Driving Lessons (Paris/Éomer chat)
Nov. 15th, 2005 09:27 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
horseboykarlParis:I’ve been looking forward to riding again, and was pleased when Karl rang to arrange this. Now the cast is off, I can give you a driving lesson too before we take Smokey Joe out to Dave’s and I think you’ll pick it up easily.
We start off in Karl’s yard so you can get the hang of the basics.
“Okay, ease the clutch out and feel the engine bite.” It does, and we start to move forwards. “A little more gas …” The truck moves faster. “And put her into second gear.” We drive round Karl’s yard another couple of times then I get you to bring her to a halt.
“See? Very similar to a bike, you just have to get used to co-ordinating the gear changes and acceleration in a different way. Riding round on the bike’s given you an advantage most people don’t have when they learn to drive a car or a truck. You already know how to handle a vehicle, and you’ve already got road sense. You feel okay about taking her out onto the road?” The roads around Karl’s place are quiet, and there wasn’t much traffic around on my way over, so I think we’ll be fine.
Éomer: Gradually the actions of moving my feet on the pedals in time with the shift and the steering wheel become more natural. The truck is large, but I become accustomed to positioning it on the proper place on the road. This is much more complicated than riding the bike and there is not the same feeling of connection between the driver and the truck as there is when one rides a bike. I do not know
if I will ever prefer this to the bike, but the practical benefit of knowing this skill is inescapable.
Finally, when I feel confident enough, we return to Karl's yard to attach the trailer and get Smokey Joe. We are going to your mate's house today, to borrow his horse and ride on his beach. I am eager to see the ocean again.
"I think I am ready to do this. You are an excellent instructor.”
Paris: “Thanks! You’re an excellent student, and I think you’ll be able to handle the trailer. We’ll take the back roads round Wellie. It’ll take longer, but you’ll be able get the experience without having to worry about the city traffic.”
Under your guidance, I lead Smokey Joe into the trailer, and make sure he’s ready to travel, and then we set off. I’m looking forward to our ride today. I’ve been spending time with Laurelea this week, getting to know her and getting her used to my company. I know she’s met Smokey Joe before, so I think she’ll be fine.
You get used to the different way the truck handles with the trailer on quite quickly, and it’s a smooth journey. We pull onto the track to the cabin, and drive slowly past it down to the stables. Dave’s car is missing from it’s usual parking spot otherwise I would have suggested we stop to say hi, but maybe he’ll be around later. As we pull to a halt outside the stables, Laurelea sticks her head out over the carved door and whickers as we climb out of the truck.
Éomer: The mare has a dainty head and I smile as she greets us. I rub her nose before going into her stall to look her over.
"You are a pretty lass, yes." She is well formed, small and delicate, and I run my hand over her withers. "Smokey Joe would be happy to cover you, I think, if he were not altered."
Like any female, she responds to the flattery and I imagine I see her eyes twinkling at me. She is more gentle than the gelding and smaller as well, so she is a good horse for a beginner. But you have become used to Smokey Joe, so I decide to let you chose.
"Do you want to try the mare? She is very biddable, but you may feel more comfortable on Smokey Joe. It is your choice," I say, handing you the curry comb.
Paris: Taking the comb from you, I think for a moment.
”Laurelea is here for me to ride when I want to, so it might be sensible to get used to her, I suppose. I’ve enjoyed riding Smokey Joe, and I do feel comfortable with him, but he’s not mine, and I can’t impose on Karl every time I feel like riding. Maybe it’s best not to get too attached to him.”
I can’t help sounding wistful, cause it would be so easy to do that. He’s a lovely animal and I think he’s more my kind of horse than Laurelea. You nod and go to get him out of the trailer while I start combing Laurelea, remembering how you taught me to do it last time.
Éomer: I wonder at your tone of voice when you speak of Smokey Joe and then smile to myself. I can tell from the signs that you are slowly falling in love with horses and I know you will soon want one of your own. If I have any say in the selection of the horse when you eventually get one, I will encourage my cousin to find a gelding with
a bit of spark in him for you. I do not think a stallion would be a good idea, because you are still a beginner and because horses are not your principal occupation.
