Having Harcombe was like owning a horse of my own, every day whether rain or shine we went out horse riding. Sometimes Granny had a spare horse so Peter and I could ride out together and on the other days we took it in turns to ride out with Granny and her family. Life could get no better than this, I thought. Now after about six months of having Harcombe, Granny told us about a horse show she was going to and that she had room on the lorry for one more horse if we would like to go. Like to go? Well I could not stop talking about it for the whole week prior to the show. I was soooo excited.

On the morning of the show, my friend Jane said she would come up to the stables and plait Harcombe’s mane up ready for the show, so I made sure that I had bought loads of black elastic bands, color coordinated to match his mane of course, and some hoof polish to make his feet shine. He had a brand new red sweat rug, red numnuh, and red head collar to match. He was so good and did not fidget one bit while she was plaiting him, and when he was finished he looked real cool, not at all like a pansy which was what everyone else was calling him. As soon as Jane was happy at the finished outcome we boxed him up with the others then drove to the show. The show was only a twenty minute drive away, which I think Granny was quite pleased about because I did not stop talking from the time we left the stables till the time we arrived at the horse show. God! I was so excited I could not wait to get there and get him unloaded.

“We are here,” I yelled making everyone nearly jump out of there skins and Peter gave me one of his please be quiet looks as Granny parked up the horse trailer. As soon as she turned of the engine I was gone, running round to the back of the trailer I opened the door and there he was still intact with his plaits, my lovely Harcombe. Peter led him out whilst I went and got all of his tack which I had scrubbed and polished the previous night, it almost looked like new now. When I had finished tacking him up I stood back to admire my choice of color that I had chosen for him. Looking at the picture now, yes I think it was a bit too much, but on that day years ago he looked great and I was so proud of him.

Sams and Harcombe's 1st Horse Show

Peter had not been very well that week so he did not want to compete in any of the classes but he said that he would warm him up for me whilst I went to register him. Granny came with me because I had no idea what class to put in so she registered us in the two foot jumping class, I was given a number which she helped me to put on. I was so excited and even though I had been to shows with Granny and her family before I could not remember what we had to do next. When Granny said come on then lets go, I had to ask her go where? “To walk the course silly,” she said, “otherwise how will you know where you are going,” so off we went to walk the course. It was only a small course but the jumps looked huge, and even though granny was talking to me as we walked round I had no idea of what she was saying, my tummy was turning over and all of a sudden I started to feel sick, the nerves were kicking in, great!

Peter took one look at me when I arrived back at the trailer and then started to laugh, “you look awful,” he said, thanks a bunch for that I thought, and I was going to give him a piece of my mind but thought that I might burst into tears if I tried talking, so I just grabbed Harcombes reigns and walked off to try and calm my nerves. I trotted around for a few minutes then took him over the practice jump a couple of times, he flew over, you could tell he was having fun, shame about his rider, I thought. Looking up I saw Granny waving at me so I trotted Harcombe over to her. My class had started and they were calling numbers at random, please not me first, I thought, as luck would have it I was called in fifth, they all wished me luck as I trotted towards the ring.

Just as we were about to enter, Harcombe stopped dead, I tried to get him to walk on but at that point he started to rear up. Granny came over and led him and telling me under her breath to relax because Harcombe could sense it, and that was why he was playing up, I nodded and smiled then trotted of towards the caravan. A man asked me my name and number which I had completely forgotten, so again Granny came to the rescue. I was told to ride around then start when I heard the bell, my hands were so clammy I could hardly turn Harcombe at the end of the ring, then just as I was about to say that I could not do this the loud speaker went off, “and now in the ring we have Samantha Beale riding Harcombe,” well that made my day hearing that, and from that point I knew we were going to get round the course, the bell went off and so did we.

Harcombe flew around the course loving it, he took off at the right moment and landed well, I landed a few seconds after him each time but that did not stop us from finishing the whole course. Wow! What a rush it was. Walking out of that horse jumping ring with a clear round made me feel like I was on cloud nine, I think everyone was surprised that we actually got a clear round, and now that we had done it, I was saying that I loved it and would do it again when Granny said that it was just as well because now I was in the jump off. So I would have to do it again, my face fell and everyone started to laugh at me, what happened to “can I do it again,” they asked, I started to laugh as well and hoping that it sounded genuine.

