Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Orange Blossom Special

I started this blog the day after my friend Patricks' accident and then my life spun out of control with STUFF...soooooo...I'm going to finish the reunion blog sometime soon but for now I will finish and post this...but the blog about Patrick had to come first. During all of this time I did tell Precious and Adorable History Teacher about my climp up the hill of 218 steps (since he was with me when I had my "ah ha" moment to get in shape) and got a big hug and a high five for that...and of course I have shared my "feat of amazement" with my trainer and spin teachers...got more hugs...and TTG and GOTT (more hugs)...I may not do 218 steps every weekend but like Tinkerbell, I need the applause to live and I make those men clap until their hands hurt...

So here is my blog about the Mighty Mighty Eagle Drill...

From Friday Mountain Girls Camp!

Is there a song in your life that causes you terror? Or maybe brings back horrific memories?

For me, that song is...well, it is a combination of songs...
The Orange Blossom Special and the Wabash Cannonball

Because they were two of the songs in the mash-up/combo that we rode to during the Mighty Mighty Eagle Drill...

(shudder)

For those who haven't read my last few blogs, the Eagle Drill was a "dance" on horseback where we took the horses through a long pattern set to music.

My last year of camp I led the Eagle Drill. I may have also had to lead it my first Eagle year when I went in August, but I have blocked it...

Leading the Eagle Drill was usually reserved for the BEST rider among the Eagles. I most certainly was NOT the best rider among the Eagles. I came in about 13th out of 14 girls...

I think they had me do it because I could remember the pattern---because it was my 3rd tme to be an Eagle. It was NOT my riding skills...because I have no riding skills. My sister N, now she has riding skills...incredible riding skills...and world championships to prove it. My brother B also was a pretty fierce rider (world championships in Cutting) and my sister S was also a pretty good rider.

Me...notsomuch...

I was good with cattle. I showed heifers and steers. I did well. I have the belt buckles to prove it.

But the horses...I was much better off lookng at them than riding them.

Basically, almost every time I am on a horse, I fall off. But at camp I did manage to stay in the saddle...most of the time...

I think because we raised and showed horses and my siblings were so good with them, everyone ASSUMED I could ride. I cannot ride.

And since my last day of camp I can tell you that I have been on a horse exactly one other time.

And I fell off...

I think at this point in my life that I shall not try it again. It is safer for all. And I would likely need surgery if I fell off a horse at my age.

My son, on the other hand, is a natural. He always rides with the more advanced group of boys at camp. Before camp he had been on a horse exactly...NEVER...

But he got to camp, someone told them who he was related to, and they put him on a horse and he rode it like he had been doing it for years.

And one time he fell off---just like his mother...but that was the only time he fell. That particular year (2 summers ago) my son did his level best to kill himself at Camp LaJunta. He fell off the top bunk onto his trunk---so they moved him to a lower bunk and he fell off that too. They dubbed him "Sir Fallsalot" in mountain biking---because he fell...alot. He fell running up the hill several times. He went days avoiding the camp picture girl because he had a split lip and a black eye from all the falls. And then there was the horseback incident. The worst part about THAT little incident was hearing about it afterwards. The conversation went like this:

Counselor: Did TCBITW (The Cutest Boy in the World) tell you about falling off the horse the other day and getting kicked in the head?

Me: (to my son): Nooooooooooooooooooooooooo....kicked in the head?

TCBITW: yes, the horse kicked me in the head after I fell off...good thing I had a helmet on...

Counselor: it cracked the helmet so we threw it away...

Me: did it crack your head? (that was said to my son)...Did you crack YOUR head (to counselor) because you have waited until NOW to tell me he got kicked in the head?

Counelor: we sent him to the nurse...

TCBITW: the nurse said it didn't look like I was going to have a concussion...

Counelor: we watched him very closely the rest of the day...

TCBITW: I got to ride on the scooter with Blake (camp director) after I fell off...

Me: he fell off a horse and then you put him on the back of a scooter

TCBITW: it was fun!

Me: what was fun?

TCBITW: all of it...although falling off wasn't that fun...but the cracked helmet was...

I think I forgot to mention that he almost ran out of air in scuba class that year...now I think he may have (run out of air)....

Yes, I still let him go to camp...

Heck, we didn't wear helmets...and I hit a lot of branches during trail rides...I'm surprised none of us ever lost a ponytail or braid to a tree branch...or didn't get our hair caught and fall off the horse...oh wait! I think that happened to me!!!!

So back to the drill...

My last year of camp my favorite counselor---Dana---tells me I am leading the drill. She is excited. I am not.

All I can think of is that I will never remember the pattern...and that I will bounce around in that saddle like popcorn as we take the horses through their turns.

I have blocked from my mind the name of the horse I rode but I am pretty sure he/she was 100 years old and had done that darn drill no less than 50 times so I honestly think the horse did the drill and I was just along for the ride.

The worst part was that my father watched it on closing day. And then he told me that I bounced like popcorn popping on that saddle.

This from a man who once graced the cover of "Fortune" magazine riding a horse...and looking like he was trying to flap his arm as wings to fly. We always referred to his riding style as "doing the funky chicken" because he flapped his arms as he rode. It was not a very elegant or impressive magazine cover. He was also covered in dirt.

But he had to comment on MY riding style...

Thanks, Daddy...

I told him to just be happy I didn't fall off...

And then he went on to be thrilled with my shooting abilities in riflery and the Mighty Mighty Eagle Drill was forgotten.

But every time I hear those songs---I leave the room or turn off the radio...

And the horses of the world are safe because I have vowed never to ride again!

Inspiration Music: "The Orange Blossom Special" and "The Wabash Cannonball"...not because they inspire me...they strike terror in me...but because what would the Mighty Mighty Eagle Drill have been without them?

No comments:

Post a Comment