A Shocking Turn of Events

In the mean time I was working for Ben exercising his horses and going to all of his polo matches, two per week. Every Wednesday and Sunday we would go out to the various polo venues and Ben ahd his partner Liam would play polo. It was very exciting and I was loving it. I groomed the horses, helped to load them onto the trailer and generally was an assistant to Rhonda, his barn manager. When ever she needed a day off I was there helping to feed the horses, turning them out and cleaning their stalls. I was learning how to care for a whole barn full of horses. I was really an apprentice, in exchange for nearly free board for Desi.

The life I was leading that summer was like a dream for me. I felt so lucky to be a part of the world of horses. Desi was coming along nicely and he was getting more fit since he was being ponied on a regular basis. Rhonda and I had decided that we would forego riding him until next spring. Maybe the time off would do him some good. I didn't want my weight to hurt his back, after all he was only two years old.

My schedule and work load at the barn was fairly intense and a bit tiring. One night I begged off from grooming the horses at one of the matches. I helped Rhonda get all of the horses ready, groomed and loaded onto the trailer and I headed for home for a quiet evening of rest.

At 5AM the next morning the phone rang. This was very early for a call, I thought. "Hello?"
"Uh, hello, Marilyn?"
"Yes..."
"This is Rhonda..."
"Yes, I recognize your voice, what's the matter? You sound very different."
"Well, Ben...(long pause)... he died last night." She sounded so upset, her voice was choking. It must have been a very long night for her.
"What? That's impossible, you must be joking."
"No, it's true."
"How did it happen?"
Rhonda explained "He was riding in the match and must have had a heart attack while he was on his horse. He leaned over and everyone thought he was just fixing his girth or making a tack adjustment or something. But he didn't sit back up. When they realized he was taking quite a long time, they went over to him, and he was already gone."
"Just like that, so quick?" I couldn't believe my ears.
"Yes, it was unbelievable"
"Oh, how terrible. I can't believe it."
"Yes, everyone at the match was so upset," said Rhonda.
"It's just so hard to believe. He was fine yesterday and now...gone. I can't believe it."
"Yes, but you know that's how he would have wanted it, he died on his horse with his boots on."
"I know, I know. If he had planned it that's what he would have wanted. It's so difficult to believe he's actually gone. What's going to happen to his horses, the barn and Liam, his partner?"
"I don't know but I suppose Liam will take over the barn and probably buy his horses, but I'm not sure."
Ben had greatly affected my life and now that he was gone I felt quite uncertain about the future with Desi. I hung up the phone and contemplated the influence that he had had on my life. I knew things would never be the same.

One Small Step for Desi....

I continued to lunge Desi and build up his muscles on a regular schedule. About three days after our initial ride Rhonda and I decided to try to saddle and ride him again. First we lunged him and then we saddled him and then we lunged him again. When we thought he was getting tired it was time to mount up for the second time. I was a little bit concerned that he would buck but he was a very quiet and accepting this time.

After I mounted up Rhonda led us around on the lead rope and I started to use my legs and a slight bit of contact on the bit. I was thinking that he was over and done with his bucking and that things would now progress with a steady forward momentum. Short sessions were the key, I concluded. His training was progressing. His relaxed attitude during our second session was a big relief.

The next time I came out to the barn to ride Desi, my husband Dave came with me. I was feeling very confidant now. So much so that I skipped the lunging this time and went right to the saddling. Dave held him and I got on. And with no warning on the very first step he bucked and groaned again like his first day's reaction. He tossed me into the air like a rag doll. I landed on the ground with a thud. I saw stars and couldn't get up. Desi came over and sniffed me while I lay on the ground.

He was probably thinking "What are you doing down there? Did I have anything to do with this? If so, I am sorry." He really looked apologetic. After the wind came back into my lungs and my head stopped spinning, Dave helped me get up.

"Dave, what did you see? What happened?"

"He looked upset or scared or something. I don't know. It was so sudden." We were both beginners in the horse training business and very vulnerable.