My turn soon came back around again, but this time you only had to jump some of the horse jumps, not all of them, and you were against the clock. There were quite a few small ponies which had the speed but Granny said they would not be able to turn in quick enough like Harcombe could, so that was the technique we used, and do you know what? We came fourth! I was so chuffed, especially when we all had to do our lap of honor, Harcombe had his winning rosette attached to the top of his horse bridle and I left it there for the rest of the day. When we got home I gave him an extra special feed for doing so well. He did look rather funny when I took out all of his mane plaits, bless him, but that day it really felt like my dream had come true and I was owning a horse of my own.

I had left school and got a myself a job, owning a horse of my own now became my mission. But being a young sixteen year old things did not quite go to plan, instead of getting a horse I got myself a boyfriend, but as luck would have it he to was very interested in horses to.

Now Granny had quite a few horses which she could not manage all at once, so she asked my boyfriend Peter and I if we would be interested in taking one of her horses on loan, we could keep him stabbled there and it would cost us £20 a week.

We worked out all of our out going expenses just to make sure that we could afford him, his vet bills, and his food, as soon as we realised that we could we went round to Grannys to accept. Finnally I would be owning a horse, well sort of. I could not wait to go and ride Harcombe.

Harcombe was a fifteen-two cob cross horse, he used to be a hunting horse but he was getting on a bit now so was retired from hunting, which was how Granny came to have him. Now the thing with Harcombe was that he was very set in his ways, for example, if he did not want to go a certain way then he would drop his left shoulder, rear, and then spin round and head back to his stable. Not a very nice trait that he had picked up, but at least Granny had warned us both about it.

The first day that we owned Harcombe Peter went out riding with Granny, all went very smoothly and Harcombe was very well behaved. The next day it was my turn, but because Granny was riding out over the common I decided, as it was my first time, just to do a little bit of horse road work with him so that we could check each other out.

I decided to go up the lane opposite my parents house and then around the block, Peter said that he would wait for me to go past and then meet me at the stables. Of I went without a care in the world, riding a horse that sort of belonged to me. What could go wrong?

We went up the lane, and about half way up I let him have his head, he broke out into a canter, it was such a good feeling, and getting to the end I was so tempted to go back and do it again, but knowing that Peter was waiting for me at our check point I decided against it and carried on down towards the road.

Turning the corner we walked down the hill and onto the road, there coming towards us was a group of three horses. Now coming from a stable with a lot of horses Harcombe thought that these were his friends and started to trot towards them, I pulled him back into a walk and let him sniff the other horses whilst I engaged in conversation, but as soon as I asked him to walk past he started to throw his head about. I knew this was the sign for him to drop his shoulder, so before that happened I tightened my reins and gave him a hard kick, he shot forward, a little surprised that I knew his little trick, and he started to trot along the road.

I was so pleased with myself that I let him trot till I met up with Peter. I could not wait to tell him how I’d mastered the horse. Peter just looked at me when I had finnished telling him and told me not to get too cocky. As if. I told him that I would see him in about half an hour and began trotting off to finnish my ride.

Being sat up on harcombe made me feel so tall, I could see for miles across the fields, it was great, I loved that feeling. Anyway getting back to my ride. I was just getting to the top of the estate which was about half way round. I remember singing away without a care in the world, so what the little bugger did next took me completley by surprise. He did not drop his shoulder. He just froze, then span round and jumped up on all fours. As soon as his feet landed he took off flat out in a full gallop, I screamed and yelled at him, when you think about it that probably did not help, but at that point I remember being absoultley terrified, I yanked on the reins but nothing happened, well it did, he got faster. The fifteen minute walk that I had planned just flew passed in thirty seconds, and all I kept praying was that we did not meet anyone coming the other way.

Before I knew it I was whizzing passed my parents house, looking back I suppose it was quite funny, seeing three faces at the window as I shot passed, my arms and legs not far behind. At the time I can asure you it was no laughing matter. As soon as harcombe got back to the yard he stopped and casually just walked into his stable, and I swear it took ages for me to untangle his mane from my fingers so that I could dismount.

As soon as I saw Peter running up the yard I burst into tears, I swore that I would never ever ride Harcombe again and that he had to go back. But of course that did not happen, and I did ride him again. At that moment he was the closest thing I had to owning a horse of my own.

