Stories from the Amazon - Horse in the House
Foxy was my beloved second horse, a chestnut fireball, full of energy, challenging, fun and I loved her maybe more than any other horse I've ever had. She is probably the horse who made me the rider I am today and taught me so much about communication between horse and rider. We had many adventures together. This particular one happened after probably a year or two of owning her when I was around 17 or 18.
Every year in our town, before the annual state fair, there would be a parade down main street. They would usually always start by the train station by the river. Our town was a river town, right on the banks of one of the larger tributaries of the Amazon river. It was called Rio Madeira, or Wood River (translated). Years before I was born they harvested rubber out of the jungles and there was a train that carried the rubber to wherever they took it. This was long before my time though and all that remained was a train station museum and some old tracks and a few really old trains with trees growing up out of them. It was right next to the river and eventually they turned it into a very pretty park area where you could go sit and watch the river or eat dinner on one of the floating boat restaurants.
The area was large and all the local ranchers and their wannabe cowgirl-friends would saddle up horses and ride up the main street all the way to the fairgrounds. It was quite a long ride and took most of the day. Lots of beer and drunk people would be happening as well. I enjoyed it because it gave me the opportunity to ride my horse in a new place and with lots of people and to show off my true cowgirl skills a little too, if I must be honest. To be able to participate in this ride you had to first get your horse into town. Most of the guys with the trucks for hauling livestock were more than happy to grab your horse from your farm on their way into town. Getting the horse back to the farm was the big problem... but we'll get to that part in a little bit.
This particular year, someone had brought Foxy into town for me to be able to ride in the parade. Since I was becoming very well known in the ranching and cowboy circles in our town they all wanted me to participate. Probably also because I was the pretty American girl who had a way with horses. Anyway, I saddled her up along with everyone else and tried to avoid the craziness of that many horses in a crowded area and finally the parade started. It was a crazy mess. Every year was the same. The huge sound trucks were blaring loud Brazilian country style music. Sweaty horses were walking, trotting, prancing, nervously jingling ill fitting bits in their mouths. There always was at least one or two drunk guys showing off their skills with the bullwhip. Some horses didn't mind the loud cracking whip. Some took off down the pavement with their riders hanging on for dear life. Some people had fat, expensive, purebred stallions. Most had average or below average horses in all ranges of thin to fat, well kept to just pulled out of the burr field. Some horses had anywhere from one to three riders. Every third horse you saw was a stallion but I never saw any horse fights and surprisingly very few accidents or injuries.
Crowds of people would line up on main street to watch us parade past. I loved the excitement of it and seeing all the horses. Eventually, hours later, we would finally arrive at the fairgrounds. Horses all covered in sweat and tired and very well mannered by that time.At that point everyone would now have to figure out how to get their horses back to the ranches. Some people would board them at the fairgrounds for the duration of the fair so they could ride around during fair time and show off or attract a girlfriend. Some would haul them home right away. I decided this particular year to ride Foxy back to our house in town and from there figure out how to get her back to our ranch.
We had a huge back yard and the grass was tall and needed to be mowed down anyway so I thought it would work out great. Now our house in town was a half hour bicycle ride from the fairgrounds, if you went pretty fast. It was pretty much on other side of town. So after a bit of a rest and a cold soda, I hopped back on her and we started for home, leaving all the excitement behind. Traffic wasn't too bad and we took the roads that were a bit less traveled. We arrived at the house around late afternoon to discover nobody was home and all the doors were locked, including the side gate that went around to the back yard. Thankfully I had a house key and was able to get in but not a gate key. I had Foxy on the front varanda area but it was rather slippery cement and I didn't think that was too good of an idea.
Our house was very large, by Brazilian standards, as it used to be a cheap hotel. It had a very long hallway with rooms on either side, a small living room in the front and a small kitchen in the back. I decided that since nobody was home, the best way to get Foxy to the back yard was through the house. Cautiously, I led her down the hallway and into the kitchen, a little terrified lest she spook at something and end up with some huge disaster. Thankfully she was well behaved, or maybe just exhausted, and she quietly walked through the house and out the back door. She happily munched down the tall grass in the back yard and my family was rather horrified when I confessed to having the horse in the house!
