Swimming with Horses

Fear, it wasn’t what I expected to feel as I sat on the bare back of a fifteen year old horse named Sage, who was taking me for a swim at Prosser Lake in Truckee, California.

I signed us up for a special trail ride at the Piping Rock Equestrian Center, inspired by a youTube video that my daughter showed me of large pigs swimming in the Bahamas.  Who knew this was even a thing that pigs could do? Sophie wanted to swim with the pigs, but since we only had a four day family vacation planned, I thought an aquatic adventure with horses in Tahoe might be fun.

After uneventfully traversing the brown dusty mountain trail for an hour, ducking to avoid occasional branches, we arrived at the remote, uninhabited lake. We took the saddles and blankets off the horses, and removed our jeans and shoes. Lani, our strapping trail guide with stunningly white legs, who by summer works as a wrangler, and by winter teaches skiing to kids at the Northstar resort, helped me onto Sage’s back. “What happens if I fall off,” I asked her.  “Just swim,” she said, “I’ll come in and get the horse.” 

I summoned my courage, and took the plunge, steering my horse straight into the water. Sage found his footing on the muddy bottom, then started moving towards the middle of the lake.  As the water got deeper, the horse just let go and started paddling, with me on his back, holding the reins in one hand, and grabbing strands of his black and white mane with my other hand.

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The cool refreshing water enveloped me as I glanced nervously over at Sophie, who was parallel to me, riding Roscoe, a dappled rust colored older horse, who like Sage, loved to swim.   “I’m scared,” I called to her, but Sophie and Roscoe seemed content and comfortable.  “I don’t know what I’m doing,” I said, “but I’m going to do what you’re doing.” I took a breath and went with the flow, following Sophie and Roscoe’s lead.

I knew that I had to trust Sage, after all, he had a name that commanded respect, and just relax into the moment. I rarely have the opportunity to do something completely new; often this involves relinquishing a certain control over my fate that is both humbling and exhilarating. Under a brilliant blue sky, surrounded by mountains blanketed with deep green pines, I melded into this large confident creature. “Sage is smiling,” Sophie announced.  “He’s actually smiling!” I smiled widely, too.

Lani, on a giant easily spooked horse named Pike, returned to shore after a number of unsuccessful attempts to get him to take a dip in the lake.  She waved to us, taking photos with my iPhone. 

About ten minutes into our swim, Apache, a younger horse, reared up and threw another rider in our group, a thirteen year old girl, off his back, into the water.  Apache bolted to shore and then took off at a gallop.  Meredith, another young but experienced equestrian exited the water, dismounted, then quickly saddled up her horse, and went after Apache.  

Sophie and I stayed in the water for another half an hour, submerged on the backs of our aquatic equines. The horses happily swam about; at one point, Roscoe went so far under that Sophie almost floated right off his back. 

“I had no idea this was even on my bucket list,” remarked Sophie, as the four of us left the magnificent mountain lake. 

We sat on the dry golden grass and drank some water, taking in the beauty of our surroundings.  Miraculously, the amazing Meredith caught Apache, and ponied the horse back to the group.  We saddled up and made our way back to the stables, Sage taking his sweet time on the trail.  He clearly preferred swimming to schlepping. Wise horse.

-- dedicated to the memory of horse person and person extraordinaire, Colm Costello.