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Show Counting on ourselves C to get back in the saddle j IDC 1 grassroots i ,iilie rv H .,slo 'r Johns, ,! By BECKI GRASS JOHNSON "I'm kind of afraid of horses now," I nervously laughed. "Guess I've really grown into a city slicker!" After all, who was I trying to kid? The last time I rode a horse, Richard Nixon was president. "You'll do okay," Dad said as he readjusted the stirrups, then fastened a leather pack to the back of the saddle. It should have put my pounding heart at ease. I had to remind myself that I'd grown up on a farm with horses. We had ridden horses to round up cattle, pull hay wagons and check irrigation dams. I can't even remember a time when our family didn't have horses. "Atta girl," I patted Tar on the nose and spoke to her in my most confident tone. She rubbed her bridled head against my jacket, knocking me back a step. Then a breeze picked up and she shook her ears and snorted. "A horse can always tell if you're scared," Dad used to say. I looked Tar squarely in the eye and prayed that she wouldn't feel how shaky my legs were against the saddle. I was only a baby the first time I rode a horse and Mom's scrapbook is filled with snapshots of us kids riding horses when we weren't even old enough to tie our own shoes. I remember the feeling of Dad's strong arms swinging me up into the saddle and how big I felt when I trailed behind him on horseback to herd cattle. Dad had always taught that it's important to let the horse know who's the boss. "If a horse ever throws you, you pick yourself up, dust yourself off and get right back on," he instructed. in-structed. I'd had my share of being thrown. I remember well the sensation of catching the ground with the seat of my pants and how bad it hurt to have a horse stand on the toe of my shoe. Occasionally I had experienced the pinch of big teeth when they missed the sugar cube and caught a finger instead. But it had never stopped me from riding. "Let's go," Dad said as he mounted his horse and headed northward into the wind. I gave Tar a little kick in the sides and she quickly followed the lead. We traveled across a vast stretch of sand dunes and into the sagebrush and hills of the Idaho wilderness. For a while it seemed that our only connection with civilization was the droning of distant motorcycles and as I watched the wind swirl away the hoof prints from the sand, I wondered won-dered what was so very different now. What had happened to me? There is something about the wind in Idaho. It can playfully tug at a-1 hair one minute and the next it k icily through every layer of , clothing. The wind picked up 1 1 Tar pranced with excitement. ! I held the bridle more tightly a looked back across the Snake fc ' t Valley. For a few minutes I felt as" I had been transported to anotU time and place; a place fara; from the sophisticated world I come to know. For the most part I have comet learn that if I turn the key in t ignition, the car will start. If I pu-1 the right buttons, the dishwasfc will wash the pots and pans, ft the milk and cereal is gone I simp: pick up more at the store. j In a world with the facade i certainty, I've found it easier toa "I can't" than to simply "pit! myself up, dust myself off and gt back on." Perhaps it wasn't a fear of horn after all . . . it may be It-realization It-realization that of all the things i learn to count on, we'd better lear , to count on ourselves. Suddenly wondered how many dreams k M withered and blown away because didn't get back in the saddle. How often had I waited for strtni arms to lift me when I hadn't Ira climbing myself? I thought of fe times when I waited for others 5 render service, give encourageme or take a stand, when all the time tie power was within me to make i difference. Tar looked surprised when S kicked her with more force as urged her into a gallop and fa: run. The sand and sagebrus! became a blur. I had found my wings. Dad didn't say much as brushed down the horses and loafe them into the trailer. Thehorseste lost their spryness in the work 6 and I knew that I would be walkiri funny for a few days. I rubbed Tar's nose as I led her: the trailer and she gave meant derstanding look like she had taw all along. "I'm ready to go home now, said. Dad just nodded his head t smiled. |