Soon after, though, I realize something: in a UTV, I wouldn’t be in this part of the forest behind a “No Motorized Traffic” gate. I wouldn’t have the familiar saddle soreness that reminds me of the trail into this beautiful spot.
And during the ride, whenever he crested a hill or spoke quietly to his borrowed mount, Red, Randy’s eyes shone a little more brightly. By the end of our couple-hour sojourn, you’d have thought the horse and rider were longtime buddies.
Part of our routine is to handle the horses’ feet every day leading up to the visit. If we do our job right, he cusses less than he did during the previous visit.