September 4, 2009: The Secret Place, Iowa: State #3

Friday was a beautiful day and we took advantage of it by going to “The Secret Place” in Iowa. “The Secret Place” was a beautiful sanctuary almost, with a slightly large lake and weeping willows cascading around it. Wild flowers decorated the shores and there were fields surrounding with trails cut into the wild grasses.

Even Paradise had it’s tree of knowledge. The object we had to worry about was a tree the locals called a Locust Tree. The trees had thorns or spines on them that could be about 3 inches long. The branches, that were full of those thorns, would hang over the trails. It’s not so much that they were painful, because believe me, they were, but they are ‘poisonous’ in a way. Most people who were scratched by a thorn would get a big welt and it swell real bad. I must have been one of the lucky ones not to be effected by that tree. My scratch did not swell or cause a welt.

Trail Riding with Linda is a lot like Riding with Miss Daisy, I bet. We are going along and suddenly the trail stops. Linda had decided to make her own trail and we got lost. Not lost to the point of “OMG we are lost!!!!!” but we defiantly were not on the trail. The horses didn’t seem to mind too much and the terrain wasn’t that bad, so we eventually found are way back to the trail and continued on our way.

September 1, 2009: Riding in Iowa: State #3

My wonderful friends, Linda, Tom, Tigger, Dunkin and Annabell had been my wonderful and gracious hosts during my time there. Tuesday morning, I got up late and visited Linda while she took care of Tigger. Tigger has this toy that looks like a giant, green plastic penis. It is amazing watch him work this thing to get the treats out. He really knows how to work his toy.

I want to let you in on a little secret. White, linoleum bathroom floors are a long, black haired girl’s worst nightmare… Our hair is everywhere to begin with. It is the tattletale of flooring. When I have a place of my own, the floor will be BLACK! Or at least darker…

With this being my 3rd state to ride in, as I got ready, I decided “responsible panty day”. No thong, this had to be taken seriously. I couldn’t be worrying about my thong sticking out, or it getting stuck up too far and having to ‘take care of it’. So, I put on my pink paisley with white lace trim. As I slipped them on, I realized why I don’t usually wear this particular undergarment. But still it was “responsible panty day”.

This day, we were riding at Linda’s friend Resa’s place. Resa was a wonderful woman with a golden heart. Food equals love with her, so nothing is hungry at her place. She offered her horse, Twister, for me to ride, but I quickly discovered how she got her name, and it wasn’t the twist on her face. Trying to lounge her and she bucked and reared like I haven’t seen since my early years with Ray. She offered me a gelding, Star which I swiftly accepted.

Our trusty escort on the trail was GW, a golden retriever who was named after our former president. I never got a chance to ask if that was a joke or just hardcore because they said W in true southern fashion that I had to control myself from laughing.

Resa’s property was absolutely beautiful! Nothing from what I expected of Iowa. Iowa, to me, was flat and corn. Don’t get me wrong, it had corn, but it was far from being flat. There was a small stream that went through and it reminded me a lot of home. Big, beautiful walnut trees towered the trails and provided a canopy from the sun. The air smelled of sweet grass and I kept taking big breaths to fill my lungs with the sugary scent.

My horse was a good boy and only bucked once. Not a big buck, but one big enough to make you think about it for a bit. Resa, Linda and I enjoyed chatting throughout the ride. Resa has an accent that reminded me a lot of Paula Dean. Everything is real Looong in her language. Made me smile thinking back at home, we wouldn’t have time to talk to her.

After the ride, we had a picnic style lunch of make-your-own sandwiches, with fresh picked tomatoes. Mmmmm….. It was so good.

I also got to meet the rest of the ‘family’ on the farm. As I said before, food=love for Resa. There was the biggest, fattest, chubbiest cat I had ever seen, and how he jumped up on that chair is beyond me. He probably has not moved from that chair in 2 years. That cat was LOVED at Resa’s.