My very best friend from 1st grade up through 8th grade had several overwhelmingly wonderful characteristics. First, she loved horses as much as I; second, her family actually owned horses; third, she and I were the best readers in our class. She was a better athlete than I, but as we pretended that we were twin wild mares running up and down through the foothills where we lived, we agreed that we were identically fast runners, thus eliminating the potential for conflict which might disrupt our enjoyment.
My friend's family operated a seasonal horseback concession out of the national forest. Each summer they would travel up to the mountains where they would live in a cabin without electricity and rent horses by the hour or day. The first summer I was invited to spend a week there I was 9. My friend rode Blaze, a mare who was ridden in a mechanical hackamore. Every day after breakfast and after the horses were taken from the corrals and tacked up, we drug the big rakes across the corrals and loaded the manure to take it to the "sugar pile." We rode there in the back of the pickup, standing up, the wind blowing our hair.
I rode Socks, a small chestnut gelding. My friend's poodle rode Socks also! I had a wonderful time!
No comments:
Post a Comment