I Want To Ride On A White Horse

Trip Start Jan 30, 2011
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Trip End Nov 16, 2011


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Flag of Canada  , Prince Edward Island,
Wednesday, August 24, 2011

I was awake at seven-fifteen this morning, but it was a good job I'd asked for a knock-up as my iPod alarm didn’t even make me stir; a bagel and some green tea later, the latter of which I had to cool down with tap water as my time limit wouldn’t allow it do so naturally, I was on my way to the trial rides where Jenny works in the mornings. In return for a shift I could go out on a trail ride, putting me in the saddle for the first time ever. After scooping some rather large horse poop and moving it via numerous wheelbarrow loads to the mound beyond the trees it was already time for a coffee break, because nobody was signed up for the nine-thirty ride, which was apparently the first time all summer, but as we gulped the dregs a family of three arrived and booked in.  I had no time to panic about being able to go along with them, meaning my worries about the horse buckling beneath me and/or bolting couldn’t be entertained; as Jenny had said earlier 'worry is the interest paid on trouble before it is due.’

Before I knew it I was squashing a helmet on and putting one foot in the stirrup on Justice, the horse who is second to slowest and so could offer me the most confidence, apparently.  Poor Justice was also the horse I’d tried my attempt at grooming on, so if I’d failed her then she could get her own back when I was at her mercy. Fortunately she was absolutely fine and slowed to a snail’s pace whenever I pulled on her reins; she wasn’t the slowest horse though, and managed to overtake another before we pulled over to let the slow coach return to the trail ride’s previous order.  Justice forgot about her passenger and soon took me straight into some twigs and trees before making up for the scratches with the trail along the beautiful red sandy beach. 

As I leant forward when going uphill I came the closest I ever will to being a jockey, and even surprised myself when getting off Justice and finding my back wasn’t nearly as sore as I feared it would be, although I can imagine it would hurt if you went into a trot, and was extremely glad the attendant adjusted my stirrups so my knees weren’t quite so bent.  All in all my first time riding a horse wasn’t as traumatic as I feared it would be, although it’d have to be pretty eventful for a ride at two miles-per-hour to traumatise someone. 

I continued to scoop more poop into the early afternoon, but the smell failed to impose itself on my nostrils, that was until I left the stables and couldn’t fail to miss it: it was on my jeans, my t-shirt, my shoes, and even in my hair on the shoes.  It may have been a bad idea to wear the walking shoes that have to accompany for the duration of my trip, as they’re now destined to live in a plastic bag until being brought out at the last minute to contaminate any fresh air.   I had a great time around the horses, but I’m not sure six hours of work was equal to $25, the cost of the ride; someone got a good deal, but I’m not sure it was me. 
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Maggie on

A true Texan, you'll fit right in!
Proud of you.

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