A family vacation to South Dakota included horseback riding in the Badlands. We arrived at the barn just in time for the last guided ride. They tried to assign the horses according to skill level but most of my family and the two women campers joining us had never ridden. We were instructed to keep the horses focused on the one in front of us and to stay on the trail.
The ride was amazing, through a beautiful canyon with the sun setting over the badlands. Suddenly one of the women lost control of her horse and it galloped off with her screaming and holding on to the saddle horn. Her friend tried to help and ended up in the same situation. Our son thought it looked like fun and galloped off across the countryside having the time of his life. My oldest daughter’s horse decided to take a short cut down the side of a steep ravine. My husband followed and found himself in an almost rear end collision with her because she fearfully pulled back and stopped in the middle of the descent. She told me later that she didn’t know horses could go downhill. Our other daughter’s horse just wandered around in a circle. The most I could manage was to keep my horse at a dead stop while watching the ensuing chaos.
Our guide turned around and scanned the horizon trying to account for all his riders. He rode up beside me and with a slow cowboy twang said, “I seem to have lost control of my ride”. I agreed whole heartedly and asked him what he intended to do about it. He began to walk his horse slowly along the trail back toward the barn. My daughter’s horses immediately fell in line behind him. My husband and son followed and the two women soon joined us as their horses refused to be left behind. We arrived at the barn with no evidence of what had taken place. Although, the other wrangler did mention that it must have been hotter than he thought because the horses seemed a little lathered up.
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