I listened while she talked about her horse ride in the rain. She said,”It was breathtaking and in words I can’t explain!”
But I’ve been riding in the rain. It sure don’t turn my crank. There’s nothing worse than riding wet. You can take that to the bank.
I’d like to take you back, let’s say, a year or two ago. Our trail ride started early, and little did we know.
All morning long I ate the dust. It coated my new shirt. And when I blew my nose I wondered, “boogers or just dirt?”
At last we finally stopped for lunch right next to Horseshoe Lake. The campfire coals were ready for the smokies and some steak.
The meat was barely cooked to rare. I heard a thunder crack. I guess I hadn’t realized the sky was dang near black.
I looked to my old saddle, not a raincoat anywhere. Then fumbled through the bags and only found a glove in there.
It wasn’t just a sprinkle ‘cuz the rain came pouring down. I thought, right then, with my bad luck I probably would drown.
Now soaking wet and freezing, I was pondering in my brain. I’ll bet Gene Kelly really hated Singing in the Rain.
The horse in front was kicking chunks of mud smack in my face. I must have stayed the saddle through an act of Devine grace.
I’ve heard men talk of wondrous sights they’ve witnessed in their years. But the sight of my old Chevy truck sure brought me close to tears.
Now I’ve learned to wear a raincoat, doesn’t matter what we’ve planned. Mother Nature’s unpredictable. She’s got the upper hand.
And when I hear how someone loves to ride out in the rain. I think I’ll keep my big mouth shut. That person can’t be sane.