Dave helped me hobble back to the barn and we put Desi away. I had many questions and it seemed as though no one had any answers about his bucking. I did research, I asked experienced horse people and I consulted John Lyons, a big name horse whisperer. No one could say what caused his behavior. Or at least not until I met a woman from Ben's tack store named Louisa. She was intimately involved with another horse who reacted the same way with the saddle. She called it the cold back syndrome. The muscles on the horse's back really need to be warmed up before he could be ridden. So when he was lunged for a good long time and then saddled up he would walk off quietly, but if I was in a hurry, I could expect another trip into the air. His monstrous bucks were not something you could hang on for.

I also learned that it was a genetic condition that the mother passed on to her progeny. I learned that in some cases it was so severe that the horse could not ever be ridden. And then I remembered that Pete had mentioned that Desi's 3 year old sister, that we originally went out to see, probably had the same condition. Pete had mentioned that she liked to buck. I was disheartened. I needed to fix this problem and I would need a lot of patience and a lot of help. This was not a fortuitous beginning to my equestrian education.

Just a little Glitch

We trailered Desi to Ben's farm and put him in a stall right next to one of the polo ponies. Desi was nervous and a little anxious the first few days at Ben's farm because it was his first time away from his friends and family. He did not understand that this was the start of his new life as a riding horse. He didn't have to worry because he would have a very good friend in me and I was his new family. I went to visit him every day. He was brushed and curried and bathed and I even took him for walks on the lead rope, so he could get acquainted with his new surroundings. We practiced getting on and off a trailer. And we even ponied him out with the polo horses so he would start building up his muscles. The training was underway with Rhonda's help.

I also taught him to lunge and he became very good at listening to my voice and learning the four most important words in a horse's vocabulary. They were walk, trot, canter and halt. I had to be careful how I said each word. When I wanted him to walk I would always say AND walk, stretching out the word wa-aa-aa--aa--al--k and a final emphasis on the "k". The word "AND" taught him that something was about to change, so I also said AND trot, AND canter, AND halt. I started teaching him the words by calling out to him as he did the walk so it confirmed that he was, in fact walking. Then when he broke into the trot I would say AND trot.

After he heard me calling out the words and confirming what he was doing many times I then suggested to him the actions of the walk, the trot, the canter and the halt. If he wasn't responding I would shake the rope a bit so he would feel a vibration on the cavesson on his nose. When he responded with the appropriate action, I would call out. "Good boy, Desi"

Eventually he learned to do each of the gaits on command and I was very proud of him. We were learning together. What a smart horse I had bought! I thought I had made a very good choice! Good for me too!

Then Rhonda said it was time to start teaching him how to go under saddle. We first put a pad on him and shook it and rubbed it all over his body. I stood above him on Ben's mounting block in the middle of the ring. This was done so he wouldn't be afraid when I did get on him. Horses are naturally afraid of anything above them because they are prey animals. That is how they are genetically wired. There are many predator animals who would attack a horse from above by jumping down onto their backs and then the horse would run for its life. This type of reactive engineering has undoubtedly saved many horses. So when humans interfered and domesticated horses, some of the old wiring had to be retaught.

The horse can now be taught to accept someone higher than they are, once they understand it is a friend and not an enemy. While on the mounting block I rubbed his neck on both sides to calm him, talking to him the whole time. I would say "It's Okay, good boy, Desi, I'm your friend. I won't hurt you." Once he was relaxed about that it was time for the saddle. We gently put it on his back and tightened the girth. Desi just stood there with his eyes bulging out. He looked afraid to move. We started to walk him forward and just as he took his first step he exploded like a fire cracker up into the air with a very large buck. His head was down between his feet. As he did this he let out a huge groan, as if to say "Get this thing off me!". I scrambled out of the way.

"What was that?" I asked Rhonda.

"I don't know. I never saw anything like it before."

"Maybe he doesn't like the saddle." I countered.

We were both puzzled. But then we continued to walk him around and he settled into the walk and he seem relaxed, like nothing had happened.

