A wild ride
“Self-Defense for Trail Riders” (EQUUS 489) reminded me of something that happened to my mom while she was out riding in the Santa Susana Mountains in California in the late 1960s. A man approached her and grabbed the reins, trying to get control of her horse. Luckily, the horse we had then, Freckles, was about 16 hands and had been a calf roper, so he took off up the mountain when my mom kicked him. The man who’d grabbed at her, along with some other people, chased my mom and Freckles on dune buggies, but they just kept running until they were safely back at the ranch where we boarded our horse.
At the time, everyone thought my mom had simply encountered a bunch of hippies. It…