[RC] Anyone know who wrote this? I ride - Beccy FABISZAK
I Ride
I ride. That seems like such a simple statement.
However as many women who ride know it is really a complicated matter. It has
to do with power and empowerment. Being able to do things you might
have once considered out of reach or ability. I have considered this as I
shovel manure, fill water barrels in the cold rain, wait for the
vet/farrier/electrician/hay delivery, change a tire on a horse trailer by the
side of the freeway, or cool a gelding out before getting down to the
business of drinking a cold beer after a long ride.
The time, the
money, the effort it takes to ride calls for dedication. At least I call it
dedication. Both my ex-husbands call it 'the sickness'. It's a sickness
I've had since I was a small girl bouncing my model horses and dreaming of
the day I would ride a real horse. Most of the women I ride with understand
the meaning of 'the sickness'. It's not a sport. It's not a hobby. It's
what we do and, in some ways, who we are as women and human beings.
I
ride. I hook up my trailer and load my gelding. I haul to
some trailhead somewhere, unload, saddle, whistle up my dog and I ride.
I breathe in the air, watch the sunlight filter through the trees
and savor the movement of my horse. My shoulders relax. A smile rides
my sunscreen smeared face. I pull my ball cap down and let the real
world fade into the tracks my horse leaves in the dust.
Time slows
Flying insects buzz loudly, looking like fairies. My gelding flicks his ears
and moves down the trail. I can smell his sweat and it is perfume to my
senses. Time slows. The rhythm of the walk and the movement of
the leaves become my focus. My saddle creaks and the leather rein in my hand
softens with the warmth.
I consider the simple statement; I ride. I think
of all I do because I ride. Climb granite slabs, wade into a freezing lake,
race a friend through the manzanita all the while laughing and feeling my
heart in my chest. Other days just the act of mounting and dismounting
can be a real accomplishment. Still I ride, no matter how tired or how much
my seat bones or any of the numerous horse related injuries hurt. I
ride. And I feel better for doing so.
The beauty I've seen because I
ride amazes me. I've ridden out to find lakes that remain for the most part,
unseen. Caves, dark and cold beside rivers full and rolling are the scenes I
see in my dreams. The Granite Stairway at Echo Summit, bald eagles on the
wing and bobcats on the prowl add to the empowerment and joy in my
heart.
I think of the people, mostly women, I've met. I consider
how competent they all are. Not a weenie amongst the bunch. We haul
40ft rigs, we back into tight spaces without clipping a tree. We set up
camp. Tend the horses. We cook and keep safe. We understand and love
our companions, the horse. We respect each other and those we encounter
on the trail. We know that if you are out there riding, you also
shovel, fill, wait and doctor. Your hands are a little rough and you travel
with out makeup or hair gel. You do without to afford the 'sickness'
and probably, when you were a small girl, you bounced a model horse
while you dreamed of riding a real one. Now you’re
there….ride.
