Here's Grimmy and I at the Oostburg Memorial Weekend Speed and Fun Show yesterday. You can tell by the look on his face that he wasn't too keen on the entire situation. It was his first time to be ridden in public and the whole busy scene was just too much; poor guy was beside himself with all the commotion and people. The atmosphere there was really tense- we had unintentionally picked a show full of really hardcore racers, and all the horses were nuts and ready to run. Even outside of the ring, people were tearing the place up in hand gallops.

We weren't very well received by a few sore people in Oostburg. My horse, a big draft cross, was two hands taller than the little quarab and quarter horse racers and we were absolutely blinded by some of the neon and silver on some of the other people's very Western attire and tack. In my English tack and on my slow, clumsy-eyed Grimm, I stuck out like a sore thumb. Some people were rude enough to comment on me bringing my English horse to a western show, and Grimm's inability to get out of the way of out-of-control barrel horses during freak outs in the walkways almost got ugly a few times. We got our share of nasty stares for being there, which all seemed kind of unfair to me-- weren't Fun shows for having fun?

Generally though, there were a lot of nice people to make up for the poor sports. Many people took a lot of interest in Grimm (like I said, he was an oddity) and a lot of jokes and comments were made in good humor about how he plodded at a little jog around the barrels between the lightning-and-thunder runs of the serious racers. It was a really good time, for the most part, and I'll probably go back next year.

Unfortunately,
about two minutes after this was taken, while Grimm and I were in the ring for our turn at the flag race, something at the announcer's stand spooked Grimm on the home stretch. His little jog busted out into a mad gallop and he let out a serious string of bucking. Despite the fact that my first horse Admiral has given me a lot of bucking practice over the years, Grimm's got a lot of horse power under the saddle, and after some extended flight time I took the fall of my life.

I don't remember falling, but I remember getting up, and not being able to breathe. I woke up on the ground to someone saying "Don't chase him!" (the horse, presumably) and a few minutes later I was on my feet again. No lasting injury or even any bruises, but I scared the bejeezus out of my mom and my friend Autumn. After grabbing Grimm by the bridle, I jogged out of the ring, and was able to compete in the plug race forty-five minutes later. No pictures of the fall, unfortunately, which is my greatest beef with the day.

Now it's a good story to laugh about, and I think everyone in small-town Oostburg saw, because I got a lot of pats on the back for saddling up again.

And a free hamburger, so I guess that's a good day.