Ride a not so Painted Pony: When I was about twelve, I was horseless. This is a state no cowboy ever wants to find himself. It is no fun running amongst the cattle on foot beating a lariat against your leg, at any age, and at twelve when you stand eyeball to eyeball with the cows, well.....they just dont seem that impressed. I was not completely without resources. I had an uncle, who was an avid horseman, and a cousin (his son), just older than me who liked to ride at least as much as I. On occasions I had to visit he would mount his steed and I got to ride my uncles big walker. On the occasion that presented this story I had been astride the big red gelding more than once but not more than three times. We were still new to each other. I rode in my uncles big roper saddle which at seventeen inches of seat, allowed me enough room to lounge with the size of my seat at that age. I had been given careful instructions on how to ride the beast. He was a horsemans horse. When you want to go, cluck and nudge with your heel, tighten the rein just slightly. When you want to stop, say whoa, and drop the rein loose. I listened carefully, but this seemed counter intuitive! I had watched countless episodes of rawhide, the big valley, and every movie John Wayne and Clint Eastwood had ever made, and all those guys hauled back on the reins when they wanted to stop their steeds. So while I took note of what I was told, the mental picture of hauling on the reins was still a vividly represented necessity for stopping a 15 hundred pound horse in full gallop. We rode the bottom lands fantasizing about bad guys and Indians, life on the range and the general philosophy of the cowboy life. Anxious we were to travel West to the land of John Wayne, and our pal Clint. It was a hot July or August day, the air was still and the horses lathered at the edges of their tack, though wed never broken a walk. Cows were chewing their cuds standing in branches and mud holes, whisking flies with their tails and occasionally slinging cud slobber at the flies their tails could not reach. We knew it was too hot to run the horses and had been warned not to do so much. But, as we started the last leg home, we were overcome with the urge to feel the wind in our faces and the power of the horses under us. So with a cluck and a nudge, we broke a canter. Ahead in our trek, there was a large open gateway connecting the lower to the upper pasture. In that gateway, as it often the case, there existed a broad shallow mud hole, It being thoroughly shaded by a large live oak, it was highly sought after comfort of lazy cattle, and, was in fact presently inhabited by 6 or 8 bovine of varying sizes, arranged roughly hind side to hind side, with heads pointed to the perimeter, since even cattle dont like to smell cattle in close quarter. At about 50 yards distant my cousin reined his horse up slowing him by saying whoa, and tightening the reins, and I reflexively did the same, but to totally opposite effect. The big red walker, ever obedient to his instructions, redouble in speed. This took me somewhat aback and I resorted to default mode, which was panic! I reflexively hauled on the reins and declared whoa with the insistence of Gabriels trumpet. My steed responded in his own panic, before his feet had struck the ground five more beats we were all out. Hell bent for leather we closed the distance to the gap. The horses neck stretched low and long, ears pinned back, nostrils flared, teeth clenching the torturous bit, feet kicking up a rooster tail of dirt and dust in the blistering heat, we rocketed forward. Me screaming whoa! While giving contradicting instructions with the reins, had no doubt convinced the horse he was being ridden by the devils own. His one thought must have been that his only hope was to run out from under, me. My cousin had realized at once where the error lay, and he goaded his horse forward yelling arcane instructions, to assuage the stress of the crazed animal and the horse as well. But my fevered mind could make no use of it. As we barreled toward the unsuspecting cattle my mind was caught up in a vision of an animal wreck of heretofore unheard of magnitude, where cattle either exploded on impact or were hurled end over end through the air like bowling pins. I leaned forward in the saddle and prepared to die. During most of this brief but very intense chain of events the cattle had remained sullen and bored, nearly motionless as if they had been carefully planted in the cool muddy water. Whether the sound of the horses hooves, or the plaintive peels of my own voice, or the combination of both, broke their trance I can not say, but several strides from impact we gained all their attention. It may be hard to imagine a startled look in the face of a cow, but startled they did appear, and with reflexes I had not known them to posses, they all broke at once, like a cluster of pool balls each in a different direction. For a moment, looking down on them from considerable elevation, for the horse had sprung forth from the earth like winged Pegasus, it appeared that we might avoid collision altogether. But, one small heifer, which had been lounging in the middle of the gathering, hadnt had time to make way, and as we made way overhead she had the unfortunate luck to choose the direction we were traveling as her escape route. The big red landed squarely astride the frightened bovine a if the scene had been ordained by God from the foundation of the earth. It took only two more uncertain hops by the big gelding for her to find passport between the front and rear legs and beneath my left leg stirrup. The big gelding stopped head high, ears perked, eyes large and sides working like a bellows, no doubt wondering if he had successfully completed the task his demon rider had set him too. I leapt to the ground on shaky legs looking about for carnage and trying to decide whether to run home or to Ecuador! No cattle were injured and the horse showed no signs of physical injury. Though, I am relatively sure his mental state was never the same. You just cant be ridden by demons and not carry something away from that. ;-)
Posted on: Thu, 20 Nov 2014 03:19:23 +0000
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