A broken bridle, miles from home and heavy equipment upgrading our rood. A comedy of errors or a litany of disasters. Suppose it depends upon the outcome and one's point of view. As I am in one piece typing this I choose the comedy of errors.

We began well enough. Decided to ride up the mountain and then circle it halfway up on a track I haven't been on since last winter. Balthazar was forward and keen yet listening well, after all we were riding in our makeshift bitless bridle. All was going well, even passing a dump truck towing a 'dog' without incident until we were miles from home and deep in the eucalypt and brigalow bush. Balthazar, who had been travelling well and without incident suddenly lurched and then seemed to go lame on his offside hind. The easy boot on that hoof had twisted 90 degrees. While I was trying to take it off Balthazar took a step forward. I'd looped the reins over his neck but he'd dropped his head, the reins slid forward and his hoof came down on the left one. It all seemed to happen in slow motion. Of course he raised his head, felt the pressure, of course he jerked and of course the bridle broke in two places and the rein in one.

So I was standing there holding bridle pieces and an easy boot. After some experimenting I managed to tie the throatlash to a cheekpiece. No browband, no throatlash so a good shake would've thrown the whole thing off. Tied the reins together and off we went.

He was a delight. Even though we were heading home he didn't pull, didn't jig jog (he wanted to but at a word from me he desisted) and he didn't shake his head. The blasted boot had to be fixed twice more. The third time I just took it off. I'm going to get another pair of easy boots in a smaller size so that I have boots to fit before and after he's trimmed.