...I used to be crazy about horses. They were all I could think of. Every week I was allowed an hour ride at a local stable that also boarded horses for people that were lucky enough to have one (two hours for my birthday). I learned to be a half-way decent rider, and my "dream" one day was to actually barrel race in the rodeo (go ahead and laugh).

...finally, one day, one of my dreams came true. I was going to get my very own horse. My dad drove us to Peoria, where someone had a mare for sale. She was at least seventeen hands tall...a palomino, half quarter horse and half thoroughbred. She was gorgeous. I remember when the owner lead her out, saddled and bridled for me to ride, I was grinning from ear to ear. I couldn't wait to ride her. As I pulled myself up and into the saddle, the man who held her told me he raced her a lot in the past.

...so she could run! It didn't matter if she'd won or not (I don't even remember if he said that she had), she liked to run and she was going to be mine. Images of all these days out in the countryside with my horse, running like the wind...the song "Wildfire" came to mind...that's what I'd call her...Wildfire...(um...sorry, I couldn't resist).

...she was obviously wanting to go right then. I could feel her tense as I sat down, taking the reins in my hands and making sure my feet were in the stirrups.
The bridle that controlled this animal was not what I was used to. It was a hackmore (sp), which is a normal leather headpiece, but instead of a bit in the horse's mouth, a thick strap of leather lies over the nose, just above the nostrils. You pull back and it restricts the air that the horse needs. It's gentler for the animal...no metal bit in the mouth.

...the man told me to hold her...asked if I was ready...I said yes...and told me she hadn't been ridden in over a month.

...and released his hold on the reins.

...it wasn't quite a bolt, but she did start out at a pretty fast clip...it took everything I had to hold her back. She broke into a gallop, but I was able to hold her enough to keep her from a full run.

...God this was great! This horse was going to be mine...she was beautiful...and I could only imagine...how cool...I was at that moment...

SNAP!! I didn't hear it, I felt it...something gave...and she took off at a dead run.

...the driveway that lead to the place we went to was a few hundred feet from the road. That road lead up and around a bend to the main road into Peoria...a busy two lane highway.

...the horse formerly known as Wildfire shot up the drive and to the right, crossing the road in front of an oncoming car. I remember very well the look on the driver's face when we flew in front of him. He barely missed us, and now I could hear the clop clop clop of the horse's hooves on the pavement as he swerved and she ran. I always loved that sound, but at this moment it terrified me. We were headed straight for the highway.

...my mind was racing (no pun intended), trying to figure out what I was going to do. The turn in the road was coming up, and I had no idea if another car was coming. Plus the fact that if I did avoid an oncoming vehicle here, chances were that the busier highway ahead would definately be the end of both of us.

...no cars yet, but the turn was coming. I was pretty sure I was going to die soon. I held onto the saddle horn, and even tho the reins were useless, those too. I felt more than saw the mare slow down, just slightly, as she approached the turn. I leaned to the left with her as she followed the curve of the road, running so fast it soon seemed we were almost parallel to the ground.

...it all happened...automatically. I don't remember thinking I should do it...I just did.

...she fell...on her left side...and I pulled my leg out of the stirrup and rolled off her back. If it hurt, I don't remember. The horse scrambled up on her feet and, wouldn't you know it, decided that was the time to slow down. The owner and my dad were running up the road towards us, as I stood up and shook the gravel and dirt off, and she took off back towards home. Said owner was able to grab the reins and hold her, asking me if I was alright. I assured him I was, and told my dad I'd pass on the horse.

...I realize now that was a mistake. It turned out one of the reins broke...I had no control whatsoever over that mare. I should have taken her. I think I realized I wasn't as good a rider as I thought. She was spirited...but she scared the hell out of me.
posted by Wanting at 8:08 PM