Ireland - Day 6 - The Great Escape

How did it come to this? For six years, he had been caught in this equine gulag. Through the blinders he gazed around this old, familiar, horrible place. There was a stone bridge that brought the day's load lumbering up from the lake. Maybe today would be a good day. Maybe today a couple of those small ones with the black hair and the cameras.

Around him, also hitched and ready to go, were two others. Klaus, the young steed, brimming with the power of youth. And the imbecile, Sally. That vacant, slack-jawed look made him want to kick her teeth out. Calm, Jessie, calm. Come out of it now . . . .

The trip out hadn't been so bad. Only two plus the driver. Now, he awaited his fate as the drivers talked nonsense about local politics.

Then, across the bridge, came the lumbering behemoths. The drivers lined up the him up across from Klaus and the imbecile so he could not see what was coming.

A lot more chatter from the loads than normal, then one, two, three, FOUR?, FIVE?!?!!? FIVE persons to pull? Surely, driver would not put four full ones in with him. He glanced over. Klaus had two plus the driver. Sally the slackjaw had two as well, with her thin little driver.

Why did he have five? The oldest horse in line, and he got five. It wasn't fair!

Then the old familiar chant started: "Click click click - come out of it now, Jessie!"

The driver urged him on. His legs ached with the load. Klaus raced ahead with his light load, trotting along as if the cart was empty. He was soon out of sight.

7 miles. 4 miles up, 3 miles down. He got the first one out quickly, but the strange metal boxes impeded his progress. Then the hills came. Oh, how his legs hurt. The load was so heavy. The hill so steep.

He could hear Sally the imbecile catch up, slow down, fall back catch up, slow down, fall back. That, coupled with the driver's repetitious chant, was maddening. Two miles down. "Click click click - come out of it now, Jessie!"

Sweat stung his eyes. The hill grew steeper, and steeper, the load harder and harder to pull, until he was sure his legs would break. Then, a stop. Some of the load was taken away, and he was urged on by the driver at his side. The lightened load brought some life back into his tired limbs.

Then, the load was back. Oh, the horror! The road was so steep that he was sure he could go no further. His veins felt like they were pumping battery acid. He breathed in and out as hard as he could. Three miles down. He saw some other horses, free of any load, running on the hillside. Was this a dream?

Another bend, and he slowed. His body was giving out. The driver must have noticed because the load almost went away! The climb to the summit became a paltry thing. Even Klaus couldn't make this pace on a hill. Neither, apparently, could Sally the moron, even with her light load. Mercifully, he did not hear her stupid trot behind him. Still, he envied the lucky, stupid tart for her luck today.

The driver let him drink some water out of a stream. He reveled in the fact that Sally could probably see him drinking, and she didn't like to drink after other horses. Then, it was a short, easy stroll to the summit.

Four miles down.

The load was back. He thought that the load may run him over on the way down. His legs were still fried from the climb. Then came the dreaded chant: "Click click click - come out of it now, Jessie!"

Down the mountain he came, trotting wildly. The cart surged and swayed with its bloated load. At one point he thought they would all go tumbling down the mountain. At least that would be the end of it. No more loads, no more heat, no more "come out of it now, Jessie," no more stupid Sally.

Five miles down.

The downhill began to hurt his knees. His legs became like lead. He had made good time on the last mile, but behind him he heard that foolish trot of the slackjawed mare, catching up to him. He urged himself on, to try and keep the idiot at bay. But no use. She was younger and with a lighter load, so he heard her stupid trot slow down as she caught up. Klaus would laugh at him later.

Six miles down.

Into the holey part they walked. He hated this part. Although it was flat, there were plenty of holes to stumble in. A few times, he slipped. But he kept on, determined to finish this hellish marathon.

Into the park with the metal beasts they came. His load was finally lifted, and he was allowed to walk free.

Seven miles down.

The driver took him to the pasture and brought him some food, a reward for the heavy lifting of the day. Klaus was already in the pasture, and gave him a wry wink, taunting him about being so late. He turned away, not particularly interested in putting up with Klaus' shit on this particular occasion.

He wandered to the far side of the pasture, grabbing a few choice nibbles of grass along the way. Just as he thought of bedding down for the night, a white horse appeared on the hill. A mare with bright white hair and a look quite the opposite of Sally the slackjaw.

His interest piqued, he started up the hill to get a closer view. When he approached, the mare started away. He felt an unspeakable urge to see her up close, so he began to trot. He made up some ground as they zigzagged up the hill, higher and higher. By now he was at a full gallop, chasing the white mare to the summit of the mountain. He noticed how easy it was to climb without that cursed cart. He needed no clicking or urging to come out of it. He was free.

Closer and closer he came to his target. And then, it was gone. A funny feeling overcame him. There was no longer andy load on his legs. They moved completely without effort. He suddenly realized that he had run off a jagged cliff. The wind blew back his normally perked ears as gravity worked its ceaseless magic, bringing the rocks below closer and closer at what to a horse seems incomprehensible speed.

And in the end, whilst deafened by the screaming wind, only one thing crossed his mind: "Come out of it now, Jessie!"

Splat!