This is what the riding ring used by the girls' camp now looks like. Birch trees are usually the first hardwood to start the process of reclaiming the forest.
When my sister and I were girls we were obsessed with horses. There was a girls' camp up the lake from us that had horses and the girls got to take riding lessons. We befriended the instructor, named "Mr. John," and would watch the riding lessons pretty much every morning. We got to be pretty well known, but only as "those two who watch us ride every day." There was a horse show at the end of the season, and we were introduced to the group by the camp's owner.
Our dream of riding in the ring came true the last year Mr. John was there. He let us ride our picks of the 7 or so horses he had (he owned the horses & brought them every summer), and for as long as we wanted. Talk about ecstasy!. We could never ride because of insurance, etc. liability. Now that I think of it, that was a little strange because they were HIS horses. Anyway, we had a grand time that day, it's something we both remember fondly.
My cousin, who sometimes accompanied us to the ring, found Mr. John not too long ago, got in touch with him & visited him. She photographed him and sent me a picture. I could recognize him, even 45 years later. How cool is that? Well not so strange when you consider he was someone who played a really important role in our lives. We learned a lot about riding and horses from him. Like, which diagonal you have the horse trot on, how to change leads when the horse is cantering, that horses bite, how to get into the saddle, and oh, so many oher things.
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