Horse Camp Chronicles

Chapter 1

    "Mom, can you please take me to the tack store?" I plead. She glances up from the vegetables she is sauteing on the stove and sighs.

"We were there just last week!"

"No, that was two weeks ago! Besides, the packing list for camp came a few days ago and I need a couple of things on it." I reply, trying not to use "tone", as Mom puts it.

"Fine, just let me finish making lunch first," She caves. I say a quick thank you before hurrying upstairs to grab the Dover Saddlery gift card I received for my birthday. The measly $200 dollars should be enough to buy a pair of tall boots. At 13, I'm pretty much the only rider at the barn without them. I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but my parents will spend money on the newest Volvo SUV but complain about the cost of my once-weekly riding lesson.

I slip on my sneakers and head out towards the car. Jumping into the backseat, I pull out my phone and flip through my barn "friends" Snapchat stories. Olivia's contains a LeMieux tack haul, and Addy's brags about the ribbons she won this past weekend at a regional hunter-jumper show. My school friends have pictures that they must have taken at the mall today. Of course they didn't invite me. Not that I expect them too. Not that I have money to spend on non-riding clothes. To be honest, not that I would really want to go. But still, an invite would be nice. 

I swing open the door to Dover Saddlery and step inside. I rush over to the children's boot section. I've got to do what I've got to do to save money. Not that I would ever admit that my paddock boots are children's. My eyes scan the racks, searching for the correct size. Mom catches up to me, and points out a pair from Ariat.

"Those look nice," she says.

"They look expensive," I mutter under my breath. Still, I pull them down from the shelf. Wow, I think, I'm really getting tall boots! The boots shine, without a scruff in sight. They would really give my beat up paddock boots a run for their money! Even shinier, is gleaming white price tag. When it catches Mom's eye, she sucks in a deep breath.

"Are you sure you need tall boots? A new pair of half chaps would work just as well."

"Yes, Mom. It's on the packing list." I resist the urge to roll my eyes, instead focus on finding a different, less pricey, pair of boots.

Eventually, we find a winner. The black Tuffrider's that are on sale match my budget, and even if they don't shine quite as much as the Ariat's, they are still tall boots. We end up coming home with the boots, a grooming kit, a crop, and two packages of hairnets. All of which are needed for camp. I was adamant about buying the polo shirts I need as well, but Mom talked me out of it. She said something about buying the same product from Target for a fraction of the cost. 

Later that night, I place those items in the growing pile in the corner of my bedroom. Just two days until I leave for the International Riding Camp! I am giddy with excitement. Tomorrow, I plan on packing everything into Dad's old suitcase. Just then, my phone dings with a text message. I fish it out of my pocket and read the text. It's from my trainer, Jane. She wants to know if I will still be here for my lesson tomorrow. Yes! I reply quickly and put my phone away. I wouldn't miss my lesson for the world. Jane is nice enough to put my lessons on hold for the weeks that I'm away, so my parents won't have to pay for them. She came from a family like mine, who didn't really understand how passionate she was about riding. Now, she's made a living off of owning and running a top-notch boarding facility, as well as giving lessons. I aspire to be like her. She is my role model.