A Horse That Knows His Job!

Intense!

Empire State of Mind

How Naive I Was

To be completely honest with you, ten years ago I had no idea what the impact of September 11, 2001 would be on our nation, our world. I was a Sophomore at Little Rock Lutheran High School; I remember running late to first period and people talking about some explosion (remember, I'm in central time) in the World Trade Center. Honestly, at the time I didn't even realize the "World Trade Center" and the "Twin Towers" were the same. We went through first period fairly normal; it wasn't really until after first period that we all really started realizing the enormity of the situation. I remember getting home from school to see my mom sitting on the bed watching the news. She had not moved since my dad had called her to tell her to turn on the news that morning. I wish I could say that I understood, that I got it; but I didn't - I actually went to my riding lesson that afternoon. It wasn't until the following days, after I heard the "whole story," that it started to dawn on me the impact of September 11, 2001. My little naive 15 year old brain took a several days to comprehend that not only did 2,000 people lose their lives but that several of those lives lost were the terrorists responsible for it all. I didn't understand the whole suicide bomber thing - my world was tiny. My world revolved around Little Rock, my family, my friends and my horse; I didn't believe that such loyal hate could exist. I especially couldn't believe that it would cross the strong threshold of the United States. Looking back, I guess you can say that September 11 was my first glimpse of mortality.

When I watch the documentaries, see the images and hear the voices I feel more fear now than I did ten years ago. I'm ten years older, ten years wiser in the ways of the world, have had ten years of experience with death... Back then I didn't understand why my mom was so pale or why her eyes were shocked as she watched the continued loop of the planes crashing and then of the towers falling. I don't even know if I truly understand it now, but I'm pretty sure my face mirrors that of hers now on the few occasions I watch the news or when one of my friends tell me he is deploying or even when I watch the playbacks of the planes and the towers. Obviously September 11 changed us all and I guess is still in the process of changing us.

Ropers and Ranchers and Cowboys Oh My!

Oh do I love the Chuck Wagon Races...

Where else can you show up in shorts, boots and a camo hat and be considered "in style"? Where else can you ride double with cowboys all night, and it not be dirty? Where else can you hoop and holler, drink beer, fall on your ass, get your truck dirtier than hell, fall on your ass again (have you met me?) and then have your pick of cowboys to flirt endlessly with? Nowhere else - that's the answer! Now I know everyone is sitting here thinking "wait?! Doesn't this girl ride english?" And of course the answer is yes! I have ridden western maybe 20 times in my entire life, and most of those times would be just sitting in the saddle, not actually riding. But this english rider most definitely has an inner chuck wagon racer that is just dying to come out. I've already decided I'm going back next year and taking a horse - not one of my english horses mind you! Now THAT would be a rodeo! But I most definitely want my own set of hooves to troll around on next year, so I may have to get creative... I will say: yes, wagon racers are crazy and I would never have the balls to do it, but after talking to people who have been doing it for 10+ years you realize that there really is strategy, training and conditioning involved. Not to mention they are some of the most accepting and fun people you will ever meet! Only thing is, if you are offended easily you may just want to stay up on the cliffs! ;-)

A Page from an 87 year old Horsewoman's Journal

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 you might have once 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 by 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. Both my ex-husbands call it 'the sickness'. It's 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 Stairway 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. I consider how competent they all are. Not a weenie amongst the bunch.. We haul 40ft rigs, we back into tight spaces without clipping a tree. We set up camp. Tend the horses. We 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.

"My treasures do not chink or glitter, They gleam in the sun and neigh in the night".

A New Leaf

So I'm going to try to turn over a new leaf as a blogger...by actually, you know, blogging. Bear with me, the first few posts back will probably just be boring stuff like updates to my life so I get back in the swing of writing. So here it goes:

The New Job: Back in February I took on a new job in Heber Springs, Arkansas at Hickory Hills Equestrian Center (website done by yours truly). I absolutely love it - I actually found someone (or rather she found me - we went to school together) to give me a real (yes, real - salary, benefits, the whole deal) job doing what I love. My job pretty much entails the following: ride/train horses, show horses, help making management decisions on the horses, foal mares out...the list can go on and on but you get the drift. The best thing about this job is it gives me the opportunity to further not only my teaching skills, but also my personal riding and training skills; something that was hard to do in Northwest Arkansas on my own. Since working at Hickory Hills I've been able to show multiple horses and ride in clinics that wouldn't have been available to me up in NWA.

The Finger: And no, this isn't meant in a vulgar way! Back in June I broke my finger...and yes, I'm sure you will all be just so surprised to hear that it did indeed involve a horse...and gravity was a major factor. Naturally I didn't go to the doctor for almost a month (don't worry, my mother chewed me out big time for that...as did the doctor actually) - anyway not only had I broken my finger, it was pretty much twisted off. Think of a pine tree after a tornado comes through. So after surgery I now have 4 screws in my finger (see the pic below) and it is stronger than ever (just not as straight!). Oh well, go figure!

The Concert: Yes, be jealous...in June I got to go to the New Kids On The Block/Backstreet Boys concert in Memphis with my cousin. And yes, it was amazing. I didn't feel like a traitor nearly as much as I thought I would - those of you who knew me during my N SYNC days would understand. 

We actually got upgraded to third row seats - my cousin and I were like screaming little teeny boppers again; not gunna lie - I'd go again in a hearbeat!

Well this is going to conclude my first update-to-my-life post. My back is killing me and it is waaay past my bedtime (us Heber folks turn in early)! Hopefully I will be able to post again tomorrow, or at the very least next year! :-)

Introducing: High Cotton

I apologize for not posting all summer, but life has been a bit crazy. Horse showing, training and lessons - I'm sure most of you understanding. This October I purchased my first horse on my own - a cute grey 16hh Thoroughbred gelding named High Cotton (aka "Dallas"). He reminds me so much of Onyx (my high school horse) that I'm going to be rather reluctant to sell him. Dallas is showing a lot of promise as a hunter, but also has experience schooling cross country. If you have a minute check out his free jumping video here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AaQiVAaFDa8. As you can see, white boy can jump! :-)