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I was one of those little girls who loved horses. Horses were big and muscular, capable of carrying a little girl through the enchanted forest. They pulled Cinderella's carriage.
But it wasn't really the horses I was enamored with - it was the people who rode the horses. Hoss Cartwright on "Bonanza." Matt Dillon on "Gunsmoke."
Mostly it was Velvet Brown in "National Velvet." Velvet, played by a youthful Elizabeth Taylor, was pretty and dainty perched on a horse, graceful, her black hair flowing behind her as she rode The Pie to victory. I wanted to BE Velvet Brown. And that required a horse.
So when I saw in my Converse College catalog that horseback riding could be counted as one of my two required phys ed courses, I envisioned my dream coming true.
I had always hated phys ed. It wasn't so much being picked last for the teams; I would have been satisfied with not being picked at all. Mostly it was the cruel high school gym teachers.
I had always suspected they were laughing at me, and in my sophomore year, my suspicions were confirmed when I overheard Miss Volleyball giggling with Miss Track Coach:
"Did you see - hahaha - Lilly Auld fall …"
"Haha - off the balance beam!"
"She - wait, really, this is hilarious - she said she was afraid of heights and - heeheeheehee -"
"The balance beam was TWO INCHES off the floor!"
"Hahaahhaahha."
College phys ed would be different. I would morph into Velvet Brown AND SHOW THEM.
On my first day, the horse trainer (she wasn't even a gym teacher! a good sign!) showed me the tackle. My first dose of reality was that the bit that goes in the horse's mouth is huge. So the horse's mouth must be enormous, too. … You see, I'd never been close to a horse. I was a bookish, chubby little girl who watched "Bonanza" and "Gunsmoke." In my fantasy world, it didn't occur to me that horses might be capable of biting off my forearm.
The second day, the Horse Mistress introduced me to my steed and showed me how to groom him. I suspected my trainer wasn't out to teach me anything; she just wanted me to bathe her horses and clean the stalls. Sweeping poop hadn't entered my fantasies, either.
On the third day, the actual horseback riding began. Mounting Speedy was tough. It was truly a phys ed class. But the Horse Mistress wasn't laughing AT me - see, I was an adult; she was laughing WITH me.
Until I fell off the horse the first time. The Horse Mistress laughed so hard she was doubled over. So what if the horse wasn't moving when I fell off? It wasn't my fault that it was the first time the Horse Mistress had seen that happen in her 10 years of teaching riding.
The second time I fell off, though, it really wasn't a joke. Horses know their riders, and mine wanted rid of the nervous college girl inappropriately yanking the reins.
For a few blissful seconds when Speedy took off in a gallop, I actually felt like Velvet Brown, my blond hair flowing behind me. It didn't last. I woke up in the Horse Mistress' trailer with a concussion and loss of memory about everything except the thrill of riding my steed toward the enchanted forest.
I really, really wanted back on the horse that day - I'd heard the bromide that if you fall off a horse, you have to get right back on. I was also dazed and babbling. The doctor said no - six weeks of no riding at least.
After six weeks - one in the hospital - horseback riding seemed like a bad idea. Unfortunately, the alternatives, volleyball, track or gymnastics, were much worse.
