full contact sport

People who do not ride, or who have only casually done a vacation trail ride, will not quite understand. But this is not an easy sport, to be taken lightly. As I was reminded of on my last ride, when my lovely forest view between bay ears suddenly became a view from ground level underneath my horse!

The ride started out casually enough. I was headed maybe into the forest, maybe to the lake, maybe just around? It all depended on how fast it got hot. No set plans. So I headed on out on a nicely walking Major, across the newly-blacktopped (Major thought it a little suspicious) road, and into the forest.

The poison-oak is dull red or dried up already, the buckeye have shed all leaves, and it looks like the inside of an oven out there. But the drought-resistant oaks still shade the trails, though their branches hang lower every day. And I ducked to go under one…and then WHAM, was on the ground under my horse.

Best guess it that the branch grabbed my helmet vent and held me back while Major kept going. I, of course, landed in the tiny sticky burrs, reins still in my hand, and Major looking down at me "What the hell just happened!?"

I dusted myself off and walked a bit. I was mostly none the worse for wear except for the burrs embedded in my arm, and covering my tights. I praised Major for immediately stopping, not stepping on me as I lay underneath him, and mainly just acting like his rider is an idiot (this time, yes!). I'll take that any day, good boy!

view of Folsom lake pond

So I let Major choose what to do for the rest of the ride (within reason). I like to see what trails he picks, which way we come home, what obscure way he will go. We trotted and galloped all over, he took this turn and that, and we ended up down by the lake for a bit, and also on the upper trails. It was a fun fast ride, though I was feeling some stiffness by the time we turned around about six miles into the ride.

Avery Pond looks nice but low. A deer and egret are both in the shallows!

The mighty sad American river flowing into Folsom

It's hot, can we go home now?

shaded blackberry trail

But back home we went, in sync around curves and turns and over rocks. There were a few other decapitating trees I ducked WAY under and a few stabby branches I leaned to avoid. The last bit though the meadow we were doing a nice canter, when a deer jumped out from the right. Major took one step left (oh, what was that!) then one step back to the right (just a deer) all at full flight. I stayed on and did not end up in the star thistle plants, thank goodness!

slightly suspicious new stumps

down the rocks

It just takes a moment in time for this leisure activity to become a full contact sport. This is not your fairground pony ride…

I am so handsome, thanks for washing the trailer so I can see myself!