Recently I was riding my trusty horse, Draco. We were going out for a trail ride around sunset time, if I recall correctly, it was probably 4:15 pm that we left. I have never gone out on trail at night and after going out on a hike with my friends the week before during the night, I just had to go out with my horse. The way the clouds melted away to uncover bright twinkling stars and the crisp, cutting breeze…I had just to be out there again. So we went.
The trail we went on was a familiar trail between some neighbor’s houses, up a fireroad, and up towards the ridge of the mountain behind the family ranch. I’ve gone through just about every trail and every way that wasn't a trail up, down, left, and right of that mountain. Safe to say, I know it pretty well. Once Draco and I reached the ridge there was a very tall, steep incline for us to climb. Like a mountain goat, my horse raced up there with no regard for the wind blowing back down on him. Reaching the upper part of the ridge was a euphoric experience, not like other prior…and we did it many times prior! What really stood out was the ocean of color radiating off of the sunset, into the clouds and through the sky, barely obstructing the stars. The plants all swayed in that crisp, sharp nightly breeze and everything was a gorgeous hue of red.
We continued throughout the ridge but I remembered that this trail is actually rather long and ends up shooting me out into the dark, dark boonies. I couldn’t be out there like that! Not with my haunting imagination…and my mom’s sheer amount of worry. I had to get out of the trail and head home but coming the way I came was also rather risky for my horse and I. So I opted to do what I can only describe as one of my more stupid decisions: I went straight to my house and by extension, straight down the side of the mountain. Now, this is not something I am just trying as an effort to get home, I have done this before to get closer looks at deer, have more fun, and explore. But I must add, I usually did this during the daytime!
The place I decided to dismount the mountain was a place I had been to more than once, I knew where I was and how it took me to the fireroad. I also knew that this part of the mountain had a few real treacherous areas and where to avoid them. Coming down the mountain was a really nice downhill…not some steep incline. I loped a portion of it and trotted the rest. Then I came to a sort of fork in the road where I could go right and end up by the mineshafts (that are VERY haunted) or go left and ride in a water cut out between the embankments. Naturally I chose the latter and started in that direction. There was a small problem, however…I couldn’t see! It was dark enough that everything just about blended into each other and I pretty much only knew the general direction of where I headed and hardly even that. Draco and I headed down towards the embankment but encountered huge boulders that he could never have crossed, so we backtracked and tried again, this time he just kept going and made all the rocks, silt, and sand come down with him. Trees were hitting both of our legs and it just got darker and darker. I was scared. I don’t really know the last time I was genuinely scared on my horse like that (except at the haunted mine shafts...but that's a story for another day).
It was amazing how all recollection of where we were escaped me…I didn’t know where I was, I didn’t know how it was going to end, I didn’t know if I was going to have to hike, I thought that it may have been it for me, or at least I would’ve gotten seriously hurt. Bewildered, confused, and scared we persisted. There were a few lights ahead so if all else failed, I knew where I had to go…how to get there was another story. As we were sliding down the mountain I was so scared and I was trying to pull on Draco to slow him down. He didn’t. He wasn’t taking off, but the momentum and the sliding dirt kept him up at a trotting pace, though he was actually closer to walking.
That particular trail ride he wore a two rein…no pull on either bosal nor bit could get him to even think of slowing down. I certainly don’t like the fact that I was pulling on him rather hard but I was scared. And yet…it seemed to not only do nothing, but make things worse. I felt poor Draco mess up his feet and take missteps upon each pull. I couldn’t do anything at this point, I just had to trust him.
Upon reaching the little water cutout we were somewhat safe. Although Yucca and Juniper plants left Draco and I with our fair share of scratches and couple cuts, we were going at a better pace. A ways down this path the ride begins all over again, we end up stepping down through brush and old twigs probably 2 feet before real ground, it felt like an extra step on the stares…but way more startling. We continued to climb up and down what sounded like rocks and shrubs. I don’t know to be honest. All I could rely on was the sound of his ironclad hooves kicking the rocks down into the water cutout. Junipers continued to hit me on my legs and it only got darker. The only difference this time was that we got to the fireroad right after.
I think sometimes life tends to be like that mountain, at least in my limited experience. I almost think of how so much is changing and becoming different for me in the past few months. It all feels so fast and sometimes I just want to yank the reins and pray it will do something. Just like the trees hitting my legs, the rocks sliding down with me, the darkness hanging over it all. I feel identity change, college starting, training my filly, preparing for VRH world show, starting a new discipline in reined cow horse… I think we all sometimes worry too much when all we need to do is trust God that we’ll end up where we need to be.
[Pic of the same trail during the day when I can actually see]