Hondo, Sweetheart, Anne Shirley and Poker Alice

    

    As we planned this trip, Anne and I decided to go all in. Meaning we'd try to do some of the extra things we would usually pass up on a vacation as too expensive or over the top. Horseback riding through the Badlands was one of those things.

    Note: when I say ‘the Badlands,’ I refer to the area around Badlands National Park that is still very much Badland-y to me. I’m not sure if this is correct, but so be it.

  

     A crystal clear morning found us at Hurley Butte Ranch in Interior, South Dakota. Casey met us outside the barn and introduced herself, her mom, and a friendly assortment of cats. The horses were already saddled and waiting, and without much fuss or bother, Everett was astride Sweetheart, and Olive sat atop Poker Alice.

    Anne was paired with Anne, fittingly enough, (named after Anne Shirley from Anne of Green Gables), and I got Hondo, a handsome fellow who liked to trot up hills. Casey, owner and guide, swung up on Cowpoke, and we were on our way.

    The ride was gorgeous. The horses obviously knew the drill and didn't need too much guidance from their inexperienced riders. Our biggest challenge was to stop them from eating every available tuft of grass within neck's reach.

    Casey was unflappable and looked as comfortable in the saddle as I do in an easy chair. We rode through the ranch, up and down rolling hills, the familiar chalky Badland formations always in sight. Along the way, Casey told us all about the area and its history, and how her family came to own the land using the Homestead Act in the late 1800's. The horses were very gentle (although Sweetheart did decide to gallop up a hill at one point, just for fun, which Everett handled like an old cowhand), and it was easy to just ride along, imagining what it must have been like when horseback was the only mode of transportation besides your own two feet.

   

    All too soon we were headed back to the corral, although the saddle soreness we experienced for the next twenty-four hours indicated one morning of riding was probably plenty for us greenhorns. But what a glorious morning it was.