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Sep 01 2009

all in one person today.

I took my mare, Rosie, to Queeny Park today to ride in the shade, under the trees, on its nice chat paths. It’s a social place with walkers, runners, folks with dogs all cheerful and cordial as we pass one another going in opposite directions or if we overtake one another in the same direction.

Rosie was walking on a downhill part of the trail. We were ambling right down its middle. Up ahead, I saw two walkers coming toward me, so I moved Rosie to the right. As I was doing this, a man about my age zipped past us between the horse and a thick stand of trees and brush. Neither the horse nor I heard anything until there was the buzz of his wheels right next to us.

Lucky for him that Rosie when startled jumps a bit in place or away from the source. I yelled at him: “Hey, say something like ‘On the right.’ This is 1,000 pounds of horse and rider that could have been in your lap. Idiot!”

He never paused, never looked back, never uttered a sound as he pedaled out of sight up the next hill. Is there such a thing as trail rage?

 

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