Recently, a gal I know through the local trail show circuit asked me to go on a poker ride. We'd never ridden together, but I've watched her compete at the shows for years, so I know she's a sensible, safe rider with a wonderful, calm Arab gelding. Needless to say, I was excited about the trip.
Since the ride was in Yamhill, the plan was for me to pick her up in Salem on the way. The night before the trip, I planned for an early morning:
- 5:15 a.m.: Wake up.
- 6:00 a.m.: Leave the house.
- 6:30 a.m.: Arrive at the barn to hitch the trailer and load Maxine.
- 7:15 a.m.: Back on the road again.
- 8:45 a.m.: Arrive at Tiffany's barn.
Unfortunately, this is how my morning actually went:
- 5:46 a.m.: Bolt out of bed when I realize that my cell phone alarm didn't go off (because it defaults to Mon-Fri).
- 6:30 a.m: Leave the house.
- 6:45 a.m.: Realize I left my trailer keys at home and turn around.
- 7:00 a.m.: Leave the house--again.
- 7:30 a.m.: Arrive at the barn where I slip and trip on every possible hole while I hitch up the trailer and load Maxine.
- 8:00 a.m.: Text my Tiffany to let her know that I'll be late, then hit the road.
- 9:30 a.m.: Arrive at her barn 45 minutes late. Ugh!
As we were traveling on a back road between Salem and Newberg, we saw a man with a bike standing by the side of the road. He had a full black plastic bag sticking across the white line into the road. Normally, this wouldn't be a big deal, but there happened to be a bus coming from the other direction at the same time. There was also a sedan about 70 yards in front of us.
As we chatted about the man's poor decision for being in the road, I sped up a hair so that I could pass him before the bus reached us. I was watching my mirror to make sure I cleared the cyclist when Tiffany calmly hollered, "Car!" The sedan in front of us was stopping to make a left-hand turn!
Letting out a squeak, I hit the brakes and watched us plow into the sedan--in my mind. Fortunately, the bus passed and the car turned in the nick of time. As I let off the brakes, I heard one of the animals stumble in the trailer. One of the horses had been caught off balance, but there wasn't any further scrambling, so we continued on to our destination.
When we arrived at the ranch, Tiffany led her horse, Legacy, out of the trailer. As she walked past, I noticed some blood on his leg. He had scrapped both his back and front legs on the divider that was between him and Max in my trailer (it's a full divider that goes nearly to the floor). As a result, he had an 8-inch surface wound on his front leg and a 2-inch surface wound on his back leg.
I apologized profusely and went straight for the Neosporin. Thankfully, Tiffany is a calm gal and quietly doctored the wounds without needling me about the situation.
Then, when I went to pull Max from the trailer, I noticed that there was blood higher up on the divider. I went back around to check and sure enough, he'd cut his lip as well. It wasn't a bad cut, but I was still heartbroken. I know I'm a safe driver, and I know that things happen, but I still felt horrible.
Fortunately, Tiffany was a good sport. She took care of his lip and we laughed at the irony of this being such a great start to our first trip together. I told her I'd understand if she never wanted me to drive Legacy again!
I'm glad to report that my luck changed at that point and the rest of the ride was fabulous! It was definitely the most challenging ride I've ever been on--lot's of steep, muddy hills--and Maxine handled it like a pro. Plus, Tiffany got along great and we're definitely going to go riding again soon.
Photo: Me and Max take a break during the poker ride.
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