When I was 7 years old, and barely reached the underbelly of a horse, I began one of the few sports that had a lasting interest for me; horseback riding. From years in the U.S. Pony Club, through summer work at ranches, to the Intercollegiate Horse Show circuit, and ultimately ownership of my own horse, the sport has endured in my life.
Why? There is the smell of hay and freshly oiled leather, the squeak of the saddle, nickers in the barn, and riding in the silence of the early morning with no sound but the steady breath of the horse. These and other little things make me feel a sense of calm and peace around horses.
And then there is the riding itself. There's no doubt that it's amazing exercise, but every once in a while, we find that perfect balance, perfect energy, and perfect agreement with the horse. It's a weightless and magic moment that compels us to keep riding.
Vermeer, my horse from 2000-2003, is shown below. He was a 6 year-old Dutch Hannoverian Gelding, 17 hands tall. Left: taking a break at a dressage show. Right: early morning hack at the stable.

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