Saved from the worst of a freak accident by her riding helmet and a bit of luck, a woman contemplantes the meaning of risk, the decisions we make and the rewards horses--and horsepeople--can bring to our lives. We had been riding for a while beforewe stopped to take our very first break of a four-day ride. Pat Maier, our guide, alerted all the riders, "Make sure the tree you tie your horse to is a live one. "No, not that one, it's dead!" he added in the next breath to a fellow rider, but it was too late. A horse's rump bumped the trunk and while he spoke, a tree dropped through the sky toward me. I saw it only for a split second out of the corner of my eye, and it was too late to move. I was still on my horse when it slammed my helmeted head andthen my shoulder. The next thing I knew, I was on the ground in pain. When I came to and opened my eyes, Pat was there, holding me and supporting my head. He assured me I would be alright. He had rushed to my side as soon as he saw me fall. Then anotherface appeared. The man said, "I'm Dr. Wayne. How are you?" It was another rider, one I had not met before. He examined me and said I didn't appear to have broken anything. I had a bad bruise on my back, but miraculously, I apparently had suffered no severe head or neck injuries. I slowly got up and turned around and saw two men looking at me, worry evident on their faces. I asked for Advil, ate some food and went over to a tree to rest.
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