Ten or twelve deer were grazing in the open field ahead of us. We leaned back and slowly waddled down the steep, rocky trail that led to a heavily wooded, northwest facing slope of California hillside. The surrounding hills were a tapestry of sage scrub; Chaparral, Greasewood, Manzanita, purple sage, and the occasional out-crop of Lupines and, of course, the California Poppy. The native grasses were the color of straw this time of year that added a lovely contrast to the loom of color woven along the hillsides. Trees in the area consisted of stands of Oaks, Sycamores, Cottonwoods, the ever-present non-native, Eucalyptus.
As we hit the bottom of the trail and walked out onto the clearing, I expected the deer to run away at the sight of us. One doe simply popped her head up, stared at us, and then went back to grazing.
“Be very quiet and they won’t even know we are human. They think we are just big horses.” Marcie whispered.
Soon, all of the deer were staring at us and seemed not sure whether to run into the thick chaparral or stand and welcome the beasts walking toward them. They, in their cinnamon colored tuxedos, puffy white tails, cocked ears and twitching noses, began casually courting their young toward a group of trees. Each graceful doe stopped within a safe distance and, once again, began to graze while occasionally looking up.
“Don’t you think it’s amazing that they don’t run away? I mean, do you think they were like this when the Chumash were here?” I asked.
The eating stopped and twelve heads perked up when I spoke.
“I don’t think the Chumash rode horses.” Marcie said.
I shifted my weight and Penny snorted loudly while I pondered this thought. All of the deer now eyed us with renewed suspicion. They did not move however were ready to bolt at any moment. At just that moment, Annie saw them and took off running toward them. They scattered into the safety of the trees and Annie, already fairly tuckered-out from walking behind Penny, ran back with very little enthusiasm. She fell back in behind Penny and we continued our walk along the narrowing trail.
The surrounding Chaparral was thick. I thought about the Chumash Indians that had inhabited this area. I wondered how they navigated through the almost impenetrable denseness and whether they cut swathes of secret paths. The rubbery, drought-resistant shrubbery was hard to the touch and scratched at your calves when you tried to walk through it. It must have been difficult to hunt in this area. I could almost see the Ancient Ones, walking along this very trail, carrying their goods to trade, stopping to pick herbs and gather seeds, catching rabbits or raiding bird nests for eggs as Penny carefully navigated the trail along the edge of the thick. My own primal instincts came alive while straddling atop my horse.
The Chumash lived in this area for 10,000 or so years. Their main mode of transportation was plank canoe made from pieces of driftwood. They had learned how to seal the cracks with tar, which helped to distinguish them as some of the finest boat builders among the California tribes. They canoed up and down the coast trading and exploring.
The word “Chumash” means, “bead maker” or “shell people.” In this nation of peoples, women could serve equally as chiefs or priests. When I found that out, I immediately liked the Chumash and envisioned myself offering a little girl-power, hand-pump. In addition, they were gifted astronomers and many decisions concerning the entire village were made only after consulting the stars.
I touched the shell necklace adorning my neck and remembered the day I made it. I had been at Shell Beach, all day, collecting shells and rocks. That evening, I carefully selected each shell that would be strung onto wire and clasped in silver. I wore this necklace daily. I felt one with the Chumash, one with the horse, one with the deer, and one with the land. When I said this aloud to Marcie, she rolled her eyes and laughed at me. I just, closed my eyes, ignored her, and tried to be in the moment.
We reached an area of trees and found ourselves stopped by a barbed wire fence. Marcie reached into her back pocket and pulled out a pair of wire-cutters.
“What are you doing?” I asked, even though I knew.
“I’m gonna cut this danged fence. If we go up this way, it is a natural circle back to the ranch. It’s a short-cut home,” she said.
“Oh, my God, Marcie. Is this someone’s land? You can’t do that, can you? I mean, what if you get caught? Isn’t that against the law, or something, um, what if someone shoots at us? Hey, I’m not sure about THIS… we could get into big trouble, couldn’t we?” I asked all at once.
“Oh, Jesus, relax, will ya? It’s not a biggie, for crying out loud! I do it all the time. Everyone does. Here, look at this…” she said pointing to the ground.
