Checked on the typos, yes they're fixed. Thank you very much. Let me tell you my horse story.
I had a girlfriend that stabled horses for other people to make some extra money. Every week, we'd go down there to ride them, so they could get out of their stable. First time, I pick a horse, and we go clip clopping down the road. All of a sudden, my horse looks right, then just jumps over a barbed wire fence and takes off. He's galloping through the fields and jumping fences. After about a hundred yards, when I realize yelling woah and pulling on the reins ain't gonna do S HIT, I'm just along for the ride. I'm holding on tight because I know if I do come off it'll be on a jump and I'll fall in a barbed wire fence and get kicked in the nuts.
Eventually, he jumps over the last fence and back on to the road. My friends were already there. Didn't realize the significance of that until later. I get off and punch him in the face. He very effectively told me, "I obey you because I CHOOSE to, not because I have to". Good horse.
I wish I'd taken his bit and bridle off at that point, because we didn't need it. Good horse.
I'll tell you another story about a run-away horse. The tale is true, and I wrote it down along with several others stories for my kids and grand kids. I apologize for the length...
I found myself in Hunchun, China in 2002. A good friend of mine, Don, had been contacted by a group out of California that was renovating an old farm there and was turning it into a dairy for relief work. It’s too long and complicated to go into all of the details here, but suffice it to say, Don was a contractor and was asked to go and supervise the construction.
When he got there, he found that they wanted to use horses for work on the farm, and had one lone horse already there. The horse was not broke, of course. They asked Don if he knew anyone crazy enough … I mean willing enough… to fly to China to break horses for them, and he thought of me. So I packed a duffel of clothes and a box with my saddle and gear and caught a plane to China.
What a beautiful disaster. Hunchun sits at the NE tip of China where China and Russia and North Korea all meet. I stood on the banks of the river and looked across the water at the houses in North Korea. We went to the border crossing one day, and there was a brass bar about 2-3 inches wide and several feet long inset into the concrete with NK guards standing on the other side. I asked if I could put one foot across the line, just to say I had been in their country. They said no. So I didn’t.
Anyway, out on the farm, there was a one lane gravel road that ran out to the place and then on past. They had pointed out the road to me where it wound on off into the trees in the distance, and told me Russia was just down that road.
As I said, from a horse training aspect, it was a disaster. I only had a 30 day visa, but I was young and optimistic. It poured rain for 19 days straight. When the rain stopped, we finally got out to the farm and the area I had to work in was tiny, and literally knee deep in black mud and gummy muck. The round pen I was to work the horse in was so frail, the horse just left between the bars when he had enough, saddle and all. I had to really step outside the norm and get creative with my training routine in a hurry.
But I made progress, worked the horse, got him used to the saddle, got him giving to the bit, and eventually was able to mount him. I started riding him easy down the long, gravel driveway and back, not able to take as much time between stages as I normally would have liked because of time restraints, but he was doing fine.
Then, about a week before I had to leave, they bought another horse. This one was a little mare, and she was supposed to have already been broke. I was out of time, and the stud I had been working was nowhere near ready to turn over, so I called in the assistance of my ol’ buddy, Don.
Don had grown up in South Dakota and had ridden on ranches as a kid. I knew he would be fine and could handle himself, so I decided what I needed to do was take the stud out on his first full ride, and Don would ride the mare and come along. Horses are social creatures, and tend to do better when with their own kind.
We ran into a small difficulty right off. I had brought my good saddle with me from home, but there was no saddle for the mare.
Oh. Wait. The Chinese interpreter says there is a saddle here on the farm? Great! Trot it out! This is an unexpected boon.
That’s it?
That’s the saddle?
One of Ghengis Khan’s soldiers rode that very saddle back in the day, I’m sure of it.
No blanket?
No worries. Here, Don. Let’s put this old pillow under that ancient Mongolian saddle and cinch it all down real tight on the back of that little horse that the Chinese interpreter assures us has been broke to ride. What could possibly go wrong?!?
