That hill was the only thing standing between me and the love of my life, and I couldn't help but be a little terrified. The thing was freaking huge, covered in loose gravel, and, despite my parents being the most trustworthy beings I knew, some deep part of me was still convinced the car would slip and slide backwards and we would crash to our deaths.
The stable must have had the same problem at some point, because there was a side road that did a slow wrap-around to the parking lot (in the loosest sense of the word) that was wedged against the paddocks. My mom took that road, and instead of agonizing over a horrible vehicular death, I was left to squirm in my seat, twisting around in my seat belt looking at all the horses and wondering which one I would get to ride. Hopefully none of the dreary prospects out here: there was a draft horse, a pony, a mule, a tall gelding half asleep. None were appealing. This was something I never got to do, still couldn't quite believe I was getting to do it. I didn't want to spend the hour on an unwieldy Clydesdale or dwarfish pony. I'd ridden enough ponies at petty zoos, thank you very much.
We parked in front of another set of white-fenced paddocks, mostly empty. I admired a lovely chestnut at the far end of the row before throwing off my seat belt and whipping the sliding door open, launching myself out of the car and landing with a crunch of gravel and a cloud of dust. Oregon had decided to grace this momentous occasion with a rare sunny day. It was late afternoon, and the sunlight shafted over the stables and indoor riding arena.
I waited at the back of the car, more annoyed right now that I had siblings than when my sister bit me when I was eight, or when my brother kept us up at night with his wailing as an infant.
"C'mon!"
I suppose my mom may have been frustrated at my impatience, but I was saved from any reprimand by the appearance of the instructor, Matt.
He smiled at me, I grinned back, feeling a little bit like an idiot because I couldn't stop grinning. Matt said a few things to my mom. She and my siblings were welcome to wait in the house, or they could come to the arena and sit in the office to watch. We parted, my family for the arena, Matt and I for the stables.
I was hoping to ride a white horse and was a little disappointed when I got a dark brown mare named Rose, but I was freaking getting to ride a horse, I wasn't going to make a single complaint.
"This is Rose. She's a little stubborn, so don't be afraid to kick her." Matt gave me her lead line, and then just left me there holding her while he retrieved the tack.
My hands shook, were cold with sweat and I had to hold the rope tight. Matt brought the tack out and set it on the ground near Rose. He took the rope from me, tied it around the bars of an empty stall and beckoned me to follow him to the tack room.
"Here's your saddle. Can you carry it?"
I nodded. He plopped the saddle onto my outstretched arms and I staggered a little under the weight. The leather was well-worn but well taken care of, smelled of sweat and horse.
It was the best thing I had ever smelled in my entire life. Better than narcissus, better than lavender, better than roses. It was a warm smell, straw and animal, the smell of the life I wanted to have.
My cheeks ached from the ear-to-ear grin that lived on my face.
Matt had me put the saddle on, guided my hands as he explained how to properly secure the tack. "Don't make it too tight, or it'll chafe her as you ride." I stood there, silent, nodding as he pointed out what strap went into what buckle, absorbed every bit of equestrian knowledge he sent my way. He told me never to walk around the back of a horse, but I already knew that from the myriad books I had read involving horses and horse care.
"Next time, I want you to try doing it by yourself."
Holy shit, there was going to be a next time? Holyshitholyshitholyshitholyshitholyshit!
"Now take her lead line and tell her to follow you."
Holy shit, I had control of the most beautiful thing in the world. I wasn't afraid; I knew that people said horses could kill you but it wasn't something I believed. They were too magnificent. I loved them too much. The only thing horses could do to me was . . . . undistilled pleasure. Since my first pony ride at a pumpkin patch, I knew I loved riding horses.
And holy shit, right now, I was going to ride a goddamned horse. My world could not get better.
Matt lead me to the starting point in the arena. I lead Rose, told her to stop where Matt stood. My mom waved to me from the window of the office, where my sister sat on a chair swinging her feet back and forth. My brother was in my mother's arms asleep.
Matt crouched and cupped his hands.
Right then, as I brought one leg up and put my foot in his hands, I knew what I was doing.
I glided into the saddle, swung my leg over Rose's back, and planted my feet in the stirrups like I had done it a million times before. I grabbed the reins in the same motion. My hands had stopped shaking and an unfamiliar kick and a squeeze started in my chest.
"Pull this way to turn her left," he tugged on the left rein, "and this way to go right. Pull back, hard because she's a stubborn girl, to get her to stop. Kick once to get her to walk. You only have to kick once to get her to change her pace. Now try walking her around the barrels."
I gave her a light kick, not wanting to hurt the center of my universe.
Nothing happened. Matt smiled in a patient way. "It's okay to kick harder."
I kicked harder and she finally moved. Matt walked along side for a few steps, then stopped and let me complete the first two laps on my own.
"Good. Ready to trot?" He called from the other side of the arena
At this point, I think my face was stuck in a perma-grin.
"Hell yeah."
Rose started to slow, almost stopped as we came back around to where Matt stood. He smacked her haunch as we passed and she jumped into a canter.
And I rode that horse as naturally as I can take a deep breath. I guided her around the barrels, leaned into the turn, kept my balance atop that powerful animal with the same ease I stayed atop a balance beam. The rest of the world didn't matter, it didn't matter this was only for an hour once a week, because this was paradise, my personal heaven. I was riding a stubborn horse and doing a damn good job at it. Even when the exercise was stepped up a notch -- picking a jug off the barrels while still going at a full canter -- I couldn't be toppled. I trusted this horse. She knew I was in charge. For an hour I became one with stunning creature and we were both unstoppable.
I dismounted onto unsteady legs. Whether from physical exertion or the pure adrenaline rush of having experienced a major aspiration, I couldn't tell. I lead Rose back to the stables, went through the process of removing her saddle and the tack, storing them in the tack room on the hook with "Rose" written above it on painter's tape.
My mom paid Matt and thanked him. I remember she kept hitching my brother higher onto her hip -- he wanted to terrorize the peacocks.
"Wilhelmina's got a lot of natural talent for this. Next week we'll try riding bareback."
Bareback? My heart skipped a beat. Bareback? I would often daydream about riding my horse bareback through tall grass, in dark woods, through foothills. The thought of being allowed to connect so intimately with a horse, the thing I loved most in the world, in just another week made me light-headed and wondering that if, were I to look down that forty-five degree hill, I would see the twisted wreckage of our blue van, my family and I dead inside it and my love never realized.
"In a few months, she could probably stand on Rose's back and be galloped in a circle."
Every image I had ever seen of jumping events or trick riding paraded through my head as I thanked Matt. I think he must have enjoyed making me so happy, considering I had been smiling for almost two hours without pause.
As we drove down the steep gravel incline, I was a little surprised when our mangled car wasn't at the bottom.
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