CAMERANO (part XI): Thanks to the NY Post and the Horse with no name

LEO - YOUR HOROSCOPE FOR JULY 13, 2006:

"It is important that you make an effort to overcome your fears today, because if you don't you will be held back from doing something that could have been a lot of fun. The choice is simple: live up to your true potential or look back a few years from now and lament what might have been. You can make your dreams come true."

After reading my horoscope from the New York Post, I knew I had to go horseback riding even though I didn’t really want to.

I didn’t have a choice.

It’s not that I’m scared of horses. It’s not like I survived some terrible, traumatic fall off a bucking horse and broke my nose and the chances of me ever riding again were slim to non-existent.

The truth is, I’d never been on a horse.

But to say that I was “thrilled” to go horseback riding would be a bit of a stretch.

Actually, it would be a flat-out lie. But more than I hate sitting on wild, unpredictable animals, I hate not forcing myself to try something new. And so, on a miserably hot and humid Thursday afternoon, we set out for the farm to face my fears.

When we arrived at Il Corbezzolo, I was not entirely surprised by what I saw. There were a dozen or so horses roaming around a fenced-in pen. Horses the color of midnight, dirt, and yogurt gelato, and some with a perfect blend of all three.

Eric, the man who seemed to be in charge, walked toward me with sweat dripping down his face and a cigarette hanging out his mouth. With a thick leather strap, he pulled a magnificent looking white creature behind him. He pointed directly to me, and then to the horse.

With no words exchanged, I understood. This horse was mine.

Or I was the horse’s.

I stepped one foot into the stirrup and threw my body over the horse (which I was told had no name), hoping my weight would not crush him. He barely moved. I stroked his pasty white mane and made clicking noises near his writhing ears.

So far, I wasn’t freaking out. In fact, I felt calm as I sat perched on the horse, almost eager to break free from the enclosed pen and go up the mountain.

My horse seemed to sense that I trusted him and he obeyed nearly all of my commands via tugging and loosening the reins. The only times he veered off course were to munch on some green stalks along the side of the trail.

And even though Eric didn’t speak English, I felt safe and comfortable while he smoked cigarettes and chatted on his cell phone, leading the way through the tall stalks of grass and eventually up a steep, thorn-filled hill while the rest of us obediently followed.

When we first approached the hill, I became nervous. I had remained relatively calm and was even somewhat enjoying myself up until that point. My horse proved to be sweet natured and calm but I wasn’t sure if I could trust him with a mountain.

I was instructed to lean forward and allow the horse to plow through the rugged terrain. With each stride the horse made, I got more and more used to feeling like I was going to slide right off.

When we reached the top, the horse and I breathed in the fresh air. The view was breathtaking - the city on the hill, the bright sunlight on the green mountains and the pale blue sky.

The hard part was over. Now we both could relax.

Even though my fears almost prevented me from going, I’d encourage anyone to trudge through their own reservations.

If you don't you will be held back from doing something that could have been a lot of fun.

I don’t know whether to thank Eric, the sweet-natured cream-colored horse or the writers at the New York Post for making me go through with riding but I am definitely happy that I did.

- Ann Curran