After a few days of riding her around town, it was time to take her back to the ranch. Being mostly without money and now all the guys with trucks would only take her back there for a rather large sum of money, I decided adventure would be the solution and I'd ride her back to the ranch. It was 17 kilometers out of town, but I still had to ride her through town on rather busy streets to get to the highway where it started the count for 17 km. I told the family my plan and someone was going out to the ranch that day and they thought I might arrive around noon at which point they would be leaving the ranch. I started out at the crack of dawn that day. My saddle was strapped down with extra rope, hoof pick, pocketknife and water bottle. The cars whizzed by us, honking their horns. When we finally got through town to where the highway started we both were drenched in sweat already but at least now we could ride off the pavement and on the side of the highway where it might be a little more peaceful. And indeed it was very nice at the start. We traveled at mostly a walk with some trotting on the good stretches. Until we got to a section where they had chopped the jungle down along the side of the highway. I had chosen to go up this little hill a ways off the highway and didn't see that the jungle was chopped down at the top. By the time we got up there and started picking our way through the fallen trees and vines, I realized that was a huge mistake. Poor Foxy did her best to get through it. I had to get off and help her over trees and cut vines that jumped up and wrapped around her legs. It was very slow and hard going. Unfortunately there was a cliff on the highway side of that mess and I couldn't see any way to get down and no way to turn around either. After a long time we finally made it to the end of the cut jungle. If you've never seen cut jungle and you get a chance to see it, never attempt to walk through it! It's more difficult than any ninja warrior course. At the end of the stretch, there was still the cliff but it was a little shorter and we slid down it into a small creek. Thankfully we both stood in the creek and I splashed water on us both and refreshed us. We finally made it to the ranch by about mid to late afternoon tired to the bone. My ride home had left already so I had to hitchhike back to town.That was the only time I ever attempted that ride from town to the ranch and it was very memorable. We were so tired for days but that little horse took good care of me on that ride.
Every year in our town, before the annual state fair, there would be a parade down main street. They would usually always start by the train station by the river. Our town was a river town, right on the banks of one of the larger tributaries of the Amazon river. It was called Rio Madeira, or Wood River (translated). Years before I was born they harvested rubber out of the jungles and there was a train that carried the rubber to wherever they took it. This was long before my time though and all that remained was a train station museum and some old tracks and a few really old trains with trees growing up out of them. It was right next to the river and eventually they turned it into a very pretty park area where you could go sit and watch the river or eat dinner on one of the floating boat restaurants.
The area was large and all the local ranchers and their wannabe cowgirl-friends would saddle up horses and ride up the main street all the way to the fairgrounds. It was quite a long ride and took most of the day. Lots of beer and drunk people would be happening as well. I enjoyed it because it gave me the opportunity to ride my horse in a new place and with lots of people and to show off my true cowgirl skills a little too, if I must be honest. To be able to participate in this ride you had to first get your horse into town. Most of the guys with the trucks for hauling livestock were more than happy to grab your horse from your farm on their way into town. Getting the horse back to the farm was the big problem... but we'll get to that part in a little bit.
This particular year, someone had brought Foxy into town for me to be able to ride in the parade. Since I was becoming very well known in the ranching and cowboy circles in our town they all wanted me to participate. Probably also because I was the pretty American girl who had a way with horses. Anyway, I saddled her up along with everyone else and tried to avoid the craziness of that many horses in a crowded area and finally the parade started. It was a crazy mess. Every year was the same. The huge sound trucks were blaring loud Brazilian country style music. Sweaty horses were walking, trotting, prancing, nervously jingling ill fitting bits in their mouths. There always was at least one or two drunk guys showing off their skills with the bullwhip. Some horses didn't mind the loud cracking whip. Some took off down the pavement with their riders hanging on for dear life. Some people had fat, expensive, purebred stallions. Most had average or below average horses in all ranges of thin to fat, well kept to just pulled out of the burr field. Some horses had anywhere from one to three riders. Every third horse you saw was a stallion but I never saw any horse fights and surprisingly very few accidents or injuries.
