Fish Out of Water

So it was proven to me a couple weeks ago that I am working in the right department.  It was a slow day on the river with not many trips scheduled for the guides.  I found out the day before that I didn't have a trip and found out that a couple of the ranch hands, Spencer and Zach, and one of the wranglers, another Spencer, were heading up the Soda Creek drainage to do some trail clearing on horseback.  On paper, this sounded like a good idea.  I hadn't done much horseback riding up to that point.  In fact, it wasn't since the first week I was here that I had even thought about riding a horse and before this year, I could count on one hand the amount of times I had taken the sheltered, lazy ride that most horseback riding operations offer in my entire lifetime.  But why not.  It seemed like a good way to spend a work day.  Mix things up a bit.  Try something new.  Spend time with a few good dudes.  Maybe have some laughs.  I'm all about new experiences.

Like an idiot, I went to the bar for open mic night and got all sorts of liquored up.  Abnormally so.  And if you've never partied up at 9,000 feet, the altitude is relentlessly unforgiving to the one extra shot of Wild Turkey that seemed like a good idea at the time.  I wake up nice and early the next day.  I haven't quite received the pounding that is inevitable when you drink like a moron.  Overall, at this point, I didn't feel that bad, especially after a delicious breakfast sandwich that I am known to concoct at the employee dining room.  Everything bagel, cream cheese, eggs and bacon.  You really can't go wrong.  Post breakfast, I was told that we were leaving in 15 minutes and that I should go and get my gear and a sturdy pair of denims and meet back at the barn.  What I found out upon my arrival was we were planning an all day trip with packed lunches.  When I first heard about this, I was picturing more of an easy going couple hours on horseback, getting down periodically to clear some brush and twigs.  What I didn't know was that I signed up for an all day excursion with twin chain saws clearing large trees and limbs.  Manual labor.  To be more specific, manual hungover labor.

So I sprint back to the lodge to make a sandwich.  I'm not gonna lie, I gave this sammy a bit of TLC.  If I was going to suffer, at least I would have something to look forward to.  On my way back to the barn, I could see the crew saddling horses and getting everything packed.  I was soon acquainted with my horse, Tango.  I was told to let him get to know me by smelling the back of my hand.  Not sure if I saw this right, but it seemed as if he cringed when smelling my hand.  The alcohol seeping through my pores must have stung his nostrils.  Either way, Tango and I became tolerant of each other and our journey began.

The ride began decently.  I really was able to appreciate where I get to call my office.  The air was cool and crisp, the sun was just barely making its way over the ridge and my hip flexors weren't flaring as of yet.  My moment of bliss was soon interrupted by a swift trot.  I thought for a second that my horse had lagged behind and was trying to catch up to the rest of the fleet, however, it was the entire crew of horses in a solid gait continuing down the trail.  After about 20 seconds I yelled up, "Alright.  This isn't going to be how it is the entire time, right?"  Spencer, the wrangler, looked back and saw me sliding to either side of the saddle, feet out of stirrups and looking completely miserable and decided to slow the pace down a bit.  That's when the pain began.  My head was splitting, my hips seemed like they were ready to explode and when we got off the horses for the first time, my hamstrings suffered uncontrollable spasms and cramps that sent me to my knees.  I swear the human body was not meant to sit on, let alone straddle an animal this large and this wide.  My muscles and joints were shot.  I looked at my watch and noticed that only 27 minutes had gone by and I could still see the ranch.  Dammit!  I was then reassured that we were only a fraction of the way up.  Lovely.

So the day went on, we cleared the trail with the help of two chain saws and lots of water.  I slowly forgot about my aches and pains and began to really enjoy the day.  Aside from Tango leading me into every boulder and every tree causing my legs to get pinned up against two immovable objects and his strange Tourette syndrome bob of the head, causing my reins to continually fling off of his neck, I felt as though I was getting the hang of it.  It wasn't until we finished clearing trail and starting our 8 mile journey back to the ranch, when I started to feel pain once again.  Minutes felt like hours and hours felt like days and I was hurting.  What made matters worse, was when we were reaching the final prairie, one of the ranch hands began to lope.  What I soon found out was that horses are very much followers and the other two guys' horses began to sprint after him.  I bet you can guess what ol' Tango had going through his head.  Before I knew it, my horse was in a full sprint and any confidence I had previously was sitting in a pile of horse shit at the top of the mountain.  Sliding from left to right, I tried my hardest to keep my feet stable in the stirrups and make sure my hand holding the reins was steady.  The other hand was so white knuckled onto the horn of that saddle, that I wouldn't be surprised if my fingers left imprints in the leather.  Once Tango felt as though he had successfully caught up to the other horses, all I could hear were the bellowing laughs of the other three guys.  Since I kind of blacked out throughout the entire process, I wasn't aware as to what was coming out of my mouth.  I guess I kept repeating the word "OK!" over and over again mixed with multiple expletives.  Either way, I made it to the destination in one piece, though I was so unbelievably sore.

This experience proved to me that on a horse I am a fish out of water.  Overall, it was a fun day and we definitely got some work done.  I think horses are beautiful animals, however, I have no need to ever ride one again.  If I have the choice, I'll fish instead.

Me and Ol' Tango

Just four semi-good lookin' desperados who love to party