The "fun trail rides" they featured were less than thrilling, and I had no choice but to scheme a rebellious escape.
My guide, who must have underestimated my strong will, let go of the reins with which the horse was controlled.
So there I sat on that gleaming horse, a burning desire to run free with it boiling in my veins.
The guide started talking to someone else, distracted. Here was my chance! I took off on that auburn stallion, bursting at full speed over the short distance of the camp. The wind blew my hair across my face, the thrill of the flight sending my heart racing. The horse's flawless steps thudded against the grass as we flew past my camper and past my shrieking mother. In that moment, I was free.