Billy Bucking Bad Ass

May 29th, 2009: Arriving in the small coffee town of Salento, I kept hearing from the other backpackers on how great the horseback rides were. Not too keen about horses – a trust issue – I decided to go against my better judgment and take one for a spin around the countryside. When our trail guide pulled up to the side of the hostel, we were officially introduced to a mob of some vertically challenged horses. This was good – less distance to fall - unless they have a short horse complex and some good bucking power. I don’t smoke, chew, listen to Bruce Springsteen on a daily basis, wear tight jeans or enjoy drinking Budweiser…nor, do I pretend or inspire to be the Marlboro man, so I was not ashamed to ask for a horse that enjoys a good game of Follow the Leader.

A few minutes into our 3+ hour horseback ride, I thought something was wrong with my horse’s shoe since he was lagging so far behind the others. Leaning over looking at his hoof, I tried to see if I could spot a loose shoe flopping around. There seemed to be no obvious issues. If I was a gambler, I would have placed a bet that he was gravely ill or injured. When the others would get too far ahead, I would out of necessity, painfully give my horse some body blows with the back of my heels complimenting it with a loud self made tapping noise. My kicks or noises did not phase the horse. Kicking him harder…moving the strikes up and across his body hoping to locate a soft spot, he continued to ignore my requests showing no signs of even thinking about speeding up. After about 20 minutes of the horse’s defiance, the guide decided to swap horses. I didn’t want to at first, but it was too late…he already dismounted his horse and was standing by to take over mine.

Getting on my new horse Billy, he turned his head glaring back, giving me..."the eye." My vision of a relaxing trip, resting back in the saddle, suddenly...vanished - though a new sense of excitement was introduced to the ride. Off we went leaving a cloud of dust. I attempted to slow him down, pulling back on the reigns. Not working, I tested his ability to perform verbal commands as I barked the simple four lettered word, “WHOA!” - obviously, he did not understand English. Seeing a blur go past me, I realized it was my...first horse? He must of had...a 20 minute stomach bug.

A smile cracked through my face of terror as I thought, “I am actually on a real horse – a real short horse…but a real horse.” My simplified definition of a real horse is one that doesn’t bury their nose deep into the anus of the lead horse and every so often, wants to test the rider for dominance.

Billy did not seem to be that friendly with the others. His lack of social skills had me out casted from the rest of the group. Whenever someone would come close to us, “Billy Bucking Bad Ass,” would decide to perform a two legged back kick in the direction of the offender – sometime multiple kicks. As he performed his tantrums, my right hand naturally locked to the horn of the saddle as I would ineffectively pull back the reigns.

Pushing his need for dominance, Billy kicked my guide who I thought held a permanent smile. His face quickly transformed -inverting his smile he reached for his rope that was coiled along his saddle. Raising the rope in the air, giving a war cry...he came at my horse - my slow motion button was engaged. Coming at us, we quickly moved sideways stumbling down the hillside as Billy was attempting to escape a well deserved beating. My eyes, looking as if I was an owl, I yelled at the guide in a language he seemed to understand, “NO – NO – NO - NO – NOT NOW!” Seeing my fear, he controlled his brief but justifiable anger and stopped short of contact, letting my horse go without any disciplinary action. Asking me if I wanted to switch back to my previous horse due to...bucking Billy’s poor attitude, I hesitated for a brief moment and said…no. Saving my horse from a brutal beating, I would have thought he would have given me thanks and praise by not kicking anyone else anymore...silly - silly - silly me.

Tensely sitting in the saddle, the trails would exhaust me just by seeing Billy doing all of the work as he would power up the gigantic hills, slide down the loose rocky trails and plow through the rushing steams. The fancy foot work over the rocks and boulders was quite impressive. Without being issued a helmet, it was slightly nerve wrecking doing this without using any protection. I should make an investment in my health and just buy one. I could wear it everywhere…on the horses, in the buses, taxis, rivers and even strolling around town to help protect my head from low ceilings and mischievous birds.

Riding ahead of the guide, the trail broke off in two directions. Deciding to follow the horse that was in front of me, I went to the left. The guide was yelling something but by the time we stopped, we were resting on a narrow trail that hugged the river that was about 16 feet below us. His yells became more frantic…we all looked at each other with lost looks on our faces. Disembarking his horse, he ran past us to the front horse and pulled the horse down the trail as the rest of us followed…finding out later that we were on a extremely weak unstable part of the riverbank - reason 1,104 to learn Spanish.

I really like these short horses. Perhaps I will be doing this again sometime soon in a different area, but now with just a bit more confidence. After riding Billy Bucking Bad Ass…I am not sure if I will ever be happy on those pony rides at the annual State Fair.