by Cecile Cinco
I was probably 13 or 14 then. We were in Baguio City, sometime in September or October. The whole family went horseback riding at the Wright Park where horses go around with or without a guide.
The first few minutes with the guide was ok. I thought it was actually boring because the horse was just walking as the guide held the rope. He actually asked me if I’d like to be left alone. I agreed. The guide left but the horse stood still for about 10 minutes. My time is running out and so is the money which is paid by the half hour.
I tried every whoa and hiya but it would not budge. I tried my heels against its sides with matching tsk-tsk-tsk and it moved…actually faster than I could handle. It was running (well, faster than galloping) beyond my control and the guide was far away from me. I tried every command I could imagine but it would not stop. The next thing that I did was embrace the horse by the neck. It stopped. Great!
When I released my embrace, it went faster than galloping again. I embraced it again and it stopped again. The third time I was looking for the guide while I was embracing the horse. I learned later that my command was to make the horse run instead of making it stop.
That was quite traumatic for me. That was my last ride, actually. I have thought to overcome my fear but I never had the opportunity. Actually I admire equestriennes. Seeing them in breeches is really cool. It makes women being able to do what men can do more visible. It gives me a positive outlook that I will be able to ride a horse again. That I can.
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