Life is an adventure, and my typical response is to say “sure, why not?”Normally, What is the worse that can happen?
so you try a new food and don’t like it, perform on stage and get booed off, it’s not the end of the world.

So the story goes… In Rio Bravo, Coahuila, Mexico they have a cabalgata.
Basically everyone and their horses come out to ride between towns.
My cousins in law have several horses and several of us decided to ride in the Cabalgata. The horse I got was my mother-in-law’s horse, but she fell off earlier, so I decided to take her place.
A few beers into the ride, my horse was attacked by another horse, I mean biting and kicking while I was on it. We got the horses separated the first time and I had my horse under control we went over to the soft shoulder of the road and I was calming him down. But the attacking horse came back and my horse started bucking. I locked my legs and huddled to keep from being thrown off the horse. The horse threw its head back. My head is hard, but I lost out. I blanked for a second then tried to get off the horse, fell to the ground and opened my eyes to see the horse above me. It stepped on my ankle, but I think the boots saved me. I rolled out, literally. Rambo style. (edit: my brother in law says I dismounted properly, then the horse bumped me and I fell. So naturally, I checked to make sure my camera was ok and picked up my new cowboy hat that Uncle Hugin had given me earlier.
The only thing left to do was get back on the horse and finish riding until we found Alma and he uncle to take me to the hospital. First Aid training told me to lean forward and let the blood out, which I did. I blew some of it into my sweatshirt which is also red (great adventure fashion choice). I also told Mario several questions to ask me like counting to twenty, saying the alphabet, phone numbers and spelling my name or some such stuff every twenty minutes. He did a great job.
Riding into the last town before the end of the Cabalgata, I realized that I did not look for my glasses. They were a few miles back (20 minutes as the horses ride) but I could see the changes on the little mexican children’s faces as I squinted at them through my swollen face, which Alma later told me looked like a ninja turtle. Alma’s face was not much better, but she hid it and she was kind enough to take the photo of me for posterity.
The Mexican emergency room was excellent. Friendly doctors and good morphine. I spent the next few weeks a bit grumpy and blind, but in the end it all worked out. just another scar and another story.

So when they invite you to the cabalgata, say yes. what’s the worse that could happen?

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