Guess which one I would like to ride?
Alan loves to ride horses. So much so that he has a cowboy had from Colombia that he wears whenever he thinks he’ll even be in close proximity to a horse. Me? Not so much. It’s probably because I’m a control freak, but I do not derive enjoyment from being saddled to the back of a thousand-pound beast.
[I know, I don’t like babies or horses. Clearly I’m a witch. You probably think I punch kittens in my free time.]
And yet, the other weekend we went to the Marriott Ranch in Hume, VA to do just that. Here’s a glimpse inside my brain during that 90 minute horsey ride…
…
Please, please, please give me a good horse. Not a stumbly-horse or a huge horse.
How about that little number? It looks like a low-rider horse – definitely my speed.
Shit. Of course they put the 4′ tall chick on that horse.
You would think she’d want to compensate for being short by riding a TALL horse.
Oh. This is my horse? Applejack?
OK, Applejack. It’s just you and me. Please be an awesome horse.
Applejack. That’s actually a good name for a horse. But a dumb name for a cereal.
Would’ve been slightly more awesome if he (she?) was named Blackjack.
God I’m glad they didn’t put me on a horse named War Horse. That would’ve sucked.
Hey there! Applejack! Why are you twitching? Calm it down, boy. Girl?
[I notice flies crawling on Applejack, causing the twitching, and try to shoo them away while not letting go of the reins or the saddle. This results in me essentially blowing on Applejack’s mane and rubbing him with my elbows. Which probably looked crazy. At this point, we headed off down the trail.]
Whoa. Whoa. Slow down. No need to bury your nose in Alan’s horse’s ass, Applejack.
Why is it called horseback riding anyway? Why not just horse riding?
What other part are you going to ride? The head?
Oh crap – stream challenge! That thing looks filled with rocks – PLEASE Applejack, place your feet carefully!
Whew. Good job. Whoa. So good that you’re going to stop walking and take a celebratory leak, huh?
OK. And we now KNOW that you are a boy, Applejack. Well done!
And I now know what it means to piss like a horse: apparently it means leaving a foamy pile of bubbles in your wake.
OK. And we’re walking again.
This is as terrifying as flying in an airplane. I hate giving up control!
I’m sorry you have to climb this hill with me on your back, Applejack!
Oh my God – what if Applejack stumbles and falls and crushes me under his weight?
Wait – that is not very likely. When is the last time you saw a horse trip and fall? Ever?
I spent the rest of the ride trying to imagine a scene in which a horse did a somersault.
I’m so glad I found this video AFTER the ride:
pithypants 