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Featured Contributor Pam Wilson
My First Trail Ride - Don't Lose the Stirrup and Shock the Cowboy
by Pam Wilson
I had plenty of experience walking next to horses when my son's early intervention center offered therapeutic horseback riding that was excellent physical therapy. The horses carried our children up and down the country roads, the PT on one side and a volunteer, usually a mom, jogging along on the other side. Unexpected obstacles in my path made me glad that my stongest exclamation was a slightly milder version of Winnie the Pooh's "Oh, bother."
Our next opportunity came along at a family camp near White Pass on Mount Rainier, Camp Prime Time. Their brochure that described it as a camp experience for families of children who were 'partially disabled' and the spirit of that phrase was reflected throughout the weekend. One of the highlights of that weekend was a corral ride at a stable about half a mile from the camp.
A volunteer lifted up our children and led around the big horses; others would jog around alongside if the child or family requested it. Some families and older children signed up for the trail ride. Waiting families could sit around picnic tables and drink lemonade while our children enjoyed finding little frogs in the shallow gullies near the corral. One year a cowboy with a trick pony gave us an informal show that was one of the highlights of my life.
Another was the year my good friend Char, and her lovely daughter, Jody, came along to the camp with us. Jody wanted to go out on the trail ride, so I offered to accompany her. It may have been that both of my children had graduated to the trail ride the year before, so I thought it would be easy enough.
I walked up to the person in charge to request a slow and steady mount as I had not been on a horse for many years, but found that he was already hearing the same thing from another rider's mother.
It occurred to me that my friend's daughter should get the most gentle horse, rather than the other mother, so I eased in to that conversation and joked about the other mom and I drawing straws before they chose the third most gentle mount for the little girl with CP. That drew a nice smile from the cowboys, but the other mom was actually quite frightened and insisted that since she got there first, we should line up behind her.
As luck would have it, they did find a horse for my friend's daughter first, and then the other mom. They brought one out for me who looked tall as a building, and explained that its rider needed to carry a stick to keep it from straying off the trail for snacks. Once I was on top, they gave me what I think was a sawed off broom handle and put me in the line.
My children waved at me from the picnic tables and my friend was laughing but I felt I made an impressive spectacle as they finished mounting up children and parents. One of the cowboys reminded me to use the stick if I needed to and I told him I would pretend the horse was a special ed administrator with a lack of imagination, no problem. This got a big laugh from the other parents, who each seemed to have a particular administrator in mind.
When we started on the ride, it was glorious. The trail wound through the woods, across gullies and through brush where it was barely a trail at all. My horse did want to stop every so often, and I did tap it with the stick several times. Thankfully it responded to a gentle tap. The tastiest bushes seemed to grow on steepest grades.
I hardly had time to think about how brave and strong my children had been to ride the therapeutic horses at the early intervention center when they were small, and how adventurous they had been to go on the trail ride and come back so exhilarated and happy. Its a wonderful and peaceful feeling to have a horse carry you through beautiful country like that, and quite sociable to be on a trail ride with other people who appreciated the experience as much as I did.
My idea to sign us all up for regular trail rides back home was interrupted when I lost my right stirrup just as we were descending into a wide gully that crossed our trail. Holding on for dear life, and using my stick to help keep me balanced on the right part of the horse, I heard a string of words come out of my mouth that would have made my cousins in the construction trade blush.
I had heard the cowboy behind me say "I'm coming to help" as the stirrup got away from me, but I found it again just as we started up the other side of the gully. I looked around to thank the cowboy and to say I was ok, but words failed me when I saw the stunned look on his face. I remembered the words that tumbled out when I thought I was going to fall off the horse, through the sticker bushes, onto rocks far down into the valley on that side of the trail. Since then, I have thought many times about what my last words on this earth might be. Nothing to shock a cowboy, I hope.
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Do you know an organization or group that would be interested in 'adopting' a cabin where families stay for their weekend? Read more about current opportunities to participate in or support Camp Prime Time at http://www.campprimetime.org
Camp Prime Time is hosting a dinner and auction on November 17, 2007 at the Yakima Valley Visitor and Convention Center. For more information, see http://www.campprimetime.org/specialevents.html
by Pam Wilson
I had plenty of experience walking next to horses when my son's early intervention center offered therapeutic horseback riding that was excellent physical therapy. The horses carried our children up and down the country roads, the PT on one side and a volunteer, usually a mom, jogging along on the other side. Unexpected obstacles in my path made me glad that my stongest exclamation was a slightly milder version of Winnie the Pooh's "Oh, bother."
Our next opportunity came along at a family camp near White Pass on Mount Rainier, Camp Prime Time. Their brochure that described it as a camp experience for families of children who were 'partially disabled' and the spirit of that phrase was reflected throughout the weekend. One of the highlights of that weekend was a corral ride at a stable about half a mile from the camp.
A volunteer lifted up our children and led around the big horses; others would jog around alongside if the child or family requested it. Some families and older children signed up for the trail ride. Waiting families could sit around picnic tables and drink lemonade while our children enjoyed finding little frogs in the shallow gullies near the corral. One year a cowboy with a trick pony gave us an informal show that was one of the highlights of my life.
