We needed to detour from our planned loop due to the amount of ice on the trail in some cool, protected areas. Rather than risk someone slipping and being injured, we decided to head back via the road. Harley was leading the way, albeit like a giraffe, craning his head in the air, and with a springy walk bordering on a a prance. But he and Rolex seemed to be doing fine until some kids playing behind a house sent Rolex into a tailspin. Before anyone could get tossed to the pavement, we jumped off. But I'm not so sure we were any safer with both horses spinning around in circles. And the worst part is the lack of courtesy and caution on the part of drivers. Some barely slow down, and some hardly leave enough room should one of the horses wheel into the road. Isn't it common sense if you see an animal, the size of a moose, prancing in the street to slow down? Where is the common sense in these drivers? How did they manage to pass their drivers' test if they have no clue about driving near horses?
Harley and Rolex faced other demons as we made our way home: barking dogs running along a fence, donkeys, chickens, and the piece de resistance, a flock of guinea fowl that emerged, squawking up a storm. Unlike the chickens and turkeys our horses are used to, guinea fowl tend to screech, unnerving both Harley and Rolex. Mr. and Mrs. Prancypants had worked themselves into a dither where every little thing had them wheeling in circles.
Our horses were in a lather, our arms were soaked from walking alongside with our sweating steeds. My feet were beginning to get damp and slide around in my Mountain Horse insulated boots. I could feel blisters starting to form on the bottoms of my toes. If I'd known I'd be walking three miles, I would definitely have worn different boots. So word of warning to all you trail riders out there: only ride out as far as you are willing to walk!
