Guest Voice by Terry Goodman
Many years ago (Brian was about 10 and Kristin was 7) our family was vacationing in Colorado. The kids had decided that they really wanted to go horseback riding and I had been “nominated” to take them to a local stable for the ride.
So, after making our reservations we arrived at the stable and were asked to check-in. Checking-in required us to give our name, age, and to indicate our prior riding experience (none, some, often). Since I had ridden horses several times over the years, I checked the “some” box (take note of that since it is a turning point in this story).
After all the riders for that day had checked-in, we were told to line up so that we could be “introduced” to our horses. One of the three wranglers would call a name and another wrangler would bring out that person’s horse and help the rider mount. As the first few names were called, I noticed that their horses seemed less than enthusiastic concerning the upcoming ride. All of them were quite docile and appeared to have just been awakened, saddled, and brought to meet their riders. Even their names (Buttercup, Cinnamon, Rosebud, Daisy, etc.) suggested to me that our trail ride would be uneventful and somewhat laid-back. I decided that it might not be a good look if, at some point on the ride, the riders would need to carry their horses!
Mine was the last name called and I stepped forward to meet my horse. The head wrangler announced (in a somewhat dramatic voice) that I would be riding Thundercloud. I turned and saw that two (not one) wranglers were attempting to control Thundercloud. He appeared to be anything but docile-snorting and pawing the ground with his front hoofs. Most disturbing was his wild-eyed expression (think Jack Nicholson in The Shining!). As I took the reins from one of the wranglers, she whispered to me, “Don’t let him eat the clover.” Great! Not only was Thundercloud bigger, stronger, and more hyper than the other horses, but he also came with a “warning label!”
Not knowing what the warning meant, I settled in with Thundercloud as the last rider in the line with one wrangler at the front of our column and one behind me. We started by moving on a narrow trail with large pine trees on either side of us. After a few minutes I saw that ahead of us the trail was opening into a beautiful meadow. As soon as Thundercloud and I entered the meadow, he immediately plunged his nose into a massive mound of (you guessed it) clover! I gently tried to use the reins to bring his head up, but with his head down, he was now in his most powerful position. He attacked the clover the way I do a bowl of Blue Bell ice cream! Now, the wrangler’s earlier warning made sense.
As I continued to struggle to get his head up, the rest of the riders and the wranglers continued on the trail. The wrangler at the end of the line passed me and advised,” You can’t stay here. Keep up with the rest of us.” I felt like she was throwing me under the bus, or maybe under the horse!
Challenged by the wrangler’s pronouncement, I decided I needed more leverage in my tussle with Thundercloud. I stood up in the stirrups and pulled with all my strength. Finally, I was able to regain some control as Thundercloud reluctantly raised his head. Now, my plan was clear. Whenever we would come to a meadow, I would need to anticipate where the clover was, keep a firm grip in the reins, and prevent my horse from getting his head down to the ground.
Sure enough, each time we came to a patch of clover, I was able to keep Thundercloud from getting to it. Each time he would turn his head and give me the ultimate “stink-eye” look. I feared he might be planning his revenge.
After passing through two more meadows the trail narrowed as we navigated between the trees. Too late, I realized that Thundercloud was veering to the right to scrape me off his back. Before I could pull him back to the center of the trail, I had to take my right foot out of the stirrup and pull it up to the level of his head (I was more limber then) to avoid the trees. Even so, I did manage to get a couple of scrapes on that leg. Now I had two tasks to think about as we traveled on the trail – making sure I kept him from getting his head down to the clover and keeping him in the center of the trail.
The rest of our ride became a test of wills between Thundercloud and me. I managed to keep him from the clover and in the middle of the trail as he became more and more frustrated with me. Finally, in one last attempt to win our battle, Thundercloud turned his head as far around as he could and bit my left shoe! Since I was wearing tennis shoes, his bite hurt! He only bit me once, but he clearly wanted to let me know that I was not his favorite person.
By the time we finished our ride, I was soaked with sweat and exhausted. My arms and shoulders ached, my right leg was scratched from several encounters with pine trees, and my left foot was sore from the bite. When one of the wranglers asked me how my ride went, I replied (with a massive understatement) that Thundercloud was challenging. The wrangler smiled knowingly and informed me that I was the only customer in our group that had indicated I had some riding experience – that’s why I got Thundercloud. I filed this information away for future reference in case I ever had another episode of delusion and decided to go horseback riding!
As my children and I made our way to our car, one of them asked, “When can we do this again?” I responded with the universal parent response, “We’ll see.” My children had not learned yet that this response is code for “NEVER AGAIN!”