When I arrived at the barn this morning, my instructor had a western saddle on Francie and we had a great lesson! I respect and admire English equitation, but I'm not nearly as nervous in the western saddle. My instructor, who is all too aware of my fear of falling, often gets creative. Today in the western saddle I felt confident enough to ride with my eyes closed and without reins while my instructor led Francie at the trot. The point of the exercise was to learn to feel the horse's strides and movement, and I would have freaked out (FREAKED. OUT.) being led at the trot with eyes shut and no reins in an English saddle."I love the English style of riding, but I think I might be a cowgirl after all," I told the Wrangler as we waited for a price check on western riding chinks at the tack store this afternoon. (Chinks are similar to chaps but hit the mid-calf instead of running the whole length of the leg. They fasten behind the leg with a few buckles above the back of the knee, which allows the chinks to move more freely below the knee.) After buying my chinks, which can only be described as effing awesome, we swung by the mall on our way home. As I handed the salesperson my credit card at the Chanel store, I briefly wondered if AmEx would flag my account for unusual activity. Chaps and chinks and Chanel...well, I always said that I was an urban cowgirl.
While my riding chinks would have come in handy last week in Montana (you really can tear your jeans on those mountain trails), I'll admit that they're perhaps not a huge necessity here in the OC. But that didn't stop me from wearing them around the house the rest of the day.
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