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We arrived at 6:30 a.m., tacked up and were ready to go; until, we saw
the large, clanking cart with several people inside pulled by two
mules. Anna has never seen such a sight and soon let me know this was
not okay and that those horse's ears were not right. Style was a mite
unsettled too but we moved on through the residential area, through the
gate toward our dreamy goal and, viola', there was the ocean in all its
early morning majesty.
Anna reacted to the majesty by doing several Lippazzan type lavades;
translation "that is way too much water, no, I am not going near it and
don't even think about asking me to go across it". Style alternated
between shying and refusing to look at the water; translation, "if I
don't see it, it's not there". After a shaky start, we made our way
mincingly down the beach, Style with his head averted so as not to gaze
upon the feared water and Anna moving forward in a sideways U so as not
to get any wet sand on her pretty little feet.
Everything was fine until Mr. Showoff comes galloping full thrust
splashing through the dreaded water straight at us. After mumbling
several unspeakable words and considering doing the rider bodily harm,
Mary and I put our horses back together again. Then more pleasant times
of trotting and even cantering down the beach. Ahhhh.... Dream
moments.
Then came the mule drawn cart. The mules were galloping for all they
were worth, clanking away and the driver is Yee Hawing, whip in hand
like something out of a B-rated western movie. Being trapped between
the up -coming cart from the pit and endless amounts of water, on wet
sand was more than poor Anna could take. It took quite some time to put
her together again. By that time, many horses had passed us and Anna
does not like to be left behind. However, she has learned, finally,
that bolting, jigging and misbehaving will get her nowhere so she
proceeded forward in a wound-too-tight walk. At this point, I gladly
accepted this. Style the police horse, meanwhile, is rearing and
pivoting because of a brightly colored beach umbrella and equine eating
lounge chairs.
Past this obstacle, Anna and Style actually approach the water (do not
touch it, of course). This is another wind in your hair (or through the
vents in my helmet) kind of moment. The water is glistening and the sun
is shining.
Soon the ride is over and Anna gratefully exits the beach, Style along
side. We arrive back at the trailer and I fight a real urge to kiss old
terra firma, glad to be back on my feet and alive. It was
exhilarating. I may even try it again...
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