Monday, August 3, 2009
Going On Further.......Along With Steve's Most.......
memorable. I have so many. When Jess and I were about 12yrs old, our weekends were generally filled with a short trip to Burlington where the local riding stables were, with a couple of bucks in our hands for a couple of hours out on the trails. If I recall correctly, they would give us the rankest looking poor horses ever and let us go or they would send us out into the middle of the herd to catch the ones we could use. We would leave up the long driveway, cross a small country road, go up over a hill, down the other side, cross a much busier road and get on what used to be an old railroad track with all the ties removed and since it was a straight away, open those poor horses up for a full on run and race each other until we got to the end. It then changed to a trail along a partial field that led down to the Fox River and along side of it, back through another field, in which the horses would generally try and stop and munch on the tall grasses. We finally would urge them forward and head back towards the barn. I can't remember if we crossed the road again at that point and take the smaller more country road back or if we met back up with the old railroad track or not, but I do remember , I looked so forward to those weekends and we always got scolded for bringing back sweaty horses. Probably the only exercise the things got, I don't think the place really cared that much. I do remember being pretty fearless and really feeling free. Those were awesome weekends!
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My first riding teacher used to pick up horses at the local sale for her lesson program. Sometimes she had no idea how the horse was going to be under saddle, so she had a corps of us kids who used to try the out when she got them home.
One big, fat pinto simply bucked instead of going. I guess he'd learned that was a way to get out of work. I remember riding him on one of his first trail rides. Then there was the chronic rearer and I fell in love with him once I figured out how to keep him from going up.
Some pretty wild critters came through her barn, but usually after a few months, they all came around. The pinto ended up being the State 4-H trail champion.
Of course, all this was before the word "lawsuit" was on everyone's lips. *G*
It seems to be the week for trips down memory lane. Thanks for the tour.
Interesting memories. Here, it's so different. At the club there are lessons in a sand place. You cannot go and ride outside.
Once or twice a year, there is a ballad. But the horses are not accostumed to go out and so it's difficult for they are afraid of so many things...
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