My horse felt good this morning, even after the long haul last night. He was the type that was always a little on edge, head up, nostrils flared, looking for an excuse to blow sideways. He was athletic enough that it was a commitment to throw a leg over him, there was no relaxing on him unless he was running as fast as he could through the barrel pattern. That was the only time he truly focused. If I didn't ride him everyday, he'd get to be such a mess that he wouldn't even walk in a straight line. Today though-he was perfect. The long ride had taken a little of his razor's edge away, but he was still sharp. Warming him up was like a dream...he was soft in the bridle, responsive to my feet, but ready to throw his tail up and scatter if I gave him half a chance. I had countless hours of sweat and tears poured into him, and thankfully my hard work was paying off. He had yet to dissapoint me, for all that he was known as an outlaw, he gave me all he had to give any time I asked him for it.

I knew how tough the competition would be, alot of the pro girls had their futurity colts with them, along with their backup horses. A big barrel race like this one was perfect for getting a colt out and getting them exposed to the sights and sounds, and was equally as good to get a feel for how a back up horse was working, whether they were on the top of their game or whether they needed a little tuning. Dad had entered me as soon as he'd heard about it, so I was one of the luck ones to be entered in the first 60 runners. They had limited their entries, they didn't want the jackpot to run long and cause the rodeo to start late that afternoon. The cut it off at 150, but it was still going to be a long day. The rodeo started at 4, which gave me plenty of time to get some sleep as soon as I got done with the barrel race and had Coolie put up and taken care of. It was cool that morning, the breeze lifted my horse's forelock as it blew between his ears. A deep, rolling breath echoed out of his nostrils as he stretched his frame into a long, sweeping trot, his strides reaching a little farther with each step. We only had about five more runners before us, so as we finished a short circle, I eased back into my saddle, dropping my weight and asking for a stop. The big chesnut horse slowed his stride, dropping his head as he rounded his back and brought his hind feet up beneath him. He heaved a big sigh as I stepped off, shaking his head and licking his lips. I cleaned all four feet, checked my polo wraps on all of his legs, cinched him up just a tad tighter, stretched his front and hind legs. He knew the drill...as soon as his feet touched the ground and I was back aboard, he began to dance. Not uncontrollable, not wild, just excited. His pace was just between that of a prance and a short trot, I could feel his heart thumping with each breath he took. As his heart started to speed up, mine did as well.
There was a long alley through the bucking chutes that led to the arena, I gave it a wide berth. My big gelding was explosive after he heard my name called...he knew when it was his time to shine. An unbroken string of words came from my mouth, my voice kept him just distracted enough that he didn't turn and bolt for the alley way. They called the name of the girl ahead of me as I slipped rubber bands around my feet, my horse stepping sideways as he adjusted to my weight. I found a quiet spot along the fence and walked him right up to it, pressing his nose against the vibrant blue pipe rails. Banners flapped against the fence, making a slapping sound when the wind blew just right.
I could hear the other horse's hooves pounding back from the last barrel as he and his jockey made their dash to stop the clock, her voice sounded above the din as she stopped at the gate.
"WHOAH, easy babe, WHOAH now, whoah."
The big black mare threw dirt in ever direction as she slid to the gate, making the gate man wince and shut his eyes against the down pour. The mare sashayed her way out of the alley, looking no worse for the wear. My heart was beating almost as hard as Coolie's now, hammering a staccato beat against my rib cage. I could feel his lungs drawing deeper and deeper breaths, he knew it was time. The announcer called my name, said the arena was clear and the timer was ready. I eased my hands down the reins, knowing every movement, every thought would carry down the leather lines to his mouth. He was a coiled spring beneath me, one move was all it took. I turned my head and he spun under me like a reiner, flat and fluid--we were headed for the alley. He dropped his head lower as I crouched over his withers, trying to balance my self against the jolt of his quest for flight. I managed to hold him to a ragged, bouncing trot half way down the alley, the echo of the speakers ringing off the metal bucking chutes filled my ears as we went.
"GO baby, turn him loose!"
My dads words were a catalyst, like putting a match to a flame-we flew. Down the alley way, his strides getting longer and longer, I pushed my hands forward, giving him as much rein as I could. He felt solid and smooth beneath me, running as hard as he could. The first barrel was less than five strides away, I rocked my weight back and dropped my left hand as my right clutched the saddle horn. He rated at just the right moment, wrapping the barrel so tight I felt the rim burning my knee as we went. A giant stride later we launced for the second barrel, slipping a little as we went into it. I threw my weight forward, trying to keep myself ahead of his momentum, hoping that he could keep going and not go down. His head shot up as he reached to gather himself, never slowing down, lever losing focus on the task at hand. An extra stride was all it took to set himself right, and off for the third barrel we went, closing the distance rapidly. I couldn't feel any difference in his way of going, no hesitation at all, I was afraid the slip may have pulled or strained something, but it didn't seem like it at the moment. The third barrel was gorgeous, almost a text book turn. He gathered himself and pushed off in one smooth motion, leaving the barrel far behind. I asked him for all he had, and he gave it, reaching, digging deeper into the ground, flying past the timer line. I was out of breath when I got him pulled up, he danced and tossed his head as I pulled my hat loose from my head. I could hear clapping and shouting, but had no clue what was going on. I rode over to a quiet spot in the warm up arena, and swung off. Cinches loosened, saddle re adjusted, I began to unwrap his legs. He was quiet again, still breathing a little more rapidly than normal, but his neck was dry to the touch and he showed no signs of the effort he'd just spent. As I took the wraps off his left side and hung them around my saddle horn, I came face to face with my knight and his big gray horse. Coolie felt the same way I did, and let a big hearty nicker out as he pranced in place.
"Fastest time of the day, good job girl!"
"Huh? Are you talking to me?!"
"Yes ma'am, did you not hear them announce it?!"

I felt my cheeks turning red, it was dawning on me that maybe the clapping and hollering had been for me and the big chesnut after all!