Trust me.
And away we go. Wasn’t too bad at first. The little mare had been ridden before, it was obvious. My stud was wound up tighter that a banjo string, but I figured a few miles walking out down a quiet, back, country road would calm him down. So we let the horses walk easy down to the end of the long drive way, then turned left.
Toward Russia
I had never seen Russia
It seemed like a good idea, to go see Russia.
What could possibly go wrong?
There was an inordinate amount of traffic on that little road that day. And for some reason, every little Chinese car that passed us felt the need to honk a greeting as they went by.
Beep Beep
The stud bunched up. He didn’t like that.
Another car.
Beep Beep
He bunches tighter. I know the feeling that I’m feeling under my saddle. I’ve felt it before. This is not good.
Another car
Beep Beep
The little mare is feeling his mounting agitation, and is feeding off of it. So she’s getting fraction, which is not helping his state of mind.
Another car.
Beep Beep.
I see a building ahead about 100 yards on the right, and all of the traffic seems to be heading there. If I can hold this thing together and get past that building, things should settle down. So we continue on, riding an eight hundred pound stick of dynamite with the fuse lit. Hoping.
We come to the drive that leads to the building. Everyone down the driveway waves cheerfully. We've made it. Home free. I can breath. We’re gonna be fine.
Somebody at that moment chooses to set off a string of firecrackers.
A very large string.
Oh, those silly, mischievous Chinese.
Stud horse didn’t like it. Little mare didn’t like. I didn’t like it. Don hated it. His pillow was slipping.
But we persevered. I controlled stud horse and told him it was ok. Donny controlled the little mare, and told her bad noise doesn't eat good horses.
His pillow slipped a little more.
Gonna be ok.
Moving on.
Past the bad house….
They set off another string of firecrackers.
The stud had done wonderfully up to that point, but that last string of firecrackers was just too much. He decided to leave the country. I saw Don out of the corner of my eye and his little mount and he were having difficulty. His saddle was completely rolling over onto her side and he was trying desperately to pull her in while clinging resolutely to her back in a valiant but futile effort to maintain some sort of control. I tried to reach out and grab her headstall for him, but it was a lost cause. I saw him finally roll off in a ditch, still holding her reins like the good hand I knew he was.
So I gave the stud his head and let him go. In all my years of riding, I’ve never been on a horse that could run faster than I could ride, and this one was no different. He had earned the right, and it would do him good to get it out of his system. He wasn’t bucking (thank-you, Father) and he wasn't heading back to the barn.
So run, you rascal. And I’ll go with you.
Oh.
Wait.
Russia.
I forgot about Russia.
This can’t be good.
A wild-eyed American cowboy on the back of a runaway Mongolian pony in the back country of China showing up at a dead gallop to the Russian border?
The things you see when you don’t have your gun.
We ran for a ways down that gravel road, and I could feel the stress leaving the little guy as he ran it out. I figured I would just try to explain as best I could when the time came, so I settled down to enjoy the ride. We eventually came to a bend in the road, and around that bend the road … stopped.
It just stopped.
There was a very heavy 12’ chainlink fence with barbed wire on top, and on the other side of the fence were trees. and Russia. Russian trees.
I think I was actually a little disappointed.
Soldiers with AK-47’s would have made for a great story.
The horse was run out, so he stopped easily at the sight of the fence, and I stepped down to let him catch his breath. Donny eventually came limping up leading his mare. We got his pillow and saddle back on and re-cinched down, then we both re-mounted and slowly, thoughtfully made our way back to the farm.
The Chinese from the bad house sent their apologies later. They were opening some sort of government office that day and the firecrackers were traditionally set off to scare away bad spirits.
And if bad spirits ride horses, I can see how that might work.
Here in South Louisiana we are full up on ABEARS, shifty, drink lots of beer, try to steal your beads AtMardi Grais, easing in the parade crowd and then pooting on you to get your beads.! 
