The Snowmachines vs. The Horses
The Amazing Ill-Fated Race
12 Dec 2005 by Jessica Bjorkman
Everyone enjoyed our evening standing around the bonfire. When the fire was nothing much but coals everyone left to rejoin for more visiting at our house. All were gone except the two snowmobiles and three horses. I had the crazy idea we should race home. Of course the snowmobilers - Bjorn and Sharla - immediately rose to the challenge. Meanwhile, my two sisters, Katarina and Ruth, were excited but also a little skeptical. The road was slippery, it was dark, and as Katarina pointed out, we didn't have helmets. Still, the excitement won out over the danger. Katarina and Ruth said we should warm up the horses. I hadn't rode a horse in a month. Just in our warm-up, I fell off the horse. No matter, we all lined up at an imaginary start-line. The deal was Bjorn and Sharla couldn't start their machines until the race started. The horses knew it was a race. They were prancing with excitement.
1-2-3-Go.
Bjorn pulled over both machines at once - his right arm on his and his left arm on Sharla's. Daisy, with Ruth on bareback, reared in the air. She was wild and uncontrollable with excitement. She galloped up a hill in the bush instead of on the road. When she rejoined Katarina on Jasi, Ruth decided Daisy was too wild and would hurt herself. Horses do things in teams so Katarina slowed Jasi down in order to slow Daisy down.
Cherry, my old horse, now Veronique's horse, had took off at a good gallop at the word go and never slowed down. We were far ahead of the pack, with the snowmachines and voices of Ruth and Katarina dimly behind us. I soon realized, this was going to be a long ride home. It takes a lot more energy than you would think to gallop on a horse at top speed. I tightened my grip on the reins and my grip on his back as I was riding bareback. It felt like we were on one of those horse movies in the big race. All I could hear was his breathing and my breathing. The world was racing by...in the dark. Lamont had said when he sold Cherry to me that he would be a real firecracker. I had started to think that it was only a salesman pitch, but I now know differently. He has one thing in mind. Win. Go faster.
We may have crossed the finish line first. It wouldn't have mattered; the rules were both snowmachines or all horses had to cross first to win. I won't know if we could have beat everyone, for at the last second, Cherry got the notion in his head to veer off onto a side-trail. Nevermind that we were on a road and it was dark out! I could see him glance over, then he jumped the bank while veering, and I fell off, like a sack of potatoes. I was just fine, riding bareback there are no stirrups to tangle one's feet in, just a soft bed of snow to dump into. Cherry soon returned, but it was too late. The snowmobiles drove by passing the horses. Katarina and Ruth immediately worried if I was alright. We recounted our short-lived race, then galloped the horses on the way home.
Even though it was a short-lived race, it was still a rush of adrenaline. Snowmobiles have no crazy feelings. Horses have heart. Galloping at top speed on a horse has to be way more exciting than driving a machine. Perhaps, there will be a rematch.
The Amazing Ill-Fated Race
12 Dec 2005 by Jessica Bjorkman
Everyone enjoyed our evening standing around the bonfire. When the fire was nothing much but coals everyone left to rejoin for more visiting at our house. All were gone except the two snowmobiles and three horses. I had the crazy idea we should race home. Of course the snowmobilers - Bjorn and Sharla - immediately rose to the challenge. Meanwhile, my two sisters, Katarina and Ruth, were excited but also a little skeptical. The road was slippery, it was dark, and as Katarina pointed out, we didn't have helmets. Still, the excitement won out over the danger. Katarina and Ruth said we should warm up the horses. I hadn't rode a horse in a month. Just in our warm-up, I fell off the horse. No matter, we all lined up at an imaginary start-line. The deal was Bjorn and Sharla couldn't start their machines until the race started. The horses knew it was a race. They were prancing with excitement.
1-2-3-Go.
Bjorn pulled over both machines at once - his right arm on his and his left arm on Sharla's. Daisy, with Ruth on bareback, reared in the air. She was wild and uncontrollable with excitement. She galloped up a hill in the bush instead of on the road. When she rejoined Katarina on Jasi, Ruth decided Daisy was too wild and would hurt herself. Horses do things in teams so Katarina slowed Jasi down in order to slow Daisy down.
Cherry, my old horse, now Veronique's horse, had took off at a good gallop at the word go and never slowed down. We were far ahead of the pack, with the snowmachines and voices of Ruth and Katarina dimly behind us. I soon realized, this was going to be a long ride home. It takes a lot more energy than you would think to gallop on a horse at top speed. I tightened my grip on the reins and my grip on his back as I was riding bareback. It felt like we were on one of those horse movies in the big race. All I could hear was his breathing and my breathing. The world was racing by...in the dark. Lamont had said when he sold Cherry to me that he would be a real firecracker. I had started to think that it was only a salesman pitch, but I now know differently. He has one thing in mind. Win. Go faster.
We may have crossed the finish line first. It wouldn't have mattered; the rules were both snowmachines or all horses had to cross first to win. I won't know if we could have beat everyone, for at the last second, Cherry got the notion in his head to veer off onto a side-trail. Nevermind that we were on a road and it was dark out! I could see him glance over, then he jumped the bank while veering, and I fell off, like a sack of potatoes. I was just fine, riding bareback there are no stirrups to tangle one's feet in, just a soft bed of snow to dump into. Cherry soon returned, but it was too late. The snowmobiles drove by passing the horses. Katarina and Ruth immediately worried if I was alright. We recounted our short-lived race, then galloped the horses on the way home.
Even though it was a short-lived race, it was still a rush of adrenaline. Snowmobiles have no crazy feelings. Horses have heart. Galloping at top speed on a horse has to be way more exciting than driving a machine. Perhaps, there will be a rematch.
