Horseback riding proves a rough but fun ride

I have not ridden a horse in quite some time. It has probably been ten to 15 years since I awkwardly threw my leg over a saddle and put my life in the hands of an animal that is probably a little indignant about having to haul around 170 pounds of extra payload for the next three hours.

As I arrived at the headquarters of Jerry Carr’s outfitting operation, I was met by my guide Tracy Caldwell and a guide trainee, David Collins as well as Carr himself. Carr and Caldwell took me through a few basics about directional commands as well as safety tips like how to stay on the horse for which I was rather thankful.

Staying on the horse is important because if one were to fall with a boot stuck in a stirrup, all of sudden you are not going for the intended ride but something else entirely. I tried to suppress the visions in my head of being dragged helplessly along as hoofs stomped near my body or on it as my head bounced off really hard things like rocks and such along the ground.

Needless to say I listened intently as the techniques for not falling off my trusty steed named Cuervo were reviewed. Then I was instructed to take a few practice trips around the yard to make sure I clearly understood how to stay on the horse and move him around before myself, Collins and Caldwell began our trip.

As we rode in formation along the road, I began to settle in to the motion of the horse before he switched gears and began to delightfully trot down the road. As I bounced up and down slamming each time down into the saddle, I had the idea that perhaps this was Cuervo’s way of breaking me in as I assumed he had been broken in at one time during his training and perhaps this was payback.

Cuervo settled down at my urging from the bone-shattering trot and returned to the slower pace that was much more comfortable on what I could only assume would be a heavily damaged body after this ride.

Caldwell kept the conversation lively as she rode atop Banjo, recounting stories about her experiences riding and her love of horses. Caldwell has been riding since she was a little girl and clearly enjoyed the leisurely ride during her time off as a cook and assistant for Carr’s outfitting company.

Collins, having recently relocated to Plains to train as a guide at Carr’s school, seemed already at ease in the saddle strapped to his horse, Benny.

After travelling down a trail for a mile or so, we were afforded breathtaking views of the mountains and the valleys below. A small meadow dotted with wildflowers seemed a perfect place to break for lunch and to give my backside a little respite.

Not that I was expecting my horse to have shock absorbers or be wearing a pair of Nikes but still, my weak city-slicker body was feeling the effects of Cuervo’s relentless desire to get me in shape.

After lunch we mounted our horses and headed back at a quicker pace this time. According to Caldwell, the horses travel faster on the way back because they know they are going home.

I also assumed that they were probably keen to get these heavy things off their backs and return to normal life eating grass and generally being a horse again instead of a mode of transportation for these lazy things that walk upright for some strange reason.

The trip was a thoroughly entertaining way to spend an afternoon and the company of Caldwell and Collins made the experience a great way to bruise one’s body.

So if you see me around Plains in the next few days, feel free to point and laugh as I hobble down the street searching for the remains of my dignity and if you happen to have one of those padded donut things that I could borrow to sit on, it would be greatly appreciated.