For the very first time

I actually consider that there were two first times for me. I know, it can't be, but part one was soooo humiliating that I've sent that memory into oblivion and focused on "My very first time: The Sequel", which was much more constructive. Still, I am willing to briefly revisit part one, as I believe I may not be the only one to have been ridiculed by more seasoned riders the first time I saddled up.

It was not my idea actually. If I had remembered whose idea it was, he/she would have had a piece of my mind. But anyhow, about 15 years ago on a hot summer afternoon, I do remember some tourist ranch owner telling me, while handing me the reins of a large bay gelding, "Don't worry, he's good-tempered". I guess he must have wanted to reassure me, but in fact, he had just underlined the fact that horses actually have a temper. Oh really? Well, I mounted anyway. 

The horse graciously coped with the fact that I had to wiggle my way up to the saddle. Exit my vision of a graceful "swing-up & canter into the sunset" mount. I just praised whomever thought-up pommels and mounting blocks, grasping here and hopping there. When I finally succeeded and sat straight, I barely had time to assess just how high I was actually perched, grab the reins and off we went, with me and my very long-legged buddy closing the march.

If you've ever mounted a horse, you'll certainly remember how awkward it feels to have this thing move under you without having to push the pedal or the accelerator. Talk about losing control! You're not sitting on a moving couch either: the sway of the gait, even at slow walk, is a disconcerting sensation at first. Nevertheless, the scenery took my mind off my apprehension for a while and I let myself enjoy what I thought would be "a ride in the park".  

As my horse was nonchalantly following the others in the trail, I started to think there really was nothing to it. Misconception that I have since corrected. But after a while the trail abruptly stopped at a deep set river bank. Our guide suggested we cross the river to the other side then gave it a go. I wasn't too keen about having to manoeuvre my mount down that muddy slope but at that point, pride kept me silent as I watched his horse struggle, slide towards the water and painfully try to regain his balance at the bottom. Then "John Wayne" motioned at me: "Your turn, come on!"

Brain freeze. I was terrified. At that moment, I knew I'd rather be labelled as a "grade A coward" than sitting on a mud-skating horse falling towards a rocky river bed. So because of me - and in spite of everybody's pleas for courage - we turned around. Oh, the shame!

However, it seemed that everybody was disappointed except for my horse, who was secretly delighted to go back to the all-you-can-graze comfort of the farm. So as soon as we left the trail for an open field, he picked up the pace to a very energetic canter, moment at which I thought that going down that slope may not have been that bad after all. 

Not knowing how to follow the movement, I bounced like a leap-frog in the saddle, fervently praying I would not fall off. Again, exit my bucolic vision of unperturbedly riding the canter, hair blowing in the wind, sun sprinkling freckles on my nose. Nope, different story altogether. Our guide, worried that I might be in distress (praise the Lord for intuition) urged his horse to pass mine, turned around in his saddle then continued cantering sitting backwards - however that may be. Seeing that I was in no immediate danger, he delighted himself in the sight of me, jolted around and scared out of my wits, then bellowed a roaring laugh and yelled "Great Bronco style!" 

I was mortified.

15 years later, I still felt the pang of humiliation when my trainer told me we'd be trying to canter for the first time. But determination had the best of me on that day, and with proper supervision and instructions, I did it. No bouncing, no grasping, It's just the best feeling of all. 

So now, exit bronco style: every time Meeka and I pick up the canter, I'm the proudest most confident of riders. If you've ever a bad experience and decided horse riding was not for you, you might want reconsider. Riding as a tourist on a horse that is only trained to follow is NOT the same as actually taking riding lessons. Horse rides aimed at tourists can become quite upsetting should you ever feel like you're losing control, whereas riding lessons are an empowering confidence and moral booster like no other.  Try it, and let it be your idea.