I looked down and there were several loose wires where someone had cut the fencing many times before. I looked over at her and watched her snip the taut, star-pronged barbed wire. It bounced back against the fencepost and she gingerly picked it up and moved it out of the path.
“Make sure you move it, though, ‘cause you don’t want the horses to get tangled up. If you come out here by yourself, make sure you carry some wire-cutters. Just don’t do it if you see a city truck or one of the railroad guys out here. If they catch you, they’ll turn you in and you’ll get a ticket,” she said.
Oh, great, I thought. I wondered what would happen if we were caught on the land.
Just as I had the thought, she said, “And if they catch you out here… just act like you didn’t know. And… For God’s sake… hide your wire-cutters.”
Shadrack stood perfectly still while Marcie remounted. I marveled at his patience and had to wonder what was going to happen when I got down off Penny.
“Um, Marcie? I’ve really gotta go. Man, how I wish I hadn‘t had that last cup of coffee.” I said.
“Well, GO!” she said.
“Out here? In the open? No way. Besides, once I get off Penny, I’m gonna need something to stand on in order to get back on.” I said.
“There’s nobody out here. You can just go. Go ahead, I’ll hold Penny and there’s a tree stump right over there that you can stand on. It’s okay… I won’t look.” she said and laughed.
I was uncomfortable with the thought of peeing out in the open but I was getting even more uncomfortable sitting straight up, legs dangling numbly, and my bladder screaming to cut loose its contents. I couldn’t take it anymore. I felt every step, every little bump, every movement… in my burgeoning bladder.
I slid my right leg over the top of Penny’s withers and jumped off. Penny decided it was a good time to lean down and scratch her leg, which made the fall to the ground a little closer and less jarring.
“Hey, good timing. Here, give her to me.” Marcie said.
I walked Penny over to her, pulled the reins over the top of her head and handed them to Marcie.
“K… I’ll be right back.” I said.
“Watch out for rattlesnakes.” she yelled out.
I hadn’t even thought about the fact that there were probably all kinds of snakes, coyote, mice, kangaroo rats, and other crawling, icky, predatory critters running around in this wilderness. Now, I was about to hang it all out and squat vulnerably in their territory.
“Oh, yeah, GREAAAAATTT… Thanks, like I needed to know that!” I said.
I found a semi-private spot and commenced with the purging. As I squatted there, I looked up and noticed something moving in the dirt. A horny toad was meandering along a small dirt trail. I finished up quickly, ran over, and caught it.
I held him carefully and ran back toward Marcie and the horses yelling, “HEY! LOOK WHAT I FOUND!”
I reached up and held it out to her. Just as I did this, wet slid down my arms and sprinkled in my face. Peeing, evidently, is one of their defense mechanisms.
“Oh. My. God.” I said as I wiped my forehead and cheek. “That is SO gross!”
Marcie laughed hysterically.
“Oh, yeah, you think that’s funny?” I said.
“Yeah.” she said laughing. “You are now ‘one’ with the horny toad.”
I rolled my eyes at her and said, “Yeah, well, I’m takin’ him home. Even though he DID just piddle all over me. Bastard.”
I took the reins from Marcie and led Penny to the tree stump. I then realized I would have too many things in my hands and let the horny toad go. He quickly hopped away probably wondering what in the heck just happened.
Annie followed us and when we got to the stump, I noticed that she was breathing hard and her tongue was dripping with saliva. She was hot and thirsty and had been eating Penny’s dust for several miles. I offered her some water, spilling a little on the ground, and she lay right down in the cool of the wet.
“I think Annie’s about had it.” I said.
“Yeah. She’s not used to this. You might have to carry her back.” Marcie said.
“Oh, yeah, right, like, how am I gonna get her up on Penny? Do you think Penny would be alright with that?” I asked.
“Sure. She won’t even notice,” she said.
I’d never seen anyone riding their horse with their dog sitting between their legs and, the thought of it seemed kind of sissy-fied. Most people would just yell at their dog, go on their merry way, and hope the dog eventually made it back home. However, this was our first time out and I’m sure Annie couldn’t find her way back to the ranch. Besides, this was my Annie and there’s no way I would just yell at her and leave her behind.
