Wild Ride

Life in the country was different when we were young, perfectly safe for young girls to roam the gravel back roads for hours riding on horseback. And we did, leaving home for hours on end, with total disregard to the heat and humidity of the day, roaming at random, with never a set destination in mind.

One particular hot summer day comes to mind…it began much the same as all others, doing our chores then we had several free hours to wander, rambling to our heart’s content. As long as we were home by the next time appointed time for chicken house duty, all was good in our world. Now, I, being not an educated horsy person, was relegated to riding double with either Vicki or Karren, her long time friend and our neighbor. This was fine for me, all I had to do was hang on and watch the road for traffic or dogs coming up behind us. Although the road we lived on was paved, the traffic was minimal during the daytime hours and we would soon find a winding gravel road to travel down. We dodged snakes and squirrels and the stray rabbit, hugging the shade along the edges of these roads, trying to keep the horses cool. It should have been a typical summertime ride, but somehow, nothing went normally for us…

The trouble started when we stopped to see a little old lady, Mrs. Early, who lived a mile or so from us down a dead-end rock road. We went often to visit with her, drinking iced tea and nibbling homemade cookies, listening to the tales she wove. I guess she was lonely, living alone as she did, and three semi-teen girls dropping by for a chat likely livened up her day. She had a tiny white house and a yard full of flowering plants, as most old folks did back then. Something else she had that day was kittens. And she was giving them away. Well, you will never guess who wanted one….Vicki, animal lover that she was. Thus began the tale of Thunder, the Wonder Horse and my wild ride.

Thunder, being a horse, had no appreciation for a mewling, spitting ball of fluff and claws on his back. And showed it in no uncertain terms - sidestepping - bucking - snorting - rolling his eyes - typical actions when a horse does not wish to fall in with his riders wishes. It was decided, after some discussion and I might add here, my reluctance, that Vicki would walk home toting the kitten, I would ride Thunder and Karren would follow me. Knowing how headstrong that horse was, I should have walked….

Here I am, astride a horse and in a saddle whose stirrups my legs were too short to reach. It went fine until we made it to the highway, the all heck broke loose. I was walking, slowly, along the side of the highway. Notice I said W-A-L-K-I-N-G! Me and the horse were getting along fine, he was calm, I was calm, the picture of perfect harmony. I could do this, I would make Daddy proud, get Vicki off my back (she liked to call me a coward) and manage to get the horse home in one piece, all at the same time.

When all of a sudden, Karren, behind me, decided I wasn’t going fast enough to suit her. So she takes her rein and hits Thunder on the hind end. And I was off! He jumped forward and took off at a gallop down the side of the highway. I held on for dear life! And was doing fine until we topped the hill and the stupid horse saw the barn in the distance. That was home, and he was going there NOW..

Thunder pulled his head down, jerking the reins (which sis never tied together) from my hands. Here I am on a big horse, a million feet from the ground, and I have no way to drive him. My feet were flopping up and down and likely scaring the horse ever worse than the smack on the butt. (what could I do, short legged as I was?) I was about to fall off, my fanny bouncing what felt like a foot off the seat every time he took a step. So I did what any self respecting girl would do in that situation - I held on for dear life to the saddle horn and screamed for Vicki to stop this fool horse.

I was leaving them in the distance, although it wasn’t exactly by choice. As we neared the driveway, I can remember thinking, ok, ok, I am nearly there. Then I looked up - and directly into a car’s windshield! There was a car coming, the stupid horse was galloping down the middle of the pavement and I had no way to turn him onto the grass at the edge of the road. The horse was getting faster, the car wasn’t slowing down, the driver was laying on his horn for me to get out of the way--I was going to die! I just knew it!

All of a sudden, Thunder bolted to the right, toward the barn and home. My toe, because as usual I was barefooted, nicked the grill on the front of that car. I had left Vicki and Karren behind somewhere and that idiot horse went directly to the gate in front of the barn lot with me on his back. He sides were lathered, he was winded and heaving for air and I was shaking and crying. Here I am on the back of a horse I now hate, afraid to try to get off because I was afraid he would try to run away.. And the saddle was kept in the garage at the house, all the way across the yard. Now I had to get it off and put up or else. After a few minutes of sitting there and getting a bit of self control back, I gingerly got him to walk to the garage. He let me ease off his back and unhook his saddle girth while he just stood there trembling. As soon as I reached to slide it off his back, he took off, straight back to the barn. I dropped the saddle where I stood and ran to open the gate, which he politely just walked into. I left him that way, still wearing the bridle, reins dangling and the saddle blanket, matted and wet, drinking water from the trough……and smiling at me!

Never again did I get on that horse alone, no matter who called me chicken. We had an understanding, Thunder and I, we both liked it better when I wasn’t on his back and trying to drive him. He was a one person horse and that person was Vicki. She raised him from a colt, broke him and babied him. Daddy kept him until after Vicki married and left home. Thunder was a great horse, Vicki could do anything with him. He drank from a water hose, smoked cigars, drank beer and counted. For her, no one else. She used to guide him everywhere with nothing but her knees and was often seen jumping astride his back, galloping bareback across the pasture and without benefit of a bridle or halter. He was hers and hers alone…and he knew it.