Guide Me On This Road.

About me:

22. Colorado.

Rider. Climber. Adventurer. Film Maker.

go-climb-the-mountains asked: I really enjoy your blog! And your most recent post. I admire women who carry bear mace, haha :) Keep dressing like a lumberjack!

Thank you so much! I can’t believe I missed your blog, it’s very lovely.

I could bang my head on a table for days.

I’m not ready to handle being a desirable female adult. Is this what being a woman is all about? because I am not okay with that.

Stop cat calling me and hitting on me. I dress like a lumberjack and smell like a horse to keep your kind at bay.

I carry bear mace, friends. Stand down.

I was walking Mr. Tuscany around and thought it’d be a good idea to let him roll in the deep arena sand. So I put him in there and he wouldn’t roll with the lead rope attached so I unclipped his lead rope and closed the gate and the next thing I know he’s flying around the arena like a bat out of hell.

And I’m standing there with my arms crossed saying “Whoa you idiot! You haven’t galloped in over a year you are going to have an aneurism. Stop.”

He’s still got it.

allthingseurope:

Belluno, Italy (by winterriot)

allthingseurope:

Belluno, Italy (by winterriot)

(via countryforthesoul)

naturalsceneries:

A gathering snow storm in Sneffels Range Colorado  by Scott Fricke

naturalsceneries:

A gathering snow storm in Sneffels Range Colorado by Scott Fricke

Soo here's this...

diary-of-a-junior-rider:

I was talking to this girl who rides at my barn. She’s older than me, but still young, probably about 25-26ish. She’s the type of rider that I could go out to the barn and she’d be galloping bareback through the field without a bridle or jumping the ditches and banks…

When I was a drill rider, we would perform a liberty drill. So 25 riders galloping around a ring with no tack in a perfect pattern. I only rode my drill horse once a week, because that’s just how the organization worked. We had to know our horse or else disaster. So one day, the leader of the drill got us going around in a big circle, and we were going a little bit too fast. My horse tripped, I came off over his shoulder and literally fell right between his front legs. No way in hell he could miss stomping all over me.

But I didn’t feel a single hoof step down. The horse behind me got me with all four hooves, thankfully I was able to walk away with bruises. But what amazed me the most was what the rider of the horse behind me said.

"Your horse went straight for your head and splayed his legs out like a f***ing bird trying not to step down."

And she was right. I had a huge scrape on my helmet from where his hoof slid off and my poor horse nearly broke his leg to stop that hoof from coming down. This was a horse that had run his previous rider through a metal fence trying to dump her, a horse sent to us because he was “a heartless savage”.

Horses are just like humans; You know your true friends when they have the chance to hurt you and they choose not to.

paganroots:


By Gullinbursti