"I call you Far Rider, not because of your great races and your fine pony, but because you are one who rides far from himself, and wishes not to look home."
~Chief Eagle Horn, Hidalgo
Last night, after going out for a fine meal of fish tacos, Ben and I returned home and he picked Hidalgo for us to watch. Having seen it before, and with all the nostalgic rumblings racing through my braincase, I viewed it from a slightly different angle. I watched it from the vantage point of the idea that the journey is the thing. Some things in this life we can't control - winds of change will come and go, our best intentions are championed or foiled, the sun will blaze and night will fall.
We don't have a whole lot of control over the ride. Not really, not so much. Our job is to hang on to the horse, show some care, and try to arrive (with any luck if we've lived it well) somewhat disheveled, dusty, a bit bruised, and totally spent, but... better for it. We can try to urge the horse, we can cajole and even curse, we can try to speed it along or even beg for rest. Ultimately that pony's gonna do what it wants to do. It is a wild mustang after all. So, sometimes it's best to just grab the reins with all we've got and whisper, "Ok, brother. Let 'er buck..." Then hang on and enjoy the ride.
Preston Webb: I didn't join this race to finish in second place!
Frank T. Hopkins: Why did you then?
Let 'er buck...