My 3rd ride, everyone should ride a horse just once!


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My 3rd outing with a horse happened many years later after I not only had my first full-time job, but also had two new best friends. These two coworkers consisted of Rod our computer programmer who was working on second shift when I started and taught me everything I needed to know about my new job. - - - A few years later our first programmer quit to go work for the butter ball turkey guy, so all Rod's classes in programming paid off for him, he went to day shift.  Then I started working with one of the nicest girls named Carol, who quickly became more like a sister to me then my own sister was or ever will be. Carol and I had many things  in common, we both liked trains, we both liked guys with beards and hairy chests, and she had ridden horses a lot in her youth on her family's farm, and I wanted to relive my few childhood memories and so it starts. Carol knew of a place we could all go riding.  I think it was called the Circle G in Danville.   Rod drove and off me went.

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Anyway, this time I made sure I was all decked out for this horse ride. I  had all the right cloths this time, I wasn't about to look like a city slicker. I even had an Indian headband made of rawhide tied around my head. This time it was Carol who was embarrassed, Rod was all  dressed up as well. Carol said she wasn't getting out of the car unless I took the headband off.

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By this time I'd be in my early twenties, and had read dozens of books on the subject of horses. (And my cowboy library spans several shelves as well.) This also brings up something else important, for some reason, animals always seem to like me, from baby on up. I was the kind of kid who could pet the wild pussy cat nobody else could get close to. When I was real little my grandparents had a little dog who hid the bones we gave her in her bed. I'd sit in her bed with her and help her eat her bones. Mom says Susie would growl and show her teeth, but I  just took her bones and ate them anyway. The reason I mention this here was because when we got to this dude ranch to ride horses, we couldn't find anybody right away as we were early, so we walked around looking at all the horses. There was this one white horse in a barn all by itself.  Rod and Carol both tried to entice it over to them, but it didn't  pay them any mind.  So, I told them to walk off a little ways and I stood at the open window with my back to the horse, and it only went a minute until this horse was sticking his nose out the window and I was petting him.

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This was my first real horse ride. After all the dudes showed up and the wranglers had all the horses saddled and ready to go, we got some very quick instructions, mounted up and off we go.  I was seated a whole 5 seconds before the horse stamped his one foot because a fly was bothering him, he also somehow rolled his back and suddenly I realized just how high off the ground I was,  and from that moment on I've commented that I believe everyone who thinks they are really in control of their lives should have to ride a horse just once, because I realized just how little control I had over my life at that very moment, I had very little - if any- control over this animal I was sitting on top of. The ride went very well  however. I was given only one word of warning and that was that I shouldn't let my horse stick it's nose up the tail end of the female horse in front of me who was in heat because she might kick my horse in the head and then I might be on the ground looking up wondering what happened.  As the horses were paired up with the riders, experienced with experienced  - beginners with beginners -  I had no trouble it that respect. In fact, my trouble was  getting my horse to walk very fast at all. I was wearing sneakers that day, and several  times during our ride (our convoy was split into two groups, those way up front moving at a pretty good pace, and the rest of us bringing up the rear ) our one young wrangler jumped off his horse a couple times and ran back to us slackers and helped us get our horses moving.  He kept telling me to kick the horse in the ribs, I didn't really want to hurt the horse - but with my sneakers on I couldn't have done much damage in the first place. After it was all over, we got back in the car to come home and we smelled like sweat, leather, and horse flesh - that wonderful cowboy smell. God, it's great to be alive!

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