You Said It: ‘My fa­vorite child­hood mem­ory in­volv­ing horses.’

You share your fa­vorite child­hood mem­ory of rid­ing and hors­ing around.

Horse & Rider - - Table Of Contents -

Rode a pa­rade horse! At the an­nual Lodi, Cal­i­for­nia, pa­rade 60 years ago, a kindly man hoisted me up to sit on his beau­ti­ful palomino. For that few min­utes I felt the pa­tient, easy breath­ing of my “first love.” Hooked ever since, I now own a cat­tle ranch and the ex­cel­lent horses Sis Is Smart and Poco Cac­tus Kid.

Linda Pren­tiss, Es­tralita Springs Ranch Co., Cal­i­for­nia

Raced the horses through the for­est with a boy from school, then rode un­til late at night, to the top of the mountain. Sat and looked at the stars above and the twin­kling lights of the town in the val­ley be­low.

Ca­role Zun­del, Idaho

Gal­loped my in­trepid

pony mare un­der a tree as I reached up and grabbed a branch, as I’d seen my TV- cow­boy he­roes do when they needed to dis­mount quickly. Then I fell and broke my arm.

Carol Matthews, Ore­gon

Gal­loped all the way up a long hill, then jumped over an old pic­nic ta­ble.

Ter­i­lyn Berg­son, Cal­i­for­nia

Went horse- camp­ing in the moun­tains for a week with my ju­nior- rider group. We hit a dif­fer­ent trail ev­ery day. It was heaven.

Jo Mitchell, Washington

Rode my very first time on our neigh­bors’ lit­tle Paint mare, Quee­nie. With ev­ery­one look­ing up at me, I’ll never for­get how tall and proud I felt. I still feel that way on a horse.

Lori J. Michaels, Wis­con­sin

Waited out­side the pony-ride place at the fair for an hour be­fore the rides started, just so I could be the first kid to go.

El­iz­a­beth Wead­ick, Illi­nois

Swam my Quar­ter Horse mare in the river with a bunch of my horselov­ing friends. We did it bare­back, and were care­ful not to get wa­ter in our horses’ ears. So much fun!

Marie Judge, Kansas

Rode for the first time at my dad’s friend’s place in Ok­la­homa. The horse was an old mare that hadn’t spooked in years. That was also the first time I was thrown from a horse.

Eve­lyn Gil­breath, Mis­souri

Ar­rived at the front of a pony-ride line to have my mom un­ex­pect­edly ask if I could ride the black horse. The man re­ar­ranged the horses ac­cord­ingly. I was in heaven… as I was to­tally in love with “Fury” at the time.

Joan Bes­sette, Rhode Is­land

Rel­ished the calm­ness of sim­ply walk­ing Blackie, a lit­tle black Quar­ter Pony, around the barn on ex­tremely hot sum­mer days. I was just 11, and those quiet mo­ments with him made me more se­cure about my life. Jo­ley Wil­liams,

West Vir­ginia

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