Giddy Up

Call me simple, but I really enjoy clichés about...keeping it simple. “It is what it is - as luck would have it - it’s all good - easy as pie - simple stupid - kick your feet up - life’s a beach”...you get the point.  So, when I realized that snowshoeing was not going to happen last winter, I scanned my repertoire and settled on “whatever will be will be” knowing that  something as equally thrilling would eventually turn up to First. And oh boy it did. It came with horns, a control panel operated by a nasty, angsty 20-something bleach blonde and a saddle made for slipping.  

While in Orillia coordinating the MS Walk, one of the committee members invited me to a bachelorette party in Barrie at The Ranch, claimed the largest country bar in ON. To myself I thought, Option #1: get a good, responsible rest for the 6am event start the following day, or Option #2, drink ridonculous amounts of girly cocktails and dosey doe with a bunch of cowfolk strangers til 3am. When I discovered the venue had a mechanical bull, the choice was obvious. 
  

Not many of my friends are married and in fact I don’t think I’ve even been to a hen party for someone I actually know (so perhaps another first?). When the wedding bells do start ringing for my crew though, I’m convinced I will never experience what I did on this night in Barrie. Bull Riding is likely a once in a lifetime thing for me, especially with the bum knee I now have as a result.  

A photo tells a thousand words - another great cliché. See below, and let the good times roll.