We have this thing here in Nebraska that we call “eatin’ dirt”. Simply put, it is when you and the horse you are riding are no longer one. You separate. You get your ass thrown!
Okay, so it wasn’t quite that violent but it was unscheduled. After I put up my good mare, I was going to put a couple miles on my husband’s green mare which really, up until this time, has caused me no real concern. I know that she is buddy / barn sour so I usually try to keep her in her comfort zone when riding her around here. We just went a little too far out of that range yesterday and I lost the fight with the 1,000 pound horse.
The wreck started at the top of the triangle in the northernmost part of the tracks. I had turned her into this bean field to head north. She thought better of it and we struggled until we dropped off the road to the south. The point of the triangle to the south is where she and I parted ways. The tracks back to the barn and house were me being transported by my son via car.
In true Derby fashion, I did look at my GPS as I lay in the dirt: it read .25 miles. And I will most certainly add that distance to the Leaderboard.
I am bruised and banged up a bit, but thankful I was 1) wearing my helmet. Yes, my head did hit hard enough that my ear hurt and 2) that I had my phone in my pocket and not on the saddle. It wasn’t that far back to the house, but it would have been a long walk the way I was feeling.
Leigh of Team 10 mentioned to me, “I have been praying for everyone riding in the distance derby. More riding, longer distances and hours, more riding out by ourselves, the odds are for more accidents.” She is right. Be careful out there.
Dusting off and getting back on…..
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