Some of my best memories are of Pony Club at Buckley’s in the ’70s. There weren’t a lot of us English riders in this ranching area- but the few of us who were rode together and had a blast. It was in the days when safety was less of an issue so the fact we are all still alive is kind of a miracle.

Seriously though, I have found the strength to get through some of the most difficult times of my life by pulling strength from those old Pony Club days. They also are filled not only with memories of terror and walking through fear, but of laughter and friendship and fun.

We had to get an assessment of the house done for probate and a lady who said she was familiar with the area came out to do it for us. As I was showing her the house she said she used to do Pony Club at Buckley’s which made us both stop and stare at each other. Because we had to have ridden together.

Turns out I rode with her younger sister. The first year (when we were about 5) she and I and one other girl slept in the grain bins at camp. My aunt had to take us in and bathe us and give us special food because she felt for us being so little out there. It still is one of my favorite memories.

I love how connected we are. She looked at an old photo of my sister on her Shetland and said oh Peanuts- I remember her. It’s amazing how many of my people know Peanuts from her previous owners. I mean this was like 40 years ago. Peanuts left an impression.

I had such a happy soul feeling – out tribe stretches through time

Here’s 9 year old me on the hill at Buckley’s at the D Rally. Good times.