Riding Honey whenever I wanted to felt like owning a horse of my own. My friend Jo and myself used to ride out every day for hours on end, through the woods across the common and even just round the lanes, it was such good fun and we loved it. My Mum and Dad used to get a little confused though because when walking to school Jo and I would take at least half an hour and always end up being late with letters being sent home, hehe, but when the bell rang at the end of the day and we knew we were going out riding then it would take us only ten minutes to get home funny that!!!!

Now one day as we were getting ready to go out riding, Honey’s owners came up to us and what they said next completely destroyed me, they were moving away, which ok might not sound too bad but then came the worse bit, they were putting Honey up for sale because they were moving to a city and did not think that it was fair to take her. Oh my god! At that point my whole world came crashing down, I ran all the way home, tears running down my face, I ran through our front door like I was being chased by a swarm of angry bees, it took my Mum about twenty minuets to calm me down and get any sense out me. At first she thought that I had fallen off again and really hurt myself. Because I was so upset this annoyed me even more and I just started to shout at her. I know this was wrong but being a fourteen year old girl and having her dream taken away I knew no wrong in shouting at her.

About a hour later I had calmed down enough to sort of apologize and to tell her the whole story, at this point my brother come in from work and was listening, nosy so-and-so, at the end of it I just burst out crying again, my brother said that he could afford to buy Honey for me but could not afford to keep her, bless him, did I say nosy brother earlier, must have been a typing error, any way, I knew that my parents did not have enough money to keep her and even at that young age I knew it would be unfair to ask them, but one good thing, until she was sold at least I could carry on riding her.

With Honey gone I just skulked around the house all day being really miserable, I did not even want to go out and play with my friends, I just went to school, then came home and went straight up to my room, only coming down for food and drink, my Mum even offered to pay for me to go back to the riding stables again, but as you would have probably guessed, I thought that I was an accomplished rider by now so it would have been a waste of money, I know that its true what people say, you learn something knew every day, and boy-oh-boy have I learnt a lot.

Granny had just bought a new horse for her son who liked doing long distance horse riding with his grandma, the horse was the same height as Honey and the same color, when Granny heard about Honey being sold she asked me if I could help her get Lizzie (her son’s new horse) fit, no problem, I replied, I mean how hard could it be, ok she was a little overweight and a bit stubborn, I was just happy at the thought of being back in the saddle.

Now the first time I rode her Granny said that we were going to do road work, having been out riding with her before I knew that it was going to be just miles and miles of trotting, great I thought, one sore bum coming up. I tacked up Lizzie then mounted up, “ready,” I shouted to Granny and she led the way down the track. As soon as we hit the road she started to trot, what a surprise, I thought, and squeezed my heels into Lizzie’s sides to get her to trot, nothing happened so I squeezed again, and again, Granny came trotting back towards me laughing, “I forgot to tell you she said she hates doing anything but walking so you really have to use your legs on her all the time, Granny said. I squeezed once more and then gave her a sharp kick, she groaned and very slowly went into a trot, I did it, I thought very smugly to myself, and without realizing it I must have lost contact because straight away she stopped trotting and started to walk again, using my heels I dug them back into her side and again she broke out into a trot, just!

Getting back to the stables later I was not sure who was sweating the most, me or Lizzie, but I did know one thing for sure and that was I could not feel my legs, nope there was nothing there whatsoever. After riding Honey who would go from a standstill to flat-out in one leap, I guessed that I must have been spoilt and just didn’t realize it at the time. Granny had already dismounted and was leading Woodway back into the stables, I just sat there wondering if my legs would take my body weight when I finally had the courage to try it. Ok my lesson of that day was not to get complacent, no two horses were the same, thank god for that I thought to myself because when it came to owning a horse of my own I knew what type I would be going for.

I soon got used to riding Honey and it was like owning a horse of my own. Because I had to walk so far with the tack I very rarely used a horse saddle, looking back now I do not think that I would last five minutes bareback but as kids you seemed to have more balance. Back then I did not even own a riding hat but now the first thing I do is put on my riding hat, strange how growing up makes you much more cautious.

One day we decided to go around to Granny’s to do some jumping, Jo was on Goldie and I was on Honey as usual, I had no saddle but was not worried about it. Jo wanted some advice from Granny because Goldie would not jump at all, so in the little paddock Granny had set up some small jumps, we were so excited, Honey flew around them, it felt so good to be jumping, she never stopped once and she seemed to enjoy it as much as me. Then it was Jo’s turn to go round the jumps but Goldie would not jump at all, we tried every thing to get Goldie to jump but nothing worked. Granny said to come back the next day and try again but first to go out on a hack to tire him out a bit, then he might not be so quite so full of himself.

