I’ve had the strangest feeling for the past few weeks; a craving, but not for something to eat. It’s more a craving to do something, an urge. And what is it a craving for?

I really, really want to go horseback riding. Bad. I really do. It’s bothering me. Every time I see a movie with a horse in it, I start dreaming about it. The strangest thing is, I’m not that horse mad. I’ve never been girly enough to go through that “I love horses so much I’ve plastered posters of them all over my room!” phase. It’s just that I enjoy horseback riding. For some reason I like the idea of traveling across open land, propelled not by an engine, but by the beating heart of a living being. I like knowing that if for some reason something goes wrong, the horse can take over for me (if they’re well-trained, that is.)

The only problem is, I don’t want to own a horse in order to ride one. Well, I’d own one, if someone else would take care of the horse for me. I’ve come so close to having my feet mashed by hooves while trying to clean them, and needless to say I’m very protective of my fragile feet. I just get so nervous while trying to clean them that I end up doing something wrong, which makes me even more nervous, and I just can’t do it. I can brush, saddle, even brush their teeth, but I can’t handle anything around the horse’s legs.

Now that I’ve typed that all out, I think I’ve realized I have a very odd, unique foot phobia. Hmm. Interesting.

Anyway. When I moved out here from Arizona several years ago, I was all excited because I thought finally I could go to a stable where they had readily available English saddles. After learning on western saddles and riding them all over the place, once I finally got on an English to test my skills, I realized that despite what everyone had told me the English saddle was not only easier, but more comfortable. In case you don’t know, that’s completely contrary to everything any western-rider will tell you. But, lo and behold, out here in Virginia horse people are incredibly snobby. At least, the horse people I’ve tried to find are. I haven’t been able to find a single stable that will lease a horse for an hour. I take that back – I found one, but it was $100 for the hour. That’s *insane*! I used to ride free-range in Arizona for two hours for $25. I can’t stomach paying $100 for an hour in a corral – not even out in the open, in a corral!

It kills me. I did research on the internet to find a riding stable and all of their websites went on in these snobby tones saying that they won’t lease for an hour because that only shows that someone doesn’t care to dedicate their lives to the sport. I’m not in it for the sport, I’m in it for the sheer enjoyment of it, for the connection to the animal, for just how much fun it is to go galloping across the countryside. I have no aspirations to become an equestrian rider, I just want to ride the freaking horse. Why is it so wrong to just want to come borrow your horse for an hour? I’ll saddle it, I’ll be nice to it, I’m very well trained. But noooOooo, everyone has to be a horse snob out here.

Argh. I never thought I’d say this, but I miss Arizona. I’ve now found five reasons why I miss that state – 1) the amazing array of visible stars, 2) authentic Mexican food, 3) Bookman’s Used Books & CDs, 4) Eegee’s lovely and unique slushies, like nothing you’ve ever slushed before, and 5) the free-to-be-you-and-me approach to horses. Good thing I’m going back to Tucson in March.

When I lived in Sierra Vista, that little town just north of Mexico, there was a stable on Fort Huachuca (the Army fort that basically built that town) that had this amazing leasing program. For $100 or so a month, you got your pick of their available horses. That horse would be entirely yours, no one else could ride him. That $100 a month paid for everything – boarding, feed, even veterinary bills – all you had to do was come in whenever the stable was open, saddle him up, and take him anywhere you wanted to on the fort. I loved that, it was perfect for me and my foot phobia. I even got my parents to agree to it. After only one visit to the stable I knew exactly which horse I wanted. His name was Pete, he was a beautiful shade of deep burnt red. Don’t ask me what breed because I can’t really tell the difference save for a few very obvious coat patterns (who couldn’t spot an Appaloosa?) They gave me Pete for the first trail ride because they said they always gave newcomers Pete. That way, they could tell if the rider knew what they were doing without risking anything because, well, Pete was slow. They claimed not a soul on this earth could get Pete to move past a slow walk. Maybe a trot, if you’re lucky.

They just didn’t know how to guide him. By that point I had been exposed to the English theory of riding – on a western saddle, you steer using the reins; on an English saddle, you steer by pressing your thighs against the sides of the horse’s body. I tried steering Pete with the reins, urging him onward using typical western kicks. But still, nothing more than a slow leisurely clop-clop. Halfway up the foothills of the Huachuca mountains, I decided to give the English theory a try. Sure enough, Pete responded right away. The next hill we came to, two other riders wanted to gallop down the hill. I joined them, despite the guides’ jeering comments about Pete’s slow pace. Sure enough, I got Pete going down that hill, keeping up with the two other riders that flanked me. I loved him from that moment on.

Unfortunately, Pete and I had something in common – we were lacking in the health department. Pete had a bad back, and I had a bad foot. Pete died before I could sign the lease agreement, and shortly thereafter I ended up having a biopsy operation on my infected toe. That put an end to my horseback riding for a while. I went back after a while for one last trail ride, but now it’s been nearly four years since I’ve been on a horse. And I miss it.

I really wish I knew someone in the area who had horses, so I could just go play at their house from time to time. Now it seems the closest, most reasonable riding stable is all the way in North Carolina. Sure enough, it’s another military installation. I love the military for that; their MWR programs are so nice. Apparently at Fort Bragg you can ride free-range as well for only $12 an hour, so it’s the same deal as at Fort Huachuca, just different scenery. I’m thinking about going there for my birthday in February. What do you think? I’m thinking a whole return to the South would be fun for a change – a stop in North Carolina to see Chris and go horseback riding; on to Charleston, South Carolina to catch the sights; the final stop in Savannah, Georgia, because I’ve always wanted to see the architecture there.

Apart from that, I want to go back to Sierra Vista next October. I realized that I’m finally old enough to do something I’ve been wanting to do since I was thirteen years old. The stables at Fort Huachuca go on an annual ride every October to Tombstone. It’s a three day journey on horseback, across the mountain range, across the desert, riding right into the heart of the Old West. You set up camp outside of Tombstone, explore the town the next day, before returning home on the third. Unfortunately for me at the time, the rules required that you be at least 18 years old to go. This October, I want to go. I’m old enough now, and if I make my way to Fort Bragg enough to practice, I should be prepared enough to make the journey by then. Think of the cool pictures I could get from a trip like that, the memories.

Okay, I think I’ve babbled enough about this. I think I’m feeling long-winded today, sorry. 🙂

I went to see Lord of the Rings for the third time today. Kevin took me to see it and, I have to say, even the third viewing still had me in tears by the end. 🙂

Finally, and most importantly, my Mom has finished my gown for the New Years Eve dance tomorrow. Hoorah! I’m SO happy with it! It fits so perfectly and looks so flattering. I’ll be sure to take pictures tomorrow and post them here. I can’t wait to dance in it – the silk charmeuse floats and flurries around me like a cloud, it feels so beautiful against my legs when I move. I can’t wait for tomorrow, it’s going to be so much fun!