The first time I rode a horse, I was about five years old. I was briefly on the horse, then briefly flying through the air, then waking up in my Aunt Mary’s living room with everyone around me looking very worried and debating whether they should take me to the hospital.
I still wanted to try riding a horse after that, but despite living a 45-minute drive from the home of the Kentucky Derby for years, I never got the chance.
When Chad and I bought our house this summer, we discovered no fewer than four places with horses within walking distance of us. One advertises itself as a training stable, and every time we passed it I’d comment that I’d like to check with them about taking a lesson sometime.
So when Chad gave me my birthday presents this year, one of them was a plain white envelope that held the release forms for us to take horseback riding lessons at High Caliber Stables.
High Caliber isn’t one of the places by our house, but it isn’t far away, either. About a three-minute drive. In fact, we looked at a couple of houses right across the street from it. And this past Saturday, Chad and I headed out there for my first time on a horse in 35 years.
When we got to High Caliber, Evan, one of the owners, greeted us and took us on a short tour of the stables — including introducing us to the dogs. He also asked if either of us had any experience riding horses. I told him about that time back when I was five. Chad told him about getting to ride horses, camels, elephants, etc, during his childhood in the carnival. Although Chad’s experience was a first for him, Evan said a lot of people tell stories similar to mine when they come for their first lesson, and he assured me that (a) I would have a bridle to hang onto this time and (b) they’d put me on a really calm horse. In fact, he already had one in mind, an easygoing fella named Oscar.
After our tour, Evan turned us over to their office manager, Mickey, whom Chad had been emailing with to set up our lesson. She got us set up with helmets, and then had three of the girls who take lessons at High Caliber get the horses we were going to ride and show us how to brush them down. Then it was time to get saddles — and riders — on the horses.
I always thought saddles were like what you see in the movies. Big, one-piece contraptions that go on the horse pre-assembled. I’m sure some saddles are like that, but the ones we used actually came in parts: the saddle itself; the girth, which attached to the saddle and went under the horse’s abdomen; and the stirrups, which got attached to each side of the saddle and are designed to slide back and off the saddle if you find yourself unexpectedly no longer on the horse, so you don’t get dragged.
We moved into the practice ring, which was a large area inside the stable with a virtual mountain of sawdust in the middle. Evan explained to me how to get onto Oscar, then had me climb the little step-stool and give it a shot. Left foot in the stirrup, stand up straight, then right leg up and over the horse’s back.
Chad says the first thing he noticed when he got on his horse, Spirit, was how tall you are when you’re on a horse. I’m just proud to say that I managed to get on the horse the first try.
Evan gave us thorough instructions about how to sit in the saddle — knees in, heels down, back straight, and don’t lean forward — and how to hold the reins — at ten and two, like a car’s steering wheel, and with your hands gripping the reins like ice cream cones. I made sure to ask questions about anything I wasn’t clear on, because I wanted to do this right.
And then we were off.
We started out with someone walking the horses for us before they loosed the bridle and let us handle the horses on our own. As I went around the ring, I remember thinking, “I should have done this years ago!”
True to everything Evan, and Mickey, and everyone else said, Oscar was a sweetheart. He knew exactly what he was doing. As I rode past people who were walking through the stables or sitting on the benches at the end of the practice ring, people who’d been to the stables many times before and knew the horses there, they’d call out to me, “You have the BEST horse!”
I have to agree. 🙂
Evan had us try a few different things, like turning the horse around to go the opposite way or walking him in a small circle. I only had trouble with Oscar once, after Evan had me practice shortening my hold on the reins. Oscar was still very mellow, walking his familiar path around the ring, but every once in awhile he’d kick his head up. I’ve learned from my years of working with cats that if they’re doing something out of the ordinary (usually something you wish they wouldn’t), it’s because they’re trying to tell you something. So I had a good idea the same thing was going on here, but I didn’t know enough about horses to figure out what Oscar was trying to say. When Evan next had us come back to the center of the ring, I asked him about it, and he confirmed my suspicions. When a horse does that, he explained,it’s telling you that you’re holding its head too tight with the reins. By kicking his head up like that, Oscar was asking me to loosen up on the reins, to give him a bit more slack. So I did.
About that time Evan said that he wanted to have us trot, and I’ll admit to a brief flash of fear at that. Not that I was scared of falling off — I had the reins to hold onto this time, after all, and a saddle — but I was intimidated by whether I could do it right. Turns out I had nothing to worry about. Evan had me hang onto the bridle where it went around Oscar’s neck, and he led Oscar around the ring into a trot. This was just to see if Chad and I could “keep our seat”. I did pretty good at first, even getting a compliment from Evan, but once Oscar got up to speed I was bouncing around pretty bad. Still, I did much better than I expected for my first time, and I’m sure I’ll improve over time.
The last thing we learned at our lesson was how to dismount. That’s the one I’m most proud of myself for. I got to use a step-stool to get on the horse, because at 5′ 4″ I’m far too short to get up on a horse without some assistance. However, I learned I wouldn’t have that luxury when dismounting.
One thing you have to bear in mind is that, although I’m not scared of horses, I’m terrified of heights. And my definition of heights includes anything that feels like I’m falling (or might), whether that’s two stories or two inches. It took me years to stop clinging to the bannister with a death grip when walking down a flight of stairs. So sliding backwards off something where I can’t see the ground makes me break out in a cold sweat.
I toyed with asking if I could use the step-stool, just this once, but decided to suck it up and face my fear. After all, that’s been one of my New Year’s resolutions this year, to face my fear of heights. I listened carefully as Evan explained how to dismount: stand up in the stirrups, take my right foot out of the stirrup and bring it over, lie down across the horse’s back, take my left foot out of its stirrup, then slide down to the ground.
Yeah, it’s that “slide down to the ground” part that gets me.
I had a couple false starts standing up and getting my right foot clear of the stirrup, but I reseated myself, ran through the steps with Evan again to make sure I understood everything, then went for it. Getting to where I was lying across Oscar’s back wasn’t too bad, but as I slid off and gravity took hold, I yelped.
But I made it, and that’s what counts, right?
All in all, I had a fantastic time, and I’m really looking forward to my next lesson. So is Chad. He’s already emailing with Mickey to set up another one. It’ll probably have to wait until next week, because they’re doing a horse competition in Raleigh this week, but once every other week is about all I can squeeze into my schedule at the moment anyway.
Chad and I did get a chuckle out of one thing from the lesson, though, which we shared with Evan, his wife and co-owner Mary, and Mickey. In addition to writing a novel right now, I’m editing a manuscript for an RPG publisher. The author’s name? Oscar.