This has nothing to do with anything but I thought I would share...
"Back in the day", when I was 12, I ran across my neighbor's horses. He was eighteen years old and we all lived up in northern BC close to the Yukon border. At one point in time, he'd taken his pair of horses out to see if he could find a US pilot who's aircraft had crashed in the terrain we lived in. He took the two horses out into the wilderness in the general direction that the search indicated and found the pilot. Nobody seemed to find it a big deal. The pilot gave him his knife, a switchblade that was kinda phosphorescent. They rode the horses back to civilization and everything was fine. I've no idea how much accuracy was involved but I lived on a forces base and nobody ever said anything beyond they wished they'd earned the knife so I have to believe most of it was factual.
My experience had to do with the two horses. The spring that I lived there, we ended up somewhere around Muncho Lake (if memory serves). The horses had been let loose in that area for some reason and Vern and I went out to find them. If you can imagine a complete wilderness of several thousand square miles of pretty much nothing beyond trees and rocks with nothing to guide you at all, that's where we were. We walked into the vast unknown and within a bunch of hours, Vern had somehow made noises that called his two horses to sight. I still have no idea how someone can do that. The two came up and seemed really happy to see him. Me... on the other hand.... not so much.. At that point in their life, I was new (we became friends later in the year). To this day, I can't imagine why you'd let horses loose in that kind of wilderness but apparently, it was normal at the time.
So he gets me on top of the browner one of the two and he hops onto "Sandy" and we begin riding through the forest - bareback - with nothing to hold onto but those hairy parts that grow out of the back of a horse's neck - a mane perhaps ;-) . At one point, we're going up a hill that, as far as I'm concerned, is about as close to vertical as you can get without falling over backward and I've nothing to hold onto but the mane and I'm yelling at her to stop because I've had enough of this stupidity and I want off. Eventually, the damn horse kinda says, "OK, I'll Stop" - at that point, I was thinking that maybe stopping wasn't such a good idea. So I'm stretched out like a board along the back of the horse but at least she isn't moving any more so I slide off - at least I know enough to slide off one side and not off the back end. Now I'm on the side of a mountain that's too steep to stand up on, alongside of a really large animal who apparently thinks I'm in charge.. I'm not. We walked to the top - her idea - (which was only about ten more feet) (me clinging to her tail) and then Vern had to come back and get me back onto the back of the animal because we still had miles to go.
I finally just gave up and let the horse do what she was supposed to do and we got back to wherever it was we were supposed to be. I have no idea why I was invited along to begin with and I've no idea where we ended up but I assume it was Muncho Lake..
I have a lot of memories like that - things that I can recall the beginnings of and the parts that were hard or at least interesting, but for the life of me, for the most part, I can't recall how they ended. I have to assume that if things went well, they just weren't worth remembering. And if that's not the truth, I may have some major psychological problems that I just haven't dealt with..... but I think I'm ok for now...
"Back in the day", when I was 12, I ran across my neighbor's horses. He was eighteen years old and we all lived up in northern BC close to the Yukon border. At one point in time, he'd taken his pair of horses out to see if he could find a US pilot who's aircraft had crashed in the terrain we lived in. He took the two horses out into the wilderness in the general direction that the search indicated and found the pilot. Nobody seemed to find it a big deal. The pilot gave him his knife, a switchblade that was kinda phosphorescent. They rode the horses back to civilization and everything was fine. I've no idea how much accuracy was involved but I lived on a forces base and nobody ever said anything beyond they wished they'd earned the knife so I have to believe most of it was factual.
My experience had to do with the two horses. The spring that I lived there, we ended up somewhere around Muncho Lake (if memory serves). The horses had been let loose in that area for some reason and Vern and I went out to find them. If you can imagine a complete wilderness of several thousand square miles of pretty much nothing beyond trees and rocks with nothing to guide you at all, that's where we were. We walked into the vast unknown and within a bunch of hours, Vern had somehow made noises that called his two horses to sight. I still have no idea how someone can do that. The two came up and seemed really happy to see him. Me... on the other hand.... not so much.. At that point in their life, I was new (we became friends later in the year). To this day, I can't imagine why you'd let horses loose in that kind of wilderness but apparently, it was normal at the time.
So he gets me on top of the browner one of the two and he hops onto "Sandy" and we begin riding through the forest - bareback - with nothing to hold onto but those hairy parts that grow out of the back of a horse's neck - a mane perhaps ;-) . At one point, we're going up a hill that, as far as I'm concerned, is about as close to vertical as you can get without falling over backward and I've nothing to hold onto but the mane and I'm yelling at her to stop because I've had enough of this stupidity and I want off. Eventually, the damn horse kinda says, "OK, I'll Stop" - at that point, I was thinking that maybe stopping wasn't such a good idea. So I'm stretched out like a board along the back of the horse but at least she isn't moving any more so I slide off - at least I know enough to slide off one side and not off the back end. Now I'm on the side of a mountain that's too steep to stand up on, alongside of a really large animal who apparently thinks I'm in charge.. I'm not. We walked to the top - her idea - (which was only about ten more feet) (me clinging to her tail) and then Vern had to come back and get me back onto the back of the animal because we still had miles to go.
I finally just gave up and let the horse do what she was supposed to do and we got back to wherever it was we were supposed to be. I have no idea why I was invited along to begin with and I've no idea where we ended up but I assume it was Muncho Lake..
I have a lot of memories like that - things that I can recall the beginnings of and the parts that were hard or at least interesting, but for the life of me, for the most part, I can't recall how they ended. I have to assume that if things went well, they just weren't worth remembering. And if that's not the truth, I may have some major psychological problems that I just haven't dealt with..... but I think I'm ok for now...
Great visual! 
ROFLMAO!!!!!!!!!! With tears running down my face!! 
