Haikufarm Blog - Full Story
...The year was 1998, and I had recently moved my horse, my dogs, and myself away from my hometown.
In the process of moving, I fell among questionable company. You know, the kind of people who ask questions like, "Hey, I've been thinking about this endurance thing. You wanna try it?"
Oh, hell yes.
Although I was enrolled in graduate school and working a full-time job, I wanted to do that endurance-thing more than anything else in the world. I rode my mare constantly that summer, read the old Ridecamp listserv like a crazy woman, and dreamed of the Tevis.
It never occurred to me at the time that my beautiful-on-the-inside mare and I wouldn't quite fit in. I knew that endurance riding Was. My. Destiny.
But, when we arrived in camp, clearly there was One of These Things That Was Not Like The Others...
My horse wasn't slender and spritely. She didn't have a chiseled profile, a babydoll head, dear little tiny ears, and a "blow-up-my-nose-and-I'll-carry-you-to-the-moon" expression on her face.
My riding companion was not much help. Her horse (a foxtrotter/arab cross) at least looked like an Arab, and he was being an idiot. He looked like he belonged in the crowd.
My mare was brown. She was sturdy. She had a head like a boot-box and an expression that clearly said "I am too sensible to let you get hurt out here."
We didn't fit in...
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