When I arrived in Florida I was dog tired.
My new friend Javier trailered Andariega to the small town and picked up his horse Viejo.
“How was the ride,” he asked when we met in the town`s rodeo grounds.
I told him about the last few days on the road and thanked him for lending me his horse.
Andarieja who had been resting in Durazno for the past three days due to an injury to her front right leg, walked normally again. I trotted her around and the mare looked like she was never even injured. Feeling a lot better, Mario and I rested in Florida for two days.
On our first night a criollo group invited us for a barbeque in their headquarters. We talked, drank wine and ate succulent meat before talking to the local media. At the end of the get together, Mario and I were given two plaques with our names…
“As horseman we appreciate the hard work you two are doing,” the president of the group said.
The following day, a local tourist guide took us around the historic town to show us the sights. We went to a rock by the river where the country’s independence from Spain was announced in 1825. We also visited the local basilica and a beautiful museum.
After two days resting and learning we were ready to continue south. While trekking towards the town of Canelones we almost had yet another accident.
I was riding Cautiva when all of a sudden I felt the lead rope go tight in my right hand. When I looked back, Andariega, had dropped to her belly in a wet grassy patch, and was about to roll. My instinct was to pull on the lead rope and in doing so, I put all of my weight on my right stirrup. Riding with a loose cinch, the saddle slid sideways and in seconds I was falling of my mare. Noticing the saddle and I were now on her side, she panicked and began to gallop in frantic circles. I fought to throw the saddle back onto her back with all of my might but it was not enough. Eventually I tried to bail off her side but my right foot remained caught in the stirrup. One of the most dangerous things that can happen to a rider.
I managed to bend Cautiva`s neck by pulling on the reins with my right hand as she twisted her back end away from me. Hitting the pasture with my shoulder, she pulled her body away ripping the reins out of my grip and my boot clean off my foot.
I laid on the short grass, one boot on, watching her gallop in circles to the right with the saddle hanging off her. Andariega right behind me, now standing as still as a statue.
“Whoa, whoa,” I yelled eventually getting the mare to stop.
After quickly putting my boot back on, I walked towards her and fixed the saddle. She shook as if staring at a ghost. Thankfully it was just a scare, but things could have gotten real ugly had my boot not slipped off my foot.
