It was a perfect day for a ride in the mountains. There was a charge of electricity in the air. Adventure rode on the breeze all around us. Yep, it promised to be a good day! Cousin Babs had matched us up with our steeds. My sister was atop Captain. True to his name, he was demanding and always vying for the lead. I was atop Ramona. She was a pretty sorrel. She would edge up beside Captain and he’d reward her with a bump of his rump or a swift kick.
Mounted up with our lunch packed on our saddles we started across the field. We passed the ranch crew already hard at work. We came to a downed wire. Babs stopped and pondered the situation. She led the way with Captain quick on her heels. When Ramona started over the wire Captain’s back hoof lifted the wire and tickled Ramona’s underside. She didn’t like that even a little bit and took off like a bucking bronc. Away we went – Ramona and me. The stirrups were too long for my short legs. There was no way I could brace my feet in the stirrups, so I clamped my knees into the sides of the saddle, grabbed the reins and waved my other hand in the air like a bucking bronc rider, my trusty backpacking hat flopping up and down in the breeze.
Ramona headed straight for a barbed wire fence. I pulled on the reins and yelled “whoa” along with words Babs had taught me on the cattle drive over the mountains. I learned the meaning of seeing daylight between rider and saddle – from the rider’s perspective! Ramona bucked her way closer to the fence. I caught a glimpse of cousin Babs out of the corner of my eye, sitting high in the saddle, arms propped over the saddle horn, hat in place, pasted smile on her face, roaring and jiggling with laughter. I wasn’t very amused but was in no position to discuss the matter. My immediate future flashed before my eyes. I could see myself flying over the saddle, crossing the top of the fence as Ramona hit the sharp barbs. She skidded to a stop just shy of the fence. I held on, determined to stay right-side-up. For the life of me, I don’t know how I stayed top-side.
The rest of the traveling rodeo watchers rode up and applauded the bucking bronc & rider. Well, I guess you can interpret uncontrolled laughter as applause! I pulled my knees out of the sides of the saddle leaving an impression behind and slid out of the saddle. I stroked Ramona’s lathered neck and sides and talked softly trying to calm both of us. I kicked the sod back in place over the skid marks and remounted.
We headed up the trail. It was a nice ride through the mountains. The horses were skittish and suspicious of every little noise and movement for the rest of the ride. We stopped for a picnic lunch and enjoyed the beautiful scenery and crisp mountain air.
We made our way over the ridge down the trail where we would cross the Boulder River. Babs went first to test the water and find the best path for horses’ hooves on the slippery river rocks. The rest of us followed. We got sufficiently wet, but all stayed atop our trusty steeds and made it across the river with no more incidents.
The dog refused to cross the cold river. Babs had no choice but to cross the river again and take the dog in tow. About that time, Captain decided to complete his bath by getting dried off. He shook and my sister shook with him. Before we could even blink, Captain went down. We all hollered for his rider to jump off. She just barely got her leg free and out of the saddle before Captain rolled over on his back, rolling in the dirt. When he got up he shook all over before being remounted. Babs wasn’t laughing quite as hard by this time because she was using her cattle drive language on the dog.
We started out again. Half way across the pasture, we were greeted by neighs and snorts. The horses seemed ready for a fight. We made it through and headed back toward the ranch. By this time, the sun was just barely peeking over the horizon. We came to a little bridge and the horses jumped and bumped and rumped together all the way across. By the time we turned into the yard, we were all ready to end the day’s adventures.
Note: No animals were hurt during the course of this story which took place in 1975. However, the bronc rider suffered bruises to the inside of her knees and had various other sore spots. Yep, it had been a good day.
