On The Road

 

With apologies to Mr. Kerouac, I've been on the road lately, driving across the Texan country to visit the sick, tend the flock and take care of business.

And mess with tractors. That aside, the road took me to an old friend, Colonel E, who was languishing on the sickbed. Except that he wasn't. Full recovery, please. We prayed.

It was a good visit and full of memories. Many, many ride outs from his place to Lake Waco and plenty of racing to boot. 200 yard gallop? On! And beyond, to the trail by the little regional airport where you could really pick up steam and go flat out. Fast and flat. Big fun.

But that was then. Yesterday was communion from the reserved sacrament and with that, the true light which enlightens every man coming into the world entered my friend's home and soul.

The people, you understand, that sat in darkness saw a great light. Praise God for that.

Ride On,

LSP

The Rise And Fall Of LSP Pt. I - The Horses

It seemed like a good idea to go riding on Friday, so that's what we did. Drove over to Waco, saddled up a couple of half-wild Arabs and went out in the round pen for a warm up.  There you have it, the rise of LSP.

All went well, so we went out in the pasture and stepped it up a bit. Fine, except that the horses weren't used to doing anything outside of a walk/trot in the round pen.

Looks Normal is Crazy

Well I didn't care and urged the uncollected, nervous, rebellious Arab forward and, when she started tossing her head and trying to get back to the barn, I turned her in a tight circle away from temptation. She hated that and went full retard horse spastic at the top of the circle and popped me off. Sic transit, the fall of LSP.

I hit the ground on my hip like a bergan full of wet charcoal landing on concrete, then got up and took stock. Could I walk? No, the old left leg was as mutinous as the horse herself. So I stood there, catching my breath.

Good Arab

The Recruit caught up soon enough, led his better behaved beast back to the barn and brought the truck around with BE. They levered me into the cab and drove to the nearest walk-in ER, which took an X Ray.

Oh dear, the upper femur was fractured below the ball joint joining the bone to the pelvis, a nasty injury, especially if an unstable bone slices through an artery and you bleed out. That hadn't happened, thank God.

Recruit Wearing a Helmet Riding an Arab

Next thing you know a busted up horseman's in an ambulance heading towards Waco central and surgery.

Moral? Never Trust An Arab or You Don't Bounce Like You Used To.

To be continued...

LSP

Good Arab

Good Arab?

Some Arabs are bad, very bad; they try to kill you. Be-Bop's not like that, he just confuses the signal to canter for "run as fast as you bloody can and devil take the hindmost." Don't get me wrong, running full tilt 'cross country is a great way to spend the morning, but who's in charge? The Arab? Or some other thing? Well, it was a weird mixture this a.m., which landed Be-Bop on a lunge-line. Long, but a line none the less.

Whatever; it was neat to drive out as the sun was rising.

Just get out of town.

Tack Room

A few cups of coffee later it was time to ride on, in the beautiful cool of the morning, until 'canter' = "mad rush for the nearest non-existent exit". We'll have to practice and get it right. Until then, check out this ghost town chapel. Eerie, I always think.

On Remembrance Day the Battle Flag of the Army of North Virginia flies above this chapel. That's a heck of a thing.

Stay on the dam horse.

LSP