We'll All Meet Back At The Local Saloon

When I was about 12, I went to a summer day camp at a horse farm. We got to ride every day, and my horse for the week was beautiful, black with a white diamond on her nose, and her name was Tasha. Not only did I discover I was allergic to horses that week, I also found out that I loved them.

For the most part, I haven't been on a horse since. Part of my dream honeymoon included horseback riding on the beach, but that wasn't really an option at our Varadero resort, or anywhere nearby. The best I got was a short trail ride in the woods on what looked more like a sad cross between a donkey and a pony.

I was excited to ride again. It was a bit costly, but I found a package deal with the ropes course that had the ziplining, so it wasn't so bad.

Because there was only two of us and the guide, we got much longer than the 45 minutes we paid for, almost twice as long. The trail was beautiful, I had a very nice horse that was just the perfect balance of following the others while still doing what I asked. I was definitely getting a little sore by the last half hour or so, so I was ready to be done in that aspect, but it was so nice to just get out and ride. The two other ladies were nice, we chatted most of the way, although I did plenty of listening as usual. I didn't mind, I was just enjoying the time with the horse.

It's an expensive hobby (sport?), and I hope someday I can afford to go more often, because it's almost the perfect combination of time with an animal while being outdoors. Love it.