Growing up my elementary school was across the street from the local county library. We would take walking field trips over there and get to roam around the kids section. I remember checking out The Girl Who Loved Wild Horses so often my teacher asked me to try another book. I couldn’t help it; I loved the images on the pages, the story of a girl who felt more at home with horses than people.
By the end of elementary school I had cruised through all the horse books, Black Beauty and The Horse in the Attic to name two of my favorites, and started writing my own horse stories.
In middle school I started riding lessons. Yes! It was the barn across from the softball park, where I spent about 50% of my childhood, and I rode a beautiful gray dappled mare named Finesse. She was the horse I learned how to trot, canter, and jump on. I loved her. Eventually we moved barns and started looking for a horse to lease. We found Magic. He was a large, black quarter horse. He was trained Western style, but I wanted to ride English. In the arena he would always veer from the fence to go over the ground poles. I don't think he had ever really worked with them and he found them to be super fun. He was every girl’s dream man.
Then came the boy phase, high school softball team, recreational tennis and basketball, and I lost the time and passion for horses. My sister kept riding and so did my stepmom. Occasionally I would piggyback along in their lessons and do a little walk/trot around the arena.
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| trail ride in the Andes in Quito, Ecuador |
After college my dad moved to a neighborhood that’s a horse community. Trails weaving through the neighbors’ properties, pastures outside the houses, the works. I would try riding here and there. At the time they had a mustang mare named Braveheart. I was walking her around the arena and she spooked and starting bucking. I jumped off and slammed my butt into to ground. My stepmom was screaming at me to move so I didn’t get kicked, but for a split second I couldn’t feel my legs. Ends up I broke my tailbone. Oh well, comes with the territory!
A little later I wanted to get back into riding and my stepmom wanted a trail horse so she bought Trooper. He was a cute little dependable pony. Each Sunday my friend Lindsay would come over and ride Sim, the black mustang on my Instagram page, and I would ride Trooper on the trails. He would start to walk while I was mounting and it didn’t bother me and I didn’t have the knowledge to know how to fix it. One day as I mwas mounting he started to move, but not take a step or two, but bolt. I was half hanging off of him! One foot in the stirrup, one leg hanging over the saddle. I couldn’t jump off because he ran over to the fence pinning me between the fence and himself before my brain caught up with what was happening. Eventually Trooper steered himself away from the fence, which my back appreciated, and I was able to fall off without being trampled. At some point my calf got slammed into the saddle back or kicked or I don’t know. It immediately swelled to twice its size and turned a deep purple. I still have a scar and numb spot from it.
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| in the barn immediately following the fall |
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| about a week after the fall |
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| Trooper |
Needless to say, I gave up riding after that. You can’t blame the horse; it’s an animal who still acts on instincts. So I spent my free time on the tennis courts and yoga mats. Then four and half years later Hubs and I booked our trip to Iceland. You can’t go to Iceland without riding the Icelandic pony! It was time to get over my anxieties and get back into the saddle. Thankfully, with the support of my stepmom and a paint named Tucker, I did.
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| attempting the tölt gait in Iceland |
Last summer Tucker moved back to his farm and my dad and stepmom got another paint named Scooby. He’s 14.2 hands and has pony-tude to the max, but very loveable. Thanks to him, my trainer Melanie, and her quarter horse Pooh, my love for horses and confidence riding them has flourished.
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| cool down walk in the hay field |
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| Scooby |
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| before a trail ride |
This weekend my stepmom, half sister, Melanie, and a family friend are going to the Land Rover Kentucky Three-Day Event. I'm so excited to have some girl time gushing over some gorgeous horses! And I cannot wait to share the experience with you all!
I hope you all are able to overcome your challenges, no matter how big or small, and find the strength to achieve what you love.
A horse is worth more than riches. ~ Spanish Proverb
~Sarah
