The Greatest Guy

Smiling through the pain...

That's me and my wonderful husband on our honeymoon in Aruba. He hasn't been on a horse since and that's my fault. He puts up with my constant blather about Gator and horses and still agreed when the opportunity arose that I could make Gator my own. Even after this ride. Not being a 'horse person' he's been amazingly tolerant of my expensive and time consuming habit. He's the best... now here's the story of our ride in Aruba.

I chose The Beach Ride from the book and told the clerk at our hotel. I didn't think much about it or even look at how long it was. I wanted to ride on the beach. Period. The end.

The day we'd chosen to ride came and we waited out front of our hotel. I had been certain we both packed jeans and 'real' shoes of some sort, which we were sporting. A little 'bus' showed up and we crawled in. We were the second hotel they stopped at to pick up the riders. As the bus filled and we drove around the island we talked about the scenery and such. I was stoked - I was going to ride on the beach. I had dreamed of cantering through the surf... okay a bit too 'romantical' but whatever.

We arrived at the 'ranch' and I looked around. I craned my neck to see where the horses lived and figure out what the hell they fed them - there wasn't a blade of grass hardly on the whole island. We all sat in the bar area and listened to a lecture on the 'basics of riding'. Oh my. They told you how to mount and to keep your heels down. That was pretty much it. Oh boy. Then they told us the groups - The Beach ride group (us) and The Waterfall or something group...

Everyone else. Uh oh. I quickly glanced at the brochure... I had chosen a THREE HOUR trail ride. The other was three hours, but not of riding ONLY - the ride was only 45 minutes to an hour for the other. My poor new husband was going to anull the marriage after a 3+ hour ride. I offered to switch rides but being a tough guy he said he could do it.

Then they asked who had ridden before. I had been warned to not admit I had... but they knew. The fact I kept looking at the horses I think, was giving my husband pointers etc. probably gave it away.

They led us to our horses. Most were pretty skinny, their feet a bit long the tack less than appealing but overall they were in decent health it appeared.

They put Mike on 'Champagne' first- I tried to help him but was being shuttled to my horse - 'Tazmania' who was prancing in place, head high, biting his neighbor. I noticed he had the fleshiest butt of the whole lot of horses. Awesome. I hop on and glance at the scary bit. A homemade kimberwick of sorts. Super.

They take the horse next to me away. Taz nearly pulled the post over. Literally, the whole fence shook. A guide ran over to try and settle him. Apparently Taz's very best friend was going to be in the other group. I gulped and tried to settle this horse rather unsuccessfully.

We met our guide, as another led a jigging Taz over to Champagne who didn't move when she was untied. As soon as the guide let go of Taz we headed down the paved road at some version of a fast gaited trot - I know nothing of gaited horses mind you. All I know is comfortable, it wasn't. The asphalt couldn't have been helpful either. Her buddy was in the other group, leaving ahead of us. I sit deep. Nothing. I pull back, not even very hard and the guide yells at me, almost panicked not to do that as Taz went into a head shaking fit. Um... so... I just go along with this then? No. He's a head shaking, pulling monster and I'm not allowed to touch his face? I hadn't even pulled back hard!

We were with the other group for the first 15 minutes of the ride. My horse trying to maneuver her way to her friend in the crowd - the guide trotting up and grabbing her bridle/halter to stop her and keep us in the back of the group. Mike's horse straggling along behind. I'm trying to explain to him how to ride probably annoying him to death... all the while my horse jigs while though guy now is practically just ponying us.

The time came to branch off which I was dreading - this horse was going to lose it. The guide had let go again. Of course Taz tried to head off with the other group. I blocked with my leg and opposite rein. He threw and shook his head and pulled like a fool BUT sort of listened with much head shaking, jigging in protest.

Champagne was lagging and to help Mike I decide to ride behind him. I could tell him what to do that way and it was helpful to have a horse behind his for motivation. Except Taz was not okay with being last. In fact second wasn't really Taz's choice either though he'd tolerate it. I was fighting him the entire time to stay behind when I finally just let him pass Mike as we passed housing with dogs running out barking at us. I think my horse would have gladly stomped a dog but he picked up the pace instead with little intention of listening to me. Great.

So now the guide is far far ahead down the road - I mean far. I'm still not sure what he was doing; he had to realize we were very far behind him. He might have been on his cell phone. I was struggling to slow Taz down to stay with Mike and his horse just had no motivation to move forward at our pace. As we were heading down a hill, still on the road mind you, I hear Mike yelling 'Whoa!'. My heart sinks as I look back.

Champagne has seen something in the bushes next two a house that she was not a fan of. She was bunny hopping in the front and refusing to move forward, only up. My horse REFUSES to turn around. I watch helplessly, fighting with Taz to turn and head back as Champagne rears. Yes. My non-riding husbands horse just reared on as asphalt road and of course he's bareheaded. I SCREAM for the guide.

