It’s been a rainy and lazy day at the ranch… I went for a walk with Daniel, Jen, Brittany, and Amaris earlier before it started raining. We walked down to the bridge and put our feet in the river. It’s so cold… your feet hurt when you come out. We’re at 7000 feet, and the Buffalo Fork River that runs through the ranch is virtually all snow-melt from the long winter. It’s been high the last few days.

We played monopoly this afternoon. I haven’t played that in a long time.. so intense when you start getting into it. :) We’re about to go eat dinner and then head into Jackson to watch the Dark Knight. I’m so pumped. It’s going to be good.

We’re starting to wrangle up at 2-mile pasture this week… the days are going to get long. We have to ride two miles up the road to the pasture and then herd all the horses down back to the ranch… then we have to herd them all back up to the pasture at the end of the day. Talk about getting up at 4:00 a.m. and working until 6:00 or 7:00 p.m. Long days.

One of my horses is a young mare named Alice. She’s a light brownish red color… what we call a sorrel horse. She’s got a thick mane and a really pretty face. Along with her good looks and build, she’s got quite the temper and attitude problem. She’s new to the ranch as of about three weeks ago… I’ve ridden her several times already, and I’m working with her to try and teach her to be a lead horse. The vast majority of the horses we have are “dude” horses, meaning they were only trained to follow in a straight line behind another horse. If you try to lead with them or get them to go out by themselves, they balk, circle around, paw the ground, and occasionally kick and crow-hop.

Back to my story… the other day was just like any other day, except I was going to ride Alice, instead of my other horse. It took me a good ten minutes to catch her in the corrals, followed by another fifteen minutes trying to get her out of the corrals. Once I did, I tied her up and began to groom her. She wasn’t liking it. Every time I would get close to her, she would swing her backside in my direction in order to kick me with her back legs. We continued to play this little game… I finally got her saddled. I tied up the cinch strap that holds the saddle on, but I didn’t tighten it. I always wait to tighten the cinch until I’m about to get on. She still would not stand still. I finally untied her and walked her over to another pole away from the commotion of the barn. I was nearing the pole… I was about five feet away when she jerked the rope out of my hand, ran through me, and started bucking down the alley way we were in. She bucked hard — harder than many of the rodeo broncs I’ve seen down in Jackson. She bucked the whole 50 yards down the alley way… she kicked her back two legs up higher than her head every time. Halfway down the alleyway, my saddle slipped underneath her onto her belly… now in full range of her kicking legs. She got to the end of the alleyway and realized the gate was closed, so she bucked her way back up. On the way, she shattered one of my stirrups and broke the leather strappings that held the saddle on. My saddle flew off of her, and she stomped on it on the way down. Once the saddle was gone, she slowed down enough for me to grab the rope and calm her down..

My saddle was laying in a pile of dust and broken, scatched leather. I didn’t end up riding Alice that day. I decided that I’d give her the day off to cool off. It was pretty exciting… despite her temper and attitude, I underestimated her. I never thought she had it in her to buck that hard. We’ll see how she does next time I get on her…

Pray for the family and close friends of Ben Entwistle. He was a good friend, brother, and fellow student at Covenant College. He went home to be with his Father this week after suffering a bacterial infection on his heart, followed by a stroke. He was in Nairobi, Kenya and was in the process of being medically evacuated to South Africa to be treated… he died on the plane.

Ben was a good friend… and Heaven is richer because of his presence there.

The first thought that came into my mind when I heard “horse whisperer” was some sort of man with the ability to actually converse (in some form or another) with horses in a way that he could take an un-tamed, un-broken horse and ride it safely after “talking” with the horse.

It’s been over two months now since I’ve been out here in Jackson Hole, Wyoming… working as a horse wrangler at a ranch called Turpin Meadow. Over the last few months, I’ve learned more of what it means to be a horse whisperer. My original thought, as I said earlier, was not too far off from what a horse whisperer actually is… though there is nothing supernatural about being a horse whisperer. I’ve been blessed to learn how to understand horses and the ways in which they think and act… and in doing so, I’ve learned that being a horse whisperer is about having a teacher/student relationship with your horse, rather than one of master/slave. It’s about being able to read and understand what a horse is thinking and doing – recognizing their attitudes and, in turn, dealing with them accordingly. As one man told me recently, “Deal with the attitude, and you won’t have to deal with the action.” It’s about being a friend and teacher, rather than someone who dominates and enslaves.

The last few days, we’ve been working with two of our younger horses down at the corrals… they’re both three years old, and neither of them have been ridden more than one or two times ever. They’re un-broken, as many people would call them. One is a beautiful light brown mare named Ginger. She’s got a black wavy mane and tail and white socks from her knees down. If I had to choose a horse from our herd of 85, hands down, she’s the most beautiful. The other is a guelding named Angel Boy. He is a lighter brown than Ginger with a white blaze down his face. He’s also got a light brown mane and tail… easily in the top five of my favorite horses in our herd.

It’s been an incredible learning experience being a part of “breaking” Ginger and Angel Boy. There are different ways to break a horse. One way is to simply saddle him up and buck him out… the way I have learned is a longer and slower process, but it develops a friendship and trust in the horse. It’s about understanding the horse and teaching him that you are a place of refuge and friendship — not domination, terror, or fear.

I could continue writing for pages and pages about the specific things I have learned… maybe sometime soon I’ll write again.