After many Mallomar-filled years off horseback, it became obvious to me that living without horses is decidedly boring. I found Journey's End, and set about re-discovering the rider in myself. 

  As I have passd the age at which , upon falling, one no longer bounces, a return to riding was a decision the making of which I should have taken more than the nanosecond I spent on it. I'm glad, now, that I made such an impulsive decision.

  On the day of my first lesson, I struggled into my old helmet, breeches, and  boots, which had the top of the line technology of 1996, and  made my way to the barn. In the dead of a Michigan winter that will forever be famous for its hideously low temperatures, I could still smell that aroma of horses that one either treasures beyond diamonds or (if one is not a true horse person) hates. I love it. 

    Jenny, and Abby-- the Earth's most patient horse-- were waiting. After the introductions, I got on. So far, so good, I thought. I remembered how to post, completely forgot what diagonal to use, and  otherwise made Abby work far too hard. I had an absolutely wonderful time. Jenny's utterly un-judgemental instruction that day made all the difference in the world to my self esteem. A year later, Abby has forgiven me. We're actually great friends, now that I ride Monarch...

    I've given up the Mallomars, but I've also given up the sort of life wherein one never has the feeling of flying on horseback. I've given up the monotony of daily life outside the company of like-minded "Horse People," to whom one never needs to apologize for hugging and talking to a horse. I'll never have to return to riding again, as I'm in it for life, thanks to Journey's End.