Tumbleweed Trials

SStanding at the airport, just people watching. A skill one must learn, to fit in to a society where rainbow strands of hair fly freely, cowboy hats are strange looking in big cities, and preppies wear their clothing in perfect geometrical shapes to match their curved bodies.

Going back to school after twenty years of being away is more nerve racking than trying to find your flight gate with the alphabet going backwards. I stood there staring at my ticket A-35. Shouldn't be so hard. I was at G-10, but running back and forth between gates had me spinning. I found A-10, but going right meant I was leaning towards A-1, going left meant I was suddenly at gate B. I wasabout to give up, when the gatekeeper for A-35 sounded loudly right in front of me. "Last call for alcohol! What luck!" I thought as I grabbed my bags and charged toward the gate like a gangly racing filly.

Inside, my brain was whirring at the thought of going back to the womens college. I was so lucky to have gotten the chance to go. With memories of three hundred sixty head of horses, all different breeds and styles of riding dancing in my head, I ran right through the gatekeepers prompt for my ticket. "You dodo bird." I thought. "Just like a child." I apologised to the lady with a smile of gratitude. (Of course she didn't see it like that. I'm sure she looked at me like I was a trainwreck.)

Blindly I found my seat. Ahh, a window seat. Just what the Dr ordered in such a hasteful moment.

My heart sounded like thunder in my head, as I pondered why, after twenty years of being out of the saddle , had I ever thought I could go back to that school. It was now a university, and a co-ed one at that. A degree in horseback riding was for the youth.. In proper terms, it was considered a Bachelor in Equestrian Science. Too late now, as the plane roared and lurched with turbulance, quivering like a young jumper in flight over a giant oxer. Yep, decision well thought out, I sarcastically mumbled to myself. I leaned back with the weight of ascending godlike security. Through the clouds and into the bright blue yonder.

Seeing the old rickety brick buildings and willow trees on the campustook my breath away,just as it had done before, many years ago as I drove through the gates of the college. "Not much has changed, "I thought, as I found my bearings in front of one of the dorms I had visited the first time I entered that college. It was one the sorority girls called "the misfit dorm". Well heck, as a mature adult, I saw ALL of the dorms as misfit dorms, visioning that rainbow stranded person with a cowboy hat and geometrically perfect clothing at the entrance of each brick building in the quaint little college for women. Ugh, not likely, as I rolled my eyes in thought of that crazy creation I invisioned. Anything to keep my nerves at ease.

I was led non-chalantly to my room, and as I looked back at the resident hall director to say Thank you, I felt my age creeping up to my face with a burning red sensation. Oh no, even SHE thought, "What is she doing here?"

All settled in, I took a stroll to the barn. I reminisced about the peppermints my roommate used to share with me to make friends with each of the horses on campus, during my first year. This time I was empty handed.

As the breeze blew softly on my face, the heavenly scent of horses filled my nostrils, and the thrilling memories rushed through my bones. I felt so vibrant and ready to complete my quest for that degree. The thought of nothing standing in my way to fulfil my dream, gave me the energy I needed to start anew.

As I left the college so many years ago, my tests at the hunter-jumper professional amateur level had been easily passed, yet as naive as I was , the height I reached was worth much more than I had been noticed for by the professional riding team in my country. It was for that very reason, I had left behind a legacy of becoming an olympic athlete that broke my heart and soul for years to come.

Suddenly, I became exhausted, discouraged and what my sports psychologist considered "down in the dumps". It was surely an impossibility for me to become professional at what I loved so dearly, the equestrian lifestyle. I wasn't rich like all the other girls I studied alongside of, but now I had the finances to complete this task and to back my expectations to the fullest. Holding my head high, I ambled back to my dorm to call it a night. There would be plenty of time to get to know my future equine friends in the coming weeks.

The semester went like a tumbleweed in the wind. I definately had my ups and downs, ate a few dirt cods, and dealt with the thorns of age and resistence as I probed forward and challenged my riding skills to the fullest. The memories of my first year of work helped greatly, from the clipping of several horses, to the work study of stall cleaning. Visions of tumbleweeds made me chuckle at the thought of those great balls of barbed wire the stablehands threw for me to clear off the tops of the jumper stalls to earn my semester credits. That was humiliating, as no sorority girl had to do such frivilous things for a job.

I remembered though, how enthusiastic I was, and proud to be part of this ivy league of women. It was a unique chance of a lifetime.

As the year started to unwind, the school planned yet another horse show. This one was a highly sought after show, and the excitement was making me feel as though I were walking on air. I had been to many a show but this one had special visitors. We were getting a chance to compete before the Olympic committee, and I had to put on a proper face. At my age it was my last chance to become one with my dream.

So many pupils had shown up to this event. I drew my horses name with chaotic painstakingly nervous hands. Tumbleweed was actually the name of my horse! I laughed outloud, with no clue as to which horse that was, since this year I hadn't been able to work around each of the horses.

I scurried to the hunter-jumper barn awaiting the heartbreaking detail of having to professionally groom my competition horse within the hour.

I turned the corner to where his stall was listed to be, and saw the most beautifully turned out crimson colored giant beast of a horse, nickering at me with his vibrant star strip snipped face. His markings were astoundingly white and made him ever more a sight to see.

Wow. What luck! This was so different than the hardships I conquered in my first year. I had since learned how to braid, plait, scrub, clip, and clean every inch of a horse, so to have it done for me was a godsended miracle.

My instructor motioned for me to warm up with some small jumps in the warm up arena, so as not to tumble through the course in front of all those professionals when it came to show out on the dance floor.

As I started to pick up a trot, I could feel him quiver beneath me with about as much excitement as a bolt of lightning is to a thunderstorm. I had a good feeling about this. His canter was like floating on a cloud, as we counted our paces through the simple cross rails. Easy boy, I murmured in his ear with delight. Lets not get too hot before the chance to shine in front of the judges.

"Rider number sixtynine please. You are wanted to the front of the arena." I vaguely heard the loudspeaker. Panic stricken I trotted out of the warm up arena and made my way to the course. I looked down through my helmet at one of the riding instructors who worked with me throughout the semester. "Is that my number they called?" I questioned, my emotional state not for the calm in mind. He looked up at me shocked and laughed. "Are you crazy? You don't know the number on your back? How are you to remember the 13 jumps in correct order ? Good luck!"

As I headed toward my first vertical, my mind was already reviewing the route I was to go to finish the course. I wasn't going to screw up this time. As with all competitions, your horse has to trust your direction and I didn't want to let Tumbleweed down. On that cue, my crimson miracle flew through the course with grace of a ballerina with a rocking horse.

Suddenly my right leg went totally numb. I couldn't feel my foot in the stirrups at all. I panicked and stiffened in the saddle. Tumbleweed ignored my reaction and floated over the final combination, We heroically passed the finish line with no faults! No rails even teetered. I was in heaven. I ended on a good note. Despite my age, the odds were against me all around, yet I still came in first place, mentally emotionally and physically. I couldn't get off my horse but hey..noone had to know right?