We walked him over to the mounting block again. I picked up the reins and put my weight into one of the stirrups on the near side. I pressed down hard and held all of my weight in the stirrup. This time Desi gave no reaction. Then ever so gently I slipped my foot into the stirrup and swung my right foot over onto the other side, sat down very lightly and took a deep breathe. I was very careful not to kick him with my foot as I slid into the stirrups.

Then Rhonda led Desi and I around a bit and I dismounted. I wanted him to have a very pleasant first experience so we made the session quite short.

I did it. I rode my horse for the very first time. The only thing that worried me was the bucking, but I was hopeful that it was just a fluke reaction to the feeling of the saddle and that it would be a one time occurrence. I was very optimistic.

How Far Would a Dollar Go?

This turn of events really upset Pete. He knew the winter was coming and that he couldn't keep all of his horses. He had really counted on the sale of Desi not only to make ends meet but to alleviate the burden of so many unproductive horses and the work that they entailed. Now the reality of Desi being nearly unsalable also struck home. Pete looked totally dejected. He looked the way I felt.

We started to leave.

"Wait. Will you take him for a dollar?" He was desperate, but he had to sell some of his horses or they would all suffer.

"A dollar?" I was incredulous. "A dollar?" I repeated, just to be sure I heard him right. I looked at Rhonda and saw a little smirk. Then she gave me the nod which said go ahead, for a dollar we could deal with a little roaring.

I turned to Pete and said, "No, I can't take him for a dollar, but how about if you keep the deposit that I gave you and we will have a deal?"

He looked so relieved. Here was a small time breeder who really only wanted his horses to go to good homes. He barely broke even each year, but his was a lifestlye that he loved, so he kept at it. The money had never been the issue with him. He obviously put more into the horse than I had given him but he was very happy knowing his horse Desi would have a good and permanent home. I promised to keep in touch with him and told him he could even come for a visit if he wanted. It was a deal. Smiles all around. I was ecstatic. I just bought my first horse, "Faith in Destiny", his was a name to live by.

First impressions

Pete brought the young Thoroughbred out to the ring and attempted to lunge him. Desi thought he wanted to play, so he leap about and ran around trying to play the silly game. Pete wanted him to go in a circle and Desi would have no part of it.

I am sure that Desi thought this lunging and circling stuff was just ridiculous. I mean "What was the point of going around in circles anyhow? Straight lines are much easier and faster too." Desi was quite the clown and seemingly uncooperative, but his reaction was just indicative of a very green horse. We knew that.

I liked his playful attitude and I could tell that Rhonda liked him too. So we talked on the side. "Are you sure you want a horse you have to train? He is very green."

"Yes, yes, yes, I do. He looks like a lot of fun. As long as you are willing to help me train him, I really want him." I said.

"Sure, but you probably won't be able to ride him very much until next year. Is that still OK?"

"That's OK, I really like him. You can help me right?"

"Yes, said Rhonda, "We can train him together."

"OK, can we make an offer to Pete right now?" Then as was the custom we made the purchase contingent on a vet check to be sure he was healthy. We settled on a price and I told Pete I would have the vet out to check him as soon as possible. I gave him a modest deposit and we shook hands.

I was so ecstatic, a horse of my very own. I was having a hard time grasping the reality of what had just happened. I kept thinking how lucky I was to have found him. He was extremely handsome and he looked like he would mature to at least 16 hands which meant he would grow about 2 more inches. We were basing it on the size of his mother and father who were right there on the farm.

During the week before the vet check I went out to see Desi several times and I groomed him and handled him. I was getting to know him. To me he was a very special horse and I was falling in love with him.

Next week I had Ben's vet go out to check out my new horse. Dr. Washburn was a very experienced old fashioned country vet and always gave very sound, no frills advice. He was certainly to be trusted.

Pete had been calling his young horse Desi but I found out that his full registered name was "Faith in Destiny" and that is exactly how I felt about him. It was like it was meant to be. Desi was going to take me down a life path and he held the key to my future, with a name like that what else could it mean?

