Icelandic horses have their own agendas.

Riding yesterday was really neat. The horses that we rode on are like none I've ever seen in the States; they were bigger than ponies, but shorter than the typical full-grown horse I picture when I think about riding. Adapted to the climate, Icelandic horses have fur that's really thick and is kept at a longer length than usual. It makes them look sort of stout. And then if you throw a few of them in a snow-covered field they just look beautiful! (see pictures.) 

The group that went consisted of six of us, half of whom had many years of riding experience and the other half who hadn't ridden a horse in their entire lives. These being the circumstances, in our planning process, we opted for a beginner trail so that everyone could enjoy themselves. So. We get to the place and they immediately pair up the experienced riders with horses who are known to be a little more spirited, and the beginners with some mild natured ones. We get a start out on the trail, and right in those first five minutes Stacey and I have assessed that our horses are in no way interested in the mind-numbing boredom of walking nose-to-rump on a trail they've walked a million times. Oh no, on the contrary, our horses would like to push the pace as fast as possible. Before we've even left the barn area the line already has a huge gap separating our horses and the guide with the rest of the group. 

Stacey's horse actually lashes out around halfway through the ride. Frea (her horse) decides that the hill of unscathed snow should be shaken up a bit, and takes a sharp right turn to run around on it while the rest of us suckers are moseying along on the main trail. Nös, my horse, is incredibly jealous...I can tell it takes every ounce of both mine and her energy to resist veering from the path too. For this reason I decide to not take out my camera, but I wish I could get a picture of Stacey and her horse; it looks really pretty, actually, as Frea literally bounces through snow that reaches up to her belly and kicks it up everywhere. 

So that's incident number one...and the tone never really dies down after that. Nös and Frea start walking/trotting, consistently changing places in line with each other. It's obvious that they both want to peel ahead of the guide, but she assures us that, "They know I go first." Right. That's balderdash. As we reach the home stretch, again the three of us a solid 100 feet ahead of the rest of the group, I guess it just becomes too much for Frea. All of a sudden Stacey's horse just TAKES OFF down the 100-yard road leading up to the barn. Well Nös sees this, decides it's simply NOT FAIR that Frea gets to run but she doesn't, so she responds in like kind. So now I'm sitting on a horse running at top speed, faster than I've ever gone on a horse in my entire  life, firmly pulling back on the reins as hard as possible, bellowing, "WHOA!" in sharp, crisp repetition, but Nös has her own initiatives. She wants to leave Frea in her snow. So once I come to terms with the fact that this horse has no intention of paying me any mind whatsoever, I decide to just go with it and enjoy the ride. And we do end up leaving Frea and Stacey in our snow. :)

It was SUCH a rush! Tears were streaming from the corners of my eyes to my hairline, the wind was whipping my face so fast! I loved it. :) So needless to say, taking the beginner's trail wasn't as boring as I thought it might be. 

kt