Cowgirl Dreaming

I have loved horses since I was a little girl. My favorite toy was a horse figurine that all my other toys spent hours riding through the hills and valleys of my bedroom. I would always end that game fantasizing about my own future as a rancher's wife, when I would get to spend my days riding horses and lazing in beautiful green meadows while my beloved horse grazed on wildflowers nearby. Interestingly, the chores and hard labor of being a horsewoman never made it into my fantasy. As I got older, though, a crew of handsome cowboys started showing up, leaning on perfectly clean rakes and admiring me as my horse and I appeared through the haze of twilight with wildflowers braided into our mane and hair.

Wild imagination? You know it.
Did I wish with all my being it would come true? You know it.

When I was 13 I asked my parents for a horse. I even tried bargaining with them about the future of all birthdays and Christmases: "if you buy me a horse, you never ever have to buy me another present ever in my life. Ever."

I continued getting lovely gifts for all major holidays, but never that beloved horse.

Considering how much I love horses, it's pretty sad that I've only gone riding 3 times in my life:

The first time was at girl scout camp when I was 7, which I "remember" only because there are pictures.

The second time was in Wickenburg during some lawyer convention my parents attended when I was 11, and I remember that trail ride primarily because the guide let us canter through a wide open field, which was the BEST THING EVER to me at the time.

The third time was yesterday, a whole 16 years since my last joy ride. My mom gave me two trail ride coupons for my birthday, and it only took us nearly 2 months to redeem them. But we wanted to wait till the weather was perfect, which in the desert can take a while.

The MTM Ranch is way out in Cave Creek, so the drive took us about an hour. By the time we got there I was pretty nervous; the pessimist in me kept picturing the nasty spill I was terrified of taking. But the giddy cowgirl wannabe inside me won out, and after signing my life away (my mom and I signed waivers stating our choice not to wear riding caps. We're wild women!), I hoisted myself onto the back of an ancient-looking dapple gray named Badger. After Badger sated his thirst and had himself a little playtime in the water trough (most hilarious thing ever), we set off into the desert with our friendly and talkative trail guide, Joe.  


When Joe wasn't regaling us with stories from his own childhood, he provided us with bits of western trivia:
               John Wayne hated horses.
               The Roy Rogers restaurant chain is named for a cowboy tv actor.
               Gene Autry wrote "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer."

The trail ride was 2 hours long, but I could have stayed out there with Badger all day. I find horseback riding so peaceful...even the bumpy clip-clopping of my horse's steady gait couldn't detract from the joy of riding under an azure sky full of fluffy white clouds, while a cool breeze blew across the landscape.


Mom, Chloe, Joe



Me, Badger, Joe

The whole drive home, my mom sang "The rain is Tess, the fire's Joe, and they call the wind Mariah," which is a song from an old cowboy musical movie. I've decided that Mariah is my official cowgirl name, which would make my mom Tess.

The most amazing thing? I'm not that sore today! I guess there is something to the whole "keeping your heels down" and "moving with the horse" and all the other horse riding etiquette they teach you. That, and lots of Advil and muscle relaxers to stave off the worst of the muscle pain!

My mom and I are both already talking about our next trail ride.

Happy trails to you!!