The sickness

Social Circle, GA(Zone 8a)

Got this today! Got tight in the chest over it:

A Simple Statement.
>
> I ride. That seems like such a simple statement. However, as many
> Women who ride know, it is really a complicated matter. It has to do
> With power and empowerment. Being able to do things you might have
> Once considered out of reach or ability.
>
> I have considered this as I shovel manure, fill water barrels in the
> Cold rain, wait for the vet/farrier/electrician/hay delivery, change
> A tire on a horse trailer by the side of the freeway, or cool a
> Gelding out before getting down to the business of drinking a cold
> Beer after a long ride.
>
> The time, the money, the effort it takes to ride calls for
> Dedication. At least I call it dedication. Both my ex-husbands call
> It 'the sickness.' It's a sickness I've had since I was a small girl
> Bouncing my model horses and dreaming of the day I would ride a real
> Horse. Most of the women I ride with understand the meaning of 'the
> Sickness.' It's not a sport. It's not a hobby. It's what we do and,
> In some ways, who we are as women and human beings.
>
> I ride I hook up my trailer and load my gelding. I haul to some
> Trailhead somewhere, unload, saddle, whistle up my dog, and I ride. I
> Breathe in the air, watch the sunlight filter through the trees and
> Savor the movement of my horse. My shoulders relax. A smile rides my
> Sunscreen smeared face. I pull my ball cap down and let the real
> World fade into the tracks my horse leaves in the dust.
>
> Time slows. Flying insects buzz loudly, looking like fairies. My
> Gelding flicks his ears and moves down the trail. I can smell his
> Sweat and it is perfume to my senses. Time slows. The rhythm of the
> Walk and the movement of the leaves become my focus. My saddle creaks
> And the leather rein in my hand softens with the warmth.
>
> I consider the simple statement; I ride. I think of all I do because
> I ride. Climb granite slabs, wade into a freezing lake, race a friend
> Through the Manzanita all the while laughing and feeling my heart in
> My chest. Other days just the act of mounting and dismounting can be
> A real accomplishment. Still I ride. No matter how tired or how much
> My seat bones or any of the numerous horse related injuries hurt. I
> Ride. And I feel better for doing so.
>
> The beauty I've seen because I ride amazes me. I've ridden out to
> Find lakes that remain for the most part, unseen. Caves, dark and
> Cold beside rivers full and rolling are the scenes I see in my
> Dreams. The Granite Stairway at Echo Summit, bald eagles on the wing
> And bobcats on the prowl add to the empowerment and joy in my heart.
>
> I think of the people, mostly women, I've met. I consider how
> Competent they all are. Not a weenie amongst the bunch. We haul 40ft
> Rigs. We back into tight spaces without clipping a tree. We set up
> Camp. Tend the horses. We cook and keep safe. We understand and love
> Our companions, the horse. We respect each other and those we
> Encounter on the trail. We know that if you are out there riding, you
> Also shovel, fill, wait, and doctor. Your hands are a little rough
> And you travel without makeup or hair gel. You do without to afford
> The 'sickness' and probably, when you were a small girl, you bounced
> A model horse while you dreamed of riding a real one. Now you are
> There. I ride.
>
> --Author Unknown (although, many of us feel she is our sister)

This thread has 10 replies. This forum is accessible only to subscribing members of Dave's Garden. There are many free features here, and about half of our forums are completely open to all members. And learn more about Dave's Garden, and explore the benefits of becoming a subscribing member.

Want to join? Register here. Already signed up? Click here to login!

BACK TO TOP