So I took my troop horseback riding Sunday - I know - you just CAN'T get enough of my girl scout stories. Anyway, It was a gorgeous, autumn afternoon - peaceful and quiet as we rode through the woods for ninety minutes. Oh sure, there was the occasional horse in front of you stopping to crap - a VERY disturbing sight up close - but the weather was perfect and the leaves were turning. Aside from the girls snickering every time a horse stopped to 'go,' it was idyllic.
The girls got to choose their horses. Of course my daughter (see above) - the super tall kid, picks the Welsh pony. She looked like and adult riding a dog. I asked her why she chose him, and she said, "Cuz I thought we'd look weird together." In a strange way, that made total sense to me.
Once the girls were done, Jo, the horse facilitator said to her staff, "Bring out the 'Adult' horses." For a moment I thought maybe these were horses rescued from the porn industry. But then my friend Lisa leaned over and translated, "She means the horses who can handle us big girls." I prefer to think that these are the maverick mustangs that only she and I can handle.
Of course, Lisa gets Rusty - the Hannibal Lechter of horses - as is evidenced by the above photo. Jo insists that Rusty does not have an obsessive need to consume human flesh with a nice chianti and fava beans - he just won't stop eating grass...EVER. That's why he has the cage on his face. Maybe - but I stood two steps back, just in case.
This is me on my trusty steed, Apache - breathing fire through his nostrils as he chomps at the bit to charge off into the sunset. Except that the stallion was really a mare. And she was very sweet. And her name was Shelley. I tried not to be disappointed, but she wouldn't rear up on her hind legs - not even a little.
Here you can see how tiny Meg's horse was. Lauren - in the top photo - is as tall as Meg. She picked a normal sized horse. Not my kid.
Jo asked if they wanted to groom the horses when they were done. These are girls who I KNOW have to be held at gunpoint to brush their cats or dogs at home - I was certain they'd say no.
I was wrong. They brushed these horses like they were giving them professional massages at a horse day spa.
In the end - it was a great day, even if I didn't get to gallop into the sunset. Once my butt stops hurting, maybe I'll think about doing it again. Someday.