I Kill You!!!

Haven't ridden Quzqo very much these past few weeks, it's been too frickin' HOT, and one thing I've found as I get older; discomfort isn't all that it's cracked up to be. Sweating to death in blue jeans and leather boots while sitting astride some 102 degree furry beast in 90 degree weather no longer appeals to me, neither does the resulting blisters in tender bits of my anatomy, and other accompanying rashes and discomforts.

So we've pretty much just pottered around the barn property, but only on cooler days (say, low 80's), riding the property line, which is a nice 20 minute ride or so, with opportunity to canter, trot, spook at sparrows, and confront scary Belgians.

I've driven Quzqo a few times, but that's not the same as riding.

So this weekend the weather was perfect, I actually had time, and even rested all morning so I'd have the energy to actually take Himself for a real life bona-fide Trail Ride off the property for the first time in a month or more!!

Quz was unusually mellow, temps were in the mid-70's, I thought he'd be more energetic with the cooler weather, but no, he was happy to just plod along as I led him in from the pasture. Since we were going off the property, I pulled out all the stops: trail saddle, breast collar, bear bells, and since they'd mown the hay next door, I used his bitless bridle (otherwise he'd be diving for the grass and I couldn't do a thing about it with that bridle).

Our ride started out slowly, he was just dragging along, doing all he could to avoid leaving. I tried to tell him that the longer he took to walk away from the barn, the longer he'd BE away from the barn, so it'd be to his benefit to actually walk FASTER!

The neighbor behind the property now has an antique hay mower parked right by the edge where we ride, I don't know if that was deliberate, or just a coincidence. Of course Quz wanted no part of it, but we took a 20 yard detour around the thing and once past he was back to dragging along like he was 21 instead of 12.

We didn't go anywhere too exciting, just our usual route down Fewins Road, up Reynolds, across Bronson Lake into the State Forest where they'd done logging last year. There were still massive piles of logs along the two-track, but it was nice to see the green shoots emerging from the stumps. Nature will find a way!

We did a fair bit of cantering, trotting, met a couple of dirt bikers puttering up the trail, made it to the little stream I love, turned around, cantered and trotted back, Quzqo was near golden perfection, such a wonderful sweet lope, why he couldn't ever manage that in a show ring, I'll never know. We cut through the woods that had been logged this Spring, and thankfully the local rednecks had cleared the cutting debris for their ATVs, so we could ride that trail once again.

Saw a deer skull picked clean by Nature, made a mental note to come back for it another day when I have saddlebags.

Contentedly we made our way back towards the barn, stopping to feast on some alfalfa, or for the horse to take a pee, just admiring the scenery and fresh air and lovely day, and congratulating myself on having such a wonderful time, despite my earlier reservations.

We were walking up the hard dirt and gravel driveway to the barn, I was thinking about where to stop to dismount.

Quzqo EXPLODED into a spectacular BUCK and I flew out of the saddle like a jack-in-the box!

I had time to think "this is going to hurt!" and SLAMMED into the concrete-hard dirt of the driveway, knocking every bit of wind from my lungs. The pain was indescribable, not that I could have described it, as I was trying very very hard to breathe, but couldn't. It might have been 15 seconds before I was able to inhale at last, and was too busy concentrating on how freaking much PAIN I was in to more than glance up at the horse, and saw him standing by the open barn door, looking at me.

I managed to roll over onto my stomach, as my left hip was aflame with pain, and tried to breathe. Within seconds I heard gravel crunching behind me and an SUV pulled up. An older couple got out and came to my assitance, apparently grandparents of one of the boarders (this day was Fair day, and everyone was at the fairgrounds with the horses, and that girl had forgotten her western bridle). They helped me up once I determined nothing was broken (believe me, I know what THAT feels like), and we watched Quzqo wander into the barn, down the aisleway, and into his stall, where the man reported he was eating his grain.

Gee, thanks Quz.

I managed to shake off the shock I was in, found I could walk as long as there was a wall to lean against, we got the horse untacked and the tack put away, I shuffled slowly to my car, and as I drove home could feel my butt swelling by the minute.

Let's just say I now have a deep purple bruise the size of a Medium Pizza on my left butt cheek, and very sore everything else from hip to neck. Nice deep abrasians on my left elbow where I landed, and a huge rein-burn on my right hand. Oh yes, and new and exquisite forms of pain whenever I move.

Don't know WHY he exploded like that, my guess is maybe a fly bit him someplace ultra-tender. I've owned that horse for over 6 years now, and NEVER EVER had he done that. Needless to say MY confidence is shaken to the core, it'll be a while before I can physically ride, never mind the mental obstacle now in front of me.

And why do I keep falling off onto hard painful surfaces. Just once I'd like to fall in a deep fluffy snowbank!

I'll see if I can't hobble out to the barn tonight to check on Quz, he was a filthy sweaty mess when I left him, but I didn't really care, he could rot in his own filth as far as I was concerned at that point.

It's important to trust your horse, and him trust you. Let's hope I can overcome this.

p.s. And yes, I was wearing my helmet. This is the PERFECT example of why you should ALWAYS wear a helmet when you ride, because, well, you never know what will happen!!!