I prefer a mule

Keeping with the ragged pace our social director set for us we quickly left the sheep at the Staigue Fort to head to our horseback riding appointment. Our first task was to pick out a helmet. Next we met our trusty steads to learn that we'll be riding English. Hey, where's the handle on this thing?

OK, no big deal. If I can a drive stick shift car on the wrong side of the road I think I can handle this. After a quick lesson we head out with our guides down the road toward the water.

As you can see the beach is very rocky. I wondered if the horses would slip, but they knew what they were doing. I guess they've been there before.

Then we picked the pace up and headed into the hills.

Here is the view from atop my trusty stead. You can see the beach where we rode below.

The only casualty from this adventure was a new pair of khakis that simply wouldn't come clean. That is some tenacious Irish mud. If only I had a taller horse. A shire horse would have done splendidly...


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