But, I promise….this is the last horse-related post on this blog this week.
On Monday, Motor Man and I were able to take a friend on her very first trail ride. We’d met Staci a few years ago, but hadn’t really gotten to know her well. About a month ago, Motor Man mentioned to her in passing that I’d been for a trail ride. We then learned that it had been a dream of hers ever since she was a little girl, but she’d never been.
So, my sweet Motor Man set about changing that. He’d been planning a trail ride for me (another birthday celebration) with our friend, Elizabeth, who owns Esperanza Riding Company, at her family farm on the Eastern Shore of Virginia.
You may recall that, two years ago, we went for a ride there, and I blogged about it in this post.
Then, in January of this year, we visited Elizabeth and rode with her at her second location in Vieques, Puerto Rico. My post about that wonderful experience is here.
So Monday morning, we headed to Elizabeth’s farm. It was a gorgeous morning for Staci’s first trip across the Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel.
Just a few miles up Route 13, and we arrived at Eyreville, Elizabeth’s family’s farm.
She gave us riding instructions and matched us up to our horses. My horse was Fuego (which is Spanish for ‘fire’).
Staci rode Mateo, and in this picture, Elizabeth is making sure everything is right with her stirrups, etc. The white horse, Radar, was Elizabeth’s ride.
And we were off. There were a couple of gates Elizabeth had to open, so she led Radar for just a bit.
Motor Man staged, so that he could get a picture of us along the edge of one of the newly planted soybean fields. Other than flies and mosquitoes pestering the horses in some areas, we had a perfect ride.
Elizabeth stopped us to get photos at one of the many picturesque spots we passed.
And Motor Man was waiting, camera in hand, for our return.
We stopped for lunch at Kelly’s Pub in charming Cape Charles just a few miles away, and topped off our meal with ice cream cones at Brown Dog Ice Cream.
I have only one regret from the day: I didn’t get a picture of us with Motor Man, our chauffeur and photographer. Guess that means we just have to plan another trip.
~These Days Of Mine~
these days of mine 