Nellie

Nellie and Chesapeake (Chessie)


I got a phone call from my good friend Charity recently telling me that she and her family have moved to San Antonio. I met Charity when I lived in MD near the Washington D.C. area while I was in the Air Force. Her daughter Nellie and I hit it off with our love of horses and spent many hours in the saddle riding the horses of another friend of mine--Mary. Chessie (above) was my favorite to ride, she was the perfect horse to help you become a better rider. A TB at 23 she had pretty much been there done that, but was in terrific shape and loved to goooo! While Nellie rode Chessie, I rode Mary's gaited Rocky Mountain Horse Chief. I loved to ride either one! They loved to race each other and we always had fun on trail rides or taking lessons from a Grand Prix jumper down the road. When I moved, Nellie's family moved to Florida for three years and Nellie got her own horse, a TB named Dancer. I got my horse Jackson. We are going to ride together for the first time in four years tomorrow! When I met Nellie she was 12. Now she is 16! She is a wonderful rider and I love her company. I can't wait to meet her horse Dancer and for her to meet Jackson! So part 2 will be coming! I can't wait to see my friends again!

Chief


Nellie at age 12 before a schooling show at her lesson barn.

Cammie

I suspect....

That there is SOMETHING IN THIS BAG FOR ME!!!!!

Why Do 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 one might have 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 on 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. My ex-husband call it ‘the sickness’. It is 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 Staircase 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 because I ride. I consider how competent they all are. Not a weenie among the bunch. We haul 40 foot rigs, we back into tight spaces without clipping a tree. We set up camp. Tend the horses. 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.

Julia Dake 2006

How I Find My Peace

Happy New Year Everyone! Just a quick reflection on this picture and what it means to me. This is the view that I have every time I drive to see my horse. This hill is much higher and I usually view this at a much greater height, but I stopped where I found a driveway so you will all have to imagine how beautiful this is. I first saw this sight on my way home on the day I first took my horse out to my friends ranch to keep him. I had had a very rough year with my horse and was pretty darn close to selling. He was way greener than I thought, I had broken my shoulder, and I was CLUELESS as to starting a horse. Also, I was running out of money to just keep a horse as a big pet at a boarding barn and this horse is talented, he needs a job! My friend Linda at work who has horses invited me to keep my horse at her ranch because she is truly a nice person and wanted to see me really give Jackson a shot.

Even though I had driven this route before I had never noticed this HUGE cross sitting on top of an enormous hill. I was driving-- lost in thought-- looked up, and the sun was shining and this majestic cross was plopped in the middle of nowhere on top of this hill. I don't disbelieve in signs, but I honestly cannot tell you of a moment in my entire life like the one where I saw this cross and knew I was doing the absolute right thing and all would be well. And it has been. I ride all the time, my horse is progressing more with every ride, and I can do things I would of only dreamed of at the beginnng of 2008. I am hoping it will only get better in 2009! The moment we truly connected as horse and rider and I KNEW I would keep Jackson happened four months later on a riding weekend on a trail IN THE PITCH BLACK DARK, but that is a post for another time! (And I promise I will write it because it is both hilarious and totally cool!) I find a great deal of happiness riding my horse, being around my horse, and having friends who share in my love of horses, but everytime I drive over the hill and see that cross I find my Peace. A great sense of calm envelops me; I am driving OUT of that blasted city, on my way to do one of the things I love the most. In my humble opinion it doesn't get much better than this! Happy New Year everyone, may you all find your Peace in the upcoming year....

Jacks and friend...