Riding story from 1988

[mark <mark@madbbs.com>]

Hi ridecampers!  I recently sold my business and today my horse is at the 
trainer's getting a spring tune up, I have the whole day to myself (AMAZING!)  
I have been going through some old papers and found some stories I wrote for a 
local horse magazine back in the '80s when, in my 20's, I was riding alot of 
endurance.  I thought you might like one!


     I waded glumly through the ankle deep mud to my sorry looking mare, 
Rushcreek Noel.  Shaggy and unclipped, the gooey ground covering that sucked 
at my boots had infiltrated Noel's bay coat and tangles had taken over her 
long mane.  It had been days since I ridden.  The ever mounting pile of bills, 
caring for eight horses, juggling motherhood and two jobs had taken it's toll.
 I was irritated at the mud, the bills - at life itself.
     Perhaps sensing my self pity, Noel stood to be haltered instead of 
playing out her usual 'catch me if you can' game.  Despite that small miracle, 
my agitation increased as dust and hair flew with my vigorous grooming.
     As I brushed in quick hard strokes, I fretted over my car n the shop for 
repairs, the income tax return I hadn't laid a pen to, and my bathroom floor, 
flooded this morning from a leaking sink.
     Maybe I shouldn't ride today, I thought - there was hay to pick up, 
stalls to clean - too many things more important than preparing Noel for a 
race I ahouldn't spend the time to attend.  Well I was here, I rationalized, I 
would take a short ride and then get some work done before dark.  Making a 
mental list and consulting my watch, I carefully planned every hour of the 
rest of the day, angry at the lack of time and the enormity of my troubles.
     Kelley, my ever present Springer Spaniel, barked and ran excited circles 
around us as I led Noel out to mount.  I scowled as swung into the saddle, 
finding Kelley's high spirits annoying.
     In my gruffness, I thumped the always eager Noel with my heels and she 
took off as if shot.  Cursing myself, I settled into the saddle for a short 
ride I was sure was wasting precious time.
     Noel eased into a long reaching endurance horse trot, and despite myself, 
I began to relax my neck and back, posting effortlessly and in perfect rhythm 
with my partner.
     As Noel maintained her two beat gait up hills and down, the troubling 
thoughts that had crowded my mind, slid slowly from my consciousness.  The 
spring sun shone down on us from a sky so blue it sparkled.  Why hadn't I 
noticed that before?  When did the grass start to green and the forsythia 
burst into delicate yellow blossoms?  How long had the cheerful white snow 
drops and purple crocus been shining above last year's deteriorating foliage?  
When had the formerly brown countryside become dotted with color and texture?
     Suddenly, or so it seemed, birds twittered in branches above our heads - 
colorful bits of feather and song, building nests and anticipating eggs and 
mouths to feed.  Somewhere amid all my frustration and self pity, I had ceased 
to notice the spring bursting around me.
     Kelley jumped from a thicket in pursuit of a rabbit.  Tongue lolling and 
a big doggy grin on his face, he chased the cotton tail until both were out of 
sight.  I smiled at this sheepish grin when he finally caught back up to us - 
sans rabbit, of course.  I knew he relished the chase more than the thought of 
killing the poor creature.  He charged in and out of the bushes along the 
trail, muddy and wagging his stubby little tail with an eternal optimism.
    With no warning, Noel humped her back and kicked out in mid stride.  After 
the initial surprise, I laughed knowing that my mare was expressing what I had 
forgotten - it was spring, the sun was shining, the birds were singing, and we 
were very much alive.
     My two animal friends taught me a valuable lesson.  No matter what what 
the rest of the day or the week, or the year held, there was always the 
company of good friends.  There would always be birds to watch and rabbits to 
chase, and the flowers would always bloom in the spring sun.
     The stalls would wait, there was enough hay for a few more days, and no 
matter how irritated I got, the car would eventually be fixed, the bathroom 
floor would dry.  On this day, at this hour, there was nothing more important 
than being here on a good horse, traversing the countryside feeling more 
joyous with each step.