Not quite a pony

By Gayle Carline
Horse-crazy World Traveler

I don' t know how it happens, but 90% of the time that it's my day to post, I'm somewhere else. This weekend, I'm at the Southern California Writers Conference, teaching a workshop here and leading a critique session there. If you're a writer and want to know more about conferences and why you should go to them, I watched an interesting session with my friend Marla Miller and her friend Carla King. Check it out:



But what I really wanted to talk about this month was my trip to Scotland. It was glorious! We went so many places and saw so many things, but I'll give you the horsey-highlights.

1. We saw the Kelpies. They are stainless steel horse heads, designed to pay homage to the draft horses that pulled barges up and down the river at Falkirk. Here is the photo I took:

And here is a photo my hubby took of me, standing in the driving rain, in a pink jacket, under the horse's nose.

They are enormous!

2. I rode! My horse was not a pony. She was a Cob-Draft cross named Florrie and it was just me and my guide Julia riding through the Highlands. We did a little "trotting with a rise" which is how they refer to a posting trot. If you say "posting trot," they smile. Say it twice and they start laughing. Here I am, preparing to go out:

I'm still kicking myself for not asking what that flap of material is on her nose. It's not a grazing muzzle!

Here we are, with Urquhart Castle and Loch Ness in the background. What you can't see is that I'm looking at a field of heather blooming. Gorgeous.

This is most of the scenery. Green, luscious, rolling hills.

One  more picture of me and Florrie, as it started to rain.

Our travel agent had instructed hubby to drive to his golf game and me to take a taxi to the stables. This turned out to be an error on her part, but a fun one. My taxi driver, Robert, said at the hotel, "You know this is a half-hour drive. It's over 40 pounds one-way. You could have dropped your husband at the golf course on your way and taken the car."

I shrugged and told him, "Too late now."

He shook his head. "I can't do this. I'll drive you to the stable, wait for you, and drive you back, all for 60 pounds."

Still expensive, but he was so nice about everything. He worried that my jacket wasn't waterproof enough and wanted me to wear his coat. I told him about America and he confessed he wants to ride a horse like the cowboys do and shoot a gun. We talked about the target shooting competitions on horseback and he was jazzed.

"I want to do that!"

Too bad he doesn't know how to ride.

When I came back from riding, his car was in the parking lot and I had to ride Florrie around him. He told me, "You had the biggest bloody smile on your face when I saw you."

Well, yes. It felt like I could die happy in that moment.

(And no, I didn't get pictures of Julia or Robert. I was so busy living in the moment that I forgot about recording it.)

Have you ever had that moment, when you realized a dream and it was everything you thought it would be?

Scotland, here I come!

By Gayle Carline
Horse Lover and Incredibly Stubborn Woman

When I was 45, I finally arrived at the horse party, and knowing my own limitations, I decided to stick with western-style riding. That saddle is so large and comfortable, I could spend all day in it.

The few times my horse has thrown me, I've really hated to leave it.

This year is a special year for me. It's the Chinese Year of the Horse, which is my sign. And I'm 60, which is some kind of a milestone, I suppose. At any rate, I decided to have a big, fat, horsey birthday year and celebrate for the entire 365 days.

My Swatch "Year of the Horse" Watch!

Part of my celebration is to visit Scotland. I've got Celtic blood in my veins and have always wanted to see the Highlands, the moors, the castles. We made all the arrangements with a lovely travel agent, including a day of golfing for my husband, Dale.

It's Scotland, after all. If you're a golfer, you gotta golf. While he was golfing, what was I supposed to do? An idea occurred to me: go horseback riding.

There was only one problem. I'm pretty sure they don't have western saddles, and I've never ridden English. It's even possible that I told my trainer Niki that she'd never get my tush on one of those little leather postage stamps.

Never say "never," Peeps. It'll bite you in the butt every time.

For about two months now, I've been taking English lessons on my little mare, Frostie. The first day, it felt like I was on a viewing platform. As comfy as I felt in my western saddle, I suddenly had no sense of balance on this little, hard triangle. Over the weeks, I slowly became more used to it, and I do mean "slowly" and "more used to it."

Like my western boots and jeans? LOL!

Here's the thing - I don't HAVE to ride in Scotland. I don't HAVE to learn to ride English. Call me stubborn. I want to ride in the Highlands, and I don't care what I have to do in order to do it.

So I can now two-point (at the trot), post, and even find my diagonal. I doubt if I start riding English for fun, but I'm proud of my new skill and I can't wait to try it out. My only worry is that I'm only 5'2" and I know that Scotland is full of sport horses. I'm hoping there's a pony out there for me.

How about you? Have you ever learned to do something you didn't want to do, just because you wanted to reach another goal?