My husband, who was just sulking because he figured out we were not going to run the whole time...assumed I would be really ticked off. I assumed I would be too.
But, strangely I was not. In an instant...I just decided NOT TO TRY IMPRESS this random cowboygirl. Screw her..and her judgement of me. I started to ride the horse I was on..(which by the way is awesome all around advice....)
I started to try to speak mustang. Cowgirl circled back twice to correct me. Finally I told her that I was fine...hatred in my eyes. She trotted back off..smirking, sure she would have to come back to rescue me.
I waited till she was over the crest, picked up my very long cowboy reins and smacked that little mare HARD on the neck..twice. Two little protest bucks later..we were thinking about moving our feet. First side to side...then, at last...forward. Good. I patted her neck...We,now at least, were on speaking terms.
To make a long trail ride shorter..we had a fine time. By the end, I had the little horse circling around, leaving the group...coming back...and not stepping one foot on the track everyone else was using.She did not eat on mouthful of grass. Her mouth became quiet and her head was still. I was talking and she was listening..
It was a great ride. For me...and, I think, for her. Cowgirl didn't say much as I dismounted. That was just fine by me.
See, I let go of trying to show off for her..and just started to ride...for me and the little mare. After all, it was her back that was carrying me. In the end, we were friends. It was quiet and simple. Communication at it's best.
One other thing...A sign reminded us to "pat our horse..and tip our guides" at the end of our ride.
I did pat my little horse.
4 Comments:
I love when everyone gets what they deserve at the end of the story. I think you should have kicked the guide--hard--and said, Oh sorry. I'm an English-rider and we're used to kicking ASS as well as horses.
Or you Could have smacked her HARD on the neck a couple of times. That might have made her a little more obedient.
But probably the no tip worked just as well without the physical violence. That can be soooo messy.
I think v-grrl and Joyce have said it all so well - I back every word.
I just loved to read this account of your ride - written about so well. I was there with you and the mare all the way, you horse whisperer you!
I loved hearing this story.
"I started to ride the horse I was on."
Now that's a metaphor for life,isn't it? That's all anyone can really do.
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