Straight from The Horse’s Mouth

Laura St. John I've been called a lot of things and the ones that fit best are Lucky and Blessed. Last week I lived up to my nicknames again, here's what happened:

Tuesday evening I decided to run my dogs before the big cold front arrived. Wearing jeans and two sweaters, topped with heavy carhart overalls and jacket, I was toasty warm in the clear 28 degree air. I took our 4-wheeler to the trails where I've run for 2 1/2 years.

After crossing my dad's bridge over the Keechi Creek, I was on a trail flanked by wild oats. I followed it to a clearing about a mile from the house. This is typically the first stop to let Jack and Jenny catch their breath. After a few minutes I reversed to make a two point turn toward the trail. It was pitch dark in the woods, except for the dim headlights. All I could see were trees and oats. I made several corrections, hoping I could find my way out. In just a few minutes I was not able to find the trail or the clearing.

Looking up there was only the leafless canopy of oaks, a few stars and no moon. In the distance I could barely make out the security house light through the forest. I drove on, dodging trees and sloughs, hoping I was traveling parallel to the creek. My goal was the bridge to familiar territory.

Suddenly there were no oats in my headlights, no ground, just air. The 4-wheeler tipped and rolled down a ten foot drop into the creek. I jumped to avoid landing under the machine. Luckily (and I say that with all seriousness) the area was clear of debris. But it was a wet landing; I found myself soaked to the chin. I climbed the bank and stumbled about trying to find my way in the dark.

Deciding I was not going to get out the way I came I waded across the creek again toward the speck of security light. Though I'm not afraid of the dark, the thought crossed my mind that I hoped my dogs, who never left my side, didn't jump any wild hogs. Finally, I was able to trudge home in my oversized and water logged overalls. Using the tractor the next day, Glenn was able to recover the ATV and get it running again.

Looking back, it was a frightening experience, more so for my family than for me. They immediately grasped how close I came to disaster. Besides my over worked guardian angels, my ability to remain calm and gymnastic dismounting skills saved me from an untimely demise. We need reminders every now and then of how precious Life is. It is, but I think I've had enough reminders for a while.

Life is getting back to normal. I took the dogs for a run this morning. And now I have new nicknames; Crash and Soggy Bottom Girl.

SCHEDULING NOTE: We are having Open Mic Night this Friday at THM. Come early to get a good seat. Music starts around 6:00pm. Click www.thehorsesmouth. squarespace.com or call 903- 322-2180 for more details.