He turns, looks and comes at a dead run back to us. Taz decides then it's okay to turn around and head back. The guide and I arrive at the same time and he grabs Champagnes bridle/halter and she calmed down. I explain to the guide, who did not speak English well, that someone had to stay behind Champagne. My horse would not without a fight so if he told me where to turn when we needed to turn, I was fine (and Taz was happier) leading. This actually worked very well while it lasted.

We were on a dirt road by then and Taz had finally stopped jigging. We started actually enjoying ourselves a little and Mike had a light bulb moment about what I meant by 'heels down'. Then we see the rocky mountain ahead. I had a gut twinge when I realized we'd be climbing it, helmet-less. I am a safety geek. About that time the guide also went back to the front of our little herd. I tried to keep Taz behind Champagne but it was futile - especially once the terrain got rough. Taz nearly pushed Champagne off a boulder to get in front of her. Beyond that they picked their way along up and down the path of the rocky mountainside - it was pretty cool when my horse wasn't shoving Mikes around.

Then we took a break after about an hour and a half. I think Mike was ready to kill me but he was a good sport. We took pictures of the rocky cliffs and the ocean. Mike of course was full of questions and asked why I was sort of out of the saddle going up the hills and I explained two point and how to sit a bit deeper heading down hills and why. I had tried to tell him when we were doing it but Taz didn't make it very easy.

It was time to remount and the guide held my horse first. I hopped on had both feet in the stirrups and he moved on to Mike and Champagne. Taz was ready to leave. I halted him MUCH to his dismay. Then, he decided since I wasn't allowing forward he'd try and flip me over his head and boy did he try. He yanked once and then set his feet, rocked back and YANKED HARD. Thing was, he didn't expect when I had realized what he was going to do and set myself against him and just didn't give an inch. I felt bad - I knew he had a pretty awful bit in but I let him do it to himself. Funny, but he didn't give me even a head shake again after that really. I did check his mouth after the ride and he wasn't hurt. I wanted to check at the time, but didn't feel like it was safe with all the boulders and the jigging horse to dismount. I was glad though I finally had his attention.

We all headed back down the mountain and to the beach. My heart sank. The whole reason I chose the ride was so I could canter on the beach. Mike was not going to be able to canter and I knew if I did there was a good chance his horse might take off the canter too and I wasn't sure he could handle it. Even falling off in the sand wasn't something I wanted - I felt bad enough. He kept urging me but instead we just waded them in the water a bit and headed on on the hills over looking the cliffs and ocean. It wasn't a very long beach anyways...

Mike started trying two point going up the hills. Champange liked that. She liked it a lot. In fact, she liked it so much that she refused to walk forward UNLESS Mike was in two point. Perfect. Seriously, he rode the rest of the ride in two point to keep some forward on his pitiful horse. The guide at least, so I think, took us on a shortcut back to the ranch thanks to Mike and Champagne. Surely though, my new husband was going to divorce me.

Once he was very far behind we were coming down a semi-steep incline on a dirt road and the guide whistled. This was a signal for the string horses to catch up. Catch up Champange did - she broke into a canter downhill with my horse novice husband in two point. I about fell off Taz as they blew by us - Taz was yielding to even just a half halt by then and being a very good boy as far as listening though I let him go as Champagne blasted past.

We rode past a donkey conservation of sorts - there were so many cute little donkeys running wild. Though, I think I was too worried about Mike and he was simply in too much pain to enjoy the last leg of the ride. Boy did he look miserable...

Despite covering much more terrain, but thanks to the shortcut we arrived back at the ranch 20 or so minutes before the other group. Mike was already sore. He declared he'd never ride again seriously, but at least with a laugh. I felt awful and got him a drink.

The other group had been swimming and lounging for an hour and half before they got back on their horses so... they came back in a more jovial mood than my poor husband and I. That made me feel worse. He was sore for pretty much the rest of the honeymoon. I also found out later that um, it's best for guys to not wear boxers when riding but tight-whities, he'd have appreciated that but I didn't know. Oops.

Luckily it all became a joke - in fact he brags about staying on which he did despite ol' Champagne cantering down a hill and rearing.

After some time he's retracted his claim he'll never ride again. Occasionally claiming, jokingly, he's going to go hop on Gator and ride off into the sunset. He didn't divorce me and he didn't make me swear horses off. A 'good sport' when it comes to horses is an understatement as it pertains to my husband. We'll never forget that ride, that's for sure. He also very much earned the title of The Greatest Guy. Ever.

Luckily for me, he really enjoyed snorkeling the next day of the honeymoon... that might actually be what saved the marriage...