The last time I heard of a horseback rider having a run in with the police, the lady in question was high on meth running down main street on a chesnut quarter horse at midnight. The cops pulled her over with lights and sirens and she in turn tried to charge their car with her horse. The horse was confiscated and the woman was cuffed. This was in Alabama if I remember correctly.
I didn’t get lights and sirens. I got the bike patrol. I kept a cool head and didn’t charge the bike so I think that’s why I got off with a warning. Get this: it’s illegal to ride a stallion bareback in public around here. In fact, I’m not even supposed to own a stallion if I’m not a trainer. I am definitely not a trainer. At one point I considered myself a horse-improver but that’s like being a handyman in the local classifieds section and putting KB homes on my business card. The last thing I really trained my horse to do was rear on cue. He was already an avid rearer anyway and I just harnessed the energy. It’s like hiring my handyman services to fix a hole in the floor and instead getting a custom built trap door out of the deal. It’s cool but a bigger liability than it’s worth.
So there I was, minding my own business riding down the park trails and brazenly breaking the law with Conte, the saddleless Bonnie to my Clyde, when I was stopped dead in my tracks by the law and informed of my illicit activities. I laughed. My first response to stupidity will always be laughter. Stupidity’s greatest threat is identification and belittlement. Laughter is a worthy foe.
Apparently they were serious though. The warning really didn’t have the effect that was probably intended. I’m sure they meant to make me think about my actions and leave with relief and resolve to change my behavior like every time I get pulled over for talking on my phone while driving but they left me with a blog running through my head and a sense of wonderment at the world instead.
I don’t like the idea of my horse being impounded or getting a ticket while riding in the future. I once got a ticket when my dog found a hole in the backyard and chose to hang out in the front yard for a while. I ignored it and patched up the hole and nothing ever came of it so I’m not sure how much weight I’d give a horse ticket but either way I’ve been brainstorming ways to avoid blatant failings as a citizen in the future and chopping my horse’s balls off is not an option. I don’t much like riding with saddles either. I think I’ll make a business card though and call myself a trainer:
Kayden Kross’s Barebacking Experience:
Real world barebacking safety lessons for studs
Mike was right. They really have made criminals of us all.