A bunch of cowboys
One day during my visit to the Dominican Republic, a group of us decided to take a day to explore a cave in a national park perhaps three hours drive from where we were staying. Upon arrival we were all fitted out with caving gear and then given a horse to take us to our destination. We started out at walking pace, but then someone charged ahead on their horse and the rest followed suit. I remember looking back and seeing the rest of the crowd galloping around the corner in unison like something out of a John Wayne movie. My horse was pretty temperamental, preferring to take me through every bush and thicket on the path rather than stick to the road, but that’s because it was probably afraid of Balarka’s horse, which was trying to eat it. I’m not joking. Balarka’s horse would pull up alongside mine, turn its head towards my horse and open its mouth as wide as possible, wait for five seconds as if to ensure the largest possible bite, and then try to take a big chomp out of my horse. It’s a miracle I got the poor horse home in one piece.
