I Ride ~ Author Unknown

A Simple Statement “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.

 author unknown