Loading a horse in the blistering heat, into a big metal box sounds fun right? Not right. Loading. Unloading. Loading again. Loading the tack. Conversations floating around about how we’re probably going to be late. But, better late than never. I realized that when I speeding down interstate 80 doing about 90 miles per hour with a horse trailer, the stress just fades away.
2016. Wow, I thought I was so good when it came to riding. I was so wrong. I had so much to work on, with my new horse Sadie. I went from a mare who just ran the pattern and put her whole heart into it, to a mare that you had to really work if you wanted a solid pattern out of her. Big change, if you know how to ride, which I really didn’t. Sure, I had been on horses my whole entire life. And by horses, I mean miniature ponies when I was little, to ponies who rolled on me on gravel roads, to the big boy horses, which I was running with the big kids. Sadie, was my top notch, big girl horse. This is the horse that taught me so much.
In the world of barrel racing, you do not want to touch one of the three metal cans, called a barrel. When you do, you either end up with a sore horse, or seventeen bruises, depending on if it’s you, or your horse that hits it If you love your horse, you’d gladly take all those bruises over chancing that your horse gets sore. Because horses are expensive, and so are vets. Being honest they don’t care, because they get hurt somehow anyway. That’s beside the point. In 2016, I