Restoration Wellness, LLC

A rebellious horse, a first-time rider, homemade cookies, and a whole lot of unexpected joy.

There’s something sacred about being in the mountains—like the trees and wildflowers know ancient secrets they whisper to anyone still enough to hear. But on this day, I wasn’t exactly still. I was in the sideways saddle, wrangling joy, navigating muscle weakness, and hanging on for dear life to both the reins and the moment on a sideways saddle.

I was with my kids, a wildly independent horse named Bogart, and that quiet voice inside me that says, even if it costs you a flare, these memories are worth it.

Meet Bogart

Bogart was a whole mood—a buggy horse with more personality than training miles under saddle, and I was apparently just a decorative fly on his back for most of the morning. He treated our ride more like a scenic buffet, snacking on mountain weeds and taking unapproved detours through ditches like it was part of the itinerary and generally reminded me that I wasn’t the boss of much.

And just to keep things interesting? The saddle wasn’t even on straight. Yup. Sideways.
So, there I was riding crooked through ditches, dodging wildflowers, and hanging on while Bogart sampled every edible plant in Idaho.

At one point, I’m pretty sure he thought he was taking me for a walk. And you know what? I let him. Because somewhere between his ditch detours and scenic salad stops, in all his rebellion, I started to laugh. I realized this was not about control. And somewhere in that laughter, I found presence. Not control.

It was chaotic. It was hilarious. It was perfect.

The Real Ride Was the Family Time

My children were with me, soaking in the same mountain air with fresh, curious eyes. Watching them grow up sometimes feels like trying to catch fireflies—blink, and they’re older. But this day? This day slowed the clock.

My youngest was on her first real horseback ride, and the pride I saw in her eyes made my heart ache—in the best way. She looked brave. She looked free. She looked like the version of herself that doesn’t second guess who she is. And watching that unfold? That’s the kind of magic I would gladly trade comfort for.

My older kids were pointing out wildflowers, cracking jokes about Bogart’s off-roading preferences, and soaking in the mountain air like it was medicine. It was one of those rare days where time slowed, and I got to see their souls—right there between the saddle and the sky.

Dog Piles & Cookie Stops

And let’s not forget the four-legged dopamine dispenser Labrador dog piles. Because what’s a family trail ride without being lovingly smothered by a dog with the emotional awareness of a therapy guru and the energy of a toddler on espresso?

We wrapped up our ride with a stop in Horseshoe Bend for homemade cookies at Ray’s Corner Market. That sweet, crumbly goodness felt like a reward—though to be fair, I think Bogart earned it more than I did.

The Takeaway? Let the Horse Lead Sometimes.

I live with Lyme/MS. Muscle weakness is part of my daily vocabulary. Some days, just getting through the routine is a full-body negotiation. I can walk 5 out of 7 days, so I will take this as a win.

Yes, I was exhausted. Yes, I’ll probably feel it for days. But this—watching my kids grow before my eyes, laughing with them on a crooked saddle, making magic in the dust of the mountains—this is what I choose. Over and over again.

I’m not waiting for “better timing” or “more strength.” I’m living it now, sideways saddle and all.

Life doesn’t always stick to the trail. I’d rather have sore muscles from a day lived fully than comfort bought at the cost of memories not made.

Life doesn’t always stick to the trail. It detours. Kids grow up. Horses make questionable navigational choices. Life gets muddy. And sometimes the best memories are the ones you didn’t plan for. It is the ones that found you when you were too busy trying to steer. But if you let go of the script and show up anyway tired legs, messy heart and all, you will find serendipity in the side trails.

Bogart taught me that. Or maybe he just yanked me into the ditch and grace filled in the meaning later. Either way, I’m thankful for it.

Life’s trails are rarely straight, and sometimes your saddle isn’t either. But when you show up anyway—sore, crooked, laughing—you find that detours carry the sweetest memories.

So, here’s to riding sideways.
To holding on with everything you’ve got.
To saying yes to life, even when it is messy, inconvenient and full of weeds.

Here’s to sideways saddles, side trails, and serendipity.

And yes… always to cookies.

Want more honest reflections, wellness wisdom, and real-life encouragement?
👉 Subscribe to my blog and come along for the ride.