NOW PLAYING: BACK IN THE SADDLE AGAIN
Gene Autry/Riders in the Sky

I'm back in the saddle again
Out where a friend is a friend
Where the longhorn cattle feed
On the lowly jimson weed*
Back in the saddle again

BACK IN THE SADDLE AGAIN 14 JULY 2014
We had burgers and salad for dinner last night; chatted with the wranglers round the campfire till 9.00 p.m., then we all retired for the night. We have to be at the stable at 7.00 a.m. to meet our horses. Breakfast is at 8.00 a.m. We had another huge storm last night so again I've seen every hour on the clock. Six of the guests have been here eight or nine times; the others are all riders except for the man from my flight, but I suspect he will turn out to be very good at riding.  The horses were rounded up and brought to the corral by the stable. My name was called: "Meet Blueduck, your horse." I had to lead him up to the stable, tie him up, groom and saddle him. Wind that back to groom him. He is very tall. I said, "Could someone tell me what's wrong with this picture?" I could lift the saddle to hip height and it was not going any higher. But I could walk under him easily to do up straps, etc. Breakfast was very tasty and we have to be back at our horse by 9.30 a.m., so now I'm really nervous and regretting that second coffee. After breakfast we all had to lead our horses into the arena and a wrangler helped us mount up. I could not reach the stirrups, much to everyone's amusement. They decided I needed a different saddle, so we took Blueduck out to change saddles. The new saddle didn't fit the horse, so I had to change the horse as well.
	I now have Felix and a smaller saddle; my feet reach the stirrups. We went through house rules; stopping the horse was completly different from the way I was taught. Starting, walking round and weaving through cones. My confidence picked up a little as the morning progressed. We were taught one-handed reining; the other hand resting on your thigh or the saddle horn. It felt quite blasé but comfortable to ride like this. A bit like when you get the stabilisers off your bike for the first time.
After two hours my hips were complaining, so I decided to stop early for lunch. After lunch we went out to search for a missing calf. Sadly we could not find it. Again two hours was as much as I could cope with. I apologised for being a party pooper, but I felt I could not keep up with everyone and the pain in my muscles was invading every thought. I soaked in the hot tub, a little alcohol, a very nice dinner and the pain was gone . . . I'm ready to do it all again tomorrow.
We sat round the campfire after dinner swapping stories from the day's ride. I told them I'd had a few problems steering Felix; he kept trying to about turn. One of the wranglers was walking with me: "Don't tell him to go home," he said. "I didn't," I replied. Felix stopped again; I clicked at him and said, "Walk on." "There, you told him again." Then we realized it was my Scottish accent; when I say "walk on" the horse hears "go home".
There were many funny stories about people showing off, thinking they knew better and the horse dunking them in the pond. That is not going to happen to me cos I know my limitations. But I have to say the wranglers and guests have all been really great and go out of their way to help.
	*Information about Jimson Weed [Datura Stramonium] can be seen HERE

STILL IN THE SADDLE HERE