Had an opportunity to skip town for a few days. Cap’n Bligh suggested we go ride horsies in the desert. In the fractional nanosecond it took for me to respond, i wondered if i would end up being more of a spectator….
i spent an hour yesterday afternoon chasing five nervous calves around a paddock. From the back of a gorgeous Appaloosa named Chip.
And it was an absolute blast! Who doesn’t want to be a cowboy? For 60 minutes, i was living that schoolgirl fantasy.
These places make their money on feeding the dreams of middle-aged folks reclaiming their childhood. The wranglers make it work… And also don’t want you (or their horses) to get hurt in the process.
More riding ahead.
If i’ve been scarce in your comment boxes, it’s because i’m off to chase them dogies… Loping my doughy, middle-aged ass across the Sonoran desert. Pretending that i’m a Cartwright… Singing “Sweet Baby James” to my horse.
“Regulators! Mount up!”