The veterinary exam started with checking Desi's eyes, then listening to his heart and watching him being lunged to see if he was sound. Then the doctor listened to his lungs and checked his breathing.

"Hmmmmm...he's very noisy, he sounds like he has a flap in his airway that doesn't close properly. He is what is known as a "roarer". And although it is not a problem for his health, he would be eliminated in shows because it is considered a defect. There is surgery which could be performed to close the flap but it is not always successful. It would cost about $2500."

And that was a huge sum to me and way more than I could afford. I couldn't afford to buy Desi and pay for an operation. Out of the question. I looked at Rhonda and she looked back at me, just shaking her head side to side then staring at the ground. I knew what that meant. She could sense the disappointment. I was heartbroken. I couldn't buy him. My destiny would have to wait.

Horse shopping time

Ben's barn manager Rhonda said she would help me find just the right horse. And I would be able to keep him at Ben's barn at no cost if I would pitch in and do a bit of barn work now and then. I was already grooming for the polo matches and exercising the horses and filling in for Rhonda on her days off. No additional work was really required. In fact, it hardly seemed like work at all and it was an offer I couldn't refuse.

And so we started horse shopping.

Rhonda and I had an agreement, the horse first had to meet with her approval and then I could consider it. Her standards were a lot more rigorous than mine. At that point in my equestrian education I would have bought on color or some other frivolous characteristic, so I deferred all of the initial queries and tough decisions to her. If she said "No good", even if I liked the horse, it was no good and crossed off our list. I wanted to be careful about this purchase. By this time realized I knew nothing about buying a horse and so we took our time. (See how smart I was getting?) She was very strict and had the power of the veto, this horse would have to be good for Rhonda to allow me to purchase it.

Then one day I found a small newspaper ad for a three year old mare and showed it to Rhonda. It sounded like a possibility so we made an appointment to see her. The horse was at a private barn in Hunterdon County. Up until that point we had seen a variety of horses. Some were too old, some were too big, some too small, some were lame and some just didn't have any spark for me at all. But this particular horse shopping day was the pivotal point in my horse life.

The owner Pete that advertised his young thoroughbred mare in the newspaper had only just begun her training. At his facility he had one stallion and a few mares. He bred a small number of horses each year to be used for pleasure, jumping or dressage. In no way did he want any of his horses going to the race track.

His mare was all bay with no markings but still an attractive animal and quite a nice mover. But when Pete revealed that she did like to buck that really turned me off. I admittedly was not a strong rider and Rhonda and I both thought we should keep looking.

But quite surreptitiously on our way out we asked did he have anything else for sale.
"No, not really, just her younger brother but I haven't done anything with him at all." Rhonda and I both looked at each other. "Well, since we are here, would it be possible to see him?"

"Sure, but you have to understand, he has done nothing. But just for the heck of it, I will show you."

That is when I saw Desi for the very first time. He was just under two years old, a bay thoroughbred with very long legs and a gangly narrow body. He looked very immature and since he was so young and barely worked he was very frisky. He had a remarkable white star on his forehead that went into a stripe down his nose and to a snip all the way at the bottom. He also had two white socks. He was quite flashy and very handsome. I liked him from the very start.

Becoming proactive

When the polo season was over that year I was feeling the lack of horses in my life. I had to become proactive with my equestrian education. What could I do to be involved with horses? I didn't want my riding career to be over with those couple of rides with Winnie and Ben.

Maybe I could get a job at Ben's upscale tack store. Thought that was a pretty good idea. But I was beginning to become more conscious of my incompetance. Remember stage two? I was thinking I probably didn't know enough about horses and equipment to be even considered as an applicants for a job at his very upscale tack store. This was a new concept for me. If some one were to ask "Where are the martingales?", for instance. I would probably think, "I didn't know there was a bird department here."

So that wouldn't work and I eliminated that idea. I was getting just a bit smarter about things.

Maybe I could take lessons? But I didn't know any place to go. I had no horsie friends who could direct me. But wait, I had heard there was a county stable that offered package deals in riding.

