I remember my first horse ride. I was 13, and I was so excited.
My mother had recently remarried. I think they wanted to get to know me and my brother a little better, so they decided we would go on a family horseback ride. This was a very big deal to me.
I drew horses. I painted horses. I read every book I could find that had a horse in it. I wanted a horse very badly, although at that point I had spent far more time dreaming about horses than actually sitting on one.
We were visiting the mountains and pulled into a regular trail-riding barn near a campground. Nothing fancy. Just horses, a barn, dirt roads, and trails leading off into the mountains.
Unfortunately, it was late in the afternoon. They were closing.
I was disappointed in the way only a 13-year-old girl completely obsessed with horses could be disappointed. We were leaving the next day, so there wasn't going to be another chance.
The barn manager must have seen my face because he decided they could take us out for one last short ride. I couldn't believe my luck.
They put Mom and my stepfather on horses, my brother on a pony, and then they brought out a beautiful gray mare for me. She was tall. I was not. They adjusted the stirrups, got me up on that beautiful animal, and off we went down a dirt road away from the barn.
We rode for maybe 20 minutes, went down a couple of paths, and I was on top of the world. I sat stiffly upright, probably looking exactly like a 13-year-old who had absolutely no idea what she was doing. But I was riding a horse.
What I Didn't Know About Dinnertime
Now let me give you a little context here, because this was something I would understand much better years later after I had worked with horses in a barn. There are basically two times of day most barn horses look forward to with great excitement and very little patience: breakfast and dinner.
Dinner is especially important because that usually means coming in for the day to a comfortable stall with feed, hay, and fresh water. But I didn't know any of that yet. I was just obliviously happy. 
If you're a horse person—and you probably are if you're reading this memory—you know where this is going. This mare knew exactly what time it was.
Her friends were back at the barn. There was probably plenty of neighing, nickering, and posturing going on as everybody waited to be fed. All the normal horse commotion that happens around feeding time. And we had asked this mare to go out for one more trail ride while everybody else was getting dinner.
Feeding time. That was the thought going through this mare's mind as we headed back toward the barn. The barn where her sweet feed, hay, and fresh water were waiting.
She neighed, then she shook her head.
The trail leader looked back nervously. “Take the reins and pull them in tight. Don't let her get her head.”
I listened and pulled back on the reins. She immediately sidestepped a little and shook her head again.
The trail leader started toward me. “Let me lead you back to the barn,” he said, reaching for my reins.
My mare was having none of that. She jumped forward and darted around him, with me hanging onto the reins and the saddle.
“Pull back hard!”
I did. And about that time, that little mare took the bit in her teeth and took off. She had had enough for the day, and she had sweet feed waiting.
Lickety-Split
That mare took off lickety-split. A full, outright gallop.
She had a completely novice rider bouncing around on her back while she tossed her head and pulled against the reins. I grabbed mane. I grabbed the saddle, and I held on for dear life.
I did not scream. I did not cry. I held on.
And then something happened that I still remember all these years later. I wasn't afraid. If you truly love the animals, you know it is not fear—it is pure joy. Excitement. I felt no danger. Not once.
There is something about the power of a horse underneath you at a full gallop that is difficult to explain to someone who has never felt it. The ground is flying beneath you, the horse is moving with this incredible strength, and for that moment, you are moving with her.
I laughed, leaned forward, and held on. That mare was going one place, and she was not going to be stopped. Dinner was waiting.
Back at the Barn
The barn staff had heard the yelling and came running out to see what was going on. My mare came flying into the yard, slid to a stop right where she belonged, and waited.
Someone helped me down, and I was smiling. No tears, just joy.
My mom, stepfather, and brother arrived back shortly after. They rode in with worried faces, but I was just standing there waiting for them, completely excited by the ride.
That afternoon was special. It did not scare me. Knew then that my obsession was not a phase. It was love, and I would do anything to be able to do it again. And over the years I did just that.
