I wasn’t going to write this story because I don’t have any photos to go along with it. But today, as I was walking my horse along a riding path, I thought about how far I have come since the accident. I thought maybe someone else might need to hear my story.
THE ACCIDENT
Mind you, I don’t ever really even think about the accident itself. I was fine and it doesn’t replay in my mind, ever. Having said that, it effected me tremendously. Here is what happened. First of all, I made several mistakes that created the perfect stage. I was riding an equine I didn’t know. I was using someone elses too large, slick saddle and I was using a bridle that I didn’t inspect. Luckily, I was wearing a helmet. Now, I am not a fearless rider but I was pretty darn close to that. I would gentle all of my babies. I gave the first ride and most of the training to all my trail horses. I’d ridden miles and miles of trails over many years and had bred and raised World Champion Morgan Horses. And to me, I was always safety conscience. Just not this day. I “forgot to put on my seat belt” as it were. And that was the day I got into the accident.
It happened a ways into the ride. My mount started to get a bit jumpy and I was circling him to keep him busy. Mid circle, he whipped his head around and took hold of the bit. In a flash, I was being “run away with”. This had never happened to me before. I had the presence of mind to pull one rein and stick his nose into my leg. POP! The bridle broke. Not just the pinging of Chicago screws, the actual leather was rotten under a buckle and it snapped apart. I didn’t realize what had happened at the time. I just couldn’t figure out why my reins had so much slack. At this point, we were running straight towards a hedgerow of towering blackberry brambles and dense oak brush that rimmed a steep descent. To me, if we entered that, I was a goner. So, we did. I remember thinking about the movie, Man from Snowy River, as we crashed through the entrance to the brush.
Vaguely I can remember hearing my friend screaming my name. Everything on the outside became very sloooooooow. My mind was thinking about my life. It did pass before me. As I was clutching the neck of my equine and bearing as low as I could possibly put my body, I thought of what a stupid way this was for me to die and that my Mom was going to be really mad about this at the funeral. In slow motion, I felt the branches thump along my back. I felt my helmet bash against everything. My legs, tight around the gut of this raging animal, were being ripped yet they felt numb. I felt numb. I felt nothing. Down. Down. Bang! Crash! Snap! The sounds of horrible bending and snapping, wild ripping and tearing all around me. I heard it all but it really felt like I was under water and it was all happening to someone else. And then, in an instant, it all stopped. In a moment I went from clutching and gripping onto my tormentor to sitting upright on the only 1 foot square patch of clean grass in the entire hillside. I swear, and I have a witness, I was sitting perfectly upright with crossed legs as if I was about to start a yoga class. When I realized that I was no longer on the equine but sitting in a patch of grass against a tree, I couldn’t fathom what had happened. I checked to see if I was alive. Yes. I think I am alive. I checked to see if I could move everything. Yes. Then, faintly, I heard my friend screaming my name. I heard myself feebly call back. Yes, I was alive. My friend couldn’t actually get to me. She hacked her way into the thicket and stood there shaking with me. I was alive. I was OK. Unbelievable. We both started crying.
HOW DID I NOT DIE?
Now, I don’t know what I really feel about angels or God. What I do know is that I have no idea how I survived that without any significant damage. Looking back on the path we took, you could see where my helmet cracked branches and dented limbs. You could see all the lethal broken wood daggers. It was impossible to get through that without more than a few scratches. Yet, I did. What was even more strange, is that the gear had no scrapes. The only scrapes were on the animal from about shoulder down. He had tons of scratches all over his shoulders and legs. But, nothing above his shoulder, just like me. So odd.
THE DREAM
That night, I had a dream – a very vivid dream. I felt as if I was being told to watch and listen… As I rested there, a movie played. It was my ride happening in front of me. As I watched, I see the horse decide to bolt. I see me start to react. I see the bridle break. I see me respond by releasing my stirrups and grabbing on in a very primitive fashion. Then, with my face buried in the side of his neck, I see a huge pair of white wings surround me. I see us all crashing through the intense and barbaric brush, going straight downhill. I then see myself being scooped up in a nanosecond and dropped gently on the grass. The winged creature looked right at me, in my eyes, and told me, “You’re alright.” I felt his words like a warm rush of strength through my body. And then he/it left. That was my dream.
