It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon in the fall. Leaves just starting to change, a crispness in the air, and quite awhile since Cowboy Dad and I had been on a trail ride, so we loaded up the horse trailer and headed off to a local park where we had heard there were horseback riding trails open to the public. I was so excited to be riding my mare Daisy, since she had been getting better and better on each ride throughout the summer, and a long ride through new territory was exactly what I’d been wishing for. My husband was riding his good solid mare Cricket, and we knew a wonderful day was in store for us.
I expected, considering the beautiful weather and it being a weekend, that there might be a lot of riders on the trail, so I was surprised to see the trailer and campground area completely vacant. We unloaded our excited horses, saddled up, and started out on the trail that was marked clearly for horses. It was cool and grassy and shaded, and our horses were happy and willing to ride down the trail.
We rode along a hillside and into some trees, along the side of a small lake, and to a gravel road for boat access onto the lake. From there, the trail turned into dense underbrush and wove steadily upward into the trees. Soon after it headed straight down into a washed out gully where a small stream trickled below. It was beautiful, and we were enjoying the ride until that first stream crossing. Our mares willingly slogged through the mud and crossed the stony creek bed, but climbing up the other side was really a struggle, and the mud was very slippery. The trail led back up the gully on the other side, and we made it to the top, glad to be past the slippery area. But instead of continuing on away from the creek, the trail turned down again, crossing the creek repeatedly, and by the time we realized it, we were half way through a slippery, muddy trail that we really didn’t want to ride on.
The horses were doing their best, but at several places we thought we should dismount and let them choose their own way up the steep hillside. It was difficult for us to climb it on foot, even, and we ended up with mud up to our shoulders. In some places, we tied the mares’ reins up to their saddle horns and just let go, knowing they would make their way to the top and wait for us to catch up.
At one point in the ride, I had stayed on Daisy, but my husband was walking, and his horse wanted to climb the hill faster than he was, so he let her go. Daisy and I made it to the top of the hill, and then looked back for Cricket, who had dropped a rein and was stepping on it. I was trying to grab her loose rein before she broke it, and not paying attention to my own horse very well, and all of a sudden Daisy started walking to the right, towards an open area on the other side of a woven wire fence. I had seen the fence, but Daisy had not, and I didn’t realize she was actually moving into the fence until it was too late and she was in it. She panicked and started to run, straight at my husband who was still climbing the hill, and I yelled for him to look out, trying to stop Daisy and scared to death that she was badly hurt. A wire had come away from the fence, she had caught a back leg in it, and was plunging to get away. Chris yelled at me to get off before I was hurt, so I jumped off and backwards, but ended up on the ground with Daisy looming above me, and I was pretty certain I was going to get crushed. Daisy stopped, stood still and didn’t move, panting and scared to death. I got up quickly and looked at her legs, while Chris located the loose wire and hung it up on the fence.
Daisy wasn’t badly hurt, there were a few little marks where the fence had snagged her, but I couldn’t believe that was all. We were scared and trembling, and I was thinking how awful the whole thing could have turned out. I led her the rest of the way, not wanting to stress her legs if she really did have an injury that I couldn’t see. We really needed a shortcut, but we didn’t know the trails, so we didn’t want to wander lost in that uneven ground the rest of the day, so we stayed on the trail we were on. It finally led back out of the forest and we made it back to our trailer.
The whole experience left us feeling horrible, with all of the “should haves” and “what ifs” weighing on our minds. It was a ride that could have been beautiful, but we ended it feeling like we were lucky to all be walking away from it. Those trails are only suited to very dry weather conditions, and that’s probably why no one was there on that particular day, but we didn’t know that. I’m very thankful that my horse wasn’t hurt, and that the rest of us didn’t get tangled up or stepped on as well. We decided that a rider should always ask around before heading to a new trail, and get more recommendations so you know what to expect.
