As I opened the door to the barn, I could smell the strong scent of hay and I heard a horse whinny. As soon as I saw a tall horse more than twice the size of me, a twist of nervousness formed inside me and I wondered how I would ever be able to ride that thing. As the councillors from the “Horse Camp” put the sattles on the horses and handed us our helmets. (I later learned that my horses name was Bailey.) We all walked our horses out of the big scarlet coloured barn and attempted to put their feet in the stirrups and hop on. I did end up getting on (with a little help) and one of the leaders tried to teach us how to steer, give them commands and ride around a few pylons.

When he finally told us to try it out I knew I was going to have a problem with my horse. Started to ride forwards a little. All was going great until I had to turn. I brought my reins to the right and my Bailey, as stubborn as he was, stayed put. So, as what most people would do, I tried again. I tried to go to the right and he went right to the left. Figures. I knew I would have trouble with him right from...
As the number 1 rule of the barn is to focus. I give the pick to Kim, and she diligently scrapes the dirt like it's an artwork. " Kim says Get me the Hoof clippers, " Almost without thinking My knuckles Pop bracing for what is to come. I hand the Clippers to Kim, She says Wait let me line them up. The moment I think it's lined up I start to squeeze, I hear the loud screams of " Fuck! Did I say go " As she Shakes my head like a rag doll out of frustration? Kim says . " go to grab me a beer " I race and trot like a horse to grab the beer and hope I am quick enough. But as I race back, I frightened the Horse Breaking Rule 1. The rules Of the Barn; approach the Horses Slowly And carefully. Be Always focused. Do not Speak without being spoken to. Do not squeeze Without being told to. Do as I say and Do it right. If You need it explained Again Expect a Loud Rant Be perfect 100% Of the time. Bam The sounds of crashing about the barn and screaming " Fuck stay still, " Echo the wooden
The dog is lying down with his ears perked up and his attention on the pig as it wanders by. There are three horse stalls on the left side with a hayloft above; the hay goes past the open doorway. In the middle stall resides a white horse. A horse saddle rests on the stall wall. Hanging from the post center are bridles, halters, bits and reins. Alone the left stalls a pitchfork leans the center stall. A wooden water barrel is located in the rear of the barn along the back wall. Each post has a diagonal support beams attached. Along the interior back wall is another set of double doors, these door are closed and secured. On the right side are three additional horse stalls. In front of the stalls leans a wooden ladder. The ladder allows for entry into the
Young, Rhoria Lee, and Maggie Bracher. "Horsemastership part 2: Physical, psychological, educational and social benefits." International Journal of Therapy & Rehabilitation 12.3 (2005): 120-125. Web. 8 Mar. 2011.
Training a horse to ride is hard work, it involves ground work, riding, and in both patience is very important. In the next few paragraphs I will be explaining the steps needed to train a horse.
In the beginning of the summer, the pony would not move at all or go really slow when asking him to run the barrel pattern. After many attempts of trying to get the pony to walk with me on top of him, he finally started to get more confidence and knew that I would not let him run into anything while on him. During training, the pony knew the arena well enough so he would not bump into anything. After building up speed and getting better times, I thought that we were back in barrel racing. I entered the pony and I in the minnesota rodeo.
Although, Shatto Stoli’s ankle wasn’t as swollen anymore, I had to train him in a more tender way. Every day starting at 6 in the morning and at 6 in the evening I fed him and made sure he was well hydrated. On Monday, Wednesday and Friday I trained him. Usually, I would take him to the back of the ranch and ride him myself, but since he was slightly injured I went slow on him and put him in the walker instead. For two weeks, I kept him in the walker. Surprisingly, Shatto Stoli’s ankle was looking way better so I decided to take him for a ride to the back. As I rode him, I said thought to myself “Oh man! Oh man! This horse is ready!” He was riding so smooth and clean I was certain he had a shot at winning first
Dancer was being stubborn rising on his hind legs. Although I got him to calm down, I knew he contained his stubborn attitude. I kick Dancers sides, making him gallop through the gate. We are headed for barrel one. I can feel the wind through my hair, my locks blowing in the wind. Dancer and I trot around barrel one; Dancer’s hoof’s circle the barrel. With every step that he takes I hope that he does not fall and collapse. We gallop to barrel two; Dancer trots around the barrel, safely we make it. I kick Dancer on the sides to make him go faster. We head to barrel three, at a rapid speed. As soon as Dancer was about to round the barrel, his back right leg hit the back of the barrel. From the compact, Dancer lost control and began to fall to the
I volunteered as a family pal at Camp Boggy Creek over the weekend of January 20th through 22nd, 2017. Located in Eustis Florida and founded by Paul Newman, Camp Boggy Creek is a 232-acre camp with a large lake for fishing, paddle boating, and kayaking, with an arts and crafts room and an archery station (CBC, 2017).
