I like horses.
Note the lack of the word “love” in that sentence.
Yeah, I get that, noble majestic creatures and all that jazz.
Bottom line, they are huge, shit in piles and have monster sized penis’s that sometime show up in illegal porn.
However, alcohol is involved, So I am game.
Groupons are both good and bad for you.
Good because it gets you out and into activities you wouldn’t normally.
And bad because it gets you out and into activities that you wouldn’t normally.
I fear change like the villagers in Frankenstein, nothing good can come from it.
But here is the pitch:
Get on a horse and ride to two separate wine tastings.
Massive animals and alcohol, I’m in.
Temecula is in Southern Calfornia, out in wine country.
Not Napa, but a hell of a lot prettier than I expected.
Compared to the cheap gypsy horseback outfits that I have rented a fleabitten glue factory candidate from in the past, this outfit is higher end.
And since they are associated with a massive winery, you would expect that.
It will be a guided group, they evidently don’t want random strangers wandering thru the vineyards on the backs of large expensive beasts.
Its a formula for mayhem that few situations can equal.
The group is a little iffy fust from the looks of it.
There are two German Tourists that speak no English at all, and, If I am reading the signs right, the wife is absolutely terrified of the idea of being on or around horses.
To be cruel for a second, I can imagine her husband’s horror at being on or around his chosen frau.
The next 6 people are fairly generic, with the exception of Tamra.
Tamra is that always slightly drunk friend of your wife’s/girlfriend’s that is too loud and has the REALLY annoying habit of being startled by everything to the point that she emits a shriek about every 30 seconds.
Normally, I block that out, but continual shrieking startles horses and makes for a tense ride.
I am writing this 2 solid days later and my balls are just starting to talk to me again.
My riding posture is not the best, so the occasional trot is kind of like jumping up and down on your nut sack for fun.
Once again, only because alcohol is involved. (At least its consistent.)
Riding thru the vineyards is actually a hell of a lot more beautiful than I expected.
The horse, Izzy, and I have come to an understanding.
If she won’t stop in the middle of a light trot and fling herself sideways to eat vines, I will let her graze whenever we stop to wait for the German couple.
The German wife is not bonding with her horse.
The look on her face is a combination of terror and a desperate need to take a shit.
Not a pretty look for a late 50’s house Frau from the Fatherland.
That and the fact that her horse is reluctant to be out, it keeps turning back.
On about the third stop to retrieve Helga, a horsefly flew too close to Tamra and she shrieked.
Two horses went left, one right and the lead horse my girlfriend was on shot straight ahead.
Tamra was bottom feeding in the popularity department.
Her husband/boyfriend/unlucky bastard she was with was even getting tired of it.
“Tamra, jeezes!” It kind of became his mantra.
I began wishing for her to have a Christopher Reeves-type of accident.
The ride ended with no one dead.
And this was when my right eye started to swell shut.
Horsehair, ragweed, or bitten by something unknown, my eye looked like I lost the fight, badly.
I spent a quick half hour in the bathroom, flushing with cool water, which kind of helped.
On to the wine tasting.
I have no palette for wine and tend to prefer sweet dessert wines.
But high end desert wines are incredible.
In the end, in a shocker, my favorite was an almond infused champagne.
Not a big champagne fan, but this was exceptional.
Add to this about 5 hours total of wandering thru downtown Temecula, which is a lot of restaurants, bars, and really cool curio shops.
I can pick thru shit in these shops for days.
Add to that a Starbucks right at the head of main street and you had me at hello.
I love Temecula, although due to the absolute shit weather 98% of the time (Heat and sheet lightening) I could never live there.
All in all, a pretty awesome weekend for something mostly unplanned.
Serendipity and I are old friends.