My butt hurts

The first time I got on a horse, it sprinted away from the pack and headed to parts unknown.

I swore I’d never, ever get on a horse again. Unfortunately, I have a short memory.

Years later, my husband suggested we go for a horseback ride through the Tetons.

I agreed, only if they put me on the gentlest horse available.

That gentle horse sprinted along the entire trail.

Yeehaw! I swore I’d never get back on a horse.

Last week, my kid wanted to take a horseback ride through the Vermont mountains.

Stupidly, I agreed. What else could go wrong, right? RIGHT?

Here I am, before the ride. Notice the uncertain smile,

the tight shoulders, the sweat pouring down my brow.

Here I am after the ride.

Notice the bloody scrapes.

My horse loved to walk against briars.

I have a feeling she was trying to knock me off.

I managed to take one good picture of the vista.

The rest of the time, I was hanging onto the saddle for dear life.

Next time I consider getting on a horse,

please remind me not to do so.

Thank you.