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The horse: “Equus Caballus.” A most magnificent animal. In days long past they carried royalty through the lands and armies into battles. They were the source of eloquent dreams and fantastic tales. Its size, its power, its spirit. The lone stallion standing proud on the ridge top. His herd grazing peacefully behind. His mane flowing in the wind. His ears alert, his nostril flaring, his eyes sharp and focused. What animal can arouse more passion in a person? For no greater or more graceful animal has befriended man. The elephant, the donkey, the camel, the ox: all powerful animals, yet all wreak of a hideous appearance or a clumsy demeanor. The horse remained powerful and beautiful and still an ally to man.
One of the most frightful and most thrilling experiences of my life has been a bareback ride on
Baby. I remember sitting on him, with nothing but a rope tied to his halter. The field lay ahead. Baby had a spot on the far corner he liked running to. I knew what was coming. The adrenaline would build. I grabbed the rope and a good piece of mane with both hands. I leaned my body forward and legs back, jockey style. I’d whisper, “Go Baby, Go” in his ear and squeeze with my legs, ever so gently…I could feel the blood fill his muscles. His whole body would tense as he exploded into a gallop. “Go Baby, GO!” I’d shout and squeeze harder. He would explode again with amazing power into a full gallop. I could hear the ground echo his hoof beats. “Ba-RUMP!” went his gait. Baby ran with all his might, for the pure joy of running. He ran because he could and because it felt good. I was only along for the ride, holding on for dear life. There was no form to my riding. The hell with standing up straight! The hell with soft hands! The hell with heals down! Riding a youthful stallion at full gallop bareback is an exercise in balance of body and passion of mind. The fence approached and Baby saw. I had no control. He knew it was coming, but he didn’t slow. I braced myself. I could feel a slight lean in his body. He was going to the left. I leaned as well. His turn was sharp and steep. But we were one. Sometimes I thought he would do his runs to show me how powerful he really was, to show me he was stronger. Perhaps, but it was fine with me. It was a compromise between his nature and my will. Those days are past. My fear is too great. But I will always hold that image of pure wild power, unrestrained.
And so it is man’s ability to partake in the glory of the horse that endears them to our hearts. The fear of that power entrances us. Their willingness to share it binds us.
Come forth, good man, and see
The beast I created for thee
Strong legs with power to spare
Step forth, good man, if you dare!
His back you will grace
But look good at his face
No matter your purpose, no matter your aim
His great spirit, my child, you can’t tame.
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