Crowds of people would line up on main street to watch us parade past. I loved the excitement of it and seeing all the horses. Eventually, hours later, we would finally arrive at the fairgrounds. Horses all covered in sweat and tired and very well mannered by that time.At that point everyone would now have to figure out how to get their horses back to the ranches. Some people would board them at the fairgrounds for the duration of the fair so they could ride around during fair time and show off or attract a girlfriend. Some would haul them home right away. I decided this particular year to ride Foxy back to our house in town and from there figure out how to get her back to our ranch.
We had a huge back yard and the grass was tall and needed to be mowed down anyway so I thought it would work out great. Now our house in town was a half hour bicycle ride from the fairgrounds, if you went pretty fast. It was pretty much on other side of town. So after a bit of a rest and a cold soda, I hopped back on her and we started for home, leaving all the excitement behind. Traffic wasn't too bad and we took the roads that were a bit less traveled. We arrived at the house around late afternoon to discover nobody was home and all the doors were locked, including the side gate that went around to the back yard. Thankfully I had a house key and was able to get in but not a gate key. I had Foxy on the front varanda area but it was rather slippery cement and I didn't think that was too good of an idea.
Our house was very large, by Brazilian standards, as it used to be a cheap hotel. It had a very long hallway with rooms on either side, a small living room in the front and a small kitchen in the back. I decided that since nobody was home, the best way to get Foxy to the back yard was through the house. Cautiously, I led her down the hallway and into the kitchen, a little terrified lest she spook at something and end up with some huge disaster. Thankfully she was well behaved, or maybe just exhausted, and she quietly walked through the house and out the back door. She happily munched down the tall grass in the back yard and my family was rather horrified when I confessed to having the horse in the house!
After a few days of riding her around town, it was time to take her back to the ranch. Being mostly without money and now all the guys with trucks would only take her back there for a rather large sum of money, I decided adventure would be the solution and I'd ride her back to the ranch. It was 17 kilometers out of town, but I still had to ride her through town on rather busy streets to get to the highway where it started the count for 17 km. I told the family my plan and someone was going out to the ranch that day and they thought I might arrive around noon at which point they would be leaving the ranch. I started out at the crack of dawn that day. My saddle was strapped down with extra rope, hoof pick, pocketknife and water bottle. The cars whizzed by us, honking their horns. When we finally got through town to where the highway started we both were drenched in sweat already but at least now we could ride off the pavement and on the side of the highway where it might be a little more peaceful. And indeed it was very nice at the start. We traveled at mostly a walk with some trotting on the good stretches. Until we got to a section where they had chopped the jungle down along the side of the highway. I had chosen to go up this little hill a ways off the highway and didn't see that the jungle was chopped down at the top. By the time we got up there and started picking our way through the fallen trees and vines, I realized that was a huge mistake. Poor Foxy did her best to get through it. I had to get off and help her over trees and cut vines that jumped up and wrapped around her legs. It was very slow and hard going. Unfortunately there was a cliff on the highway side of that mess and I couldn't see any way to get down and no way to turn around either. After a long time we finally made it to the end of the cut jungle. If you've never seen cut jungle and you get a chance to see it, never attempt to walk through it! It's more difficult than any ninja warrior course. At the end of the stretch, there was still the cliff but it was a little shorter and we slid down it into a small creek. Thankfully we both stood in the creek and I splashed water on us both and refreshed us. We finally made it to the ranch by about mid to late afternoon tired to the bone. My ride home had left already so I had to hitchhike back to town.That was the only time I ever attempted that ride from town to the ranch and it was very memorable. We were so tired for days but that little horse took good care of me on that ride.
I'm sure your family was thrilled to know you had your horse in the house. Good thing she didn't leave a "deposit" in the hallway! 🤣
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