Who I Am With You

Chapter 3

The newbies show up to the ranch after me like the previous day. We have our morning meeting where we address our list of tasks that need to be completed today. We split up and go our separate directions to get everything accomplished. Megan and I are on gated pipe duty again today. We set to work in the huge two hundred acre pasture.   

This job is a lot different than my last. I miss working with horses. Horses are interesting. Training horses requires both physical and mental involvement. Each horse is an individual and you'll never work two horses exactly the same. Gated pipe is simple. It's a little physical; hardly mental. And it is all the same. But even though it is pretty mundane, and I do miss horses, I don't mind it being so different. Different can be good.   

Megan and I work side by side. Her tank top is a poor choice for her second day on the job. Her shoulders are turning pink from the sun exposure, and I warned her once already that she is burning. She only shrugged and said it would fade into a nice tan, but I don't think the pain will be worth it. My skin is not yet accustomed to the sun's strength either. This month has been warm, but up until a few weeks ago, I was still wearing long sleeves. I've been careful to ease into it, unlike Megan.  

Megan is friendly, but we are both comfortable working in silence. Our line of irrigation pipe stretches from one side of the pasture to the other, and we are almost ready to begin the next. Megan jumps in the truck and pulls the trailer up so we can unload the last few sections. The simple task and Megan's undemanding presence allow my mind the freedom to wander.   

E is starting colts this week. He has several four year olds that are halter broke, but haven't been ridden yet. This morning in our meeting, he ran over all the things the interns on the cattle team need to do in his absence from caring for the herd. The cows are all up in the Red Hills. Their pasture still looks good enough to sustain them for another week, so they won't require much work besides needing water hauled to them and keeping them in salt and mineral.   

He set a time in the afternoon to do riding evaluations with the new interns. Those on the cattle team looked excited about getting in the saddle, and I remembered feeling that same way about riding. After the meeting was dismissed, E took a four wheeler out to the horse pasture behind the barn and ran the herd of thirty horses into the smaller catch pen to begin sorting off the ones he needed to break. My main job back in Kentucky had been starting racehorses. I didn't get the type of recognition the racehorse trainers who train and condition the horses to run get, but my job was important nonetheless.    

Teaching a horse to accept a saddle, bridle, and rider is delicate work. They are prey animals, which makes them flighty and uncomfortable being confined or restrained by people or equipment. Teaching a horse to carry a human is the ultimate level of trust. It's a very rewarding experience.  I am interested to see how E trains, despite my lack of enthusiasm about ever working with horses again, and my lack of enthusiasm about E's personality. But the guy can ride. When he's in the saddle, it's like he's a part of the horse. It’s hard telling where the horse ends and he begins. If his riding ability is any indication of his training skills, it could be something worth watching.  

Thinking about starting colts, takes me back to the Watson's farm. I grab a hold of one end of the white pipe and Megan gets the other. We carry it together and set it in place to connect it with our last piece. I daydream about one of the colts I started last winter. It was what I consider a textbook start.    

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  The tall stud colt moved at an even trot around me at the end of the lunge line. He was confident carrying the saddle on his back, and I felt good about riding him for the first time. I had spent the last few weeks preparing him for this day, and now it looked like all systems were go. I waved Grant over and he joined me at the center of the indoor riding arena.   "He's ready." I handed Grant the line, and buckled the chin strap on my helmet. I untied the reins and let the stirrups down. I stood at the horse's side, and checked back over my shoulder at Grant. He gave me a nod, and I placed my left foot in the iron. After two hops, I stepped into the stirrup and swung my leg over the young thoroughbred. He dropped his head in a bored expression. He was used to me climbing on and off his back. This was nothing new to him.