It was a dreary, lonely four-day weekend, deep into a pandemic that left playdates hard to come by. My social, easily-bored son, was bouncing off the walls. Grieving the recent loss of my mother, I had less to offer than normal and was growing increasingly tired of the negative attention-seeking behaviors my active boy was engaging in, i.e. complaining, making messes, roughhousing. In a sudden impulse, I decided when we both feel bad, we need to put good in. The neatest thing I could think of for this self-described “animal guy,” was to take him horseback riding.
He’d been on pony rides in the past, but this was an entirely different scope. Trail rides at Ricochet Ridge Ranch involve being atop a full-size horse. Once mounted, riders cross highway one and walk through forested trails down to Mackerricer State Beach. If the tides are too high, or the waves too fierce, the ride continues along the wet sand. But if the time is right, the low foamy waves lap at the horse hooves, and they waltz through blue and white saltwater.
As soon as I told my son he was going horseback riding that afternoon, all the anger, frustration, and destructive behavior evaporated. He cleaned his room, happily ate lunch, and sang to himself quietly. Most notably, when I told him to get in the car, the transition was quick and seamless.
We set out along the highway, curving past Albion village, Little River and Van Damme, Mendocino, through Fort Bragg, and north to our horseback riding spot. On highway one stood a wooden sign, naming “Ricochet Ridge Ranch.” A long-time fixture on the coast, Ricochet Ridge Ranch is home to over a dozen horses and offers trail rides daily, open to the public.
The fog had cleared, but a cold coastal wind blew. There was one person working. She was doing check-ins, readying the horses, and leading the trail ride. A diverse array of people straggled in, some tourists, a few locals, some kids, and adults. A handsome dog came along and greeted me, bits of straw in his coat and dust on his nose.
My son met his horse and it was love at first sight: Voltaire was his name. We waited patiently as the horses were readied, fed, and watered, saddled up, and eventually drawn over to the block where the riders climbed up onto their perch.
I will fully admit I was scared watching my little boy go. He’s prone to “spacing out,” and I played out my nervous mother’s worst-case scenarios of him falling in the waves, getting trampled, etc. The fact of the matter is that they tied his horse to the leader, and he couldn’t have been in better hands.
He came back calm and proud of himself an hour later, flushed with fresh air and the excitement of the ride.
He told me “some of the horses misbehaved,” which I suspected meant that they were eating alongside the trail when they were supposed to be marching straight ahead. In that hour, I ran along the wooden plank trail at the beach and had a few precious moments to myself.
I thanked the trail guide and told her what a difference it had made for us to come this particular day. She said that she used to be a vet tech and was depressed and unhappy nearly all of the time. Choosing to work with horses had changed her life. No longer depressed, she is excited to go to work each day. The horses were a source of joy for her, and coming back to work with them was one of the best decisions she’d made in a long time. I was struck by the positive chain of events. She’d chosen a job she loved, despite the challenges it brought. Her being there made it possible for my son to expereince his very first horseback ride on a day when he needed it most.
