It was comfortable then too. I remember the genuine leather saddle that practically screamed official former cowboy saddle memorabilia. There was probably still gun smoke smells forever stained into it from gun fights outside the OK Corral against those hooligan Pettleton Brothers Gang always terrorizing town. Or, it was countless rear ends of smelly, poopy pants children rubbing their rear ends against priceless, genuine memorabilia.
Back in 1989 I remember almost getting bucked from that wild stallion. That sucker sure had some power and it sure ran hard. After several visits to Meijer for groceries with my mom and several pennies begged from her purse I had eventually mastered the wild Sandy. Other children would get on excitedly only to have no knowledge of how to control it's unbridled electric power. I would snicker as I waited in line ready to show the next riders how it was done, and when that 45 seconds of bucking, galloping insanity was over, I would proudly get off as all the patrons of Meijer watched in amazement.
And then as I saw this little girl riding the mighty Sandy, I realized, the Mighty Sandy was hardly an image of her glory days. She had lost a step. It barely rocked...forward...and back...with no power, no untamed wildness like she once had...she's been tweaked her and there over the years to keep her going, including a fiberglass saddle, no doubt hard and unforgiving on the gallops.
I'll always remember the good ol' days Sandy.
Ride on good buddy, ride on.