I would try that even though it smacked of The Blue HIlls Riding Stable days. I didn't care. At least it was something. And I was becoming proactive.

Over that first winter I took ten riding lessons and by the end of that season I was promoted from "Beginner I" to "Beginner II" at Lord Stirling Riding Stable! I was on my way and I felt pretty good about my standing and my new proactive state. Even though at the end of all those lessons the group was barely trotting. It was a very enjoyable group of women taking lessons there and they all were yearning to become riders, as I did. But not all of them were as serious as I.

In the spring of the following year I was in Ben's tack store and I very fortuitiuosly bumped into him.

"Are you going to come out and help me with my horses this year?" he asked.

I couldn't believe my ears. I am thinking, "Me? Why me?" I was a real beginner. That was confirmed at the Lord Stirling Riding Stable with my label of a mere "Beginner II", hadn't it? Now I knew it. I felt quite out of place as I looked around his upscale tack store and realized I was not an "A" circuit rider, a foxhunter, nor did I even own a broken down plow horse and keep it in my backyard. I was no one in the horse world.

What could he possibly want with me? But I guess my lack of skill as a rider didn't matter so much, I was willing and quite eager, (I definitely had that going for me) I had time on my hands since I had quit my job as an architect and that's all that really mattered to Ben. So I started to go out to his barn without Winnie. Afterall, Ben asked me! I didn't have to rely on her invitations anymore.

And that is when I began to really ride. I would excercise three or four horses per day and pony one along side, just so they would be in shape for the upcoming polo season. I learned how to clean a stall, to handle and feed a horse and how to really groom. Ben and his barn manager Rhonda were great teachers and I was like a sponge. When Ben was going to one of his polo matches each horse had to be in perfect shape with not a speck of dirt anywhere. I became a groom as well as an exercise rider.

Ben allowed me to ride any horse in the barn. There was Patti, a very pretty dark bay quarter horse and Bagel, a dun quarter horse, and Queenie and Petey and Rodney all bay thoroughbreds. And there was Mary, she was my favorite another bay thoroughbred. He and his partner Bob had ten horses and I secretly thought of them as my own. I was allowed to ride anyone of them nearly at anytime I wanted, I was so lucky! However I knew that my relationship with his horses was tentative because at any time he could sell one of them and where would I be then? What if he sold Mary? It could happen. The thought nagged at me.

That is when I started to think of getting my own horse. I realize now that it was a somewhat crazy thought. And it is something I would advise against now, given what I have learned about horse ownership over the years. I had a small nest egg which I intented to spend on the purchase of my very own horse. I would find out later that the purchase price was only a drop in the bucket compared to what the attending costs would be. Someone should have told me that my pockets needed to be deeper, much deeper than that little nest egg I was willing to splurge on my very own horse.This would be revealed to me in only a matter of time.

Scene from a Dicken's novel

Through the conversation I had with Winnie on the ride over to Ben's barn I was beginning to get an inkling of how little I actually knew about horses. (And so was she.)

This was a good sign because now I was moving out of the first stage of learning, the "unconscious incompetent" to the "conscious incompetent" stage. This was stage two. Now I was aware of how little I knew and it was a bit scary. I surely needed to know more about what I was doing but figured once I got there I could ask a few pertinent questions and be on my way.

However Winnie was now just becoming aware that my present riding ability was next to nil. I revealed to her and that it had been 30 years since I had been on a horse. She probably was having second thought about me and her decision to invite me in the first place. I am certain she was concerned about Ben's opinion of me and perhaps worried for Ben's horses. I doubt the thought that I could be hurt ever entered into her mind.

Ah, but it was too late (lucky for me) we were on our way and Ben was expecting two people, Winnie and her friend (that was me, for better or worse). She couldn't just stop by the side of the road and leave me there, now could she? I vowed to myself to try not to embarrass her but the thought that the name Whiny would have fit her better did occur to me.

