My Seven Day Ride With A Horse Named Clyde

He’s the color of Baker’s chocolate with a mane as black as licorice. His name is Clyde, and I was honored to have him as my horse for seven days as I rode through the cottonwood groves, meadows, and sand dunes at Zapata Ranch in Mosca, Colorado. Zapata-Medano Ranch is owned by the Nature Conservancy and run by about 19 incredible women and one man, all employees of Ranchlands, a ranch management company whose mission is to promote the conservation of ranch land and the preservation of the ranching tradition. Zapata-Medano is over 100,000 acres, 50,000 of which are home to a herd of 2,000 bison. The ranch is also home to a few dozen horses. Guests of the ranch are assigned a horse based upon their riding ability.

I was assigned to Clyde probably because Clyde is a no fuss, gentle and steady soul. Prior to arrival, I had filled out a questionnaire about my riding experience. I ride infrequently as opposed to many guests who own horses back home. After that, the process of assigning a horse is luck of the draw. Clyde was assigned to be my horse for the week, and I was excited to meet him.

The first thing that everyone notices about Clyde, though I didn’t right away, was that his tongue usually protrudes outside of the left side of his mouth. The wrangler explained that he’s missing some upper teeth to help hold it in. I’m not sure why I didn’t notice it. Maybe I simply didn’t care, but everyone else did. It made him famous. Clyde was and is a magnificent, beautiful, 1,500 pound creature with a funny little tongue. His muzzle has a marshmallow white streak straight to from his bangs to his nose, and his cheeks were soft and smooth like velvet.

Clyde was more powerful than me, and I imagine he knew it, but he never tried to intimidate. Though I held the reins, at times we’d get a bit separated from the group, and I had to let him lead me through the brush. He needed a bit of steering, but many times he knew where to go. I learned to trust him so that I could relax and follow. Clyde was my tour guide through his land, a majestic wide open space of grasslands, cool streams, sand dunes, and pine forests. Clyde walked slowly so I could take it all in. He knew there was no need to rush because where else could we possibly need to go?

Clyde and I rode under the clear, blue open sky for hours and hours. and I never grew tired. I savored every breath of fresh air, and every brush of warm wind knowing I couldn’t stay there forever. I remember the sound of Clyde’s hooves thumping to the ground, the squeak of his leather saddle, and how he wanted to take long drinks when shallow streams of water were in sight. I’m going to miss Clyde, and I will always appreciate him. Though I rode with 19 or so women, I depended on Clyde. He was good to me.

Take your time. Breathe deeply so that you savor the experience and learn the lessons. Slow and steady. You’ll get there.