Here is a blog from last year.  It explains why I refuse to go on the guided horseback trip that is offered here at Adams Camp.  I wrote this last July, and I still get the nerves when I think about it....

Ok....Go:

FACT: I said I was going to give daily blogs from camp.

FACT: I lied.

FACT: I did in fact work on another blog while I was at camp.

FACT: It took me a long time to type it.

FACT: I did not save it.

FACT:  My Space ate it.

FACT: I was mad.

FACT: Really mad.

FACT: My blog was about what happened on my second day of camp.

FACT: I will try to the best of my ability to recreate that blog.

FACT: After reading my day 1 blog about camp I felt a little guilty about my feelings toward Mother Nature.

FACT: I decided to give her another chance.

FACT: My aim for my second day of camp was to do something "out-door-sey" to try and bridge the gap between me and the wild.

FACT: I signed up myself, and my five year old son, Riley on an hour and a half guided horseback ride through the Rockies.

FACT: When telling my son of our upcoming adventure he was really excited.

FACT: For one brief Whitney Houston "Moment in Time" I was father of the year.

FACT: Although I was a bit nervous about what we were going to do I was really excited to do some dad/son bonding.

FACT: I had not been on a horse for over fourteen years so I decided that it was time to try it again.

FACT: That was a really stupid decision.

FACT: Really, really stupid.

FACT: Really.

FACT: Stupid.

FACT: Me and my son showed up a little late for the group ride.

FACT: I was wearing a sweet cowboy hat I got at the Bon Jovi concert a few days before camp.

FACT: I looked awesome.

FACT: Fine…I looked kinda awesome.

FACT: OK!! I looked like a guy who had never really worn a cowboy hat before.

FACT:  Since I was late I breezed through the liability forms without really reading what I was signing.

FACT: Apparently I marked the box that said I was an "expert" rider.

FACT: That was not a good move on my part.

FACT: I was assigned a large brown horsey with a very racially inappropriate name.

FACT: I asked the horse master named "Russ" if that horribly insensitive word was really the horse's name.

FACT: It was.

FACT: No…I will not repeat it here. 

FACT: I found out from grouchy Russ that the proper term for the ranch boss is not "horse master".

FACT: I asked Russ jokingly is the horse bit.

FACT: He said "not today"

FACT: I laughed nervously.

FACT: Russ did not.

FACT: You should never tell a five year old boy that the horse he is about to get on has an appetite for human blood.

FACT: Russ asked me if I meant to check the box on my form that said I was a horse riding expert.

FACT: I said "um..no..oops"

FACT: I asked if that answer dictated what kind of horse I got.

FACT: Russ spat his tobaccy and nodded affirmative at the same time.

FACT: I was kind of impressed by that.

FACT: I asked the horse master if it was too late to change horses.

FACT: Russ pointed out that everyone else had already gotten on their horse and was just waiting on me and Riley.

FACT: For the first time I started wondering if this was a bad idea.

FACT: When I made eye contact with the horse that shall not be named I tried to give it a soft smile.

FACT:  The horse gave me the "Welcome to the Cell Block New Fish" look.

FACT: My son asked if we could pet the horse.

FACT: Russ said "Better not…he is kinda jittery today".

FACT: Next thing I knew I was being escorted to the side of the horse to be named later.

FACT: Russ wanted me to put my left foot in the stirrup and pull myself up.

FACT: The stirrup was about five feet in the air.

FACT: I am 5'3.

FACT: Whatever…fine….I am 5'2.

FACT: I tried to explain that it was impossible for me to stretch my wee legs high enough to get my foot secured.

FACT: Russ looked as if I had just asked him in the Vulcan language if he liked the cut of my jib.

FACT: I then gave up on trying to explain how this was not going to happen.  I gave it the old college try.

FACT: I think I could only raise my foot about 14 inches off the ground.

FACT: While I was desperately flaying my leg against the most politically incorrectly named horse ever I then felt something very strange in my hind quarters.

FACT: Apparently Russ had noticed I was not going to "get er done" and decided to help me by putting his rope-callused hands on my bum and pushing as hard as he could.

FACT: Russ now knows me in a way I never thought he would.

FACT: While I appreciated the effort by the very forward horse master his approach just was not really helping matters.

FACT: Instead of being lifted up onto the horse, I was basically just being mushed up against the 900 pound beast. 

FACT: Jittery horse did not like this.

FACT: At all.

FACT: After a bit of tush pushing Russ acknowledged that we needed a new plan of attack.

FACT: He went at got a small ladder that was two feet away.

FACT: Um…yes two feet away.

FACT: I will never know for the life of me why he did not think of that in the first place.

FACT:  With the help of the ladder I got my foot in the stirrup.

FACT: Russ then told me to swing my other leg over the horse with no name.

FACT: With every ounce of strength and courage I could gather I swung my other leg over the animal.

FACT: As I did this there was a loud bang in the background.

FACT: It was not the sound of thunder…

FACT: It was my hamstring exploding.

FACT: I hurt.

FACT: I wanted to cry like a six year old boy whose mama hid his favorite blankly named "Sasha"

FACT: Yes, I am projecting a bit here.

FACT: Once I was seated on the horse and the pain faded I started to feel a bit manly.

FACT: My macho meter went up two notched as I began to feel like the Marlboro man.

FACT: I tipped my hat at Russ.

FACT: He spat and stared back at me awkwardly.

FACT: The horse I believe said under his breath "You just wait idiot".

FACT: A moment later my son was lifted up to join me in the saddle.

FACT: Once he was set the tour began.

FACT: As we started trotting out into the dark woods I had a feeling that maybe this would exactly the experience both me and my little guy needed.

FACT: I was wrong.

FACT: Dead.

FACT: Wrong.

FACT: At right around 11:55 my son turned around and said "This is the best, I love this"

FACT: At right around 12:03 my son announced that he wanted to be off the horse now.

FACT: At this point we still had 75 more minutes to go.

FACT:  With about 60 minutes left in the ride my son gives up and goes limp.

FACT: For a great period of time I had to direct the horse with one hand, while holding my son who was a bowl of now sobbing jelly.

FACT: A couple minutes later my son screamed "I Hate This Horse!"

FACT: Once hearing this proclamation from my boy the horse became enraged and started full on galloping.

FACT: My bladder control entered "optional" mode.

FACT: I started becoming afraid.

FACT: The horse smelled my fear.

FACT: The next 54 minutes was spent trying to keep my son from jumping off the horse, trying to keep horribly named horse from galloping into the woods, and trying not to cry in front of my son, the horse, and a really ticked off Russ the horse master.

FACT: Wow…this blog is way too long.

FACT: Time to wrap it up…

FACT: You should never lead a guided horse trail up a really steep grade.

FACT: Or down one.

FACT: Or on a really narrow walkway on a cliff.

FACT: If the jittery horse really was feeling depressed and wanted to take us all with us alls he would have had to have done is to take a step to the right.

FACT: I prayed to the patron saint of psychotic horses that we would survive.

FACT: We did.

FACT:  My truce with Mother Nature did not….