The next day, I thought I was fine. And, I was — physically. But, as soon as I went to the barn to saddle up, I knew I was very hurt. Fear the size of New Jersey erupted inside of me. I couldn’t get on a horse. I could barely be around a horse. I would jump out of my skin if they so much as sneezed. I had lost my trust in myself and in my horses. I was a mess. I have Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome. Diagnosed. This is not a term I use lightly.
THE AFTERMATH
So today, almost 6 years later, as I’m walking my horse, Finn, along a trail, I thought about how far I’ve come and the odd way I journeyed through it. What I mean is that when you’ve been rattled to the core, others who haven’t ever been that frightened, cannot possibly understand. All of a sudden you become a “baby” or “not a good rider” or many other terms of not understanding. “You just need to get back on” and “It’s all in your head” would come across my hearing often. They had no idea and I really couldn’t fault them for this thinking… They simply didn’t know. This wasn’t getting the wind knocked out of me or having a nasty fall. This was I knew I was going to die. What was really difficult for me was that I had just moved here. No one knew me. No one knew that I could ride. No one knew how brave I’ve been. No one knew that I wasn’t just a baby. All of a sudden, my identity was confused. I was “that lady with too many horses who doesn’t know how to ride.” I would hear them whisper that I should just sell them if I wasn’t going to ride them. Or, I was the lady who has really nice horses as pets and what a shame that was… Of course, I didn’t understand it either. What was wrong with me?? Why couldn’t I just relax? It wasn’t going to happen again…! Just ride, already!
If any of you readers have ever been through the kind of terrifying experience that handcuffs your brain into PTSD, you know what I mean. I was so frustrated with myself I decided to do what I thought was best. I understood that my only way out was through. So, I started with the sole horse I felt would never hurt me, my Aladdin. I only worked with him. For a year, only him. Everyone else just had the year off. No matter what anyone said, I just focused. He and I walked (me on the ground beside him) the trails we used to ride. I let him garden with me (he grazed), we bathed and clipped and did feet and every possible ground work exercise out there. Eventually, I got on. We rode all the trails at a walk, alone. Finally! Yay! I was OK on him. I felt safe. Now onward.
After three years of Aladdin only, he got sick so I had to ride someone else. I picked my crazy Morgan mare because at least she and I knew each other well since she was born here and I had taught her to ride. In hindsight, it was a great choice because I hadn’t realized that she had matured. Getting to know her so closely again was a gift. She and I became hiking buddies. We took every trail around here. People would laugh at me and say, “What, you walkin’ your hawse??” Yup, I was. Eventually, I started riding her. If I got frightened, I’d get off and walk. I never let her forget her manners; I just got off when I felt that awful grip on my throat. But, it happened less and less. I was getting better.
That same year, I forced myself to do the same with Finn, my TWH who I had purchased about a month before the accident. He had sat, not being used for 3 years. And, again, we walked everywhere together. Around my house, around the neighborhood, to the mailbox, whatever I did, I took Finn. I realized that for me, if I really knew my riding partner, I felt much more at ease. And, it worked. Last year, I taught my Icy filly to ride.
TODAY
This year, I am determined to ride my 7 year old TWH filly who was a yearling at the time of the accident. She has sat around here for 6 years. 6 years! (She has all her groundwork, just not much riding by me.) So, she is my challenge. And, I’ll do it. But, even with as much progress as I feel I have made, I still won’t do cliffs, I won’t ride with a horse that rattles mine and I won’t ride on anything narrow or confining. Maybe in time that will change, too. But for now, no matter what anyone thinks, for me, this is what partnership with my horse is all about. They patiently wait and help me when I need it. I patiently wait and help them when they lack confidence. We are a team. After all, I already know I can ride… now I’m learning that I can heal.
As an aside, when I do get unsettled in the saddle, I just imagine big ol’ white wings around us. “You’re alright.”
It works.
Tags: horse accident, how to get back in the saddle after a fall
yes i’ve been there 54 years old… back riding again after being thrown ..I had to ask for help after I’ve started my own horses rode for years I’m back in the saddle FEAR has alot of control
Thank you so much for sharing this story. What is it about these magnificent creatures that we just can not stay away. I have 3 and love them dearly. I keep telling myself that maybe I should not ride because I’m in my 60′s, many people depend on me and I have Osteoporosis. But my soul cries out in definance , give me horses or else I’ll die.!!! So I try to be safe, try to be in good shape and pray for safety with each ride. Despite the fear I thank God daily for the love of horses that He has placed within my heart. They are truly a part of my soul. I am blessed beyond measure to be a part of their lives.
