The Beginning

Well, I guess it's logical to begin at the beginning!
I've been riding and showing horses for 12 years now. I caught the horse bug when I was 10. My family still wonders where it came from...nobody in my extended family has ever had anything to do with horses. When I was 10, my family moved out of a sub-division in K-Town, and into a nice home in W.J. Now, W.J. is by no means a "rural" community, but horse property is much more common there than in K-Town. Soon after we moved in, I became friends with "M", who rode 4-H with her QH mare Cinders and her Paint gelding Apache. Cinders was an absolute angel of a mare. She was in her late teens when I met her, and put up with all of our antics. She left a wonderful impression on me, and i'm sure thats why the horse bug got imbedded so deep. Through M, I met a woman named Margo who had Missouri Foxtrotters. Margo took me under her wing and taught me all the basics of horsemanship. She had 2 Foxtrotter geldings, Midnight and Max. Midnight was a show horse and always took my breath away. Max was a sweetheart and a wonderful trail horse. Margo and I used to take them on trail rides through neighborhoods and all around W.J. One day, Margo, sensing that I wanted to do even more with the horses, took me on a trail ride to meet "W", who would become my trainer for many years.
"W" was a middle aged woman who had known Margo for years. She trained out of a barn not far from my house named V.F. "W" had a thriving youth program, and the minute I set foot in that barn, I was in horse-crazy-kid Heaven. There were kids and horses everywhere! My first time there, W watched me riding Max around in the outdoor arena and asked me if i'd like to ride an Arabian. I jumped at the chance. She put me on a bay gelding named Rascal and away I went....or tried. I had never been on a horse that required a posting trot! Max was gaited (obviously) and Cinders trot was so smooth that there was never any need to post. The first time I rode a true hunter trot, I seriously reconsidered this whole riding thing. I felt like my insides were going to be shook out of me! Poor Rascal, packing around a sack of potatoes, just stopped. He was not about to trot around like a good boy with this unbalanced thing on his back! "W" gave me a quick lesson and invited me to come back. I dragged my parents back to V.F. the next day, and I was hooked.

That's how the Equine Addiction began.