So You Want To Be A Cowgirl

In spite of the most recent attempts by some to turn the world into a roaring furnace from hell, I am home from Yellowstone safe and sound, minus some shampoo. My hair doesn't look so good, but I am great otherwise.

We had fun celebrating a significant birthday of two of our crew, spending a week in the Grand Tetons, hiking, touring the river, and riding horses.

The horse riding was certainly not my idea, but my girlfriend fancys herself a cowgirl, and she's stuck by me for 25 years. I was obliged. Besides, I figured if I could white water raft for the first time so successfully, (meaning I didn't die and I actually enjoyed it) I could certainly ride a horse for the first time, too.

I may have been wrong about this.

We got ready for this adventure the night before by making and decorating our own individual straw stetsons. These were thoughtfully provided by the birthday girl, along with various decorative flowers, beads and birds.

A bottle of wine, a hot glue gun and several blistered fingers later, we had the proper Western attire in which to ride horses. We really looked authentic. I'm only telling this because it will turn up in the pictures.

These hats will go down in history along with the cat eye rhinestone sunglasses that we wore everywhere on our last trip.

The next morning we got up early and drove for 45 minutes to the horse ranch, which turned out to be a big corral of dozens of horses, millions of pine trees and one smelly outhouse. The young Italian cowboy in chaps was the best thing for miles around.

The lady who took our money remarked on our straw cowgirl hats.
Another cowboy, an older man with a real hat, walked up leading one of our horses. The lady introduced us and pointed out our hats. Not that you could miss them.

"Look at the hats these ladies made! Aren't they just so cute?" she asked him.

He squinted a look over at Sandi, who had put her bird on the crown of the hat.

"A little birdie", he drawled as he cinched the saddle tighter on her horse.

It turned out that he was the Trail Boss.

"Line up ladies " he said, standing in front of a step that we would use for mounting the horses. He inspected us with a practiced eye.

"Okay, you there, " he said pointing to one of us. " You come here and ride on ol' Chico. Next, I think you should get over here on Half and Half", he said pointing to another. "And you, say hello to Jess."


That left me with a small horse called M&M. From the first minute she was led up to the step, she didn't look happy, kind of tossing her head and trying to look back at the coral. She was supposed to be a good horse for inexperienced riders, or so they said. I tried to tell them I was worse than inexperienced, if this were possible. I don't think they were listening.

The cute Italian held the lead rope while I got up in the saddle, trying to look more confident than I felt.

We took off, following Trail Boss. Within minutes, there was trouble.

The horses didn't seem to like their positions and began jockeying around to try to get the right pecking order.

My horse kept trying to get in front of another horse, and this didn't go over well. Chico and Half &Half tried to block her from moving up in line and suddenly I was in the middle of horses turning around and around in tight circles. Then my horse laid her ears back and began kicking. Our relationship was not going well.

Somehow, I managed to separate her from this cluster, but then she turned and started heading back to the corral. I did everything I was supposed to to turn her around, following all directions being yelled at me by the guide and girlfriends, but M&M just kept heading for the barn.

"Turn her around!" Trail Boss yelled.

"Pull on the reins!" Girlfriends yelled.

"It isn't working", I yelled.

I figured she knew way more about this deal than I did, and I wasn't about to try to exert my will on this big, breathing creature. So I just waved over my shoulder and let her go. I thought I would just calmly ride her, grateful she wasn't running, unitl we got back to the Italian muchacho and I would wait for a couple of hours while my friends enjoyed their rides. Maybe he and I could pass a pleasant two hours enjoying the scenery.

This was not to be. The trail boss came back and in thinly disguised disgust, took the lead rope and said he would just guide her for a while. She would be all right. She! What about me?

With lead rope firmly in hand, we set off down the trail again, me in the humiliating positon of being lead while he kept up a low, tuneless whistle, riding a mule named Sam.

My girlfriends were about to choke to death from trying not to laugh.

I got back a little of my pride when he explained that M&M didn't ususally go with this group of horses and she wanted to be with her ususal posse. She didn't like these other horse companions and that was why she was so fussy.

"Horses are very social animals", he said.

Well I knew that! I read Seabiscuit.

This whole concept of sitting on top of another being with a will and a brain, although small, was disconcerting. It didn't seem much different to me than approaching a stranger on the street, throwing my arms and a rope around them and wrestling with them down the sidewalk while they huffed and puffed and made a few attempts to get control of the situation.