I did finaly get back on my mare Katie, two years later. She was a 5 year old wild mustang when we got her, then trained professionaly at 10. I guess, well know, my first mistake was to climb on her against my trainers advise a month into her training during the beginnings of a thunder storm. Big impression there. Wild, crazy and powerfull as I plowed into the mud. The second mistake was riding too close the the hot wire. Stayed on thru the buck but fell off. trying to get off. Third was riding with new saddle , sturrup a bit too long with someone’ crazy idea of a spring style stirrup, couldn’t sit the horse through that buck, got kicked in the knee. That did it for riding her in close quarters. Forth mistake was riding her out in the dune for fun with a friend and not focusing on my horse and thinking my boots were too big for the stirrups. So with a simple sideways spook, I feared for my feet, pitched myself forward onto her neck to kick my feet free instead of just riding, and sure enough, stuck feet. No i didnt get dumped and drug, just dumped and broke a finger slaming my hand into her neck as she flew sideways. Stupid me, it was a move that I could have handled too. All these things led up to my fear to ride her. If I even thought of tying to catch her I would get a bad feeling in my stomach. To even think about saddling brought fear in me. Just to think of any plans of how I needed to ride her every day for her training would make me wheeze and sick to my stomach. I just could not even think ahead or my plans. With Katie, I would tell myself that I was going to just go pet her, that would be ok. So that is what I would focus on only. Then I’d say I’d just catch her, then groom her and so on till I would have her saddled and be riding her. By no means do I have my fear concorded with her. I even quit riding her cause “I had too many other good horses to waist my time on her” Then I got mad, real mad cause she wouldn’t let me catch her, same story different day. And I took charge, I wasn’t mean just real firm and mad. We went through every step she ever learned, I never backed down and I made her behave. Bridling, saddling everything went smooth, she never did a thing, just excepted and did everything I asked. I had been mad I guess for a while, I just couldn’t believe that I had been whooped by this one horse, I have ridden so many and have no fear of any horse that I have tryed, I’ve ridden with the best, helped train so many….Why be afraid of her? It was that first fall that was my undooing, setting myself up for all my fears with her. Of course, she still is a very difficult horse, but she’s a sweet horse, and if I can ever overcome my fear, a great horse. She did after all save my life from crashing into a bear, stopping when she new it was there. Twice. All without her reacting and bolting, just calm and turned away or waited for the bear to run away, all within two months of her training, green. So, my struggle will go on, and I am half way there, to no fear.
I too, am still recovering physically from a bad crash 3 years ago. I’ve fallen off, been bucked off, rolled on, etc., but was never really bothered. 3 years ago I was riding a very familiar trail through the bush at almost full gallop. I turned to look over my shoulder to make sure my friend’s daughter was doing ok with her horse, and when I turned back around, I didn’t have time to move my horse over enough to miss that damn tree that we’d all almost hit before. CRASH went my knee, making a sound that caused my friend’s daughter to scream. I almost went unconscious, and thankfully, there was enough of a curve/small rise right at the tree that we travelled uphill, so the force actually drove me into the saddle instead of off. It almost stopped my 16 hand quarter horse dead. I am now recovering from my third surgery…plates, screws, various hardware. I couldn’t ride physically for 2 months, but worse, was traumatized thinking what would have happened if it had been my HEAD…and I wasn’t wearing a helmet that day!!! I most certainly would be dead as a doornail! I think the most important point in all these comments, and especially our fearless blogger’s story, is that we all GET BACK ON. Unless someone has had that experience, they have no idea of the depth of injury to the psyche, let alone the body!! GO GIRLS…and guys, cuz I know you’re out there, too!
