Just Horsing Around

Do YOU enjoy horses?

In 1986 on a visit to St. Bonifacious, Minnesota, I came face to face with a terrifying new challenge: riding horses. The Stanchfield farm stood on the edge of a grove of old oak trees at the end of a long dirt road. Crisp autumn air blew through the slats on the corral fence as the horses within slowly walked the perimeter. “Would you guys like to ride?” called Judy from the doorway of the barn. “Ah, sure,” I answered for Nola and myself, not really sure if I actually did want to ride. “Well, go on into the fence at the gate and wait there for me,” replied Judy as she finished feeding the baby cows their test formula. You see the Stanchfield farm tested new and “improved” animal feed on young cattle as a part of its function. The horses were just for fun we were told. “Have you guys ridden before?” asked Judy as she approached the two of us. Nola replied that neither of us had ever ridden before other than a trail ride or two in the Eagle River area so we were not too familiar with the process.

Nola was introduced to a older female whose name was, “Misty.” I was led over to a younger male who as luck would have it, carried the moniker of “Rocket.” “He’s a good horse. You shouldn’t have any trouble with him,” stated Judy in a matter of fact way. I should have known better even then as I approached Rocket and he stared at me as if to say, “Whoo boy, here’s a live one…y’all watch this.” With Nola mounted in her saddle, I grasped the horn and swung my leg up and over as I’d seen John Wayne do on many TV westerns. “That wasn’t so bad,” I thought as my rump settled into the leather cradle. Judy handed me the reins and said, “OK, just kick his flank a bit to get him started,” and she backed away towards the fencing to watch. Big mistake. I did as she instructed and suddenly Rocket was off like one to the other end of the hard-packed corral at a dead run.

I jerked back into the saddle and my head whipped like a rag doll as Rocket kept gaining speed. I pulled back on the reins with both hands until the bit dug into his mouth as deep as it was ever going to, but still the horse ran at top speed towards the other side of the fence. Bam, bam, bam went the saddle under my butt as I let out a whoop and desperately hung on with both knees as the ground below whizzed by. Just as I felt we were about to smash into the adjacent fence, Rocket pulled up and turned around. “Whew!” I exhaled, as it appeared as if the nightmarish ride was finally over. I looked over at Judy from the opposite side of the fenced area and was about to say something when Rocket took off again at break-neck speed back. Uh, Uh, Uh, Uh, Uh! Was about all I could get to escape as my body bucked up and down on Rocket’s back. Pulling the reins back with all my might, Rocket seemed to increase his top speed and mock my attempts to control his movements as he raced headlong to the other side once again. This terrifying sequence repeated itself two more times with my anxiety growing by the second as I failed in the slightest way to make Rocket do anything I wished.

Just when I thought I’d have to hold on until my next birthday, Judy stepped in and distracted Rocket with a carrot so that he braked so instantly I almost flipped over his lowered head. Judy had a look of embarrassment as she tried to explain that he’d never done that before. I shakily dismounted and kissed the ground I’d almost been tossed upon. “Damn!” I exclaimed, “I don’t ever want to do that again.”I guess I can honestly say that horses and I do not understand each other...