The River Ride - part one

Photo Credit - Vixs

Often after a long days work, a few of us would saddle up and go for a relaxing ride along the beach. There is nothing more quaint, than a ride on a pristine white sandy beach with crystal blue water washing on the shore. The continual roll of the waves caressing your inner soul peacefully.


That day, I decided to ride bareback so I could take my horse, Bindi, in for a swim. Swimming a horse is an amazing experience, you put your feet on the horses chest and hold on up near the bridle. Their power in the water as is out, is awe inspiring and the way they propel you through the water like the bow of a ship is pure unbridled strength.


Six of us were experienced horse riders, but one girl was a beginner and no one seemed to take heed except me. I kept a close eye on her, as the horse she was riding could be a handful.


We got to the main beach and the tide was out, which meant we could cross the river with ease. However, none of us were aware that within minutes of us crossing, the tide turned and turned into a raging torrent, leaving us stranded on the other side.


We were unaware of our misfortune until I noticed the waves were crashing further up the beach than normal. A panic surged through me like the tide and I stopped everyone.
“We have to go back, I think the tide has turned and we are going to get trapped,”
Everyone agreed although a little disappointed that the laughs and fun were cut short.


A boy of fourteen began to panic, he said that he couldn't swim and was scared of the river being in full flood to cross. I assured everyone we would be ok, as the eldest of the group they all looked to me. However the young boy spooked himself and took off at a mad gallop. The young boy's horse was a tall ex racehorse with an unusually high wither. As I galloped along side him, I noticed his saddle slipping back, but by the time I could tell him, it had slipped all the way back to the horses tail and the boy fell off. The horse gripped by fear changed direction and galloped directly into the sea. The saddle fell off down his back legs and tripped the horse, who fell beneath the waves. He was found several hours later eating grass at the local caravan park. He was ok, less his ordeal.


I pulled my horse up to check the boy was ok, the others had stopped to help, he was badly winded but no broken bones.


My ears filled with the screams blowing on the wind and I saw the beginner rider having no control over her horse as it bolted. Now the rule is: you never chase a bolting horse, as the bolting horse thinks it becomes a race and goes faster.
Afraid she would fall off, I sensed a disaster about to happen and cringed at the thought. I made a split second decision knowing the rule of chasing down bolting horses. This was an exception and I had had experience chasing bolting horses and knew Bindi could catch him.


Bindi reared as I dug my heels into his flanks and did my horsey noise...”sssssss,”
Within a few strides we were in full gallop.

As I was approaching the beginner rider I could see the river swollen with the high tide. I knew this wasn't going to end pretty.
“Pull on your reins...pull on your reins,” I continually shouted at the frightened girl. But fear gripped her and she could not hear me.


To be continued...

Read part two