Rocking Horse Ranch

Dear Dad,

Mom took us—G3, Kati, and me—on vacation to Rocking Horse Ranch Resort. She told me that when the two of  you were on that cruise in Patagoina—the one that killed you—you told her all the things you wanted to do with G3. The list was long because you loved your grandson and you wanted to make sure you gave him every experience possible. At the top of that list was horseback riding at Rocking Horse. With COVID not as deadly as it was the last two years, Mom wanted to honor one of your wishes. We had fun, but there were a few moments when I was overwhelmed with memories of when we were there together years ago. There were also times I found myself wondering how the whole trip would have been different if you had been there. The hole you left in our lives when you died is definitely still there.

Luckily, the week we went was a good one. Our last day was excruciatingly hot, but the other four days weren’t too bad. And we didn’t have any rain. I guess you were looking out for us, doing what you could to make the weather cooperate.

We arrived Monday in the early afternoon, and as soon as we checked in we headed for the stables to go for a ride. We were in time for the last one of the day, and since there weren’t too many people on the stand-by line, we got on horses. Mom tried, but her bad leg impeded her from getting on. She was able to get her foot in the stirrup, but she couldn’t get her other leg over the horse. I think she was disappointed. I know I was disappointed for her. It would have been fun if she could have ridden with us. Since it was G3’s first time on the horse, we went on the beginner ride. As you know, the horses on the beginner ride just walk. It’s a nice, easy, relaxing way to get acclimated to being on a horse. You will not be surprised to know that G3 found it boring. He is my son after all. The Ranch recommended several hours on the beginner ride before trying intermediate, where the horses walk and trot, but G3 had no patience to wait. The next morning, on our scheduled ride, he rode intermediate. He did great. By the end of the ride he was already posting which he learned simply by watching the wranglers. He’s good like that. He’s very observant and learns things quickly that way, which is one of the reasons he excels in Taekwondo. 

G3 rode twice a day—he scheduled ride plus one stand-by ride. Again, you will not at all be surprised to hear that I tried to go at least three times a day. (I would have gone more, but I didn’t want my family to think I didn’t want to spend any time with them. I made sure to break up the rides with other actives that I did with G3.) Of course, the first ride I went on solo, I tried out for the advanced ride. I used to ride advanced all the time with you, but that was more than thirty years ago. Over the years, I had ridden a few time while traveling abroad, but since G3 was born, I haven’t been on a horse. Needless to say, I was very rusty. But, my muscle memory did not let me down. I passed, but just barely. Still it was enough to make me happy. However, when I used to ride the advanced trails at Rocking Horse, you were usually riding behind me. Every time the horses stopped cantering, you always asked me if I was okay. If I enjoyed the ride. And yeah, I knew you weren’t there and I knew you’re dead, but after that first canter, a part of me still expected to hear your voice, and when I didn’t I started to cry. I know it sounds silly, but I haven’t missed you that much since you died. I really wanted you to be behind me, I wanted you to be able to talk to me. So while I really enjoyed the advanced ride—cantering is so much more enjoyable than trotting—I still had tears in my eyes by the time I dismounted.

While at the ranch, Mom shot a BB gun with us, she did some archery, and she played laser tag for the first time. I think she really enjoyed the laser tag. She smiled and laughed through most of the games—and we played several of them. Mom also played shuffleboard and reminisced about all the times she played with you at Jones Beach. We also played mini-golf but it wasn’t a terribly exciting course. Since Mom’s leg did bother her, she spent a good deal of time at the pool reading. I would bet she missed you as much by the pool as I missed you on the trail. How could we not spend our alone time thinking about you when the last time we were there we were with you?

It’s funny, I remember being there as a kid but what I remember most is the horseback riding. I guess that’s no surprise, I rode stand-by every time I could. Even as kid I wanted to ride as much as possible. Remember the time you took us to the ranch in the winter and after a series of rides my fingers were in such bad shape I couldn’t feel them. One of the workers ended up taking me into the kitchen to run my fingers under cold water until the numbness started to subside. Despite not remembering too much, while we were there and walking through the facilities—both outside and in the lodge—I had movie style flashbacks. Nothing long. Nothing involving too much detail. But sharp bursts of action or color. A quick glimpse of me in another time—playing ping-pong in the game room, sitting at dinner in the dinning hall, pausing by the fire, and playing paddleball. 

