Homelife: adendum
Oct. 11th, 2004 09:53 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pecuniumI forgot a couple of the highlights of that ride. The wild career upslope was just this side of terrifying. I trust that horse to not lose his footing/go someplace he's going to fall, but I don't trust him to not get going so fast he can't lose me in a sudden evolution, nor elect to go faster than I want. Since he is a swell goer, and a sweet ride at a gallop, this isn't usually a problem... but I was in the odd posistion of loving the idea of flying up the slope, and being unable to feel I had complete control, lest I take his head at a point he really needed it, and we dump. Having had him fall out from under me on a surface transition once [less fun for me than him... he was in decent shape in a couple of days, I was unsound for weeks] the thought of doing that on the side of a mountain, even ones as soft as the sandy hill of Morro Bay, was not on my list of things to do. Had I been trying to use the irons, I'd've been forced to bail out... so I am a better rider, it seems, than I seem to think, or my lack of recent practice would indicate.
But just before it, I looked over to the right, across the draw/box canyon to see a mule deer buck. Still as death and bigger than life. He was side on to us and the only thing that moved was the point of his head, and that very slowly. Not a twitch of ear or tail for the best part of ten minutes as we watched him. The only thing which would have kept a hunter from potting him, as easily as punching holes in a target was the difficulty of recovering the carcass. I wish I'd had a camera, because he was, though young, a large, and beautiful specimen.
After the gallivant we were on more shaded terrain (in the eucalyptus forest... if/when that ever burns it will be awful. Eucalyptus is one of the most explosive timbers in the world. Those wonderful oils, which make it evident a stand of gum trees is about... with that redolent odor of cough drops; smellable for miles on a warm summer day, are volatile, and they outgas in the heat until they get a spark... Pawhoomph, a whole stand is ablaze, and no way to cut a firebreak, or do a backburn, but I digress) we had a slew of roots and erosion breaks, so up the slope, at a moderate canter and sans irons, (and he with a mane removed by mules) we jumped them. The highest was maybe 14", but still a glorious thing... free and easy, with a bunching of liquid motion that the rider gets to share... and a sense that one is truly invincible... can surmount anything and carry the day, prize in hand to a cheering crowd.
Which made the news of Christopher Reeve's death the slightest bit more poignant. There, but for the twists of fate, I might go, because I somehow doubt the last fall I took was the last fall I'll take.
But just before it, I looked over to the right, across the draw/box canyon to see a mule deer buck. Still as death and bigger than life. He was side on to us and the only thing that moved was the point of his head, and that very slowly. Not a twitch of ear or tail for the best part of ten minutes as we watched him. The only thing which would have kept a hunter from potting him, as easily as punching holes in a target was the difficulty of recovering the carcass. I wish I'd had a camera, because he was, though young, a large, and beautiful specimen.
After the gallivant we were on more shaded terrain (in the eucalyptus forest... if/when that ever burns it will be awful. Eucalyptus is one of the most explosive timbers in the world. Those wonderful oils, which make it evident a stand of gum trees is about... with that redolent odor of cough drops; smellable for miles on a warm summer day, are volatile, and they outgas in the heat until they get a spark... Pawhoomph, a whole stand is ablaze, and no way to cut a firebreak, or do a backburn, but I digress) we had a slew of roots and erosion breaks, so up the slope, at a moderate canter and sans irons, (and he with a mane removed by mules) we jumped them. The highest was maybe 14", but still a glorious thing... free and easy, with a bunching of liquid motion that the rider gets to share... and a sense that one is truly invincible... can surmount anything and carry the day, prize in hand to a cheering crowd.
Which made the news of Christopher Reeve's death the slightest bit more poignant. There, but for the twists of fate, I might go, because I somehow doubt the last fall I took was the last fall I'll take.
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no subject
Date: 2004-10-11 06:13 pm (UTC)It's -- I don't know what it is, but yes, it could have been me, and when I ride again, it could be me. It could be you. May never be either of us. But it happens.
But do we stop because of this? Do we just sit in front of the TV turning into a mound of goo? Do we only racewalk for excercise? Do we only play videogames for fun?
I don't know, it's just been making me think a lot lately.
no subject
Date: 2004-10-11 09:18 pm (UTC)About five years ago, when I was just getting back into riding as a regular pasttime again, I had a pair of falls, one day apart.
The both were at a moderate pace, and the second was a deusey... right over the pommel and to the right... head and shoulders into the dirt... I could feel the sandy soil crunching, and the rest of me coming to rest.
I just lay there. Stunned, and trying to collect my thoughts... because I knew it was a high-risk fall. Wiggle the toes, wiggle the fingers, see how the neck feels, and just breathe.
Maia collected the horse, and came back... and in a state of decided unease, because I was still lying there, apparently unmoving.
Helmets, always wear helmets. Mine paid for itself right there (and Troxel will repack the foam for $15. We have to send the last helmet I bought back, because someone else took a fall in it (and it did more visible damage than the one I took, cracked the shell).
Oddly, when things like the fall Leus (the horse) took under me, happen, I don't worry so much about me, as I do about the horse. I was lying there, in all sorts of pain... (we'd been cantering a turn, moving inside because I didn't want to take a spill down the sheer wall of the lakeside 20' to the water) and I was reminded of the bike path when I heard the shoes scrabbling, and felt the bottom dropping out (it was a night ride, of which I am less fond now than I was then... even when I know the trail).
I got my leg out from under, and then hit the asphalt... rolled once and then slid 2-4 body-widths, with knees, hips and elbows for brake pads (not recommended). The elbows were merely bruised, because I was wearing a light leather jacket, the hips... ow.
He had a piece of road rash on his knee, and a cut above his eye, and barely noticed. I couldn't really walk for two week, and sleeping was agony for days. While I was lying there, I forgot to check myself out, trying to see where he was and listening for screams.
Funny what we think about.
TK
no subject
Date: 2004-10-11 09:44 pm (UTC)I think he knew that if I had a moment to think, I might have been reluctant to get back on -- I think it was my first fall, and it wasn't during a lesson.
Another time I fell, bruised up very badly (fell on a manhole cover in the middle of a patch of grass, gotta love city riding) and complained a week later that I didnt get a 'good enough' scar.
That was the same day I broke my legs, my tailbone. Careful what you wish for, eh? Now I have 3 scars, one from where they cut my leg open to get the bar in my leg, and 2 smaller ones for the screws! I remember how I was thrown, and then concerned the horse would come back round and trample me -- I was on an incline, and dragged my body out of the path of the horse, who lost interest about 30 seconds later and started munching on grass. THEN I realized my leg was broken. (The other leg they realized was broken day 3 in the hospital, tailbone at an office visit about a month later.) My helmet was fine, didn't hit my head. It was a troxel, too. Love their helmets.
I still made a point, twice, of getting back in the saddle. Once I tried on the oldest horse in the barn, and she wouldn't move. AT ALL. So we had to give up. The second time I went on a trail ride with a friend, for an hour. First hour I was fine, last 15 minutes was a panic attack, but I still stayed on.
I never had a horse fall from under me -- I would be so worried about the horse! I think it would freak me out, too. Now you've given me one more thing to worry about if I ever ride again! (Things keeping me from riding -- money, pain, and I am so out of shape, never got back into shape again after the accident. The first and last I can work on, and the second? Gotta make the decision if riding is worth it. I say yes.)
At the risk of sounding cheesy, I'm sure Christopher Reeve would have gotten back into the saddle if ever possible. I know more people that felt drawn to go again, than those who were spooked for life. It's a great thing, riding.
no subject
Date: 2004-10-14 12:51 pm (UTC)