Day Fifty Three

Matchett Family Fiascos

Don't ask me why I remembered this today, but it popped into my head and I can't stop laughing.

We were a divided family in that I am a mountains person; Andy loves the beach. So, we would rotate family vacations, sometimes renting a mountain cabin, other times a beach condo. On those mountain vacations, I always sought out horseback riding trails. My husband went along with this even though he isn't really a horseback riding kinda guy. He especially loved the mountain trails where it was a sheer 400 ft. drop off a cliff to certain death. Adding our young children to the equation made it even more special for this protective dad. Under most circumstances, I was usually the worrier. On these trails, it never occurred to me we were in danger.

I remember one ride where our then seven year old daughter had a feisty horse. Her brother and father watched in horror as her horse took off. Knowing my daughter, I told them she would be fine. Sure enough, that little thing pulled back on the reins and got that horse in line. She looked at me and smiled. Piece of cake.

I didn't fare as well on a trip to Mexico. There were tons of things to do but I wanted to ride horseback on the beach. I will never forget that ride. Now I don't want to sound like the Ugly American, but I should have known things were going to be rough when I laid eyes on the set up. The guides were dressed like garage mechanics. The horses were pitiful. I forgot about riding and wanted to groom the poor things. Their feet needed a farrier and they were too skinny. One look at the bridle and I wanted to cry. The tack was held together by paperclips. Andy looked at me sideways, but I didn't want to back out.

Of course I was given the most unruly horse. We had to cross a busy intersection to get to the beach. That was an experience. Then, when we got to the beach my horse tried desperately to get me off his back. I hung on but the guide noticed. He started shouting at the horse in Spanish. Then he told me my horse was used to being the lead. We switched horses. I now had a horse who had been in the lead but was now in the back. He wasn't happy and refused to budge. Finally, it dawned on me! This horse only spoke Spanish. I remembered Speedy Gonzales and yelled, "Andele!" That did it! A long trail ride over another highway and through a village where everybody had Pitbulls running loose, to our destination. I took a bus back to the hotel.

But the most hair raising experience came a few years ago. My daughter wanted to go horseback riding. She found a place in Hiccopaw or Holopaw FL where it's supposed to be a real back to nature experience. Our group consisted of a few tourists, my daughter and me. Two of the tourists were from China and didn't speak English. The guide was a good old boy who had the devil in him. He asked the group if we wanted the "dry" trail or the "scenic" one. I will always opt for dry. Nobody else agreed.

When we got to a river and he said we were going to cross it, I was sure he was joking and would take us around it. I was wrong. We went through it. The water was so deep, it came up over the saddle. I was pissed. The guide said to put our feet up near the horses ears. Yeah, right. I am an old woman. All I could think of was Tim Conway doing a routine where he slides under the horse - except that would take me under water. There were alligators and snakes in the water, too. I wanted to die. Not only did we go through the river, we had to go back and do it again on the return trip. It was so much fun to drive home from Hell-a-paw in soaking wet jeans.

Despite all the trauma and drama, I would do it all again. There is nothing like a mountain trail on horseback. Just avoid those rivers, and cliffs and foreign countries...