The Saddle Sore-ority

"Age is a box people put you in. And, no good ever comes from living life like that." ~ K. Miller

This is Pam. My new mentor. 73 years old and the happiest cowgirl I've ever met! She rode farther, faster and held up better on our 5-day trail ride than me. We'd be well-served to follow her lead.

I survived my dream vacation! The Caballos del Sol 5-day trail ride, in northern Arizona. I've never been so cold, so tired, so sore... or, so happy. The Doc said not to go but what does he know? Releasing my inner cowgirl was good medicine!

Me and Meg. My beloved little mare had the time of her life. (Me, too!)
PS: This cowgirl get-up was NOT my idea.

During this long, grey winter I felt a little 'stuck.' Nothing working quite right. Illness. Boredom. As we inch ever closer to the 5th decade, I find myself surrounded by age-obsessed people. Turning 50. So very old. (Seriously?)

And, of course, that rubbed off on me. Even the bright blossoms of a re-blooming Orchid was hard-pressed to boost my spirits.

New friends, Nancy and Larry. Cowpokes extraordinaire.

But then I went on vacation with the horse. Met people, most older than me, who give new meaning to a life well-lived.

Which got me wondering why such things matter. What is age anyway? Other than one slightly inaccurate measure of all we've done and all the grand things left to do.

If we didn't know our real age, then I s'pose we'd guess our age at how old we feel. Like Pam (top photo) who, in many ways, is considerably younger than me.

More new friends: Earl (the horse,) Dacodah, Janet and Mike. Come September, we're meeting up in New Mexico to do this all over again.

After releasing my inner cowgirl, I'm way younger than I used to be. Way healthier. Happier. And, so tired I can barely type. :D

Coolest. Horse. Ever.

* It was just not possible to ride my bouncy little mare and take pics at that same time. But, I do have some gorgeous wildflower photos to share once I muster up the energy to unpack the camera.