The next day I tacked up Honey with a saddle, I know, quite a novelty for me. I met Jo along the road, we decided to go through the woods for our ride because it only took forty five minutes but we could let them go at the gallop. This would hopefully tire out Goldie enough to make Jo handle him better back at Granny’s. This seemed to do the trick as he actually trotted over the trotting poles without hesitating. Granny put the jumps up to the first hole, Honey flew around the course followed by Goldie, it was amazing the higher the jumps went up the easier they both seemed to jump.

Granny told us to jump the fence out into the main field where there was more solid jumps to practise on. Well we did not need to be told twice, we flew over the fence and galloped out around the field, it was almost like a horse cross country course that they had built, there were more jumps and most of them were the same height that we had just been jumping. I think that I was slightly over cocky. I turned in and let Honey go at the first jump, as she cantered up to it I got ready for the take off, Jo was right behind me on Goldie.

The next thing I knew I was led on my back looking up at the sky, ouch that hurt, getting up I saw Jo hanging on for dear life around Goldie’s neck as he bolted around the field, he was heading straight for the muck heap. and just as he reached it he sharply swerved left, poor Jo never stood a chance, she landed face first in the muck heap, mmmmm nice, she jumped up straight away and started to laugh, which was just as well as Granny was trying to come to our rescue but was laughing so much it was a very slow progress.

Trying to catch Honey and Goldie was no laughing matter though, and running round the field getting all hot and sticky made Jo smell even worse than she did before, eventually we managed to catch them both with a little help from a bucket of horse nuts and we mounted back up ready to go home. Honey flew over the fence back into the small paddock but Goldie was having none of it. This was the only place that we could get out, all the other fencing was over six foot high, so to get out she had to jump the small part of the fence where we had jumped in. Goldie reared and bucked as soon as Jo turned him in to face the fence, Granny stood behind him to try and coax him forward but he started to kick out at her. His sweat was thick and white now but he still would not give in and jump the fence, even me jumping back over so he could follow me did not help, it just seemed to make him more stubborn about the whole thing, so we had no choice but to leave him there over night.

As it was starting to get dark Jo asked me if I would go and tell Goldie’s owner what had happened while she untacked him and rubbed him down,ready to put his sweat rug on, I trotted off to make sure that I could get back before it had got completely dark. Around the corner I went but pulled up Honey when I heard Jo yelling behind me. Turning around I saw Goldie galloping up the road towards me, but where was Jo? Apparently, as I left and went around the corner, Goldie decided he did not want to be left on his own. He reared up, taking Jo by surprise as she was just dismounting the horse, span around, which made the dismount even quicker, and then shot straight over the fence and came to find us.

He stopped right in front us and rubbed his nose against Honey’s, bless him, he was in love with Honey and did not want her to leave him. I looked over Goldies head and saw a very angry Jo walking along the road. I tried to tell her how sweet it was about Goldie and Honey but she didn’t listen because she was so angry. I don’t really know why, ha ha. She cheered up later though, I think having a bath helped. Looking back on our day we realised that owning a horse of our own was going to be a lot of fun.

Now that I was getting older, owning a horse of my own was going to be expensive, which meant that I was going to have to save up for it myself, straight away it was going to be a struggle as saving was not my strong point, actually even now I can’t seem to get the hang of it.

My friend Jo used to ride a horse called Goldie, he was a lovely palomino which was kept on a farm down the road from where I lived, it was a wild thing which had been sent away to be broken in but somewhere along the way we think he kind of forgot all he was taught and by the time he came back he was still out of control, the farmer was quite upset that his granddaughter, who he originally bought Goldie for would go no where near him, so Jo was starting to ride him out. Me, well I wasn’t quite ready for a horse like Goldie yet.

Now Goldie had many fields to roam, and every time we went to get him he was always in the one farthest away, and the funniest thing was how deaf he was when we shouted his name, but he could hear you drop horse feed nuts into his bucket from four fields away, funny that. Now one day as we were walking down the field, Goldie was running up and down the far hedge neighing and whinnying, on the other side was a brown cob doing the same.

