Personal Narrative: How To Fall Off A Horse

There are many ways that you can fall off a horse. You can fall with grace, dismount with style, and take a digger with dignity. You can also land face first in the sand, landing in such a way that can be best described as a stingray. I was the stingray on that fine July evening. I have also been described as the disgraceful dismount, the grit toothed wonder, and the dirt consultant. Most people say you have to fall off seven times before you are considered a true rider, if that was the case I would be an equestrian extraordinaire.
It was a warm July evening. Training Centers at the Barron County Fairgrounds had gone off without a hitch. To close off the night, we decided to showcase some of our hunter jumper skills. My friend Sierra, my sister
That little five year old is now twelve years old. Instead of a little POA of unknown breeding, she is now riding a green appendix mare who is five years old , 16.1 hands tall, and has some of the most recognizable breeding in the Quarter Horse world. The mare is known for her temper flare-ups, on the ground and under saddle. If she doesn’t want to do something she is going to tell you in the most dramatic way she can, often sending that little twelve year old for much more than eight seconds. There has only been one time when she has been successful in her temper tantrums. It was a slightly chilly Sunday morning. Mo and I were warming up for our Hunt Seat classes at the Rein and Shine WSCA Show. Whenever we would go near the gate she would drift, causing us to cut multiple people off. After the fourth or fifth time doing this, her actions became more violent. She began to drift to the gate and then kick my sister’s horse for no apparent reason. I got after her a bit and returned to the rail, thinking that the next round couldn’t be any worse. Boy was I wrong. The next time we came around she kicked a stranger’s horse and turned quick on her hindquarters to the left. She then began to rear up, getting higher with each go she took. I flew off her left side, a girth that had been loosened had been my downfall. When I looked at her from the ground, my saddle was firmly stuck to her side, ready to be reset. After the saddle was reset, I was back in the saddle and ready to give Mo a piece of my mind. Thankfully, I’ve stuck the whole eight seconds on every ride she has given me since then. Sometimes, I even get a