I don't need no stinkin' helmet

The return to the United States has been quite eventful. Shortly after arriving in Colorado, my mother, son and I got in her Mustang convertible along with the five dogs and drove to Oklahoma to spend the 4th of July weekend with my sister and her family. Even though all the dogs are small, five certainly made for cramped conditions.

My sister is "horse people" and has three. The first one she bought is a pony. His name is Gandolf and he is a happy-go-lucky pony. I, being the animal lover that I am, couldn't wait to ride one of her horses. Apparently, Gandolf is known for forcing riders to fall off. I scoff. I've ridden horses before and have never fallen. My nephew is so convinced that I will have a close encounter with the ground that he puts his money where his mouth is and bet me a dollar. To a kid, that's a pretty decent amount for a bet. Still confident in my ability to defy gravity, I accept.

Up onto Gandolf's back, with no saddle and no helmet, I go. No bridle either, just a halter. Around the field, under some trees, around a pond, over a hill, walking and trotting. And wouldn't you know, there was no falling for me. Sorry, kid. You loose.

My sister's next horse is a Morgan. That's my nieces special horse and there was no doubt that I would not be riding that horse. He's a bit high spirited. Not a problem. I wasn't in any hurry to experience a rough ride. I was perfectly content to simply pet and brush him.

The horse I really wanted to get on was horse number three, Stryder. He's big: half Arabian and half Percheron. BIG. As I prepare to climb aboard, my sister suggested I might consider a helmet. She indicated that not only had she fallen off this horse, but my niece had too. I pass. I don't need a stinkin' helmet. I have no intention of falling off. Besides, this horse is mild-mannered and not prone to quick starts. My sister informs me that they affectionate refer to Stryder as Mount Stryder because he is a mountain of a horse and falling from the lofty perch, well....let's say it's a long way down.

My sister had arranged for my niece to have a riding/jumping lesson and a second riding lesson for me. So, up onto the horse I go. This time with a saddle, an English saddle, but a saddle none-the-less. No problems. All was well while I sat on the back of the horse and watched my niece encourage her Morgan over jumps.

Then, it was my turn. The training/instructor walked into a circle pen and I followed. Unfortunately for me, the pen didn't have a gate, just a flimsy strap attached to the fence posts. Initially, I didn't recognize the hazard, nor did my sister or the trainer.

Stryder was a bit nervous having a novice rider on his back. I was a bit nervous on the back of such a large horse.

The trainer instructed me to let loose the reigns and place my hands on the horse's withers and gently squeeze with my legs to make the horse move forward. Well, he had bent his head and neck down to nibble on some grass. As he lifted his head, he came up on the other side of the flimsy strap. He did exactly what I told him to do and he went forward. That strap....well, talk about clothesline.

On my way down, I thought to myself, "And I don't even have on a helmet."

I landed HARD. After a few minutes of seeing stars and feeling the earth's rotation, I got back up on the horse. This time, we hand an understanding. Go easy and let's be friends. There were no further complications.