A dog may be man's best friend but the horse wrote history. - Author Unknown
APHA Black overo gelding - Stetson Max # 1,017,501
2012 APHA Black overo gelding. Colorful and cute black overo gelding. He has had 30 days of riding. Cute little gelding with a nice attitude. $2000
AQHA Blue roan mare - Blue Miss Redford
APHA Black overo gelding - Maxs Lil Spark # 1,003,097
2010 APHA Black overo gelding. He is just back from the trainer and 30 days of riding. Don't blame him because he's 7 years old and green broke. We simply have too many horses to ride for the time we have available. $1700
APHA Black overo gelding - Ima Foxy Max #968,835
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2009 APHA Black overo gelding. Maxdee Blue x PR Mans Black Fox. He has had 45 days of riding. $1950
APHA Black overo gelding - Slick to the Max #968,076
2009 APHA Black overo gelding. Maxdee Blue x RC Slick Te Watch. He has had 45 days of riding. $1950
We ride never worry 'bout the fall, guess that's just the cowboy in us all.
> I ride. That seems like such a simple statement. However as many women
> who ride know... it is really a complicated matter. It has to do with power and
> empowerment; being able to do things you might once have considered out of
> reach or ability. I have considered this as I shovel manure, fill water in the
> cold rain, wait for the vet/farrier/electrician/hay delivery, change a tire on
> a horse trailer by the side of the freeway, or cool a gelding out before
> getting down to the business of drinking a cold drink after a long ride.
> The time, the money, the effort it takes to ride calls for dedication. At
> least, I call it dedication. Both my ex-husbands call it 'a sickness.'
> It's a nice sickness I've had since I was a small girl bouncing my
> plastic model horses and dreaming of the day I would ride a real horse. Most of
> the women I ride with understand that meaning of 'the sickness.' It's not a
> sport. It's not a hobby. It's what we do and-- in some ways-- who we are as
> women and human beings.
> I ride. I hook up my trailer and load my gelding. I haul to some nice
> trailhead somewhere, unload, saddle up, whistle up my dog and I ride. I breathe
> in the air, watch the sunlight filter through the trees and savour the movement
> of my horse. My shoulders relax. A smile spreads across my weathered face. I
> pull my floppy hat down and let the real world fade into the tracks my horse
> leaves in the sand.
> Time slows. Flying insects buzz loudly, looking like fairies. My gelding
> flicks his ears and moves down the trail. I can smell his sweat and it is
> perfume to my senses. Time slows. The rhythm of his walk and the movement of
> the leaves become my focus. My saddle creaks and the leather rein in my hand
> softens with the warmth.
> I consider the simple statement: I ride. I think of all I do because I
> ride. Climb rocky slopes, wade into a lily-pad lake, race a friend across the
> hayfield... all the while laughing and feeling my heart in my chest. Other days
> just the act of mounting and dismounting can be a real accomplishment. Still I
> ride, no matter how tired or how much my sitter bones or any of my other
> acquired horse-related injuries hurt. I ride. And I feel a lot better for doing
> I think of the people, mostly women, that I've met. I consider how
> competent they all are. Not a weenie in the bunch. We haul 40 ft. rigs, we
> back 'em up into tight spaces without clipping a tree. We set up camp, tend the
> horses. We cook and keep our camp neat. We understand and love our companion--,
> our horses. We respect each other and those we encounter on the trail. We know
> that if you are out there riding, you also shovel, fill, bathe, wait and
> doctor. Your hands are a little rough and you travel without makeup or hair
> gel. You do without to afford the 'sickness' and probably, when you were a
> small girl, you bounced a little model horse while you dreamed of riding a real
> "My treasures do not chink or glitter, they gleam in the sun and neigh in
> the night!