West Coast Friendship: Part One

Gray skies, a slight headache, and nothing to do. I'm feeling story-time coming on once again...

I think I made it clear enough at the end of The Story that Never Was that, once Jake left, I did not stay long at Carousel Farms. At that point in my life, I was a very immature rider, and I think as you compare that story with my life today, you can tell the difference between the insecure, unguided child I was and the confident horseman I am today. I owe a great part of that equestrian metamorphosis to a wonderful riding instructor I happened to stumble across after my departure from Carousel Farms. She was a woman by the name of Maura, and this is the story of how I found her--and, in the process, found myself.

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Flash, for a moment, back to Carousel Farms. It was a time after Jake had been sent away, when my lessons were being taught by college students trying to work off their board fees. Carousel Farms was hosting a weekend schooling show for local riders, and though I wouldn't be competing, I decided to go and watch for the fun of it.

I was walking around the grounds with a friend mine before the Saturday morning classes began when I heard someone call out, "Abigail?" I turned for one second, and then did a double-take, because the girl who had just called my name was leading an absolutely stunning chestnut paint horse and looked very much like my old friend Reyna, whom I had once gone to school with. Only Reyna, as of the last time I saw her, had never been on a horse in her life.

It took a bit of an explanation on her part for me to realize that yes, it truly was Reyna, and yes, she did now own this overly-expensive, breathtaking horse. (Life likes to be unfair, but what it loves more than anything is to rub my face in it.) Apparently, she had been taking several lessons a week for the past year, briefly engaged in a two month lease with a flighty mare, and then settled on buying the gelding. The sale had only been final a week.

I gave her a tour of Carousel. The grounds are fairly big for a city barn, and it can be hard to find everything your first time there. As we walked around, Reyna kept up a commentary on the barn. "Oh, you don't have warm water in the wash rack? My horse is used to warm water." "This is place so big. You don't get to know anyone. At my barn, we're like family." "How many rules do y'all have here? Everywhere I turn, there's more rules posted!"

It was slightly irritating, although I wasn't fan of the barn myself either. I was, at this point, idly looking around for a new place to ride. The location where I live is not horse country, and I knew of all the local barns- I also knew there was no place I truly wanted to ride. But, out of curiosity, I asked Reyna what barn she and her horse happened to call home.

"Oh, I ride at Magnolia." Of course. That explained it. I knew several people who rode at Magnolia, and they were all stuck up about it. It seemed the one thing that barn guaranteed to all their students was a lesson in gloating. Which was slightly amusing, because they seemed to get all the cast-off trainers and horses from Carousel Farms.

And so commenced my day of hearing praises sung about the glorious Magnolia, and how Reyna could not have been happier to be there. I simply rolled my eyes at most of it, chalking it up to exaggeration and snobbery, but what did pique my interest was hearing that their former trainer, Alexis, had left. I had ridden briefly with Alexis at Carousel Farms years before; she had been my trainer at my first real show and, after telling me nothing about what to bring or what to wear, screamed at me in my face for wearing the same attire I wore to lessons. I was all of about nine years old. I never did like Alexis much after that.

So the first day of the show passed with me hearing about Reyna's wonderful horse and wonderful barn, but also of how she was in between trainers and how she hoped her new one would be good. The second day didn't go much differently, only this time Reyna actually had classes to compete in, and, at the end of the show, she and her mom offered me a ride home.

"We only have to stop at Magnolia first to put the horse up," she clarified. "If you don't mind."

Little did I know, those were the words that would change my life.

To be continued.