We tack up both horses, who seem to know each other and are as ready for a ride as we are.
"You must lead today, my friend. I am unfamiliar with this place." I smell the tang in the air that I remember so I know the sea must be close, but I do not know the way. It will be odd that Théo is not with me when I find the ocean again.
Paris: We mount up and I turn Laurelea towards the path down to the beach, my confidence high. Following the path, we have to duck down under a low branch just before it opens up onto the sand.
The soft dry sand shifts under Laurelea’s hooves, but she’s used to it, and we ride across it slowly onto the long stretch of firmer ground left behind by the retreating tide. There’s a fresh breeze blowing off the sea, and I’m getting used to the feel of a horse, looking forward to feeling the wind in my hair again as I did on our short ride through the forest a few months back, but waiting to take my lead from you.
I think about how Dave and I could go riding together sometime, if we had another horse, and wonder whether the wistful look in your eye as you look out over the water is there because you’re thinking of Théo.
Éomer: This wet sand is something I have never before encountered while riding a horse. But Smokey Joe does not seem to be bothered by it and he prances a little, sending the waves surging around his fetlocks. The mare seems familiar with it too and I relax my watch a little.
I stare out at the waves, remembering how it was with Théo, how we dropped all of our cares and acted like children for a time.
"You seem very relaxed now. This is not so hard, is it?" You are moving easily with the horse, confident in your abilities and no longer afraid of these large beasts.
Paris: I’ve got a happy smile on my face when I turn to look at you. “No, it’s not hard. In fact it feels kinda right.” Laurelea’s coat is warm under my hand as I move it on her neck, which she seems to like. “It feels like the next logical step up from riding a bike, not that I’m planning on abandoning Leelu, but I understand a whole lot more now what you said about riding being a partnership, and I like it.”
A breeze stirs through my hair, and my eyes spark as my smile turns into a grin. “Sooo … do we get to go faster now?”
Éomer: The wind whips my hair around my face momentarily and I am reminded of Théo's suggestion that I braid it. Everything reminds me of him today, and missing him almost hurts.
I push my sadness away. "If you wish to go faster, you may. Do you remember how to avoid injuring your groin?"
You nod and push the mare into an easy canter. I laugh, for the horses seem to be enjoying this frolic on the beach and the last of my melancholy disappears.
Paris: The wind whips through my hair as Laurelea’s hooves pound on the sand. This wide strip of sand goes on for quite a way and she seems to be enjoying this as much as I am, running free and easy. I think Dave brings her down here a lot, and I can see why. Smokey Joe catches up to us easily, being the stronger, larger horse, and you grin at me as you draw level.
The whole experience comes together at once, the speed, the wind against my face, the power of the living creature I’m riding and I let out a whoop of pure pleasure as I spur her on to keep up with you and Smokey Joe. And part of me suddenly envies you for having had this your whole life.
Éomer: I let you pull ahead of me, watching how you are with the horse, and I see that even though Laurelea is a stranger to you, you are riding her with ease, relaxed and happy.
Smokey Joe stretches his legs and we race together, the wind whipping both hair and manes. I ease us back, slowing down, but the horses seem eager still, their hooves dancing through the sunlit water.
"You handle her like you have been riding her for months. I think I have taught you all that I can." Or all that you will need. I am glad, for your sake, that you do not need other lessons. Lessons in things like how to use a sword from horseback without cutting your own horse or how to aim a bow while your foundation is moving. Your eyes are so clear of worry, compared to his, but it helps my heart to know that you live in peace.
"The only thing left for you to do is find your own horse, one that you can partner with and then . . . practice."
Paris: “Thanks for this, Éomer. I couldn’t have asked for a better teacher.” I smile over at you as Laurelea prances in the shallow water eager to be moving. So I urge her forward again, and you and Smokey Joe join us, racing down the sand. As we move, I think about what you said, find your own horse, one that you can partner with, and I think that’s definitely something I need to do, and sooner than I first imagined. But for now, Laurelea is a fine horse, and I can’t think of a better way to spend this sunny afternoon.
