horses Archives - The Cabin Mama ™

How many of us will admit to being a little horse crazy as a kid? When I was a young ‘un, I lined the shelves in my bedroom with lots of little plastic horse statues, hoping one day I’d get to own a real one.

When my parents took us six kids to a winter festival, we sat on a sled with hay bales pulled by a team of huge draft horses. I remember telling my mom, “I love the smell of horses!”

My sisters and I would pretend to be Palominos, Appaloosas, Arabians and Mustangs. We’d run through the woods, whinnying and pawing the air with our “hooves” to prove just how wild and untamed we really were.

I dreamed of having an office one day like Wilbur on TV. His horse, Mr. Ed, would hang his head over the stall door that separated the barn from the architect’s place of business. Ah, the best of both worlds!

Then I grew up. I rode whenever a chance occurred, took a few riding lessons and vowed one day I’d have my own horse. But the time never came. I got married and the kids came along, which took most of our resources to keep up with. And later on when I bought the cabin, there wasn’t enough room to board a horse on that little spot in the woods.

But Doug had owned a horse. And he had built himself a small barn to keep “Sunny” in.

So early on in our dating adventures, he invited me over for dinner and gave me a tour of the place. He had a saddle in the basement, horse blankets on a stand and ropes on the wall, just like a real cowboy!

He even called me “Darlin’” with that country kind of drawl. (Every time he calls me “Darlin” it gives me goosebumps!)

But there was more! “C’mon out to the barn,” he said. “I’ve got something to show you.”

He slid open the door and sunshine streamed across the dirt floor to the hay bales stacked against the rough wooden panels.

“I know you’ve been hankerin’ for a horse, so I got you one.”

And there it was, with sunlight bathing its long brown mane and a white blaze across its forehead. It stood there placid, silent and serene and stared deep into my eyes.

My very own stick pony!

He urged me to take it for a ride, but I knew I was too much of a novice to do it justice. So I just took it home and it shares my office. Just like Wilbur and Mr. Ed!

I’ve been horse crazy since I was a kid. With long blonde hair, I pretended to be a Palomino. And my bedroom was full of plastic horse figurines. They were collectables, ya know.

When we went to our Camp as kids, my sisters and I would gallop stick horses through the pines, whinnying and tossing our manes. We’d even snort, paw the ground and rear up on our hind legs. I found my horse fix any way I could get it!

That’s why it was such a gift when my sister asked me to go horseback riding during a recent family reunion. We drove up to Poncha Pass near Salida, Colorado and pulled in at Granite Mountain Outfitters. A nice lady named Sue is the owner.

It’s been years since I’ve ridden. In fact, the last time it was mosquito season and we herded cows through the sage and all over the ranch. I kept swatting at flies and couldn’t sit down for days.

Anyway, we told them about our riding experience and my sister was paired with a quarter horse named LeRoy. I ended up with Houdini…

…a mule.

Now, before you go and get all judgmental on me, you should know that Houdini was one talented critter, fully capable of opening any gate. In fact, we were told that Houdini recently opened seven gates and let out so many cattle it took hours to round them all up.

So I swung into the saddle and sat proudly upon my mule.

And off we went with our personable guide, Andrew.

Just us and the great outdoors! We rode through meadows with wildflowers, tall stands of aspen and an old logging camp. No stress and no noise.

Except for my mule. He liked to groan. He did it trudging up the hills and he did it when “nature called.” No braying. No snorting. Just groaning.

But he was sure-footed as a goat

When we got to the mountain top, Andrew took pictures of us from every angle.

Then my sister’s horse took a selfie.

On our way down, there was more groaning. This time it was from me.

“Um, Andrew? How much longer till we’re back at the ranch?”

Bones in my bottom were competing for attention with the spectacular scenery. The late afternoon sun lit up a few deer butts on a distant hill, like spotlights in the sage.

Everything glowed. I wanted to bottle it.

Then all at once, our two and a half hours were over. I dismounted my mighty steed and dropped to the ground with legs quivering like jello

It was one of the most memorable rides of my life. The good folks at Granite Mountain Outfitters delivered a little piece of heaven that day.

I got my horse fix on a mule.

And I tossed my mane a little as we drove away.

Horse Crazy Girl Finally Gets a Pony

How I Got My Horse Fix on Poncha Pass