Taking that first step into the lower level of Ben's barn was the beginning of the rest of my life and a second beginning on my quest for an equestrian education. This was after my two college credits in gym at the University of Massachusetts.

Outside was bright and sunny, not a cloud anywhere and inside was dark and a bit dank. It took some time to adjust to the lack of light and that now familiar horse smell. It was like perfume to me. But what I saw will always be etched in my memory.

There was a fairly long aisle with stalls on either side and two little wings that jutted out giving the footprint of the barn the shape of a backwards letter "F". There were about fourteen stalls, each one occupied by what I believed to be most magnificent animals. Horses, fourteen of them peering out as one walked by each stall! I had never seen so many beautiful horses all in one place before and I was truly awestruck.

But it wasn't just that there were 14 horses there but it was what was happening that intrigued me. Along the side of the aisle at nearly every stall were these long ropes, called cross ties upon which the horses stood attached by their halters and jamming the aisle. And underneath each of the horses was a farrier or a helper removing or applying horse shoes to each animal in turn. Bang, bang, bang, went the farrier's hammer on the iron shoe. Honestly it was like something out of a Dickens' novel. I couldn't believe my eyes. What a different world I found myself in. Only steps away was the bright sunshine and the mundane world out on the country road but inside here, a world apart. Not many would have pictured such a scene worthy of an eitheenth century artist rendering when driving by this old barn on the side of the road. To me it was surreal and indelible.

I did live by Winnie's advice she gave me on the way over after she was convinced of my ignorance, "Just pretend you know what you are doing" and Whiny thankfully did not have to apologize for me, not even once. I did a fairly good job of remaining unobtrusive.

We then took a couple of Ben's horses out and rode them up a rather steep incline to some hay fields up above the barn. When we got to the top we had a bird's eye view of the lush green valley below and the little town of Tewksbury in the distance. It was a glorious sight, a liberating experience and I felt quite close to heaven. We were then able to trot the horses around a bit on the hay fields and let them stretch out their legs. A few trips around the field (by this time I was feeling the burn, due to the lack of recent riding experience but it was a good kind of pain) and then we walked them back down the hill to the barn.

I survived the first day without falling off. It was quite an achievement given my past history. I was ecstatic. I loved it and couldn't wait for the next time.

A few weeks later Winnie invited me to exercise Ben's horses again. I am only guessing that I impressed her with my skill as a rider. This time there were a few other people in the group as well as Ben's dog Petunia, a very quick and lively Jack Russell. She ran through the tall grass in leaps and bounds and never was left behind. She was as quick as the horses, racing along side or even running between their legs.

On this occasion the other riders were each astride one horse and with just a lead rope and a halter they were bringing along a second horse. This arrangement of two horses and only one person was called "ponying". Ben did not have enough riders for all of the horses to be ridden that day. He liked to exercise each horse as often as he had riders in order to be fit for the polo matches which were twice a week in the summer and early fall.

Winnie invited me a couple more times that season and I was hooked forever to the horses. My horse gene had been awakened and even a light slumber was defintely out of the question anymore. I was on my quest to an equestrian education and didn't even know it.

The first day of the rest of my life

The first time I went to Ben's barn with my friend was an eye opening experience for me. I was instructed by my friend Winny (a little pun, not really intended, but Oh well...) to look and act nonchalant. She didn' want Ben to know how inexperienced I was. This would be a piece of cake. Nonchalant was my new middle name on account of me being such a good rider.

The barn was really old and it was set literally on the edge of the road. And from there the property sloped off rather quickly down to a stream way below. There were remnants of an old riding ring and three rather worn out pastures where the horses grazed. The grass in the pastures was never seeded or fertilized, manure was never picked up and it was very stoney to boot. In the middle of the practice ring sat Ben's practice horse made out of plastic which he used for his students of polo.

The main floor of the barn was used for hay storage and in the ceiling were enormous hand hewn and pegged beams. This was a very old barn but well designed. The main floor was at grade level in the front and a hay wagon could drive right in directly off the street. A hatch in the floor allowed hay to be dropped to the level below where the horses had their stalls. A very convenient design. The foundation walls were made out of stone and they kept the barn rather cool in the summer and warm in the winter. But it was also very dark on the floor where the horses were kept.

