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Horses

I went on a horse trail last weekend. As a wee lad, I was obsessed with horses and was a veritable horse girl, despite zero experience riding or owning a horse. I would leap at the chance to ride a horse at fairs where they lead you in a sad circle, thinking this must be equivalent to the real thing. Last weekend I found out it very much is not.

Horses are very big. This didn't really sink in until I was sitting on the sweet brown horse named Muster, whereupon I realised how far away the ground was. The trail began with a walk up a hill which wasn't too terrible. Then, at the top of the hill, the guide told us that if we wanted to, we could canter along a short stretch, about 100 metres long. Foolishly, I decided this was a once in a lifetime opportunity, so I may as well, right?

There are very few times in my life where the thought 'I'm going to die' crosses my mind. When Muster broke into a canter, that was all I was able to think. Jesus Christ. I was bouncing fully out of the saddle, desperately trying to pull back on the reins, unable to speak from fear. Eventually, near the end of the stretch, I bounced right off the saddle. I hit the ground on the right side, scraping my elbow raw. Luckily nothing broke and I didn't hit my head, but seriously, holy fuck. I had no choice but to get back on the horse, and try to ignore the stinging in my arm. I left with the early leavers and hobbled back to my car. It's been about 4 days now, and only now am I able to walk properly without feeling every muscle in my body tense. I'm never riding a horse again.

I've found in recent years that this is my biggest strength, and my biggest flaw: I'm willing to do pretty much anything once. Eat crickets? Why not, you only live once. Go surfing? What the hell, if I have the chance I'll take it. This usually ends well, but clearly also leads to me being banged up and miserable at times. Still, it's better than not trying interesting things before you die.