The Buck

      It was a pleasant June day by Louisiana weather standards. It was warm, but definitely bearable for anyone who has lived here and is used to the weather at this time of year. I was saddling up Mistral for my annual trail ride. When we moved to Covington from Kenner, I thought I was going to turn into a cowboy. For my first Christmas in the country I wanted western boots, a hat, and jacket. I pictured myself riding horses daily and herding cattle and all the other stuff you see on TV. It didn't take long for me to dump that wardrobe and continue playing baseball rather than tend to my mule. So now my equine activities consisted of around one ride per year when there was nothing else to do on that particular day. My mother was tacking up her horse Poco. He was the dream horse. Just perfect. Exactly what she has been looking for. It had been six months since the crash, and she had ridden him a few times in the yard, but this was going to be the first time taking him outside the fence. I guess that was my main motivation for deciding to tag along on this ride. Of course there was nothing else to do, but I did want to be there for the first real ride after the accident.

      Our neighbors Dan and Crystal were in route to our house via horseback. They were going to join us on our little adventure through the trails. Crystal had just got a new horse named Shakespeare and Dan was on his trusty friend Roulette. The offer to swap horses with Crystal was put on the table so I could see how the new horse in the neighborhood rode. Usually when I ride, Mistral is the only one I'll saddle up with. For only bonding once every 365 days, we have formed a pretty good relationship. And he's like driving a Cadillac on a freshly surfaced road. When he trots, your butt literally doesn't come out of the seat. But, for whatever reason, I decided that today I was going to be Mr. Adventurous Cowboy and see what this new dude was all about. So, the four of us set off on the endless trails to bond with friends and connect with nature.

      It was about as pleasurable as it could be for me. I wasn't starting to regret the decision just yet, but it wasn't exactly my idea of a good time either. Who I really felt bad for was the horses. Horseflies are always bad at this time of year, but today they were horrendous, by far the worst I had ever seen. As humans, there isn't a spot on our body where we cannot swat away a flying insect, but for a horse they only have a tail and mouth to defend themselves from the useless bloodsuckers. They can twitch their skin in the area where these two defense mechanisms can't reach. That usually works for your standard fly, but when a horsefly latches on it takes more than that to detach the little vampires. All four horses were male, and a frequent target for these horseflies was the you-know-what area (the male's most sensitive region). The horses were stomping, swatting with their tails, nipping with their lips, shaking their skin, and just getting down right pissed off. Because of the bombarding our buddies were enduring we decided to turn around early and call it a day. Before we headed back I jumped off my horse, handed the reins to Dan and stepped into the woods to relieve myself. As I was zipping up my trousers and turning to head off on the second half of our hike I heard the yell.

      When I turned around to see what was going on I saw Poco jumping up and down and using his rear hoofs to try and paw at his genital region. It was obvious that he had a big one latched on and he could not withstand any more pain or blood loss. I don't think his intention was to buck off my mom, but regardless of what he was trying to do she made an involuntary dismount and fell hard to the ground. Just like the crash, it was probably only two or three seconds, but watching it felt like an eternity. The red clay had replaced the damp grass of the ditch beneath my mother, but here we were back in the same situation. This time was much less dramatic thankfully, but no easier to handle. All she could say was that it hurt and she couldn't get up. She was very calm about it. I guess for her the situation was more tolerable this time because she recognized the pain and knew it would heal. The first time was pure panic because of an unknown future. Regardless, her back was again broken and we were back to square one.

      Dan's idea was for the two of us to run back on the horses and get his four-wheeler then come back to get my mom. As in control as I was during the crash, I wasn't afforded the opportunity to take control this time. I had the reins of Shakespeare back in my hand. In response to Dan's recommendation my mom said, "Y'all don't have to do that. I have my cell phone. I can call your dad and he can come get me in the truck." Dan and Roulette were already galloping away. Pasture mates get buddy sour and one horse doesn't like to watch the other run away. Well how lucky was I to be holding the reins of Roulette's pasture buddy as he created a dust storm down the trail. I was thinking that mom's idea sounded much more reasonable than the alternative, but the pressure on the reins was either about to rip them free from my grip or drag me alongside the horse if I refused to let go. I don't claim to be a cowboy, but this next move was some real John Wayne shit. I took off running along side Shakespeare until I was able to grab the horn of the saddle, which was about eye level at least. With one hand on the horn I made one smooth, swift motion and was perfectly seated in the saddle better than Zoro himself could have done it. That was the fun and exciting part. Riding this beast was not. Compared to Mistral's Cadillac like grace, Shakespeare was a dump truck. A really fast dump truck. I more than considered bailing as I searched for the softest landing area. I decided against the suicidal jump and tried to ride it out. One hand was pulling back the reins as hard as possible while the other had a death grip on the horn. I could already feel cramps in my forearms as blisters began to form on my hands. The horse had no regard for what he was barreling through. I was bobbing and weaving, ducking and leaning, moving side to side to avoid the branches that were waiting to unseat me. With the slightest relief on the reins I could feel Shakespeare dig his hooves deeper into the dirt and accelerate. As scared as I was, I paused for a moment to admire the raw horse power that these animals possess. And all the while, as I struggle to stay on, I look over at Dan who has one hand on the reins and the other relaxed by his side. "How's it going buddy?" he asked. I couldn't even open my mouth to speak. I tried to say, "Slow down!" but it obviously didn't come out right, because we didn't slow down.

      I've been on planes, trains, roller-coasters, and ridden with crazy drivers, but this was the very first time I felt the need to kiss the ground after safely arriving somewhere. We dismounted the horsepower with a brain and jumped onto the horsepower with an engine. I like horsepower that cannot think for itself. Although the ride back down the same trail was equally as chaotic, not a bit of anxiety ran through my nerves. The ATV has brakes, an accelerator, and handlebars, all of which is controlled by a human, not making its own decisions. Come to find out, Dan admitted that he was panicking the entire time, scared that he was going to wreck us. I was straddling the back of the seat totally in my element, just as relaxed as he had been on the horse. We arrived back at the scene of the accident just as my dad was helping my mom get into the truck. Speechless. That is what I was then, and that's what I am now. There are no words to describe how I felt. I wasn't mad, there was no one to be mad at. I wasn't disappointed or upset or sad or discouraged. I surely wasn't happy. I was just speechless. I couldn't believe I had gone through all of that effort for nothing. I was just emotionally and physically ready to collapse.

      Looking back on it, we can't help but laugh. The thrill ride on the four legs followed by the ride on the four wheels is funny to us now. At the time it was far from comical. My mom didn't go to the hospital that night. She just strapped on the brace and dealt with the pain. She did go to see her doctor and get more scans done. The spine was indeed broken again. What raised interest was that it broke in a different spot, and the fall wasn't as severe as the crash. It was bad enough to re-fracture the original break, but not create an entirely new one. As maybe you can guess, she was diagnosed with osteoporosis and must administer a shot into her own leg daily.

      The year 2010 was unquestionably trying on our family. Our patience was tested, and our resolve was challenged. We withstood life's attempt to break us down. We passed this cruel test. For me it serves as a great lesson that I will undoubtedly remember for the rest of my life. It is just one of many trials and tribulations that we must journey through in the battle of life.