Acorn

I went to the same, wonderful summer camp from the age of eight until I was sixteen. I started at daycamp, and finished as a Junior Staff. When I was in grades 7 and 8, I would go out on the weekends (Saturdays and Sundays) in the Spring and Fall to groom horses, clean tack, and help on trail rides. Circle R Ranch was my favourite place in the world, and I still think of it often. I met my very best friend at camp when I was 11. She was the maid of honour at my wedding, and is Clara's godmother (even though they have never met - she lives in Calgary, more than halfway across the country). I'm still in touch with several other people, too.


The thing I loved the most about Circle R was riding. And the horses. Beauford, my first horse, was a buckskin. He was older and very placid. Next, I rode Gambit. She was a horse with a bit of attitude. She was a bay, had a hackamore bridle (no bit in her mouth, just a woven band over her nose), and she liked to rear. Show-off that I was at the age of 9, I liked to make her rear when I was riding bareback. I thought it looked impressive that I could stay on with ease. Ride 'em, cowgirl! Then I started riding Acorn. He was a gorgeous chestnut with a wide blaze that tapered to a slightly crooked stripe on his face, and two long socks on his back legs. He was spirited, but sweet. He loved carrots and apples, and I would sneak him treats every day. His canter was smooth and fast, and he responded to the lightest touch of the reins. His withers wasn't too high, so he was comfortable to ride bareback. On the spring and fall weekends when I helped out, I could spend hours just grooming him, and talking to him. As I got older, I did ride other hoses. Margarita was a beautiful, tall bay with long legs who loved to run. Unfortunately, one time she slipped when we were just trotting, and she fell on me. She was fine, and I appeared to be at the time, but I ended up with knee surgery that winter (a kneecap out of alignment is not so good). Athena was a staff horse because she was a little wild, and had incerdible acceleration with tempermental "brakes" - whoever rode her had to be quite strong in order to rein her in. Just as I was about to be CIT (counsellor in training), and old enough to ride her, she was put down. She had developed cataracts in both eyes, and fell down an embankment. She wasn't hurt, but it obviously wasn't safe for her to be wandering around the fields, and not fair to her to keep her confined. I cried for days when I received the news. Amidst all the other horses I rode, Acorn was still there, and I would ride him when I got the chance. I remember planning to ride him on an evening bareback ride and S. stole him from me. When our group met his, I dismounted and made him switch (S. had just done it to make me mad - ah, the courtship rituals of youth!). In third year university, my parents moved back to London, and S. took me out to the Ranch one day. I was overwhelmed to see Acorn, to stroke his nose and to rub his favourite spot under his mane by his ears. I was I was 21, and he was 22. I thought that it would be the last time I would see him.

A few years ago, Circle R Ranch started an Alumni website, complete with pictures, lyrics to camp songs, and a password-protected Message Board and Story Board. It has been amazing to reconnect with people who were so much a part of my life. There have been a few Alumni events - a couple of mini-reunions, Christmas parties, and Alumni Campfires during camp season. Unfortunately, I have been unable to attend (the Ranch is a 6 hour drive from here). But last year, there was the reunion to end all reunions. It was Circle R's 40th year in operation, and they had a 40th reunion for all of the staff. It was over Labour Day weekend, and it was beyond fabulous. Describing the reunion would be a whole other post.


Except for Acorn. Seeing the corral full of horses was like so many other times in my life. The scene was familiar, but the players had changed. Beauford and Gambit were long gone, and Margarita was put down a couple of years ago. But my baby was still there. Old and grey, no longer ridden, he's living the high life now. He has the run of the Ranch, and at 38, his days are few. It was wonderful to see him, but bittersweet. I was sure I'd hear that he hadn't made it through the winter. I even had a dream where I got to see him again, and say goodbye. But so far, so good. If he is still around, I think I'll make a trip this fall, just to groom him and talk to him once again.