A Spicey Ride

It was 64 days into the season of excuses, but there were no excesses to be had on this day. A rare bit of sunshine was still casting light on the Village of Port Clements as it continued its quick descent down the back of the mountains. 

We had just returned from Mexico, and the horses were back at home. Filled with the thrill of adventure from our trip, I was eager for another one. Even a short one. It has only been two weeks since our last ride, so I assumed I could take my green horse out without the proper groundwork. As if she had already seen a 1000 miles of work in her life, I approached the decision with reckless abandon. 

She wasn’t pleased about my spunky attitude, but at least we were well matched for energy. I figured we would get along great. I was hot, she was hot. This should be fun. 

I tossed on the saddle at 4:30 pm as I watched the last wisps of sunlight tint the horizon with a soft pink glow. 
I led her to the utility trailer. We have never mounted there before but I was feeling bold. Balancing on the wheel well, I asked her to step sideways close enough for me to slide on.

I stretched my leg over her back and slid into the saddle. For a moment I thought she would buck, but she didn’t, instead, she lunged forward in huge strides, hot and ready for the adventure I had. The decision not to lunge flashed through my mind as we navigated the steep driveway with gusto. I was on and she was ready. The sun was falling fast and the afternoon light was quickly fading. It was time to ride. We’ll work on having patience when the light at the end of the days returns in our favor. 

Thankfully, today was a high-energy day for me or I would have considered this a big mistake. My vitality levels were up and ready for any challenge we might face. Besides, after our last ride, I had learned to trust her. 

We met the road with enthusiasm and I allowed the trot she requested, knowing that her energy had to go somewhere and a consensual trot was preferred over non-consensual bucking. 

We trotted for a bit careful to remain on the soft shoulder of the road, but the cars hungry to get home after a long day of working in the mountains pushed past us at uncomfortable speeds. Three out of four of the cars that past were given dirty looks and a mental note to kindly chat with their drivers next time I ran into them in the store was made. 

We slowed from our trot to a brisk walk as the next car approached. She lifted her tail to relieve herself and the road. In order to maintain my in-town riding privileges, I hopped off to kick the poo. 

Punkin was still hot and in high alert when I threw my leg over her back and slid off the side of her. The car continued its approach as I placed my feet on the ground at the same time as Punkin turned to see what was happening. 

A crushing feeling in my foot shot through me as I tried to step backward. By the time I had noticed it was stuck, it was too late, and I tumbled awkwardly onto my backside with one foot trapped under the hoof of my mare. 

This was the cue the car needed, and I was grateful that they slowed to a respectful crawl. There was now one less person on Haida Gwaii who needed to be educated about the importance of slowing down while passing horses, which made my embarrassment worth the trouble. 

With my foot still stuck under Punkin’s weight, I righted myself and asked her to back up. She did this willingly, and I booted the road apples off the road before we made our way to the nearest park bench to mount. 

She was still excited and slightly impatient with how long it took me to get on. Teetering on the back of a park bench, I asked her to step towards me. She did, but then my nerves would leave me. She would notice and grow impatient, then step away. Soon the world would be slipping into darkness and the need to get home overtook my hesitancy. I sucked in my fraying nerves and slid onto her fidgeting back. She shot off. Her forward walk full of impulsion. 

I asked for a halt and she stopped, the energy of her feet coiled in waiting beneath me, like loaded springs waiting to be released. 
I asked for a walk and she gave it willingly. Setting a steady pace for home we mage it before the world drifted into darkness. It’s been 3 months since that ride and my toe still has complaints but as the light finds its way back into my days I find myself itching for the next ride.