I decided today that I won’t be able to reclaim my horsey life at this year’s Alaska State Fair. Instead, I must be proactive.

I went back and forth between the horse arena and the Hitchin’ Post cabin. I made friends with a family in the book project space – two little girls were riding a horse named Kevin, from Nebraska. They were in the company of their grandmother. So I watched a class the youngest was in, providing commentary to the grandmother as the eight horses in this, a Western Equitation class, went through their paces. I was surprised that my comments were as astute as they were.

One of the horses was a chestnut Icelandic mare, Kesy. I noticed that she of course was a five-gate horse in a three gaited horse class. Hard to say if the Kesy’s tolting instead of trotting counted against her.

The final placements were not made known until later in the day. This did seem odd to me.

I called it good after this class and went back to the cabin, and I was stopped dead in my tracks by a black Icelandic horse with white on his face. For a split second I thought it was Tinni. Then I realized that it was Stjarni, a horse that truly was a blast from my past.

The rider and her mother were waiting for her to go into her class, which was in the main arena. I think the mother thought I was crackers because I told her all about Tinni and what I knew about her daughter’s horse. When the horse and rider entered the arena, I went and got Pete and we watched the first part of the class. Pete noted that Stjarni was smaller than Tinni and that he might have some lameness going on.

Pete then left and I watched the rest of the class. It would be a far better world if all the horses and riders got blue ribbons.

Later, I watched the barrel racing but left in disgust because the riders were not wearing helmets.

What I realized was this – I am in this, the horse show world, an outsider. I can simply spectate – and if, say, I say anything to anyone, I am just a strange person and nothing more.

I would like for a serendipitous occurrence. There have been a lot of them in my book life, but none in my horse life.

Or maybe I just need to be more proactive. Less time on the book project, in this respect will be a good thing. Hard to say. I keep telling my own horses to be patient. All things in their time.

Next: 226. 8/23/26: Surfing the Wave