There was nothing unusual about us riding horses when we were kids. That is, until an unexpected storm blew up on us one day as we were riding home from the oil fields. The skies were clear when we started out that morning. I waved goodbye to Darwin Bergeron, who let me ride his horse, Dewey, and he waved back from where he sat on his tractor in the middle of a large hay field. He had work to do and couldn't go with us. I am saddened to this day at the thought that he had to remain behind so often to work rather than ride with the rest of us during those teenage years.
I was riding Dewey bareback that day, as I always did, and was about to find out what it was like to try to stay on a running horse in the pouring rain. A group of us headed out. I think Lloyd and Dennis Southworth were with me, along with Arvilla and Dawn, and possibly Sheree, but it's been too many years to remember exactly who rode out on that stormy day but the ride was unforgettable. We had rode through the back woods that trailed through the oil fields where dirt lanes were formed leading from one oil rig to the next. It had been a great ride. Lloyd and Dennis were both impressive riders and we grew up with horses, so we were naturals by that time ~ or so I thought...
Our ride was cut short when dark storm clouds blew up unexpectedly. We headed for home in a hurry, saying goodbye to Lloyd and Dennis as they turned into their place. We were heading up Bishop Road, toward the cross road where we would make a turn towards Bergeron's barn to return Dewey, when a loud clap of thunder boomed across the sky and a down pour of rain was unleashed. In the same instant, the horses sprang into a run for their lives that didn't stop until they came to a sliding halt at the barn.
Hard as I pressed the bit, there was no stopping Dewey nor slowing her down. My legs were moving so fast along her sides by the shear thrust of her moving body that only my balanced upper body kept me from falling off. Her sides were like a greased poll from the pouring rain. I could hear the thundering hoof beats racing behind me, increasing with speed with each new clap of thunder, but I didn't dare turn to look for fear of losing balance and falling only to be trampled to death by the fear driven horses that were following. Years later, Mr. Robinson, where I boarded my first horses and took riding lessons along with the girls, warned me that horses could get scared out of their heads. Well, I had first hand knowledge of that bit of information. Ahead, the crossroads were coming up fast and I knew Dewey would lose me when she made the turn towards home. By some miracle I held on but another turn at Bergeron's driveway was just up ahead. I managed to hold on there too as she raced around the turn. The barn was now in front of us and Dewey would surely come to a sliding halt in front of the barn and the momentum would throw me over her head.
Just as expected, from a full out run she lowered her haunches and came to a beautiful sliding halt within a mere few feet of the barn. Although I wasn't thrown over her head, I landed on her neck with my arms wrapped tightly around her. I was thankful she didn't lower her neck and send me sprawling into the side of the barn. We had a lot of fun at Bergeron's barn swinging from one end of it to the other on a pulley and making tunnels through the hay and riding horses, always riding horses. Darwin was good to let me ride his horse. He was an unselfish friend to me and remains highly esteemed with every recollection of him.
