A first ride story (long)

[jlong@mti.net (Joe Long)]

Some recent exchanges on Ridecamp have inspired me to write the story
of my first-ever LD ride (and Kahlil's first, too).  Jim Barnett tells
it better than I do, but I don't know how to contact him by e-mail.
So here goes.

Kahlil and I trailered into the Natchez Trace ride in Natchez-Trace
State Park, Tennesee, in September 1978.  We were both green as grass.
He was a late four-year-old, with only minimal conditioning at that
point.  Neither of us had gone more than about ten or twelve miles at
one time before.  I had an old western saddle that was too small for
my butt, and was using a copper-mouth snaffle bit.

The morning of the ride I got ready to start, including tying a heavy
lead rope and halter onto the back of the saddle -- in case we had to
stop and rest somewhere along the way (I said I was green!).  While we
milled around waiting for the start, the lead rope came undone and the
bull snap began popping Kahlil on the flank.  He promptly bucked me
off in front of God and everybody.  I ditched the halter and lead rope
and remounted in time for the "shotgun start."  OHMIGOD!!!!!!!!!!!!

Kahlil made chase at a full gallop, a total runaway, through the ditch
where one rider had already fallen, into the woods trail.  There was
no slowing him down.  I was never more terrified before or since; I
thought I was gonna die.

We came out onto a gravel road, and I was pulling so hard that the bit
broke in two.  Now I had no hope -- I was sure I was gonna die.

Luckily, the trail turned back into the woods but Kahlil didn't see
the other horses turn.  Once he'd run by and there were no other
horses in sight, he slowed and I was able to jump off and hold him.

I started walking back to camp, dejected that my first ride had ended
in failure in the first mile.  Another rider coming by stopped and
suggested that I run my braided reins through Kahlil's mouth in lieue
of a bit, and continue.  He'd calmed down by then, so we spent a few
minutes rigging the reins and then we went on.

I tended to just trot and lope along.  I'd catch up with a rider or
two, holler out "Wow!  This is great!" and then move on by.  At the
vet check I was all over the vet -- "Is he OK?  Am I going too fast?
Is he OK?"  I borrowed a snaffle bit (that was about an inch too big)
and put it in my bridle.

Back on the trail ... again just trotting and loping along, without a
clue.  Catch some riders, chat with them, then move on.  A rider told
me about a ride in Mississippi coming up.  He said "It's an elevator
ride."  I didn't know what he was talking about -- I thought he meant
the trail was up and down, up and down, like the Natchez-Trace.

Then, the finish line.  We'd made it!   I asked how many riders had
finished ahead of me -- what a shock when they said "None, you're the
first!"

Now, that just shows how green I was.  The worst thing you can do for
a young, green horse is to ride like that and finish first place.  I
was incredibly lucky that Kahlil was so tough, that it caused no
permanent damage.

I was disappointed when the awards were given out.  No mention of my
first place, and the award just said "completed."  Nothing about place
at all.  Later, of course, I learned the reasons for it.

As I watched the front-running fifty mile riders race in, with a
riding time under four hours, I thought "Wow!  That's amazing!  I'll
never be able to do that!!"  But I was wrong, and Kahlil and I went on
to "do that" many times.  But for all the wonderful memories over the
years, so many friends, so many trails, that first Natchez Trace 25
will always be among the best.

-- 

Joe Long
jlong@mti.net
http://www.mti.net     Business
http://www.rnbw.com    Personal


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