Horsing Around

A most surprising thing has entered my life!

Horseback riding!

A friend of mine who writes for the NDSU Foundation Magazine helped work on an article about the Bison Strides adaptive horsemanship program. When it came out I read it carefully and saw something that amazed me. “Therapeutic riding can be a great source of exercise for individuals who may otherwise experience limitations or challenges from amputations, brain injuries, cerebral palsy, or muscular dystrophy.”

Wait. Had I read that right? Brain injuries?

Brain injury and horses!

I went to the Bison Strides website to learn more and what I found astonished me. Bison Strides was founded by Dr. Erika Berg in 2017. It was the only premier center in North Dakota accredited by the Professional Association of Therapeutic Horsemanship International. They ran several programs and were just setting up a four-week summer adapted horsemanship program.

I filled in the paperwork and signed up, both excited and nervous about riding again. They offered one session per week, each session an hour long, for a total of four weeks.

When I told a few friends, they laughed and said, “Wear a helmet!” Or else they looked at me askew, “You sure about that?” they asked, as if I were a bit crazy.

But I wanted to know. Would I be able to ride horses again, now after my brain injury? Or would it be too much commotion and movement?

On the first day, I walked into the enormous barn of the NDSU Equine Center

I saw rows and rows of horse stalls and equipment. The arena was one of the largest I’d ever been in. Dr. Erika greeted me, fit me with a helmet, and then we walked out into the arena.

There, standing next to some wooden steps, was JoJo, a fifteen-year-old, well-muscled palomino mare. A volunteer stood beside her holding a lead rope. I walked up the mounting steps using my trekking pole for stability. It was the first time in my life that I ever mounted a horse from a stepping platform, and the first time I’d mounted a horse wearing a helmet.

I sat on JoJo’s back while Dr. Erika adjusted the stirrups.

JoJo’s first steps tipped me slightly sideways, and I held onto the saddle horn. Dr. Erika adjusted the stirrups again and then walked beside me on the left. The volunteer led JoJo from the right. We circled the arena several times.

We stopped at various cones, turned and walked the other direction, walked around poles and barrels, and then Dr. Erika gave me some large rubber rings to hold saying we’d do some arm work. As JoJo circled the arena, I held the rings out in front of me, twisted and turned, held the rings out to one side then the other, and finally dropped them over the top of a pole.  

Riding felt familiar. The sound of the horse plodding, the movement of my hips, the neighs, whinnies, and snorts heard around the barn.

“Take your right hand and pat the left side of JoJo’s neck,” Dr. Erika instructed me.

“Now, take your right hand and put it back on her hind end.” When I laid my hand lightly on JoJo’s rump, she quivered her skin violently and sent me into peals of laughter. She’d thought my light-handed touch had been a fly.

The first session was scheduled to be one hour long but after forty-five minutes, I was done. My brain had sloshed around long enough. When I asked to stop, Dr. Erika said, “You did wonderful! If you want we can spend the last few minutes looking around the barn and meeting a few other horses.”

I came home feeling dizzy-headed and happy. I kept my barn clothes on and enjoyed the whiff of a horse throughout the rest of the day.

I went up to ride four times in total and rode two different horses.

I rode JoJo twice and then Cutter, a fifteen-year-old palomino quarter horse who was slightly smaller than JoJo. It wasn’t riding like I’d been used to, riding on my own. Dr. Erika walked on one side and a volunteer walked on the other. But I was riding! And enjoying the experience.

We talked practically non-stop. I was astonished by Dr. Erika’s knowledge of both human and horse brains. She told me about Bison strides, how and why she began the program, and some of the multiple benefits of equine therapy.

After four happy, challenging weeks, my sessions came to an end.

Riding took me to an old place.

A place of memory and comfort, a time when my body and brain were young and healthy and strong. It brought back happy memories. It gave me an activity that was therapy but felt more like joy. It gave me something to talk about. When friends told us about the trips they’d just returned from, the trips they were planning, the concerts they were going to, I could chime in with something that I was doing, too.

As I thought about the riding sessions, I knew they’d been therapeutic and helpful.

Riding helped connect my right and left, exercised my core muscles, gave me a novel experience that challenged my brain. But that isn’t what came to mind first and foremost.

What came to mind when I thought about riding again was a simple word. Fun. A rare commodity in my current life.

Riding had been fun.

As my good old friend Sir Winston Churchill said,

“There is something about the outside of a horse that is good for the inside of a man.”

Happy Trails to you all!

Love always,

Jill