As you entered the lower level a sweet sort of smell wafted in the air. It was the horse smell and you either loved it or you couldn't stand it. Those with the horse gene believe it is perfume. All others, well, you know who you are and I can't explain it to you.

If you enjoyed that smell that was your calling card for entry into the society of the horse lovers or if it was offensive to you then you were an outsider and you would neither have the desire to enter nor understand those that do.

After the fall contined

My running friend had grown up with horses. Her mother was a trainer and she herself had done extensive showing as a child so she was not unfamiliar with riding. I, on the other hand just believed that I could ride, so quite happily and quite stupidly I suppose, went along for the ride out to her friend's barn.

That is where I met Ben, a sort of wizened looking, cigarette smoking and horse intense older gentleman. Now here was experience with horses in the flesh I was soon to find out. He looked like an old cowboy, kind of rough and tumble but with a heart of gold. He was the owner of the very upscale local tack store and was the driving force for polo in the county. He and a friend owned a string of horses (which in the polo world they are called ponies) that required exercise every day to maintain their fitness for the rigors of the game.

Ben had a ring below the barn in which he taught his students the game of polo. There in the middle of the ring was a sort of dummy horse which was elevated to simulate the size and height of one of the ponies. His students would sit up on it with their polo mallet and he would chuck them balls which they would attempt to hit back to Ben.

As far as exercise riders were concerned however, you didn't really have to know anything, except how to stay on. There was no qualifying test to see if you were good enough. Just have the time and the desire to ride and you were a shoe in. This was a perfect fit for me because I had all the necessary requirements. I had recently left my job as an architect so I had time and I certainly had the desire. My lifelong dream had come true, no more Blue Hills Riding Stable horses, no more gym classes for me. I was wanted and needed and I knew how to ride.

My horse gene was really kicking in now.

After the fall (from grace)

My life somehow progressed forward without horses for awhile. I was a freshman in college away from home with plenty of distractions. And unfortunately horses wasn't one of them.

But then I discovered that I could earn college credits for learning how to ride. At the University of Massachusetts someone had actually thought that riding horses was worthy of being labeled a sport and considered exercise (which actually would burn calories), and included it in the curriculum for physical education. Just think of that! Needless to say I immediately signed up for 2 college physical education credits in the fine equestrian art. My future was sealed, I would learn how to ride.

These riding gym classes and 2 college credits which I earned were later to give me the impression that I really did indeed know how to ride (back to the unconscious incompetent person that I really was) when more than 30 years later, a running buddy of mine called and asked did I know how to ride. The answer was a resounding yes!!

She had a friend who owned a string of polo ponies who needed exercise riders. Would I like to join her and help to ride them? This was definitely too good to be true. You can only imagine how high I jumped at that chance to ride again.

After my first indelible ride at the Blue Hills Riding Stable I had no other opportunities to ride a horse for quite some time. I finished high school and went off to college. And, completely as a bonus, that is where I got my second chance to ride.

In those days the University of Massachusetts was considered an agricultural school. And right there on campus was a barn loaded with horses. I was in luck! Naturally I had to check it out and what I found was a stable full of the most beautiful horses I had ever seen. There was no comparison to the Blue Hills Riding Stable horses. (No offense to hack horses) These were fine animals, pure bred Morgans that were being bred right there on campus. And to top it all off there was a riding club which anyone could join. Which I quickly did. What a gift, second time, heaven sent.

I had experience, right? I had ridden. I was later to find out that I was what one called "unconscious incompetant" on the learning curve. Hey, no matter, I was there, I was being offered the chance to ride and it was FREE! What could be better? I was joining the ranks of the horse world. Life was good. But I was totally clueless and I didn't even know it-- that's the unconscious part. So let me get on with my riding.

