A pinched mouth and narrow eyes may be a sign your horse is in pain or a bad mood.
I look up for a quick inventory of my horse’s face. Pinched mouth: check. Narrow eyes: check. It’s a hot and humid Tuesday afternoon at Manchaca’s Bear Creek Stables, and I’m about to get on a horse for the first time in, oh, 15 years. I’ve already signed away any “liability, loss, damage, cost, expense, or claim” I might pursue, and now ol’ Chiefy’s got them narrow eyes.
“You might not want to stand there,” says Bear Creek’s Carly Cotanch, warning me of a quick foreleg kick. Chiefy’s been dragged away from his evening feeding for this ride, and he’s a bit wary of my company. I understand, the waiver reads, that being around horses is inherently dangerous because they are living creatures and not predictable. I give Chiefy a little more room. Everything’s going to be cool, I tell him; just me and you and the wild hard trail.
Wild and hard? Not exactly. Although most of the action at Bear Creek takes place in the arena and jumping pen, a number of short trails range through the 20-acre spread that founder Linda Dovers first staked out in 1983. From meager beginnings, Bear Creek has grown. It now houses more than 30 horses, the star players in Bear Creek’s year-round menu of university classes, private lessons, summer camps, trail rides, boarding options, and something called “western pleasure” training. Hmmm.
As it turns out, Carly will ride Chiefy; I’m saddled up on a slighter fellow named Chief. He’s known for his gentle nature, but I’m not taking chances. Before we’re even out of the barn, I start in with the sweet nothings, telling Chief what a fine and lovely beast he is. He nods knowingly. Keep it coming, his eyes tell me. You’re the boss, I respond. We head out into the pasture and circle around the barn, passing my muddy Toyota and the city horse strapped to its back — a 21-speed street bike that’s never done me wrong. (Not as impressive as Chief, I’ll admit, but I do save on oats.) Still, there’s something right and good about waltzing around on the back of a genuine horse, and as we head past scrub oak and wildflowers and toward the creek, I wish I’d had the foresight to wear my cowboy hat. Ah well. Chief is a champ, cool and collected and as easy to steer as a brand-new tricycle; as with most of Bear Creek’s resident animals, he’s a training horse, and plenty used to fresh-faced city rubes like myself.
We’re scarcely into the woods before Chiefy sees something he doesn’t like. He balks and turns away. Despite a few earnest entreaties, and even a solid heel into his flank, Chiefy won’t budge. The trails are muddy, scents alive, and more rain coming. Chiefy pinches his mouth and narrows his eyes. Perhaps he knows something we don’t. Carly decides not to push him, and with a second, steeper trail already rained out for the day, our trail ride becomes little more than a traipse around the pasture. There’ll be no cowboy fantasies today: We head back to the barn for the dismount, and a few last words of encouragement for my loyal steed.
Intrepid reporter that I am, I take off on foot to follow the trail that Chiefy snubbed. It’s shady and pleasant and decidedly Central Texan, if a bit short: At a mile or two all told, Bear Creek’s trails can easily be covered in 45 minutes. You’ll never reach the unbridled gallop of, say, the Argentinian pampas, and you’ll not exactly feel lost in the wilderness. But for a joint scarcely out of town, it does the trick nicely, be ye greenhorn, broncbuster, or somewhere in between.
*Private lessons and trail rides available by appointment. University classes available through ACC, SWT, and UT’s Informal Class catalog. Week-long horse and swim camps run May 31-August 13. Bear Creek Stables, 13017 Bob Johnson Rd, Manchaca, TX 78652, 512/282-0250, http://www.greencity.com/bcs.htm, or ldovers@aol.com –Jay Hardwig
This article appears in May 21 • 1999 and May 21 • 1999 (Cover).