It did not take us long to find out who owned this pony, I am not saying that we were nosy, just inquisitive, she belonged to a family who had just moved in down in the valley, they had two ponies, one called Willow who was only six months old and the other called Honey who they said we were more than welcome to ride, this for me was a dream come true. We decided just to ride her in the field to start with so we could get used to each other, we ran down to their house to get her tack. They told us she was hard work to catch and best to pen her into a corner then throw a lead rope around her neck, as soon as you do this she would know that she was caught and would stand still whilst you put the head collar on her. Jo and I looked at each other and giggled, as experienced as us how hard could this be?

We had all the horses tack sat on the fence ready, Jo had the lead rope and I had the head collar, Honey took one look at us and galloped of around the field, not a good start but after about ten minutes she had calmed down ready for us to make our move, we walked up slowly behind her and started to get her penned into a corner, so far so good. Jo walked slowly up ready with the lead rope but Honey saw it coming, rearing up she span around and shot straight past us both back out into the field, OK, plan B, lets both hold the lead rope and walk up behind her. This worked a lot better and Jo got close enough to throw the lead rope over her neck, on doing this Honey stood still looking at us both as of to say, well come on then you have caught me.

Keep in mind that this is me we are talking about, you know the girl who knows everything that there is to know about horses, so at this point it was my move and I ran up behind Honey with the head collar. That day I learnt a very valuable and painful lesson. Honey must have been spooked at me running at her from behind, because just as I ran up behind her she kicked out with both legs, she caught me in the top of my leg and sent me into a flying backwards somersault, oh my God did it hurt. Jo came running over but I jumped up saying that I was OK and that it was lucky that she did not have any horseshoes on.

We decided to give up and come back tomorrow. My leg was getting tighter and tighter underneath my jeans. I just wanted to get home so I could see if it was bruised, thankfully Jo carried the tack back down to the house while I waited by the gate for her. Walking back home that day took me over a hour for a ten minute walk. As soon as I walked through the door my mum knew that something was wrong, but it was at least another half hour before I took down my jeans to expose a bruise that covered the whole of my top leg right down to my knee, it was huge, my mum had a fit and started to shout at me, which was when I burst into tears. For a whole week after that I could only wear pajamas bottoms because of the swelling, but we were soon back in Honeys field with head collar and lead rope in tow. This was another lesson that I had learnt so I would be ready when the day came when I would be owning a horse of my own.

My best friend at school was under the same impression as me, one day we would be owning a horse. We made a pact together that we would save up and buy our own riding school, have loads of horses and loads of land, this I am sure kept us going through our school years and even now we are still in touch though our dream never quite happened.

“Please can I have riding lessons Mum, please” I asked again and again and again. But she kept saying No, Please, Please, Please, over and over and over again, Until she said “OK Yes” and I screamed at the top of my voice, but it did not come without a price, every night after tea and before I went out I had to do the washing up, can you believe that every single night for a one hour lesson on the Sunday. Ok so I thought it over for a good five seconds before I agreed to her terms,(I bet she thought I would say no) ha ha no way. Ok so today was Saturday and because the deal was set I made her phone up there and then to book my lesson for the next day, boy I was good.

Sunday morning arrived and I was up well early, dressed in jeans and trainers ready for my riding lesson. Dad drove me up to the stables and before he had completely stopped the car I was all ready out and running across the yard with him shouting something behind me, I turned and nodded having no idea what he said, but hoping that it looked like I did to him before I disappeared around the corner.

I booked in at the reception and waited for them to find me a hat that was the right size for me. When the lady asked me where were my wellingtons, wellingtons, I thought what for?” I explained to her that when I usually rode out I wore my trainers because they were much more comfortable, I thought that I sounded like I knew what I was on about that it did not bother me that she was grinning like a Cheshire cat at me. But I really had no idea.

She took me over to a huge barn where there was about ten kids all lined up in front of their ponies, a few of them looked scared to death of these four legged animals, and as I joined the group another pony was brought out to me, I could hardly stand still waiting for my turn to be helped on. Some of them just jumped on with ease, others struggled. Come on, come on, I thought, this is the easy part. Eventually they got to me and told me to bend my leg while they cupped it in their hands and on the count of three to jump, no problem, one, two, three. I am not sure but I don’t think that I jumped quite high enough and as I went to swing my leg over I missed and kicked my horse right behind the saddle, good job she was holding on to the lead rope, he shot forward as I fell tummy first over the saddle, she quickly tugged on the lead rope and he stopped and span around to face her, it was such a sharp spin and as I was not holding on to anything I just slipped straight over the top of the saddle and down to the ground onto the wood chippings, straight away I jumped up brushed myself off and tried to hide my beetroot colored face, not a good start.