Another was the year my good friend Char, and her lovely daughter, Jody, came along to the camp with us. Jody wanted to go out on the trail ride, so I offered to accompany her. It may have been that both of my children had graduated to the trail ride the year before, so I thought it would be easy enough.
I walked up to the person in charge to request a slow and steady mount as I had not been on a horse for many years, but found that he was already hearing the same thing from another rider's mother.
It occurred to me that my friend's daughter should get the most gentle horse, rather than the other mother, so I eased in to that conversation and joked about the other mom and I drawing straws before they chose the third most gentle mount for the little girl with CP. That drew a nice smile from the cowboys, but the other mom was actually quite frightened and insisted that since she got there first, we should line up behind her.
As luck would have it, they did find a horse for my friend's daughter first, and then the other mom. They brought one out for me who looked tall as a building, and explained that its rider needed to carry a stick to keep it from straying off the trail for snacks. Once I was on top, they gave me what I think was a sawed off broom handle and put me in the line.
My children waved at me from the picnic tables and my friend was laughing but I felt I made an impressive spectacle as they finished mounting up children and parents. One of the cowboys reminded me to use the stick if I needed to and I told him I would pretend the horse was a special ed administrator with a lack of imagination, no problem. This got a big laugh from the other parents, who each seemed to have a particular administrator in mind.
When we started on the ride, it was glorious. The trail wound through the woods, across gullies and through brush where it was barely a trail at all. My horse did want to stop every so often, and I did tap it with the stick several times. Thankfully it responded to a gentle tap. The tastiest bushes seemed to grow on steepest grades.
I hardly had time to think about how brave and strong my children had been to ride the therapeutic horses at the early intervention center when they were small, and how adventurous they had been to go on the trail ride and come back so exhilarated and happy. Its a wonderful and peaceful feeling to have a horse carry you through beautiful country like that, and quite sociable to be on a trail ride with other people who appreciated the experience as much as I did.
My idea to sign us all up for regular trail rides back home was interrupted when I lost my right stirrup just as we were descending into a wide gully that crossed our trail. Holding on for dear life, and using my stick to help keep me balanced on the right part of the horse, I heard a string of words come out of my mouth that would have made my cousins in the construction trade blush.
I had heard the cowboy behind me say "I'm coming to help" as the stirrup got away from me, but I found it again just as we started up the other side of the gully. I looked around to thank the cowboy and to say I was ok, but words failed me when I saw the stunned look on his face. I remembered the words that tumbled out when I thought I was going to fall off the horse, through the sticker bushes, onto rocks far down into the valley on that side of the trail. Since then, I have thought many times about what my last words on this earth might be. Nothing to shock a cowboy, I hope.
**************
Do you know an organization or group that would be interested in 'adopting' a cabin where families stay for their weekend? Read more about current opportunities to participate in or support Camp Prime Time at http://www.campprimetime.org
Camp Prime Time is hosting a dinner and auction on November 17, 2007 at the Yakima Valley Visitor and Convention Center. For more information, see http://www.campprimetime.org/specialevents.html
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I scarcely knew who I was, and wanted to know everything about who my daughter might be, and how to do everything 'just right' so she would reach her "highest potential." But I was very uncertain how to bathe her, and her adventures with fingernails and my clipping them were beyond my abilities to tolerate or comprehend. My childbirth education instructor saved my life when I asked her whether my daughter was 'colicky' and she told me, "No, not if she ever smiles." Being deliriously in love with my baby and totally fascinated by every expression, sound and movement she made helped get me through the hardest times. My education and work experience, not so much. When I was pregnant with my second child, I thought I'd learned enough to avoid the uncertainties and worries I felt when his sister was a newborn. But instead of a 'natural' birth, he had to be delivered via C-section. And he came with an extra chromosome. He developed jaundice, so he could not 'room in' with me. I dragged myself down to the nursery because I needed to touch and hold him, and when I picked him up found he was attached by wires to a heart monitor. It has only gone downhill, and then up, and then down again, and up, from there. No matter where you are right now, I'm glad you have found SoulSupporter.com, and I hope you will share your story with us, here. Special Needs Children Help and Information http://www.bellaonline.com/site/specialneedschildren The Special Needs Children website at BellaOnline.com offers information, resources and support for families raising children with special needs, developmental disabilities or delays, chronic health conditions and physical challenges. Articles also reflect the interests and concerns of advocates, teachers and other education professionals, medical support staff, human services and emergency response personnel, design professionals, community activists, friends, neighbors and extended family. Pam Wilson's articles have appeared in Northwest Baby and Child, Mothering Magazine, and the Northwest Ethnic News. She is a graduate of the University of California, Berkeley. |
Other Stories from Pam:
A Day at the Park
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Heroes in our Family
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Meditation
My dear friend told me she was spending a few days at a retreat in California to meditate and I was glad for her. While she was
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