
It was one of those bright sunny days in summer that seemed things might go my way when I asked my Mother whether we could go to the riding stables in Banff. Just to look at the horses. If I could not go riding, then looking at them would be almost as satisfactory. Further, it was clear that riding was out of the question as my Mother wore a full skirted dress.
The rental riding stables in Banff were located within the town in the 50s and early 60s before moving to locations south of Bow River and the Banff Springs Hotel. When we reached one particular stable, my Mother spoke to a wizened grey haired cowboy while I peered through the open doors of the barn smelling the comforting scents of hay, straw, leather and horses. The few horses that remained in the stable stood in tie stalls with their glossy hindquarters visible.
The conversation behind me took an interesting turn when my Mother explained my interest in riding but didn’t want me to go out by myself at age 9. This was due to my first wild gallop across a field at age 6 (to be related in a later post). The elderly gent seemed to have a twinkle in his eye when he suggested my Mother accompany me, and despite her protest of her attire he suggested she wear a pair of full bat wing chaps so she’d be decently covered while sitting astride. Mother rode the man’s son’s personal mount and I on one of the string horses, a chestnut mare in foal.

Thus, we made quite the sight to my brothers who discovered us returning from a lovely ride to Bow Falls.
This post is a tribute to my late Mother as today would have been her birthday. She was born in 1911 and passed away in 1989.


14 comments:
Lovely tribute, Barbara!
You can tell by the marvelous photos that both of you were having a grand time.
My sister and I took one of the trail rides in Banff once years ago. I think I remember the horse more than the scenery!
Lovely tribute to your mom and great photos.
Your mother was very good sportswoman, and so are you!It must be lovely. In Indonesia we had to travel on horseback on short distances. But the horses were very small like ponies.
Great pics you got here Barbara. BTW, is your dark fantasy novel or work available to read? I noticed that is what you write and I love reading dark fantasy but the pickings are extremely slim.
Such old memories are treasures worth their "weight in gold". Or rather - they are irreplaceable.
I understand your commemoration.
Loved the scents in this post
and the spiral in the previous one, Barbara
Warm Aloha to you
from Honolulu!
Comfort Spiral
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What a wonderful memory.
Oh what a beautiful tribute to your Mother, Barbara! And the photos have such happiness about them - how lovely that you were able to have the horse-ride!
I loved this post, Barbara. Your mother seems like such a wonderful woman. It looks like you were both having a great time.
Such a poignant remembrance of your mother, Barbara. She'd be so proud of you.
David, the best part of this story was that Brother #3 had ridden the mare I was on the day before with a harrowing incident of nearly being scraped off against a tree. She behaved perfectly for me.
Reb, I have always liked each of the trail horses I have ridden in the past, each with their own personality.
Wil, my Mother grew up on a farm and rode a Shetland Pony during her childhood moving on to horses as she got older.
Michael, mine isn't quite ready yet, but you could try Angry Robot Books. The link is on the side.
RuneE, I find that recalling the fond memories keeps the connection.
Cloudia, your intuitive abilities must be sharpening.
Leah, my Mother is the reason I love the Rockies so much. She went on vacations there as a child, and so did I.
Phoenix, those chaps made all the difference.
Teresa, it's those unexpected occurrences that tend to stick in the mind. In later years my Mother got herself a pair of breeches and I'd make certain they were in the luggage.
Rick, thank you.
What beautiful smiles! Thanks for sharing this memory.
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