It's almost intimate, without an introduction or a getting to know you period. I could feel her huge barrel ribs under my knees move in and out with each breath. When she started sneezing from all the dust Sam the Mule kicked up in front of her, I felt sorry for her. When it got hot, she got all sweaty. And let's don't even talk about a horse's sense of bathroom privacy. There isn't any.

I tried to relax and just go with the experience. After all, it was Wyoming in the Grand Tetons. We went along through the forest, then open meadows and across little streams, all under the bluest sky, the air so thick with the scent of pine it almost burned when you inhaled.
A Western fantasy come true.

Then we started going up and down hills.

The first incline we approached struck fear in my heart. It didn't matter that I was being led, or that the other girls seemed to be doing just fine. I had visions of this cranky horse deciding rope or no rope, she wasn't going. Then she would raise up like those sillohettes you see on every Western thing , front hooves pawing the air while someone is holding on for fear of permanent paralysis.

We went up the hill and down the hill. . We clambered our way to the top of a mountain , little rocks and pebbles falling down the side of the hill with almost every step. I never got used to it.

But at the top of the mountain, we were rewarded with breath taking views of the valley below. The vista stretched out for miles, full of blue sky, pine trees, and the Snake river shining in the sun, winding along like liquid mercury spilled on the valley floor.

We had a photo op, and then started down. Trail Boss told me he didn't need to lead M&M anymore. Now that we were headed home, she would agree with me about where we should go. To complete my humiliation, one of my friends asked me if I had enjoyed my pony ride.

The trail down the mountain was steep and narrow, barely wider than the horse's hooves. Every time a hoof slipped, or a equine head tossed, or a squeal from a girlfriend rent the air, I knew it was my last moment on earth.

I tried to put myself into the moment, thinking about what it must have been like to depend on animals for transportation and companionship. I never could forget that I was sitting on top of a powerful mass of muscles and I had no steering wheel. I could have walked the ten miles back to the barn far, far more easily than I could ride it. Even if it was bear country.

That was another thing I was sure was going to kill us all, a bear popping out of the trees and spooking the horses.

Then we came to the river crossing.

Up until this moment, my horse had followed along behind Sam the Mule like a dutiful wife keeping 3 paces behind. But the minute she stepped into the river, she started off in another direction, straight to the only pool of deep water around.

She started pawing one leg in a swimming like motion, splashing water and shaking her mane. The girls called out, "what is she doing?" while their horses forded the stream with no deviation from plan.

In one of the few moments of horsewomanship I showed that day, I guided M&M back to her spot behind the leader. Trail Boss told me that she had been preparing to swim, and at the next crossing, to pull back on the reins and keep her head up.

Surprisingly, those moments in the water were the only ones all day when I wasn't afraid. At least if I went down, I would be cushioned by water.

The rest of the ride was relatively calm. We crossed a few more creeks, that while picturesque, provided other potential swimming opportunites.

We saw no bears or rattlesnakes, just brush that whipped us in the face and stripped feet from stirrups.

We went back for dropped sunglasses and shirts, and I managed to make M&M stand still and not follow Sam the Mule back into those tight little twirling horse circles.

Soon we were almost back to the starting point of this adventure. As we came alongside the coral with all the other horses, M&M started trying to trot, whinying and tossing her head. It was all I could do to hold her back. She wasn't slowing down or following anyone anymore. Trail Boss tried to manuever Sam in front of her, and this rammed my knee right into an indelicate place. Sam didn't seem to notice.

M&M went right past where the other girls were pulling their horses up to a fence and headed straight for the step, circling it several times. Clearly she wanted me to get. off. her .back.now!

The Boss came up and grabbed her rope again, stopped her long enough for me to get down, and explained she was ready to get back to her companions.

On safe and solid ground, I felt like someone and put an I beam between my knees, and it was only the sight of one of the other girls walking up to me with both her knees bent like someone had right angled them with a speed square that restored my good humor.

Am I glad I did this? Yes and no. Yes because it's always good to face your fears. It's good to try something new. It's good to make a fool of yourself and stay humble. No because two hours of fear stresses your immune system and all your heart valves. No because it is just weird to sit on somebody you don't know, and pull their head around to make them do what you want.

But yes and yes and yes again because it's always good to show up for a friend.