Two In The Hand is Not All It's Cracked Up To Be

Working in the kitchen at the guest ranch I didn’t get too many opportunities to ride or learn to be the cowgirl I dreamed about.  I had already discovered that I was not a natural and was actually somewhat afraid of the powerful beasts now that I had met them up close and personal.  I was determined to overcome my fear so when they asked for volunteers in an emergency situation I stepped up.

The heavy rains the night before had threatened to flood the riding trails due to a beaver dam blocking the creek.  A few of the wranglers had gone out early to dynamite the dam when someone realized one of the pastures near there had not been cleared of horses.  The less experienced staff got a two minute class on how to lead a horse quickly and safely without getting stepped on.  The few wranglers there were catching the horses and putting bridles on them.  All we had to do was lead them back in.

I reached a wrangler and he handed me the lead.  After having only gone a short way another wrangler came up asked if I thought I could handle two at a time.  I didn’t have time to answer before he put the lead in my hand and ran off to get another horse.  Being sandwiched between them was pushing me toward panic so I kept my arms out as far as I could to avoid being crushed.

As I approached the barn I notice some wranglers who seemed to be arguing and pointing in my direction.  One of them held his hand up as though I should stop but before I could, the cowboy next to him slapped his hand down and gestured for me to keep coming.  After a got a little closer he ran out grabbed one of the horses and swung it out and away from the barn, while I led the other one in.

My pride at helping to rescue them from danger was soon replaced with horrified relief when they explained that the two horses I was leading were bitter rivals. The potential for a truly life threatening confrontation was pretty high but the wrangler that handed me the second horse was new and did not recognize the first one.  The argument I had seen was about if the odds of a fight would be better or worse if I stopped and waited for someone to come to my aid.  The final consensus was, if it ain’t broke don’t fix it.  Cowboy wisdom or wishful thinking, I didn’t want to know.