Let’s take a ride on the Wayback Machine shall we as we begin this National Blogging Posting Month in earnest!
My sister started this whole thing. She rode at a barn near our house so of course when I got old enough I wanted to do the same thing. I think I started a bit later though then most I don’t think I really started riding until I was ten years old.
I started riding or taking lessons because I really wasn’t good in sports at all. Not athletic at all (Shocker to those who know me HA). And my sister and brother were sports maniacs. My brother played baseball/football/golf. My sister played basketball and softball and rode. They tried to teach me how to throw a ball once. Yeah it went about like expected. And catching it was worse! So went my sports career.
I am pretty sure my brother and sister were convinced I was adopted at that stage. The were humiliated.
My first memory of me wanting to actually be on a horse was when my sister actually had her horse Dandy at home for a bit. I have no idea what kind of horse he was but he was chestnut with white (and splashes of white) so I assume he was a pinto of some sort. I would sit on him bareback (I was about 5 or 6 then) while my sister held him and let him graze. Yeah. That ended really well when a train went by one day. Dandy was nowhere and I was on the grass.
For some reason(or I am just exceedingly stupid, no comment) I still wanted to learn to ride. My family finally agreed to lessons. (Get Dad a beer or two and let him tell you the downfall of our family is our inability to stay out of horses,ha). I went to the same farm as my sister and that was the best thing that happened to me. Mrs. Bradley treated us all like family. I need to find and scan an article written by one of her former riding students when she died in 2012. I cherished the time growing up there.
I could walk there from my house so I did that and I got one lesson a week and my parents paid for that. I also worked off more so I could ride more. I cleaned stalls, did whatever was needed. We would clean stalls all Saturday then walk two miles to the nearest McDonalds and eat our weight in food due to working so hard.
We (barn kids) used to race up the barn lane to get there first so we could get pick of the horses we had in the lessons. They were a motley crew. I rode Idaho at first, a mean as snot pinto pony who had a mane that stood straight up. He was such a sour puss but he was probably five hundred years old then HA! But he was slow and easy to learn to post on.
There were other horses that we fought over too. Mrs. Bradley had an Appaloosa (Gunsmoke or Smoke) that had done dressage and was amazing if you could get him in a frame and get him moving. IF NOT he was a back breaker. OMG his trot. Silk or sow. LOL We would fight over him and then those that got him usually wished they hadn’t OR would be very proud they had gotten him, it could change in a second!
It was a great place to learn to ride and I learned a lot. I honestly don’t think I would still be riding if it wasn’t for Mrs. Bradley’s place. We showed, we lost, we won once in awhile. We had a lot of fun!
Mrs. Bradley also introduced me to Morgan horses and my very first horse was from her and was a Morgan gelding bred and raised at her farm. That is whole other story but here is a photo of Pasha my horse from Mrs. Bradley’s breeding program (and my friend Stacy and her Arab/QH gelding CAF Mister Bear). Ahh memories.
Thanks Mrs. Bradley for putting up with all her girls. Boy she had her work cut out for her! So in essence I started riding because my sister did, but I kept riding for the very reason that I smiled throughout writing this whole post. It just makes me very very happy to be around horses (and the people who love them)!
Celebrate NaBloPoMo 2017 by writing every day in November, following the prompts given!