Monday, November 25, 2013

Memory Monday: The Compromise

It seems that a lot of my memories are about falling off.  And that's true, because they all seem to be memorable occasions.  Good thing there aren't that many falls, so folks, there will have to be a new topic on Mondays.

But without further prolonging my inevitable agony.

Remember Alex, the cute Arabian gelding I liked to ride?  Yeah, he is once again the star of the show.

It was a run out to the far fields again.  Alex loves to lead and so leading we were.  The thing about leading is that it's not always as simple as it seems.  A fast enough pace must be maintained to keep the horses from slowing down and grazing, but slow enough that the slower horses don't wonder where the leader went and quit running.

Add in a further run and fields with some grass between point a and point b and the level of difficulty increases.

So, off we went as leaders.  Unfortunately, I lost half of the horses partway through and had to turn around and run back to the field where we left half the herd

.  Part of the run was through a heavily forested area.  There were clear paths that the horses often took with thousands of hoof print etching themselves onto the roots.  There was one fork where someone could turn left or right and essentially go around the same tree.  

Not the actual tree

I wanted to go left.  Alex wanted to go right.

We compromised.

And hit the tree dead on at a full gallop. 

I don't actually remember hitting the tree.  I remember the "Oh crap" thought about .02 seconds from impact.  I then remember hearing my walkie talkie crackle with people asking me where I was.  I am fairly certain that there was a time lapse in between.  Actually I know there was lost time. 

To my amazement, Alex was still standing next to me waiting.  I jumped on and we continued our run back out and finished the job.  Little did I realize later with the one heck of a back-and-headache what had actually happened.  Then, the following day, an astute kid pointed out there was a hoofprint on my sweatshirt, which happened to be the one I was also wearing the day before.

What is with horses stepping on me??

But my sage advice is this:

When you come to a fork in the road with a horse and there's any sort of speed involved, let the horse pick!  Compromise isn't always a winning solution.

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