I think this is a VERY COMMON problem that riders face..and it is odd how you can fall and it doesn’t bother you or you can fall and you are rattled to the core. I fell about 8 times in one and 1/2 yrs after first buying horses of my own. Afew times from ill fitting saddle that rolled..while galloping up a hill :( the rest from spooks..i always was able to get back on..undeterred. THE BIG ONE was when my perch cross Bella spooked while i was mounting..she was overly afraid of loud noise..someone slammed a stall door right when i was throwing my leg over. She bolted and i basically fell onto her back..which caused her to BUCK..off i came into the fence of the arena..THANK GOD FOR HELMETS!! I hit the fence so hard my helmet blew apart and off my head. MY knee(which was previously injured) swelled to 3x it’s size, but no real physical damage..hovever major mental damage. I had to sell bella even though i loved her dearly…i would start shaking at the thought of getting on her and i knew it would never work for us. My confidence was shattered. I began only riding my Shire, Delilah, who is bombproof and a sweetheart..she has helped but i’m still afraid to canter..
I FEEL YOU’VE DONE A GREAT JOB. WHEN I WAS 7YRS OLD I HAD A VERY BAD ACIDENT. I WAS ON OUR MARE, GYPSY, A QUARTER HORSE,
7YRS OLD. I RODE HER CONSTANTLY FROM THE DAY WE GOT HER BAREBACK, NO BRIDLE HALTER NOTHING. SHE WAS JUST ONE SWEET MARE. AFTER SCHOOL I’D GO TO THE PASTURE AND LITERALLY TAKE A NAP ON HER BACK. I WOULD JUST LAY BACK, I LOVED HER TO DEATH.
A FAMILY MEMBER DECIDED TO PLAY A JOKE AND RAN AROUND THE SIDE OF THE BARN SCREAMING AND FLAPPING HIS ARMS, GYPSY STOOD STRAIGHT UP AND I FLEW OFF THE REAR. LANDING ON THE BACK OF MY HEAD. I WAS KNOCKED OUT FOR A LITTLE WHILE, BUT THE LONG RANGE EFFECTS WERE WORSE. I WAS SCARED TO DEATH OF HORSES FROM THAT TIME ON. I FINALLY CAME FACE TO FACE WITH MY FEAR ABOUT 5 YRS BACK. NOW I’M RIDING AGAIN, I’M SIXTY YEARS OLD. I GUESS MY LOVE OF HORSES FINALLY WHUPPED UP ON MY FEAR OF THEM. KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK. AND I’M SURE GOD’S ANGLES WILL BE THERE FOR YOU. VIA CON DIOS GARRY
It sure helps to know I am not alone. It seems like it takes longer and longer each time I have fallen to work up the courage to get back in the saddle. I have a wonderful mare that gets really upset when she “loses” me and waits for my courage to return with great patience.
Great story. They can say all they want to about getting back on after a bad accident ! Just a few years ago I had 2 very bad accidents { in my 60s ] on a new horse [ have had horses for many years and the had all passed away ] and was taken away by ambulance both times. It was very strange but a couple days before the accident I was awaken from my sleep by a jump in my sleep and saw the mean look on this horses face !!! It was a worning! That week it happened. The second time , I nearly jumped out of bed! Still I did not pay a tention and got hurt again. I do belive someone was trying to watch over me . I try hard to listen these days. I have a 9 year old mareand it has taken3 yearswith the help of a real horse whisperer to get over my fear especaly since she has an adatude. So far so good. I just got a round pen and will start with a lot of ground work before I get on her. A this age I had expected to just ride slow and easy on my trails but now I might do a little more with her. I have also taken her for hand walks like you in hopes we could bond more. Good luck Nancy
wow. Thanks for sharing this, Dawn.
After struggling with Ashly Rose at Folsom–she wants to lead–I am wondering about going out with others. She wasn’t ‘bad,’ just riding up the butts of other horses. Finally Sax tried to kick her, but that kick didn’t connect and she didn’t care. On the way back, she was power-walking, in the lead, to get back. Head tossing. Ugh. Wears me out. I couldn’t let her trot because she’d start getting bucky. I’m riding with loose reins, except when she gets stupid. Then a one-rein pop to stop her. Seems like I was popping the reins the entire last hour. argh@#
I hope it helps someone. Thanks!
Slowly but surely… You will do it.
I’ve bought the helment. Now to get the courage to ride out of the round pen……. I fell off too, two and half years ago. I love to ride but I’ve forgotten how after not having horses for 30 years. I have 9 horses now and one so sweet but he’s the one I fell off of. Wasn’t hurt, just scared to pieces.
Great post! It always helps to know you’re not alone, especially when we horse people spend so much time that way.