Because my knee has kept me from doing much lately, I've tried to take some long rides for exercise. The painful part is bending my left knee enough to get my foot in the stirrup; after that, everything's fine. Blue and I headed down to my favorite riding place, the Missouri River bottom. I gazed at all the crops ready for harvest and looked across the river. Then, riding along the levee, I noticed smoke in the distance... a lot of it! Somehow, a cornfield had caught on fire, so I got in on the excitement.
Actually, a little more excitement than I would have asked for. Blue handled all the smoke and fuss just fine when we rode by the fire. Then we headed up the road that takes us out of the river bottom up the hill toward home. Here's what it looks like... banks straight up on both sides of the road (this picture was taken several weeks ago):
We no sooner got to this part of the road than here came a fire truck/water wagon about 70 miles an hour, rattling and banging its way toward us, and us with noplace to go, really. My previous horse would have sprouted wings and flown out of there if he'd had to, but Blue handled it well. I patted his neck and told him what a good boy he was, and then I heard sirens coming toward us! Now, this horse handles rough situations well, but I know better than to tempt fate. So I dismounted and led him as far up the bank as I could while the firetruck approached. The driver stopped the siren while they passed, and I was grateful. There was another one right on his heels, and he, too, turned off the siren when he saw me standing there keeping my faithful steed back from the road. All's well that ends well, and I was able to get back on Blue and ride on home.
I remember reading Uncle Wiggly stories to my grandson Arick when he was small; that old rabbit was always looking for an adventure, and usually biting off more than he could chew. Today, I felt like Uncle Wiggly.