Back In the Saddle Again

(You’re welcome for the earworm)

Not long ago, I decided that horses weren’t happening to me by accident and if I wanted them to be in my life, I was actually going to have to work at it.

Granted, my last attempt (volunteering at a stable which shall-not-be-named) was horrifying enough to put me off my feed for a couple of years, but I figured it was time I try again.

I found a local stable offering horseback riding lessons at a reasonable price. The adults-only class accepted beginners and was scheduled after work hours on Thursdays. Ten classes, each an hour and a half long — and which required you groom and tack up your own horse.

That last part’s key, and one of the reasons I signed up for the class. I don’t want to drive a go-cart. I want to remember what it’s like to have a relationship with a horse.

I’ve had three classes now (it should be five, but I got sick for the first one and one was called on account of severe thunderstorm warnings) and they’re simultaneously nothing at all like I expected, and far better than I had hoped for.

The teacher and her assistants are awesome. They’re firm without being terrifying to newbie-me, and they’re being awfully nice about my not remembering how to cinch a saddle up and not being entirely sure how to cue a stop.

We’re learning how to work with a horse. Not how to “drive” a horse, but how to give proper cues and why they’re the proper cues.

My thighs hate every second of it. There are about three dozen things I need to be remembering while at an extended trot, and I don’t mind telling you that I consider it a victory to keep six of those in mind at a time. (back straight, shoulders back, heels down, post!, hands up, reins firm, don’t-fall-off-don’t-fall-off…)

Rhea (the paint mare assigned me because she’s the gentlest with kids. I take no offense at this, and am grateful for a horse who is willing to work with a rider for whom “don’t-fall-off” is still tricky) is sweet and listens reasonably well for a mare who’s been hammered on by little kids for most of the day before I get there.

She and I successfully pivoted last week, and that’s pretty exciting stuff for me, even if I am having a hard time putting my weight in my left seatbone while motioning with my left ankle and NOT leaning to the left.

I’m a work in progress. =]

I missed the smell, which may sound incredibly stupid. There’s a horsiness in there with the dirt and the leather and the poop (yes, poop).

I come home exhausted and covered in dirt and my hands smell like horse for days afterwards.

It’s kind of awesome.

Related posts:

Getting Back In the Saddle
Horse Ranch Adventures