| Mystic's Tribute 1992 - 2001 |
| Copyright 2006 Missouri Trailblazing.com. All Rights Reserved |
Arabs are not looked on too favorably in my neck of the woods, unless you're into
endurance riding. Because of all the stereotypical stories, people just think they are all hard
to deal with. Mystic was the proof that not all Arabs are flighty or high strung idiots.
I got Mystic when he was an 18 month old gelding. His registered name was PKW
Alexander. Most everyone started calling him Al, but I hated it because every time I heard
somebody call him that, it reminded me of Peg Bundy calling her husband's name on that
goofy TV show "Married With Children"....... It just seemed so undignified. He was just to
beautiful, graceful and undeserving of such an awful nickname. So, later, after marrying
Hank and giving him this wonderful and trustworthy horse, we renamed him Mystic in
keeping with our magical theme.
Mystic was just about everything you could want in a great trail horse. From the minute I
started training him he seemed like a wise old soul. He took everything in stride and gave
me few problems with anything. From the first time he was ridden, he never offered to buck
or rear or pull any rodeo stunts. The only two things we had problems with were getting
him to go through water and into a trailer. He never got wild and crazy about it, just
stubborn, refusing to move. We did however, get him through those two problems with
very little trouble. This all tells you a lot about him because I was the one training him and
I'm no trainer. He was just that good.....
By the time he was four years old, I was teaching my 5 year old niece Shea how to ride on
him. He was so well behaved and such a baby sitter that he knew when a child was on him
and would do everything he could to keep them on him. It seemed he would stop in mid
stride if he felt the kid slip to one side or the other on him. By the time Shea was 6, she was
riding him by herself in a small riding arena guiding him around objects, over a small wooden
bridge we built, and over a tarp. I also gave lessons to a woman who was going on a
missionary trip to South America and needed to learn to ride because that would be their
main way of travel. She had never even touched a horse before and she was in her 40's.
Mystic took care of her and made something that she was very afraid of,
fun and exciting for her.
Mystic did a lot of trail riding in his too short life. He was ridden at Greensfelder,
Rockwood Range, Meramec State Forest, Berryman, Little Indian Creek, Paddy Creek
Wilderness, Swan Creek, Cuivre River State Park, Gladetop Trail, and Kaintuck Trail as
well as a lot of road, town and highway riding. He enjoyed going through the drive through
at Hardees in Union, MO because a friend of mine there would often treat him with an ice
cream cone, which he loved. I had ridden him along Highway 50 and over the I-44
overpass a time or two. He could probably be called truly "bomb-proof" because in
the several years that I owned him, I don't ever remember him spooking at anything while
under saddle.
If anything negative could ever be said of him, it would be that he was an accident waiting to
happen. He was a klutz when left to himself, and was always finding a way to get hurt. He
spent a lot of time injured in one way or another and probably would have been ridden at
many more trails if he hadn't always seemed to be hurt. That one big quirk was probably
what led to his death in the end.
Late in the evening of August 28th, 2001 there was a thunderstorm. There was a lot of
lightening, but other than that, I don't remember it being an exceptionally bad storm, nothing
nearly as bad as so many of the other storms over the years that I know the horses have had
to weather..... We don't really know for sure exactly what happened than night, but early
the next morning I found Mystic laying in the back of the pasture, dead of an apparent
broken neck. We buried him here ourselves on our property.
He was much loved and is much missed.........
endurance riding. Because of all the stereotypical stories, people just think they are all hard
to deal with. Mystic was the proof that not all Arabs are flighty or high strung idiots.
I got Mystic when he was an 18 month old gelding. His registered name was PKW
Alexander. Most everyone started calling him Al, but I hated it because every time I heard
somebody call him that, it reminded me of Peg Bundy calling her husband's name on that
goofy TV show "Married With Children"....... It just seemed so undignified. He was just to
beautiful, graceful and undeserving of such an awful nickname. So, later, after marrying
Hank and giving him this wonderful and trustworthy horse, we renamed him Mystic in
keeping with our magical theme.
Mystic was just about everything you could want in a great trail horse. From the minute I
started training him he seemed like a wise old soul. He took everything in stride and gave
me few problems with anything. From the first time he was ridden, he never offered to buck
or rear or pull any rodeo stunts. The only two things we had problems with were getting
him to go through water and into a trailer. He never got wild and crazy about it, just
stubborn, refusing to move. We did however, get him through those two problems with
very little trouble. This all tells you a lot about him because I was the one training him and
I'm no trainer. He was just that good.....
By the time he was four years old, I was teaching my 5 year old niece Shea how to ride on
him. He was so well behaved and such a baby sitter that he knew when a child was on him
and would do everything he could to keep them on him. It seemed he would stop in mid
stride if he felt the kid slip to one side or the other on him. By the time Shea was 6, she was
riding him by herself in a small riding arena guiding him around objects, over a small wooden
bridge we built, and over a tarp. I also gave lessons to a woman who was going on a
missionary trip to South America and needed to learn to ride because that would be their
main way of travel. She had never even touched a horse before and she was in her 40's.
Mystic took care of her and made something that she was very afraid of,
fun and exciting for her.
Mystic did a lot of trail riding in his too short life. He was ridden at Greensfelder,
Rockwood Range, Meramec State Forest, Berryman, Little Indian Creek, Paddy Creek
Wilderness, Swan Creek, Cuivre River State Park, Gladetop Trail, and Kaintuck Trail as
well as a lot of road, town and highway riding. He enjoyed going through the drive through
at Hardees in Union, MO because a friend of mine there would often treat him with an ice
cream cone, which he loved. I had ridden him along Highway 50 and over the I-44
overpass a time or two. He could probably be called truly "bomb-proof" because in
the several years that I owned him, I don't ever remember him spooking at anything while
under saddle.
If anything negative could ever be said of him, it would be that he was an accident waiting to
happen. He was a klutz when left to himself, and was always finding a way to get hurt. He
spent a lot of time injured in one way or another and probably would have been ridden at
many more trails if he hadn't always seemed to be hurt. That one big quirk was probably
what led to his death in the end.
Late in the evening of August 28th, 2001 there was a thunderstorm. There was a lot of
lightening, but other than that, I don't remember it being an exceptionally bad storm, nothing
nearly as bad as so many of the other storms over the years that I know the horses have had
to weather..... We don't really know for sure exactly what happened than night, but early
the next morning I found Mystic laying in the back of the pasture, dead of an apparent
broken neck. We buried him here ourselves on our property.
He was much loved and is much missed.........