Annie always went to the beach with me and, when I surfed, she would swim out to me and I’d put her up on my surfboard and we would just sit out on the water; hanging out. People walking along the beach would stop and yell, “Hey, look at that guy and his dog… surfing! “ (I was in a wetsuit and from that distance; you couldn’t tell I had boobs. That’s what I told myself, anyway.) Surfing on a bareback pad on the back of a horse couldn’t be much different than riding the tiny waves at Pismo. Or could it?
I looked at Annie and saw that she was really huffing and puffing. She’s a middle-aged dog, I thought. God, I don’t want her having a heart attack out here in the middle of nowhere. Sissy-fied, or not, she was goin’ up on that horse’s back.
“Okay, I’m gonna try it.” I said.
Marcie held Penny’s bridle and steadied her near the stump. Penny, bored with the entire operation, began eating grass and swatting flies. I could tell she was listening because her ears were back and when I gave Annie a command, she turned to look at what was happening.
“Annie, come.” I said while snapping my fingers and pointing to the top of the old tree stump.
Annie obediently jumped up and waggled for her next command. She loved doing tricks and trying new things and I was about to try on a doozy of a new one. I held her collar and stepped up onto the stump myself. Once there, I picked her up and tried to lift her onto the bareback pad. She wiggled in my arms and turned herself until she was upside down. I flipped her over and thought I was going to drop her but instead, she landed on her feet, on Penny’s back.
“Smooth move, Ex-Lax” Marcie said sarcastically.
“Yeah, well, you try it, smarty-farty.” I retorted.
I continued to hold Annie’s collar and gently jumped up onto Penny’s back. Annie sat between my legs. Penny turned and looked back at the both of us and then shook her entire body to no avail. The bareback pad was holding tight and so was I.
Annie lowered herself down; straddling Penny’s back and got comfortable. I’m sure she was quite glad to be riding versus walking because she was panting heavily and leaning hard into me. I grabbed the reins and a small amount of Penny’s mane to steady myself while gently guiding Penny away from the stump and back onto the trail.
“C’mon.” I said. “Let’s go while the going’s good.”
“What about your horny toad?” Marcie asked.
“I think he has to pee again,” she laughed.
“You carry him. He likes you. He hasn’t peed on you… yet. Nah, not really, I let him go. He belongs out here.” I said laughing.
A hawk circled in the sky above us. More images of my dog, my horse, the Chumash, and me floated before my eyes. I smiled at Marcie.
“You know, this is great.” I said.
Marcie winked at me then kicked Shadrack into a gallop and rode away. As I watched her pull off, I realized that I would remember this particular trail and would make it our daily walk. Marcie was giving me some space to discover and explore and I appreciated it. I put my hand up to cover my eyes from the sun and saluted the hawk as if to say, ‘See you tomorrow, old friend.’
My horse, my dog, and I moved along slowly, taking in the sights, sounds, and smells while memories etched heavily into my mind. There was such a peaceful freedom in riding my horse. I felt connected to everything and everyone in both the present and the past. History lessons floated to the surface of my mind and merged into fantastical stories of “Natalie, Penny, and Annie: The Surfer Cowgirl Adventures.”
We crested the top of the hill and stopped to rest in the shade of a group of trees. You could see the ocean from our vantage point and it was breathtaking. Sitting high atop Penny allowed me to see more than the average view. In fact, I could see from Avila Beach all the way to Oceano. There, in that one spot by the two-trunk oak tree, we found our special place and would visit many times over the next several months. I never took any person to that place; not even Marcie. It was our place: my dog, my horse, and me.
I think Marcie knew about it but never said anything. She was grateful Penny had a good home and was happy to see me grow in my “horsey” knowledge and excitement. She told me later that the look on my face was enough for her. She and I were great friends and went on many, many long rides that included many, many long conversations about life, love, and critters.
There was only one time that we took a ride and so much happened that I vowed I would never drink and ride again.