We start off in Karl’s yard so you can get the hang of the basics.
“Okay, ease the clutch out and feel the engine bite.” It does, and we start to move forwards. “A little more gas …” The truck moves faster. “And put her into second gear.” We drive round Karl’s yard another couple of times then I get you to bring her to a halt.
“See? Very similar to a bike, you just have to get used to co-ordinating the gear changes and acceleration in a different way. Riding round on the bike’s given you an advantage most people don’t have when they learn to drive a car or a truck. You already know how to handle a vehicle, and you’ve already got road sense. You feel okay about taking her out onto the road?” The roads around Karl’s place are quiet, and there wasn’t much traffic around on my way over, so I think we’ll be fine.
Éomer: Gradually the actions of moving my feet on the pedals in time with the shift and the steering wheel become more natural. The truck is large, but I become accustomed to positioning it on the proper place on the road. This is much more complicated than riding the bike and there is not the same feeling of connection between the driver and the truck as there is when one rides a bike. I do not know
if I will ever prefer this to the bike, but the practical benefit of knowing this skill is inescapable.
Finally, when I feel confident enough, we return to Karl's yard to attach the trailer and get Smokey Joe. We are going to your mate's house today, to borrow his horse and ride on his beach. I am eager to see the ocean again.
"I think I am ready to do this. You are an excellent instructor.”
Paris: “Thanks! You’re an excellent student, and I think you’ll be able to handle the trailer. We’ll take the back roads round Wellie. It’ll take longer, but you’ll be able get the experience without having to worry about the city traffic.”
Under your guidance, I lead Smokey Joe into the trailer, and make sure he’s ready to travel, and then we set off. I’m looking forward to our ride today. I’ve been spending time with Laurelea this week, getting to know her and getting her used to my company. I know she’s met Smokey Joe before, so I think she’ll be fine.
You get used to the different way the truck handles with the trailer on quite quickly, and it’s a smooth journey. We pull onto the track to the cabin, and drive slowly past it down to the stables. Dave’s car is missing from it’s usual parking spot otherwise I would have suggested we stop to say hi, but maybe he’ll be around later. As we pull to a halt outside the stables, Laurelea sticks her head out over the carved door and whickers as we climb out of the truck.
Éomer: The mare has a dainty head and I smile as she greets us. I rub her nose before going into her stall to look her over.
"You are a pretty lass, yes." She is well formed, small and delicate, and I run my hand over her withers. "Smokey Joe would be happy to cover you, I think, if he were not altered."
Like any female, she responds to the flattery and I imagine I see her eyes twinkling at me. She is more gentle than the gelding and smaller as well, so she is a good horse for a beginner. But you have become used to Smokey Joe, so I decide to let you chose.
"Do you want to try the mare? She is very biddable, but you may feel more comfortable on Smokey Joe. It is your choice," I say, handing you the curry comb.
Paris: Taking the comb from you, I think for a moment.
”Laurelea is here for me to ride when I want to, so it might be sensible to get used to her, I suppose. I’ve enjoyed riding Smokey Joe, and I do feel comfortable with him, but he’s not mine, and I can’t impose on Karl every time I feel like riding. Maybe it’s best not to get too attached to him.”
I can’t help sounding wistful, cause it would be so easy to do that. He’s a lovely animal and I think he’s more my kind of horse than Laurelea. You nod and go to get him out of the trailer while I start combing Laurelea, remembering how you taught me to do it last time.
Éomer: I wonder at your tone of voice when you speak of Smokey Joe and then smile to myself. I can tell from the signs that you are slowly falling in love with horses and I know you will soon want one of your own. If I have any say in the selection of the horse when you eventually get one, I will encourage my cousin to find a gelding with
a bit of spark in him for you. I do not think a stallion would be a good idea, because you are still a beginner and because horses are not your principal occupation.
