Personal Narrative: My House At Blacks Hill Stables

The three beat gait was stuck in my head, like so many hammers pounding on my skull. “Ow,” I groaned, as I slowly got to my knees. Earlier that day, I had been taking horseback riding lessons. I was at Blacks Hill Stables. Usually, I ride Noelle, but this time, I am riding Bart. Bart is quite a character, we joke that if he had a voice, it would be really deep and slow. We always talk to him like that. Bart walks like a turtle. However, even if he goes slow, he really is a beautiful horse. He is about fifteen hands and is brown like a roasted chestnut. He has a thick white blaze down his face, three white socks on his legs, and black points. I had gotten to the stables, and it was my lucky day. Bart is somewhat known for being a dirtball, I remember one time when my riding partner had to brush him for fifteen minutes and he was still dirty. Luckily, I did not have to brush him very much. When I was done putting his tack on, I walked him down to the big ring. There are two riding rings at Blacks Hill Stables. There is the small ring and the big ring. The big ring is for more experienced riders that need more space to canter, that was

We go around that ring, me constantly squeezing with my legs to keep Bart going. I was not controlling Bart as well as I could. He was cutting corners and leaning in. As we are about halfway around the ring, I am still not in the rhythm, and something strange happens. I feel myself flying through the air, flipping as I fall. It felt like forever, though I know it was only a few seconds. I landed hard, hitting first my head and tumbling, surprisingly, in a sitting up position. Oww, I thought, as I surveyed my sand-encrusted half chaps, and tried to dust myself off. By now, Kat had come over and seemed worried. She asked me if I could stand, Luckily I could, and she asked if I could feel my legs, and I could. Kat said that I was probably fine, so I could keep riding. I was scared to get back on Bart, but I did