Back when I was a wee little Mochaface, I was also a Girl Scout. One of the best parts of being a Girl Scout was summer camp.
There were two Girl Scout camps in my area. One was near a lake. I only went there once, and all I remember about it was canoes and the extra-large one-room cabin all the girls in my group slept in.
The second was my favorite. And it had everything to do with the horse riding.
All of the groups at this camp got to ride horses at least once. And then there were the groups that were dedicated to horseback riding. They got to ride horses every day.
I was lucky enough to attend one such group before I left the Girl Scouts.
As part of the equestrian group, we were taught how to saddle our own horses and were required to every time before we rode.
One afternoon, we saddled up and went on a trail ride. After a time we came to a clearing where we practiced our trotting.
As I made my way around the clearing, I started to slip. Apparently, I hadn't saddled the horse correctly. I hoped that I would manage to stay on the horse until we were done when I could climb down and resaddle. The right way.
Only I kept slipping. And slipping. And slipping. Until I fell off that horse completely embarrassed.
Thankfully I didn't get hurt as I had slipped so much I didn't have that far to fall.
Maybe that's why I've never become a great equestrian.