One other thing we were taught about riding horses: How to stay out of the “Dusty Bottoms Club.” That was what you joined if you fell off your horse! That was not seen as a good thing.

If you felt that might be about to happen, you were supposed to lean forward, put your arms around the horse’s neck, and slide off, sideways, so that your feet touched the ground, not your butt! That saved your pride too. You also had to be careful you didn’t get stepped on; that could be dangerous.

I never joined the “Dusty Bottoms Club,” but I did come close a time or two – like on those two trail rides when my horse got spooked and ran. But otherwise, I learned how to sense the movements my horse was going to make, and to move with it. It was an amazing feeling, to know this huge, powerful creature was underneath me, but was still responsive to my guidance.

At the end of each summer, there was a special exhibition called a “Gymkhana,” wherein selected riders got to show off the skills they had learned, including jumping over poles set up in the ring. My second summer, I had mostly ridden a lovely brown mare named Jerry, whose saddle fit me like a glove; but she got pregnant that summer, and was too full with foal by the end of the summer. So I had to ride a gelding named Butternut instead.

I had ridden him several times before, so was not unfamiliar with him. But he had one bad habit: he was a “biter.” If another horse got closer than he liked, he would turn and nip at that horse – and that could cause a problem! So I had to be very watchful, during that Gymkhana, to make sure we kept our distance from the other horses.

One thing I learned about riding horses: it was similar to sailing a sailboat, in that you had to be very sensitive to the movement of the vessel beneath you, and able to anticipate which way it was going to move next, so that you were not caught off-guard, and knew what to do to get to where you wanted to go.

With a sailboat, changes in the wind could be totally unpredictable. With a horse, it could sometimes be unpredictable too. Being unprepared with either could be dangerous!

Life is like that, too, isn’t it?

I did get to go on a couple of overnight trail hikes. Those were fun. A truck would take us a few miles outside of camp and drop us off on a Monday morning, and come back to pick us up on Friday afternoon. We followed established trails through woods and fields, and the counselors in charge knew exactly where to stop and pitch tents for overnight.

We could only manage about 10 miles a day, which may not sound like much. But, trekking up and down hills, with backpacks carrying clothes, food and cooking utensils was harder than we at first thought. We had been told to be sure to pack thick hiking socks, and we soon found out why: otherwise it was east to get blisters on our feet!

One big change was we no longer had the “luxury” of taking hot showers. We would always camp beside a stream or a spring, so sometimes our “showers” consisted of stripping, jumping under a pipe protruding from a rock with clear but cold spring water coming out, bathing quickly, and getting out as soon as you could to towel off and get dressed. I never realized that spring-fed water would be so cold, even in the hottest part of the summer!

Another fun place I got to experience was to a place called “Pisgah Slide,” in the nearby Pisgah National Forest. It was this gently-sloping waterfall on a river, with a pool at the bottom, that you could sit down in and slide from the top to the bottom. The rock slide had been worn smooth, over the years, by the creek, so it was easy to “sit down and slide” your way to the bottom.

The only problem was, even in the middle of July, the water was ice-cold, because it was spring water. So when you sat down in the stream at the top of the slide, it felt like you were sitting in a bed of ice cubes! And when you fell into the pool at the bottom, the cold water shocked you so much it was hard to breathe!

It was, strangely, great fun! And many of us climbed out, went back to the top, and did the ride again.

Quite a change from swimming in the warm water of the Atlantic Ocean at Tybee Island.

What an amazing adventure these various activities and excursions were.

One last amazing adventure awaited, in my last installment.

Up next: An archaeological dig!