“It’s like someone took all of the important bits of our lives and just… shook ’em all up!” I flail dramatically with a Dalmar boot to emphasize my point. Stephanie laughs and nods in agreement as we continue to sort through several trunks and totes of assorted equine odds and ends in the barn parking lot. Today is quite possibly one of the greatest days of all time. My best friend of many years and companion on so many teenage misadventures has relocated to Sacramento and will soon be joining me at Dragonfire.
I carry on with my train of thought as I toss some saddle pads in to the keeper pile. “Now I’m the one with the Morgan, you’ve become the risk taker and — ohmygodisthatyouroldvest?!” My words run together in breathless excitement – a speed and tone reminiscent of teenage me, gushing over Trent Reznor.
Held aloft in the early evening light is one of many pieces of our shared history – a blue Tipperary vest. We gaze at it for a long moment filled with a feeling somewhere between nostalgia and discovery.
Stephanie and I met as teenagers when we both rode at Pebble Beach Equestrian Center. I was the rebellious Jumper rider and she was the lone Eventer in a barn full of Hunter Princesses. It was only natural that we’d end up fast friends. We spent the mid to late 90s living the quintessential barn rat life. Like so many teenagers, we practically lived at the barn. We logged endless hours in the saddle – in lessons, at shows, or most frequently crashing through the woods and doing all sorts of Stupid Things(tm). In those times I was usually the one who came up with the Bad Ideas, though I will credit Stephanie with a few of the real doozies. Her role was to come up with a reasonable explanation if one of us got hurt, caught or otherwise in to trouble.
“It’s so tiny!”
“How did we fit in to that?”
We marvel at the vest for a few moments longer and reminisce. I borrowed it for my single foray in to Eventing as a teenager. There is no way I could fit in to it now, ahem years and oh-my pounds later. Somehow Stephanie wriggles in to it and surprisingly it still kind of fits! It fits in the sense that the velcro, zippers and clips close, but since it’s a child’s super-adjustable vest, she can flex like the Incredible Hulk and pop all of the velcro fasteners. This of course amuses us for a few minutes, but causes us to doubt the vest’s ability to provide protection.
It’s been a lifetime since the vest was worn. Fifteen years never went by so fast. Even though it’s all scrambled up and the features of our lives reassigned, here we are – still at it even after college, some breaks from horses, boyfriends, a wedding, cross country moves and more. I’m not the same rider I was as a teenager. She’s here though, trapped in this 30-something body.
Having my best friend back at my barn is a fresh start on old adventures and a gateway to new ones. I’m looking forward to watching Stephanie bring along her OTTB and having a partner in crime when it comes to Bad Ideas like our N3D pact. We will be successful in this despite my irrational dislike of downbanks and her not having started her horse over fences yet.
I am seventeen again and fearless. Go Team DF, Go Friendship, Go Eventing.