There are no paddleball courts there now. But I remembered very clearly you teaching me how to play paddleball, and the time line match up. I know I was about fifteen when you taught me to play and I know we were on vacation—somewhere. Yet, I had forgotten that the very first time we played it was at Rocking Horse. Since there was no court, I asked Mom what she remembered, and she had no recollection of us playing there. Still, I was certain of it. The longer we were there, the more walked around, the more vivid the memory became. So on the last day, I asked at the front desk if Rocking Horse ever had paddleball courts. The woman I asked didn’t know, but she went and found someone who did. And sure enough, thirty years ago, they did have them. I was happy to get back that memory of us doing something fun together.

The food was spectacular. Since it was an all inclusive place, they fed us constantly. We had a buffet for breakfast. But we could also order eggs any way we wanted them so I had a veggie omelet every morning. G3 filled his plate with sausage, bacon, pancakes, French toast, and cinnamon rolls. He loves breakfast as much as you did. I still can’t believe how much food he ate considering how skinny he is. We at lunch outside in the picnic pavilion. Everyone got there before me since I usually went out to ride at 11:30. When I got back Mom, G3, and Kati were finishing up. I always had a big salad—and was reminded of how much I love sunflower seeds—and sometimes a bit of pasta or a taco. Mom had a root beer float as dessert after lunch every afternoon. She scooped out vanilla ice cream from a cup and added the soda. Three o’clock was cocktail hour. They had (watered-down) complimentary drinks for guests over 21 along with snacks. I was never hungry, but that didn’t stop me from eating some cheese and veggies. Mom and G3 enjoyed snacking too. By the time dinner rolled around—and we ate a late dinner—none of us were ever ready to eat. But we ate anyway. The food was good. G3 and Kati loved the fact that they got steak or ribs every night. Mom had steak or lamb or fish. I only had fish and most nights it was good except for the shrimp scampi. No one makes it as good as Mom.

G3 said he doesn’t know what he enjoyed more—Disney or Rocking Horse. I think he enjoyed the freedom at Rocking Horse of being able to go off on his own. He also liked the “real vacation” aspect of it. It was a vacation where he did nothing but actives that he found to be fun. There were no hikes or historical sites or having to break camp every other day. And he got to eat real food, not ramen or sandwiches or an over abundance of pizza. He also got to make his own schedule. He could do what he wanted every moment of the day. 

Our last morning, G3 was super nervous. He wanted to ride advanced before going home. The wranglers recommended that guests have at least 20 hours of practice on the intermediate ride before trying out for advanced. G3 decided he didn’t need that much. He had tried out the previous day and didn’t pass. He was terribly disappointed. But he asked one of the wranglers who had evaluated his ride what he did wrong and she was very good about explaining what he needed to do differently. His biggest problem was that his horse absolutely refused to canter. Advanced riders are expected to get stubborn horses to obey. He also needed to hold his feet differently. G3 listened carefully to what she told him and when he got on the horse he did everything exactly they way she told him too. As he rode passed the same two wranglers on his evaluation, they cheered for him and told him he got it this time around. He was ecstatic. I think I might have been happier. Since he passed and enjoyed cantering so much more than trotting—who wouldn’t—we went for a second advance ride together. We were the only two advanced riders so it was us and the wranglers and it took me back—again—to being on the trail with you. And I couldn’t help but wonder, if you were alive, would you have ridden the advance trail or would you have felt that you were too old. I suspect, if G3 asked you to ride advanced with him, there were have been no question. You would have done your best to go with him. 

We had been hoping for a third ride, but after lunch it was too hot for the horses to either trot or canter. The afternoon rides were only going to walk. So we went mountain tubing, we played laser tag, and we went into the pool instead. Oh, and G3 and I also rode the banana boat. He got a good laugh when I fell off. I’m still not sure how that happened. One minute I was holding on and the next I was bobbing in the lake.

So that G3 could enjoy every possible moment and so that we didn’t have to leave before rush hour, Mom paid for us to stay to have one final meal at the ranch. It’s was Kati and G3’s favorite meal—short ribs—but G3 was too sad to eat much of it. He has never dealt well when fun things come to an end. After dinner, Mom bought G3 a souvenir sweat shirt. He picked it out because it reminded him of something you would have liked.  Then the two of them played a game of air hockey down in the game room to stall our departure a few more minutes. 

Since it was late by the time we got back to Glendale, we spent the night at Mom’s. In the morning, G3 was grumpy because his vacation had come to end and he didn’t want to go home. But the summer has just begun, and he still has several more adventures to look forward to between now and September.

I miss you!