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limbs of oak trees I was still on she evidently thought she had run
far enough. When she stopped I immediately dismounted and walked her
back home. The two men in the car were concerned and met me to make
sure I was OK. I was. A little shaken from the experience, not so
much that the next Sunday, I was back in the saddle. What a life. My
butt still gets sore when I think of riding a cavalry saddle. On a
trip down to the White Springs area I would like to try to locate the
old saddle as a family heirloom. Really, I would like to go horseback
riding with June on the same old dirt roads again. Although that just
might bring back more memories than I could cope with.
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