Sliding the barn doors open, I step into a warm, comforting environment. Musty straw mingles with the sharp aroma of pine shavings, complementing each other. A warm glow from sporadically placed incandescent lightbulbs richens the leather tack, all cleaned and hanging ready for the day's use. From it wafts the smell of a new pair of shoes. The fruity essence of "Show Sheen", applied after yesterday's baths, still lingers in the air. Even the harsh stinging scent of urine and manure is welcome at this early morning hour. Breaking open a bale of hay, I sense the sweetness of the dried timothy as it engulfs my olfactory system, making me wish my queasy stomach had not made me skip breakfast. I am nervous, as are many others. I know that the day ahead will bring excitement, dread, triumph, and defeat. The unpredictable nature of horse shows causes frenzied questions, like salmon spawning, to run constantly though my mind. Will the judge like my own particular style? What if the red flowers bordering the first jump spook my horse? What if a piece of paper on the ground blows into the ring? Will this horse show be a success? The outcome depends not just on me; but a...
"Overview: 'The Rocking-Horse Winner'." Short Stories for Students. Ed. Kathleen Wilson. Vol. 2. Detroit: Gale, 1997. Literature Resource Center. Web. 21 Feb. 2014.
I’m on a muddy, yellow bus coming back from camp. I'm twelve and so are you. Prior to leaving for camp, I had imagined it would be just me and three, maybe four, other boys that I hadn't met yet, running around all summer, getting ourselves into trouble. Playing games and just enjoying our summer. You know, typical boy stuff. Ultimately it ended up being me and this one girl. That's you. As long as we are still on the bus its like we are still at camp. Once we reach the pickup point where our parents would be waiting for us camp will be over.
His name is Smoke and he was the most beautiful, enormous horse I have ever seen. He was immediately intimidating with his jet black coat of sleek hair. My excitement to ride these mountains with him overcame all my fear. At first I was only able to stay on the saddle by holding onto the saddle horn. Not long after, I felt like I had ridden Smoke my whole life. It was dream-like as we trotted the trails with ease. I could never have chosen a more wonderful way to experience the beautiful Colorado mountains than astride this great horse. We rushed past the Aspen and Cottonwood trees. I caught the far off smell of campfires burning as we walked through fields of wildflowers. The scene laid out on all sides of me seemed to be a whole different
I awoke to the sun piercing through the screen of my tent while stretching my arms out wide to nudge my friend Alicia to wake up. “Finally!” I said to Alicia, the countdown is over. As I unzip the screen door and we climb out of our tent, I’m embraced with the aroma of campfire burritos that Alicia’s mom Nancy was preparing for us on her humungous skillet. While we wait for our breakfast to be finished, me and Alicia, as we do every morning, head to the front convenient store for our morning french vanilla cappuccino. On our walk back to the campsite we always take a short stroll along the lake shore to admire the incandescent sun as it shines over the gleaming dark blue water. This has become a tradition that we do every
When life is perfect there is this feeling of overwhelming smiles. Like I want to scream or yell just because my life is so incredibly perfect. I felt this way the summer of 2002 at Lutherdale Bible Camp. But what is weird is that I don't know what makes it so perfect. Like what is the real difference from here to there? There I have this feeling of being so incredibly close to everything. As opposed to being to being in the real world, hearing and seeing what really goes on. When I was at camp I feel like I am really special. Like people wanted me to be there, and want to get to know me and just want to be around me. Of course I have plenty of friends and family at my house, but the people there are somewhat different. They make it seem like I am important.