In 2006, the same girlfriend invited me to go on a trip with her, her mother, her sister, and her niece, to a little Dude Ranch in New Mexico for a week. A girl’s trip we called Cowgirl Camp. That’s where I met and rode my horse Cinco for the first time. A grade gelding from somewhere in Mexico that this ranch had picked up at an auction. He was chestnut with long legs, a lean build, and mine to ride for the week. He had been trained in the old cowboy fashion, spur his sides and pull on his mouth. He was head shy but didn’t spook at much. There were other ladies at the ranch from all over the US. We went on trail rides, ate together, and did arena activities. Cinco and I were having a great time chasing down cows and crashing through the forest. Now I am pretty athletic, have ridden a few different horses, and when they brought out the barrels I figured this is going to be fun! I have been riding now off and on for two years. Besides I hang out with people who are much more experienced.
We were having a great time running barrels. Although, I had knocked over the third barrel over three times in a row. Cinco knew the pattern and was probably the fastest horse I had ever ridden. (Which isn’t saying that much). I had seen one of our friends and part-time horse trainer run barrels, and if the barrel got a little “tippy” he’d just lean over and steady the barrel so he didn’t have to get off and pick up the barrel. Many of you may already know where this is leading and your right! Sure enough, coming around the third barrel we hit it, and using a severe lack of judgment, I leaned over in the saddle to try and settle the barrel. At the same time, Cinco knew it was time to add speed and run for home. Off balance in the saddle and the horse coming out from underneath me, I never saw it coming. That’s a lack of experience. Of course, I came off, but my foot was caught in the stirrup and ate dirt for about 8-10 feet before my foot came loose. What I remember the most wasn’t the hushed whispers about how stupid I was, pulling dirt out of my buckle (and other places), the pulled muscles in my leg, or my bruised ego. It was how Cinco had stopped a few feet away and was looking at me like hey, why did you get off? I rode very little the rest of the week and walked really funny. Valuable lesson learned. My girlfriend on the other hand was interested in buying the little mustang that her niece had been riding. A great horse for riders of every age and experience level. She threw in Cinco and the horse she had been riding also. They finally accepted but the horse she had been riding had some hoof issues, so she bought Walker, the Mustang, and Cinco.
She had told me that she would bring Cinco back and sell him to one of our horse friends who had been looking for a horse. The horses were brought to California in mid-August, and I went over to see him every chance I got. She had told me that our friend didn’t like the look of him and so she’ll have to find someone else to sell him to. I got to ride him at our local arena for play days, team penning, and trail rides. The whole time I was talking to people and trying to sell him for her. Little had I known he was already sold. My birthday is at the beginning of September; the four of us, my girlfriend and her husband, all went out for a nice dinner to celebrate. Mike S. handed me a birthday card, and they followed suit letting me know my present was in the back of their SUV but they can’t bring it in the restaurant. Inside a birthday card with a small lock of hair, the words read that if I found the horse that matched the lock of hair he was mine! Of course, it was a bit of Cinco’s tail hair. I was beyond shocked! I loved him to death but with our aviation travel and just buying a boat, how could I own a horse that needs his feet to be on solid ground? Apparently, they had this sneaky plan all worked out while we were still in New Mexico. I would be able to board my horse at her house and in return, I would clean stalls, feed, etc. She would take care of him anytime we were out of town. I felt like I won the lottery. Oh, and the present that was in the back of their SUV was a mucking rake.