Wave Rider Turned 'Equestrian'...

I have always loved horses.
I started riding when I was about 5...on and off for years.
I was never the obsessed girl who could only think of her horse, and collected the plastic ponies...but I loved horses, and riding.
My mom and I used to go up to Camp Carysbrook, when I was about 5, with the Cumisky family....they had 6 kids and ran the camp in the summers. I wore my riding hat from the time I got up in the morning, until I was forced to take it off to sleep.
It was a good look with my cutoff shorts, 'peace' tshirt, and tennis shoes. It made my head sweat, but I did not care...I was cool. Everyone knew I rode---because I wore the hat...all the time. Yeah.
When I was 12, I was lucky enough to go to Camp Alleghany...and I got to ride---for real! I remember having to leave during the Blue/Grey Team 'sing off'...and hike up the hill to the stables for class.
There was a creepy part, on that path through the woods, just after you passed the Dining Hall, and before you could see the Stables---and we used to run through there like bats outta hell.
My ensemble' was a bit different this go 'round...
We had to wear jeans,riding boots...and the famous riding hat. My black velvet riding hat was more like a huge mixing bowl with a strap to hold it on to my huge head.(we all have big heads in my family...it's a curse.)
My rubber riding boots came up to my knees...offered no real protection to my feet, and were hot as heck! Plus, after class, I had to get someone to help me get them off because they were much like a 'chinese finger torture' when removed alone. (Thank you counselor Trudy for letting me use your butt to get them off!)
I weighed all of 90 lbs that summer, and they gave me the biggest horse: Tonic Water, aka: 'TW'...he was HUGE...and stubborn...and lazy.I always had to use the steps to get up on him...I think the Counselors had pity on me the first day when I had to repeatedly hoist my leg up, like a Rockette, to reach the stirrup.
TW and I had a love/hate relationship.
One day, after a good ride, while I was giving him his water, he casually stepped on to my foot....and leaned. I could NOT get him off my foot! and thanks to the chinese torture/no protection boots, my foot was being crushed. I put my whole 90 lb. self in to trying to get him off...he never even raised his head...instead, he eyeballed me from the side and kept slurping his water. (I think he was smiling...really. I do.)
I imagine, to the observer, this had to have been hilarious to see...like a cricket trying to move a sleeping dog.
I have never been a 'girl-girl' and I was not going to cry...but wow, did my foot hurt! Finally a friend came and practically body slammed him from the side and he moved his hoof over 6 inches like, 'oh, sorry, was I standing on you?'
Then the ultimate insult, TW raises his head out of the water...big spitty horse water dripping off his face...and sneezed on me.Horse snot. Nice.
I still loved my horse.
I learned how to groom him, braid his mane and tail, and muck his stall. I could saddle and bridle him by myself...I was in Heaven.
At the Camp Horse Show I got 1st place---and a fat blue ribbon---in Showmanship. TW was gorgeous! However, I think I got first place because I actually got him to trot while I ran next to him....everyone was laughing and cheering when I got his lazy ass to trot...I was practically sprinting next to him because his stride was 4 times mine! I loved my horse.
Another day, I volunteered to go to the lower pasture and bridle up the horses and bring them all the way--- through camp---back to the stable. No saddles, just a bridle.I was proud that the riding teachers thought I could do this...next stop, the Kentucky Derby?
I got in to the field with TW...lazily chewing on his grass...and he did that sideways look at me. He would NOT raise his head so I could get his bridle on.I had the bridle over my shoulder, struggling to get his big fat head up and get the bit in his mouth before he went back to his snacking. TW had a bad habit of thrusting his bit forward, with his tongue, so it was not placed properly---it would end up on the top gums of his front teeth, not back behind his back teeth. He was good at faking me out....(this will come in to play momentarily.)
My Counselor flung me up on his back---he was still eating...and I jerked his head up, got him under my control...and we were all off. We had about 6 or 7 horses...some on leads, others being ridden. We started through the Camp...getting close to the tennis courts. A 'cease fire' was called for all tennis balls as to not spook any of the horses. I felt super cool because none of my friends from home rode, and there I was, bare back, like I was riding in the Rose Parade...waving. Yeah.
Then...somebody (idiot!) yelled at another girl on a horse...the horse she was leading got loose, and started to take off.
Suddenly, TW, Mr. Lazy Ass, decided he was at Church Hill Downs and the gates had just opened...Oh crap! I thought. No saddle, no stirrups...just the reins.
(This was one of those moments you 'never forget'.)
I was pulling back on TW's reins...to no avail...he took off at a full hand gallop after the loose horse...who luckily was headed up the path to the stables.
I was holding on for dear life as tree branches were smacking me in the head.(Thank goodness I had my black velvet mixing bowl on my head!)
I assumed the 'jockey position' and put my head down next to TW's neck. Still trying to rein in my idiot 'thinks he's a derby contender' horse.
I can still hear Cooper Dawson---who ran the camp---yelling 'SLOW DOWN!
All I was thinking was 'please don't trip on the rocks TW!'...then for a brief---and I mean brief---second, I felt like Liz Taylor in 'International Velvet'.
When we reached the stables, TW came to a dead stop almost throwing me over his head. I slid off his head and hit the ground on my feet.
And I did, I am sorry to say, cry...and I punched him in the neck out of frustration and adrenaline overload! (which, coming from a 90 pounder, did not faze him as he walked over to get water.)
I know my instructors were freaking out as they rode up...
Turns out, TW had thrust his bit out...so as I was pulling him back, I was pulling on his front teeth and gums...and that had to be uncomfortable...then I felt bad.
I finally calmed down...enough to stand with TW while he got some water...yup. He was looking sideways at me...I moved my foot away from him. He continued to slurp his water---(a sound I love!)and when he raised his head, he did not drop spit all over me, or sneeze.
I led him to his stall, closed the gate, and hung up his bridle in the tack room.
I went back to see him before I walked back down the hill. He came over and put his head up so I could reach him. I scratched him between his eyes and rubbed the top of his velvety nose. He sighed...and did that horse 'coo'...not a neigh, but like a human would say 'ahhhh.'
We were friends again...and I loved my horse.