BACK IN THE SADDLE … LITERALLY #horse #ride by Holly Bargo

FEARLESS FRIDAY

Please read on for a most heartwarming, yet totally fearless, horsey tale by my guest, Holly Bargo.

Anyone who knows me in the least knows that horses occupy a huge part of my life. From that first, impromptu ride when I was three years old, the four-legged beasties have populated my dreams and desires. With a loan from my mother and the understanding that I would not only pay back the loan, but also would cover all horse-related expenses from then on, I bought my first horse at the tender age of 15. So was she.

That first horse taught me a lot, initially that she was in charge, not I. We began our relationship with her throwing me against a stall wall when I attempted to pick up her foot. During our first ride, she bolted. Very quickly, I learned that I had a whole lot to learn. We eventually grew to trust each other and I thought I could ride anything.

Fast forward nearly 20 years and two children later to living on my own hobby farm. That first horse had long since crossed the Rainbow Bridge and I had a 10-year old, green broke gelding returned for the second time from training. With my toddler son watching, I tacked the horse up, longed him, hopped in the saddle, and … ate dirt. Even though I wore an ASTM-approved safety helmet, I still sustained a concussion, bone-deep bruising, and nasty abrasions.

I never rode that horse again. The very idea of riding terrified me.

But I remembered when riding was fun. When I enjoyed it. When the horse and I moved in synchrony with each other, a summer breeze in our faces. I wanted that simple and profound joy and peace again.

So, I went back to the drawing board and took riding lessons. The instructor understood my fear and understood that I needed to get beyond it. She pushed me: walk, trot, and, yes, damn it, canter.

I looked for another horse, something older, something settled, something easy. I saw an advertisement for a 19-year old Morgan mare. Since reading Laura Ingalls Wilder’s books as a little girl, I’d wanted a Morgan. I scheduled an appointment, drove out to see the horse, and fell in love with a pretty face. A friend with a truck and trailer hauled the lovely Lady Anastasia to the trainer’s. I begged the trainer to ride her first and work out the quirks and kinks.

After doing so a couple of times, she said to me, “You don’t pick the easy ones, do you?”

Back to the basics again. My knees shook. My stomach churned. I forced myself to get into the saddle. We walked. Eventually we trotted. When it came time to canter weeks later, my heart pounded with terror as Stasia launched into a canter. I wrestled my all too energetic, 19-year old horse to a halt and damn near cried I was so scared.

I took lessons for a few more months. That so-called settled and easy horse wasn’t: “hell on wheels” was a better term. Ounce by hard won ounce, I regained my courage now tempered with healthy respect and the reminder of my mortality. Stasia didn’t give me anything; she made me earn every drop of confidence and skill.

The lovely Lady Anastasia turned 33 years old in February. She looks amazing for being above-ground, bright-eyed and energetic. Last fall, I broke her out of retirement for the second time. She still has energy to spare. She still isn’t one of the easy ones. But we understand each other. And, as difficult and quirky as this old mare is, I’m once again confident in the saddle.

This bodes well for the next horse.

About Holly Bargo

Holly Bargo is a pseudonym that originated as the registered name of—you guessed it—a horse. She lives on a hobby farm in southwest Ohio with her family and a menagerie of animals. Holly has published 18 books with the 19^th, Daughter of the Deepwood, due for release on March 31.

To find all of Holly's books, visit her Amazon page. Click Here