We tack up both horses, who seem to know each other and are as ready for a ride as we are.
"You must lead today, my friend. I am unfamiliar with this place." I smell the tang in the air that I remember so I know the sea must be close, but I do not know the way. It will be odd that Théo is not with me when I find the ocean again.
Paris: We mount up and I turn Laurelea towards the path down to the beach, my confidence high. Following the path, we have to duck down under a low branch just before it opens up onto the sand.
The soft dry sand shifts under Laurelea’s hooves, but she’s used to it, and we ride across it slowly onto the long stretch of firmer ground left behind by the retreating tide. There’s a fresh breeze blowing off the sea, and I’m getting used to the feel of a horse, looking forward to feeling the wind in my hair again as I did on our short ride through the forest a few months back, but waiting to take my lead from you.
I think about how Dave and I could go riding together sometime, if we had another horse, and wonder whether the wistful look in your eye as you look out over the water is there because you’re thinking of Théo.
Éomer: This wet sand is something I have never before encountered while riding a horse. But Smokey Joe does not seem to be bothered by it and he prances a little, sending the waves surging around his fetlocks. The mare seems familiar with it too and I relax my watch a little.
I stare out at the waves, remembering how it was with Théo, how we dropped all of our cares and acted like children for a time.
"You seem very relaxed now. This is not so hard, is it?" You are moving easily with the horse, confident in your abilities and no longer afraid of these large beasts.
Paris: I’ve got a happy smile on my face when I turn to look at you. “No, it’s not hard. In fact it feels kinda right.” Laurelea’s coat is warm under my hand as I move it on her neck, which she seems to like. “It feels like the next logical step up from riding a bike, not that I’m planning on abandoning Leelu, but I understand a whole lot more now what you said about riding being a partnership, and I like it.”
A breeze stirs through my hair, and my eyes spark as my smile turns into a grin. “Sooo … do we get to go faster now?”
Éomer: The wind whips my hair around my face momentarily and I am reminded of Théo's suggestion that I braid it. Everything reminds me of him today, and missing him almost hurts.
I push my sadness away. "If you wish to go faster, you may. Do you remember how to avoid injuring your groin?"
You nod and push the mare into an easy canter. I laugh, for the horses seem to be enjoying this frolic on the beach and the last of my melancholy disappears.
Paris: The wind whips through my hair as Laurelea’s hooves pound on the sand. This wide strip of sand goes on for quite a way and she seems to be enjoying this as much as I am, running free and easy. I think Dave brings her down here a lot, and I can see why. Smokey Joe catches up to us easily, being the stronger, larger horse, and you grin at me as you draw level.
The whole experience comes together at once, the speed, the wind against my face, the power of the living creature I’m riding and I let out a whoop of pure pleasure as I spur her on to keep up with you and Smokey Joe. And part of me suddenly envies you for having had this your whole life.
Éomer: I let you pull ahead of me, watching how you are with the horse, and I see that even though Laurelea is a stranger to you, you are riding her with ease, relaxed and happy.
Smokey Joe stretches his legs and we race together, the wind whipping both hair and manes. I ease us back, slowing down, but the horses seem eager still, their hooves dancing through the sunlit water.
"You handle her like you have been riding her for months. I think I have taught you all that I can." Or all that you will need. I am glad, for your sake, that you do not need other lessons. Lessons in things like how to use a sword from horseback without cutting your own horse or how to aim a bow while your foundation is moving. Your eyes are so clear of worry, compared to his, but it helps my heart to know that you live in peace.
"The only thing left for you to do is find your own horse, one that you can partner with and then . . . practice."
Paris: “Thanks for this, Éomer. I couldn’t have asked for a better teacher.” I smile over at you as Laurelea prances in the shallow water eager to be moving. So I urge her forward again, and you and Smokey Joe join us, racing down the sand. As we move, I think about what you said, find your own horse, one that you can partner with, and I think that’s definitely something I need to do, and sooner than I first imagined. But for now, Laurelea is a fine horse, and I can’t think of a better way to spend this sunny afternoon.
