Originally Posted by Landslide
When I was 13 I fell off the back of a trotting horse setting behind a girl with no saddle and all she was hanging onto was the horses main hair. She was tiny and it was the first time I was on a horse. I got knocked out when I hit the ground and the horse behind us walked on my back leaving hoof prints on it. When I came to people were around me thinking I was in bad shape but I didnít feel anything but a sleight headache from hitting the ground.
So whoís your daddy now wimpy superboooooy?
horses will freak the flip out and kill themselves before they step on you or anything else like that.
You likely got hoofed going off the back
I was riding a horse over an overpass on an interstate highway. He fucking flipped out when we got to the metal expansion joint. We worked for 5 minutes before he got it figured out. The joint on one side was partially paved over.
On the way back we approach that "exposed" joint and he is tense and worried but still moving...... that horse was concentrating so damn hard on the 12" strip of metal and was, at the same time, trying to do me proud by still going towards it about to go over it...... Remember this is over an Interstate Highway.
Out of fucking no where, a yellow plastic Piggly Wigglv grocery bag comes swooping up from left from the interstate below and that horse was putting on the brakes, sliding on his shoes, trying to get the everliving fuck...... just trying to be anywhere else but right there. That yellow plastic Piggly Wiggly grocery bag started chasing us down the right side of the fucking embankment in the same direction of travel of that side of the interstate. The horse was grunting and carrying on, running sideways. He was doing his best to get gone AND still keep an eye on the yellow plastic Piggly Wiggly grocery bag to be sure that fucker wasn't going to clip us.
There was a point going down that embankment I thought that horse was going to do a 360 like little shit dogs do when they get excited. He couldn't decide if he was coming or going but he sure as fuck was not letting that yellow plastic Piggly Wiggly grocery bag get us.
I was pulling on the reigns so fucking hard that his lower lip was bouncing off his breast and just knew were going to start somersaulting down that embankment and roll into traffic. I mean were absolutely getting it down the embankment and I wasn't sure what was about to happen but thank the fucking Lord for little old ladies driving Lincoln continentals because she must have shit her knickers as she came under the overpass and saw us barrelling down that embankment and she laid on the horn.
Horses don't like surprises. When that horn went off, time stopped. It sounded like we were on railroad tracks and was about to get slammed by a freight train. The horse dug in so hard that my nuts literally separated and went around the saddle horn while my head slammed into is neck. Literally my zipper was slightly open and caught on the horn and my fucking jeans kept my ass from going over the head of that horse and slamming into the side of the interstate.
I think it's at that point that the horse was just about to say, fuck all this shit and just suicide straight into traffic..... but that damn fucking yellow plastic Piggly Wiggly grocery bag had not given up. While I was trying to figure out why I was seeing stars and my balls were unwinding from around that saddle horn that damn yellow plastic Piggly Wiggly grocery bag was sneaking up on us from an angle from the bridge. I think the horse thought that we couldn't make it to the lane of traffic to just end it all because the fucking yellow plastic Piggly Wiggly grocery bag had the angle on us.
Did I mention there were frontage roads on both side of this interstate? Well just as quick as we were going down the embankment, we were putting that fucking yellow plastic Piggly Wiggly grocery bag well behind us. It's at this point why I figure out why I hate cutting horses. You are just along for the ride. We were charging up the hill about 45 yards from the over pass and some ignorant mutherfucker was coming down the frontage road not even paying attention. Once again, the brakes come on and here I go again, trying to stay in that damn saddle...... only this time I didn't.
We were coming in at an angle and the horse decided he couldn't jump the truck, couldn't beat it across the road and just decided those fucking brakes have worked so well so far, might as well test those fucker again. Only, he was braking and slightly turning at the same time, because of the truck. Here I go off the left side of the horse. My right boot gives up on the stirrup but as I was twisting off, my left boot thinks like would be a lot safer just staying in the stirrup.... so here I am spinning while coming off the horse and my left leg is still attached. My back is to the horse, my boot caught in the stirrup and I end up in some kind of position that looks like I'm frozen about to do a cartwheel in the women's U.S. gymnastic olympics, right hand firmly planted on the ground, right boot up in the air and left hand thinking it's about to touch terra firma once again.
Guess what? The fucking truck didn't check up. Yes, there was a stop sign where the road crosses at the overpass but I think he actually accelerated through the stop sign rather than stop and further witness the embarrassment that was being had. Who knows if he saw the whole fucking yellow plastic Piggly Wiggly grocery bag chasing us.
So, here I am, on the side of the frontage road next to I-55 in southern Hinds county and I can't get up, can't get down and am so fucking scared of just where that fucking yellow plastic Piggly Wiggly grocery bag is. I'm thinking if that thing tries to attack us just one more time that horse is going to drag me across that frontage road upside down and through the brand new 5 strand barbed wire fence. I can't get my boot out of the stirrup... the horse is kinda standing there breathing like he just ran the Kentucky Derby for the 4th time in 20 minutes and his head is turned looking at me like, "WTF are you doing pretending to be some little gymnast when we got this fucking yellow plastic Piggly Wiggly grocery bag out, who the fuck knows where?"
I decide that the best course of action at this point, and before the next bag attack would be to relieve my boot of my foot. So, to catch up, I'm standing on one foot with one boot still hanging in the stirrup, the horse is looking at me like I WAS THE ONE that was scared of the fucking yellow plastic Piggly Wiggly grocery bag and judging me for getting us into this mess all over a little 12" space of steel.
I get my boot out of the stirrup, put it on and actually look around to make sure that fucking bag wasn't sneaking up on us. There were no cars on the frontage road, no bag... things were looking up. I get back in the saddle and have to still cross the damn bridge to get back to the barn. I get up to the stop sign and that horse was so fucking chill I decide to give crossing the bridge another shot. Not only did he cross the bridge, he intentionally stepped on the expansion plate and kind of double tapped his front shoes, like he was some sort of badass that just went 12 rounds with Mike Tyson and still has both ears.