So I got up at the butt-crack of dawn and got all bundled in many, many layers to go riding this morning. It's a two-hour drive to DM, where we got Jim, and all drove to the ranch. It's been forever since I'd ridden a horse, and as I recall now, I never took one beyond a walk. Funny how memory works. I rode a palomino mare named Traveller. Jim helped by pretty much putting all the tack on: bridle, blanket, padding, saddle. New saddle, BTW (this is important soon). At the first turn, the strap on the saddle came off, followed shortly by the saddle and me. I realised what was happening and fell well, came up uninjured. First question: WTF? Second question: That doesn't count as a throw, right? Answers: strap malfunction (soon corrected), and no, respectively. This horse was wonderful. She was very intuitive, and very calm. Also, she's a compulsive eater. Keep that head up, girl. For the first hour, I was wary of the ground far, far below, constantly tracking where I could land without impaling myself or breaking bones. I needn't have worried; that first time was my only fall. After about three hours, I was sure I'd find big blisters on my bum (I didn't, but it hurts to sit). It was a great, if exhausting, day. The weather was clear with a warm wind, temp in the high 60s.
I had to have P drive the last 90 minutes home, I was so zony, and I think I'll be going to bed very shortly. Birthday begins in just over two hours. P made me a lemon creme pie with cherries and whipped cream, very nummy.