By: Bob Goddard
Trail riders need to make good decisions. While riding can be fun and relaxing, it’s important to know when to stop and evaluate the situation.
As any living trail rider will attest, knowing what not to do is as important as knowing what to do.
Dodging cars while crossing the TransCanada Highway requires a series of good, quick decisions, but simply not crossing the TransCanada in the first place would be the best decision.
I’ve always believed that my daughter Jamie made good decisions on the trail. I believed this because Jamie is a sensible, level headed person.
However, I recently learned of an incident that has shaken my faith in the girl’s decision-making ability.
The incident involved Jamie, her best friend Andrea, and their respective horses, Eddie (a Morgan gelding) and Image (a Tennessee Walker mare). In retrospect, I regard Image as the brains of the group.
According to Jamie’s version, the episode took place during a perfectly innocent after school trail ride. It was one of those blissful late autumn jaunts across neighbouring hayfields, through familiar woods, and over small bridges. A safe, wholesome good time.
However, one of the keys to having a good time is knowing when to quit. An experienced rider knows that when the trail ends, it’s time to turn around and go back.
A rider looking for experience will attempt to make her own trail. Fools rush in where angels fear to ride.
When Jamie and Andrea came to the end of the trail that day, they made a very important decision. They decided to press on despite the fact that a rather formidable creek was in their way.
To cross, they had to descend a 15 ft embankment that nature cruelly arranged at a 70 degree angle. That’s pretty steep. For sensible people, this geographical feature marked the end of the trail.
While we sometimes admire fools for blazing new trails, it’s important to remember that they’re still fools. Despite the obstacle, Andrea ordered her horse Image forward. The horse refused to budge. The only way Andrea was going to get that horse down the embankment was to switch positions with her.
At that moment, I was probably at home doing something productive and not worrying about Jamie. If I was thinking about Jamie, I’m sure I was thinking something like, “Gosh, I’m proud of that girl for making such good decisions!” Meanwhile, Jamie was urging a reluctant half-ton animal over a small cliff.
One of the biggest problems of the human-equine relationship is our tendency to apply human standards to horse behaviour. In this case, Eddie’s hesitation to descend the embankment was understood as a refusal. This was not true.
Eddie was simply using the time to work up the necessary physical and psychological requirements to do exactly what he was being asked to do. Eddie dove.
Being a gentlemanly Morgan and aided by the physics of thrust and gravity, Eddie allowed Jamie to go first. By propelling her over his head and into the air, Eddie enabled Jamie to discover the joy of wingless flight. What a good horse!
During a moment like this, it’s reasonable to assume that the thinking part is over. Not Jamie. Her brain came up with the following solution: hang on. One hand clutched the reins and the other had a death grip on her dressage crop.
This was nothing but a desperate attempt – almost symbolic – to find security amid all the uncertainty. But there was no need to hang on because after descending the embankment, Eddie wasn’t going anywhere.
As Jamie emerged from the water unharmed, she was greeted by her land animal companions.
Image was patiently waiting to go home, Eddie was eager to do it all over again, and Andrea, Jamie’s close friend, had a look of deep concern on her face. It was an expression she was itching to change. “Is it okay for me to laugh now?” she asked.
The ride home was wet and cold. While she had made a bad decision, Jamie had gone where no equestrian had ever been. Andrea said it was almost a thing of beauty.
While there is no marker or indication of the new trail part, Jamie succeeded in extending the trail an additional 25 ft … if you count the air space.
