The story of my broken wrist
There I was dangling over a steep slope, one hand holding onto reins, the other trying to find something to grab. I found nothing but empty air. Would I die? It was such a far down drop. Would I see my family again?
Finally, the wrangler began moving my horse away from the cliff. My feet finally found nice, solid ground. Whew! Now, how was I going to get back to the ranch?
It started on a simple trip to Burnsville, North Carolina. My Dad, my little sister, and I were spending a week at the Clear Creek Ranch, riding horses and enjoying the beautiful mountains.
The routine there was a one ho