It’s funny how that ‘phrase, while always true, is so much more comforting in the hard times. I was looking at the ponies yesterday, Saint Finehorn with her holy withers – Jesse James’ coat of flames even more pinto than before – realizing how much reconditioning we all have ahead of us, hoping that the rest of the healing can happen as we progress, slowly, out of this rocky desert and the ever increasing heat. And I was remembering a conversation I had with my Mom 4 summers ago. She and Dad had been in a car accident and Mom had fractured 3 vertebrae; I went home to play nurse. It was pretty intense. A few months into the healing process Mom recalled her broken arm of a year and a half earlier, my dad’s hip replacement between that accident and this – it all just piled up and she wondered out loud if life was just going to be like this from now on - injuries and pills and hospitals and pain. I’m afraid I didn’t have anything very profound or useful to say at that moment. Things were pretty bleak and there was simply no way to know. That was reality.
I’ve been living in my own version of that reality for much of the past two months. Wondering if the ponies will ever fully recover. Wondering if it’s just going to be like this from now on. And then I think about my Mom, and how she answered her own question. The very next summer, there was my Mom, on a week long bike tour of the Czech Republic with her little sister. On top of the biking, she wrote back: “We have walked so many miles our calf muscles ache – how strong we will be… “ It’s good to have such intrepid footsteps to follow.
I am aiming for a very early departure on Thursday morning to beat the midday heat. I have promised Finehorn that she will carry less than 100#. New and improved padding is in place for both steeds. A brand new Mutha Hubba tent awaits! Next stop – Gillard Hot Springs – 70 miles from here. We can do this.
and we’ll rest when we need to…