On a lovely fall Monday afternoon my horse friend, Robin and I were coming up from a wooded trail that led to a field, frequented by some local herds of deer. We were cautious and prepared for a spook, and despite over a decade of experience riding, both my friend and I got thrown when our two horses spooked.
As I fell, my horse threw me into a pine tree and from there I landed on the ground—hard. As I landed, pain blossomed in my back and I heard a loud crack. After years of hearing horror stories, I assumed I had finally managed to break something from a fall. My friend Robin rushed to my side, trying to calm me down, and when I managed to get out that I had heard a crack, she informed me that my helmet had cracked.
After several minutes I managed to get up and take off my helmet, fully appreciating how hard I had hit the ground. My helmet was destroyed, cracked and torn in multiple places, even had chunks missing from the band.
Had I not been wearing the helmet, I can only imagine my head would have looked the same and I would not be around to share this story. Thankfully both my friend and I were OK, bruised up, but we can both live to ride another day.
- October 15, 2013