First day out was a disaster. I remember the mare that I rode was very shiny and she had recently foaled, so probalby hadn't been ridden in quite some time. No problem for me. I was a rider. And I was young, nothing bothered me. Off we went for a little stroll. We walked a bit and that was pretty boring, so we stepped up the pace into the trot. And I am thinking, this does not feel like the horses at the Blue Hills Riding Stable and the next thing I know, I am on the ground. That is when the girl I was with confirmed her doubts about my experience.

But for me, no problem, I hop back up and we ride off again, with me firmly planted in the saddle this time. We rode around a bit more and I was finally getting used to all the bouncing, which later I learned was called posting. It seemed pretty straight forward, up, down, up, down. (with the emphasis on down)

OK, so I am not the best rider, I still had a good time. In fact, it was such a good time that I suggested we come back in the afternoon for another ride. This time I was determined to stay on and not make a fool of myself, but it was not to be. It seems that the necks of those beautiful animals were extremely slippery. (Maybe it was because they were groomed. perhaps?) And I just did not quite have the knack of it so off I went again.

No problem, I still was not daunted, the ground accepted me very willingly and the horse just stood there as I took my second tumble. Back up again, as I thought to myself, at least I am learning how to mount up from the ground.

So for a little change of scenery we found ourselves on the newly groomed baseball diamond and thought it would be fun to run the bases. Oh, big mistake, because we left telltale tracks that only we could have made. Not good. As a result I was asked to drop out of my new most favorite club and to forget about riding for awhile.

What are you waiting for?

Have you ever run like a horse?

I remember as a little girl running like a horse on my way to school and I often wondered why. Not then, of course, only in recent years has this question begged an answer. And this is the reason I have started my blog. I seriously believe there is a horse gene. For those of you reading this blog who have "it" you will understand. For all the others, don't go any further, this won't make any sense to you....

I used to dream about having a horse of my very own.
(Have you ever yearned for something you thought was unattainable? I am telling you to keep on dreaming.) But I came from a very large family and riding a horse, let alone owning one, was out of the question. So the next closest thing I could do was to draw horses. I got a book from the library and started to draw, and draw and draw. And plaster the pictures all over my bedroom walls. I wanted a horse so bad I even dreamt about them.

I never even sat on a horse until I was a teenager. I convinced some of my friends to go for a ride at the Blue Hills Riding Stable in Milton, Massachusetts and using my own hard earned baby sitting money took my very first ride. I enjoyed every minute of that ride. I was in heaven. Little did I know how life altering that first ride would be. Who knew where I was headed with that first ride?

Fast forward fifty years . Today I am a horse owner, no I don't just own one horse but over twenty! (I somehow am not able to do things in a small way.) And have a riding school teaching the sport that I love to children and adults. I like to think that I am fulfilling their dreams and getting them on the road to bigger things.

My husband and I own a horse farm in New Jersey in one of the remaining semi-rural counties of the state. In fact, the horse is the state animal even though we are more known for oil refineries and are the most populous state in the country. But where we are located there are many horses. Our part of the world is often referred to as "horse country". Two minutes away from the farm and we are in the woods with not a car or a house in sight. Just the quiet of the woods, maybe a squirrel or a rabbit hopping across the trail, a canopy of mixed trees above and lots and lots of ferns on the forest floor. Just me and my horse, running through the woods. It is a world apart from the busy life with which most of our neighbors are involved. It's a wonderful life.

My other reason for writing a blog is that I am worried that our lifestyle will not be here in the future and I wanted to record a year in our life so others could vicariously be a part of this dying lifestyle. Maybe you will help to perpetuate it somehow?

I will fill you in on how we started our business and keep you posted with the day to day activities, the horse stories, some of the wonderful people that we have met, the trials and the labor, and the not so glamourous, down right dirty jobs that are involved with our horse world. Hopefully it will be somewhat fascinating, a bit entertaining and perhaps eye opening but always encouraging for you and your dreams. If you too dream of horses, maybe you have the horse gene. Don't let it be dormant, go make your dreams come true. If I did, so could you. Here's how it all happened.