The Great Pumpkin Rides Again

If horses read blogs, I would take this time to thank Julian for today's adventure. As it seems unlikely, I thanked him with molasses treats before I left the barn, instead.

Today was the kind of ride I dream of. (I have to dream of them, as they are so very rare!) The weather was crisp, the wind smelled like fireplaces, and all the goddamn mosquitoes were dead. More determined than ever to escape the ranch after the last failed riding attempt, I made it to the barn around 4 p.m. today. Before Julian had a chance to start his dance, I longed him in the covered arena. He bucked and snorted on the end of the line. I kept my snorting to myself.


After a good ten minutes, I tethered him to a stud in the barn (one of these days he will pull it all down around us, but happily today was not that day) and let him cool his heels as I curried and brushed him. As he started pawing at the sand, I tacked him, and considered re-naming him "Quit it!" due to the number of times the words left my lips during the process. Still dancing after being tacked, I longed him again.

He was full of energy, still kicking out this second time around, and not hesitating to canter endless circles around me. I made sure to temper these with several "walk" and "trot" commands, just to make sure he knew I was there. He did.

Still snorting and half-dancing, we made our way out to the front of the barn, where I had remembered to drag the mounting block before I even caught him. In a blessed coincidence, Dan (50% ranch owner) was passing by just as we came out and held Julian as I mounted, saving me a guaranteed 15 minutes of pirouetting with my horse.

I'd like to say I looked smart in all black gear on my all black horse, but instead I bore a strong resemblence to the Great Pumpkin on horseback. I had topped off my black breeches, gloves, helmet and coat with an orange hunter's vest. One, I did not wish to be shot through with an arrow meant for a local deer and two, should I be dumped in the woods by my noble steed, I thought it prudent to be dressed in something that would make my body easier to find. Hey--I'm nothing if not practical.

Both Dan and Tam (100% of the ranch owners) looked a little nervous about me taking off on my own, but Tam remarked that my vest would make it easier for her to follow me from the ranch house with her binoculars. I told them should I not return by dark, to send the Mounties. We jested, but it was reassuring none-the-less that they were home during my outing. I don't fear getting hurt on a ride near as much as I fear getting hurt and not being able to get help until I've suffered for an unreasonable amount of time. I knew for a fact that they would indeed ride out to find me if I didn't make it back. That is worthwhile insurance to have.

Luckily, their services proved unnecessary. Julian and I navigated the long drive and the short path along the road that led to the corn field without incident. He glanced back over his shoulder a few times for his buddies, but kept moving forward. As we entered the field, I changed my seat and gathered the reins.

And he ran.

Warning: You should not run a horse who is not in good physical condition--just as a human shouldn't go from walking to running marathons in one fell swoop. Having said that, we both found cantering through endless acres of cut corn to be absolutely invigorating. He slowed to a trot as we crested the hill and came up alongside his herd on the other side of the fence. I explained to him--to my horse--that running with him freed my soul, as I scratched his withers. He seemed uninterested.

So we ran some more. We cantered along the rows of corn, then circled around and ran along the edges of the field which were bordered by woods. We would save those trails for another time. We cantered up to the owners of this farm working with a chainsaw to clear brush. Julian did not like the sound of the saw, so we went left and cantered again across the field towards the road, which was several acres away. As it came into view, we easily swerved right and cantered along with the cars and trucks that passed us by. I wished I was not wearing a vest so distracting that it would draw their eyes from my handsome partner.

As we rounded the property again, I rode up to the owners. It took a few shouts to get their attention, but once they turned around, Julian captured it quickly. I wanted to thank them for giving us this rare freedom. They asked his name, and his wife came up to pet him. The husband noted that he looked pretty anxious to move on. We don't get out much, I explained, and it made him a tad nervous. Unlike his wife, he seemed comfortable staying at a distance from my dancer.

As we trotted away it occurred to me that I had introduced my horse but not myself. Typical. Julian is a hefty distraction where social interaction is concerned. There is no questioning his role as the center of attention among mere humans. I would learn their names later.

It wasn't until I was cooling him out that I remembered the singing. I had forgotten to sing. Though the beautiful harvest moon that would later rise had not done so yet, I sang a few lyrically-challenged phrases from Moonshadow. His ears flickered back and forth, and he asked to run. So we ran--galloped--and the wind ripped my words from the air. Even the wind knew that galloping was worth far more than singing. Julian's head bobbed with the effort he put into his sprint. It is not easy for a horse so large to move at such speeds, and he was focused and serious about winning this one-horse race.

I can say without reservation that we did indeed win today.