One Particular August Night...

In the 1990s, Sambora lived at Miran Farm in Aldie, Virginia, a large boarding barn with more team ropers than English riders. We all got on though, with a mutual respect and recognition of riding skills and abilities but not without a healthy dose of good-natured teasing. The boys had roping practice every Wednesday night like clockwork. We girls would school our eventing ponies on the flat or over fences, then sit on them and watch the boys and their roping.

One Wednesday evening in August, Sammy and I were tacking up to enjoy some time together. I think it was rather early as there weren't many people at the barn, so Sam and I soaked up being together. As I was adjusting the saddle, I heard a deep voice say, "Come on girl. Let's go get cows."

Peeking around Sammy, I saw Ron, one of the ropers, on horseback just beyond the barn door, swinging a loop. Tickled to be asked, I undid the crossties, led Sammy out of the barn, and climbed up in the saddle. It was a typical sight at Fareed's - one horse rigged in full Western and another tacked English, walking companionably toward an adventure. It was a sparkling evening - no humidity, soft sunshine, vivid sapphire and shimmering emerald above and below us respectively, balmy temps. In short, it was a perfect late summer evening in Virginia.

Ron and I found the cows, gathered them up, and started pushing them toward the front of the large pasture, then across to the arena. We cantered across the gentle, open ground, the smooth summer air washing over and around us. I looked over and saw Ron riding effortlessly - without reins, gliding as if he and his horse were in fact a centaur, swinging his rope. Sammy was loving the canter stretch, reaching out and covering ground with as much joy as I was experiencing, feeling her reach and cover ground.

It was one of those occurrences in your life when everything crystallises, and you realise you are wholly in that very moment, crushingly alive and sublimely confident you are one with the entire universe. I knew this in the moment, and I know it still. I can still feel Sammy moving, the velvet of the air, the pure joy of two people of totally different disciplines simply enjoying being out with their horses in an easy camaraderie.

When life gets contorted and convoluted, as it certainly does, I slip back to this singular August evening. Sammy and I together. Ron ridin' and ropin' without a care. And all gets right with my world...

Sammy and I, goofing off in the round pen at Fareed's...