Eventually we were all mounted up and ready to start our lesson, we were told to walk around the ring and then come down the middle and turn the other way, then we walked around doing a figure of eight, this is so easy I thought. Then the instructor said that we had to trot around the ring one at a time. How sorry I felt for my horse when it was our turn, bumb, bumb, bumb, I went. I had no idea how to do the rising trot so I just sat there like a bag of potatoes, slipping first one way and then the other, I had to grip so tight with my legs to stop me from slipping right off. My legs ached and felt really sore, so I was very thankful that we did not have time to trot around the ring the other way.

The lesson came to a end and the instructor called us all into the middle of the ring and to line up by the horse jumps that they had set out ready for their next lesson. She started to tell us what we would be doing in next weeks riding lesson, I was looking at the jumps and telling myself that in a couple of weeks I would be doing that, I was off in my own world paying no attention to what she was saying until I heard my name being mentioned, I glanced around and realized that everyone but me had dismounted, as she was helping me off I realized that I should really spend more time listening if I was to learn how to ride a horse.

Sliding to the floor my legs felt like jelly, but I managed to stand there as if I was fine, patting my horse on his neck and then threading up the stirrups so they didn’t smack against his side as he was led away. I started to walk across the horses yard to the car park but my legs were sore and burning so much, I stopped and pulled up my trouser legs to reveal two huge purple pinch marks, and said to myself from now on I think I will wear Wellingtons when I ride.

Now that I’d had a horse riding lesson and I in my mind I figured that I had learnt so much, I really thought to myself that day that it would not be long before I would be owning a horse of my own. I carried on limping to the car with a big smile on my face and thought, roll on next week.

At school and at home owning a horse was all I kept on about, having only been on one once was a good enough reason for me to believe I knew more than enough to look after one myself, (I was very young).

Near where I lived there was a lady (she was about 30) who had horses of her own, she kept them in stables about 5 mins away from my house. Now being kids, like we all have been at one point, this lady was obviously older than us so we used to call her Granny, even now some 25 years later if I see her I still call her Granny.

Now one day Granny was asked if she could do anything with a friends pony, he had bought it for his daughter but it was so naughty that she could not handle it, Granny said she would have Bracken, the pony’s name for a month.

It was a good job that Granny was such a little person, because as soon as the pony arrived she started to ride him out, all 12 hands of him. He bucked, he reared and then he bucked some more but no matter how hard he tried or how hard we wished she never fell off.

Now one day she was leading Brackon and Bilbo, another pony, round the block trying to get them used to traffic and asked if I would like to go. Off we went, Granny leading Bracken and me leading Bilbo. We went down the road along some lanes and through a building estate with no problems, then just as we were on our homeward stretch a tractor came behind us.

Bilbo completely freaked out and started to rear up, me, well I started to scream, Granny told me not to panic and get to her, panic, who me? I managed to get close enough for her to grab the lead rope, but what happened next frightened the life out of me for a good 5 mins.

Granny told me to grab Brackens neck and then she bent down, grabbed my leg and threw me on, it all happened so fast. She threw the lead rope over his neck then hit him right on his flank. My god! For a small pony he could run.

Having only walked at a very slow pace this was all new to me, I had no saddle and no reins so I just grabbed a handful of the horses mane, Granny was behind me shouting, “lean forward, lean forward,” I thought that was what I was doing, but when she told the story in later years apparently I was sat bolt upright like a board.

Bracken ran up the hill and around the corner straight back to the horse yard, it must have only taken minutes but to me it felt like forever. He arrived at his stable door and just stopped dead, me, well I carried on for a few more seconds, straight over his head, and that was where Granny found me a few minutes later, still on the floor.

She tried to explain to me that what she did was the safest way out of a very tricky situation but me being me was having none of it, and I ran home in tears. I did not speak to her for weeks. But none of this stopped me bragging to all my friends the next day, about how I had galloped on Bracken with no saddle and no reins, how cool am I? Yep, not long now and I would be owning a horse.