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June 8, 2018: Upsy Daisy

Yesterday, Pete ran into our friend Cathy Foxley at the supermarket. They both agreed that today we should do a ride in Cathy’s neighborhood. We were to meet her at 11 a.m. at her place.

I didn’t have the time to raise any objections. Nor did I have time to suggest that I ride Tinni. I was very quickly committed to riding Raudi. In the past, even with little time, I would have weaseled out of this. But I had told Pete that I need to ride more with other riders on unfamiliar trails.

Cathy is a great rider, calm, patient, level headed. And her two horses, Traveler and Trigger, are much the same. So off we went, at 10:30 a.m. this morning, over the river and through the woods.

Alys on Raudi & Cathy on Traveler: Maud-Plumly Trail

Cathy was saddled up and ready to go. It took us a while, but soon we were also ready. Cathy rode first, Pete on Hrimmi rode second, and I rode third. Within minutes we were big time toolie busting. Cathy knew where she was going, and there was blue flagging on the trees. Nevertheless, this was a daunting part of the ride.

To say that the terrain was uneven is an understatement. The horses had to wind their way through the brush and trees and step over gnarly, somewhat submerged roots, down trees, and stumps. And the horses in front of Raudi and I left holes for us to step into. And where there was running water, there were ledges the horses had to jump over and up. It was, I thought, the quintessential Forest Primeval.

Midway through the toolie bash, Raudi bucked once, hard. I went flying off her back, not quite over her head, but to the side. For a moment I thought my hip was broken. It then occurred to me that somehow, I’d need to get out of there and back to Cathy’s place, which would mean going back in time, through the toolies.

I decided to stand up and assess the situation. Once upright, I knew that all I had done on one side was tear my quadriceps muscle. And on the other, well, the jury is still out on this. My pelvis hurt and it was difficult to walk.

Pete pointed to a stump and I got back on the horse and continued with the rest of the ride. Thankfully, we were soon on a trashed four-wheeler trail, which is something that I am quite familiar with. My thought was that I had fallen once and most likely would not fall off again. This was in an odd way comforting, and gave me the confidence needed to do the rest of the ride.

And the rest of the ride was a lot of fun. For me, the high points were trotting Raudi on an ATV track that was not too rutted. She moved nicely, with energy, which put to rest my thought that her previous lackluster trot was due to an injury of some sort.

I got off the horse when we got back to Cathy’s, about 5 p.m. I then felt like I’d been run over by a truck. Now this feeling isn’t supposed to surface until day two, which means that I am really in for it. I am worried about my hip and pelvis. It’s 9 p.m. and I am going to bed. I am a happy hurting unit.

Next: 160. 6/9/18: Doing Less

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