First ride....

“Whats the matter with you? Don’t tell me you are too afraid to get on that horse” Jim, the barn owner, said to me with a smirk. “He isn’t going to hurt you! Hell, I had a cowboy hop on his back when he was two years old and he only bucked a few times!”

“Well, I don’t really want any bucks” I said shyly. I had been dumped enough learning to ride Sue’s horses that I knew risking serious injury was just dumb. “Then I guess I better get on him for you and show you he won’t hurt you”! Next thing I knew Jim had a big, heavy western saddle on Mystery’s back and hopped right on. Mystery just stood there, bracing against the weight, ears to the side and didn’t move. “See, he won’t hurt you”!

I don’t remember the first time I rode him. It was probably in the round pen, probably with Sue and her horses. I do remember the mechanical hackamore Susan gave me to use on him. I didn’t know it then, but it can be a very harsh piece of equipment if used in the wrong hands. By then I was riding ‘western’ with a loose rein and I knew enough to release the pressure when I achieved the response I wanted. If I asked him to stop, he would stop and pressure would be released. If not I would pull, release, pull release until he did. Susan also taught me to use my leg to circle him and keep him from going forward. I started riding him. First in the round pen, then out in the open space with Susan babysitting us.

That summer was short, and brief. The horses looked good, the grass had grown in, and we were supplementing their feed. Days were spent at the pond at the back of the ranch with Sue and her kids. Or just fooling around with the horses, pretending we were teenagers again.
When Sue couldn’t ride, I would work on Mystery, and then catch Sonny for a ‘real’ ride. One day Susan and I were out riding and turned to head home. Mystery spooked and came to a sudden stop. I went over his shoulder and landed flat on my back…something I did quite often until I learned to really sit my seat. He was loose and I figured I’d be walking the rest of the way home but instead he came over to me and peered down into my face like “what are you doing down there?”. Good horse.

But this wasn’t ‘real’ training. Mystery was a mature horse, self-reliant, use to taking care of himself. As he put on weight and condition, he became more head strong. Soon, we started arguing, where to go, how fast, when to stop. My work had just begun….