I've dreamed of having my own horse farm since I was a kid. Horses were my obsession -- I was constantly sneaking off to ride any pony I could find. Around age 10, I found a local stable a short bike ride away. It wasn't long before I was mucking stalls in exchange for free riding, and by the age of 12, I was leading tour groups on the trails! To get me out of the dang stable (I swear), my folks bought a farm in Western Massachusetts, where I was finally able to have my own horses. It was heaven. I had a flashy little Welsh pony/Morgan mix that I rode every day. We went to horse shows at the local fairs, riding in the saddle seat division. It was fun while it lasted, but sadly, all little girls have to grow up. Once I left for college and started working, there was no time or money for horses, except for the occasional ride on vacation. Flash forward 40 years: In 2004, I visited Costa Rica, fell in the love with the country, and went home with 200 acres of land! Finally, I was able to realize my dream of having my own horse farm, which I called Rancho Tranquilo. Over the course of nine years, many horses came my way -- about six in need of rescue, a few as gifts, and one poor guy that I won in a raffle. Eventually I had a stable of ten solid horses, and I began offering horseback tours in my neighborhood -- the gorgeous Diamante Valley, home to some of the most spectacular waterfalls in Costa Rica. For nine years, I lived in the campo, became a member of my Tico community, and participated in all the local horse traditions, like cabalgatas (community trail rides), topes (horse parades), and corre de la cinta competitions (snag a little ring at a gallop). Life was fun, but hard financially. Horses are a passion, not a money maker, ever. My book, "The Story of Rancho Tranquilo," tells all about my experiences during this time. In 2013, I sold Rancho Tranquilo, and my beautiful ponies, to a couple of horse lovers from the US. I moved to a little house by the beach in the Central Pacific, bringing just one horse: my soulmate, Ares. When he passed away, I tried to replace him with another Arab, but it didn't work out. By now, the new owners of the ranch were phasing out of the tour business, so I bought my old horses Rocky and Bozo, and brought them up to Esterillos. My neighbor gave me the use of the pasture next to my house. I built a little barn and tack room, and my ponies were in the backyard! Over the years, however, I've had a series of broken bones -- to the point where it has become the local joke.
"Linda, so good to see you. You're not on crutches this year!" I've heard, over and over. I finally came to the difficult decision to sell my horses. I wasn't riding much anymore, and they were bored just hanging around in the pasture. Just yesterday, my good boys went to their new home, at Sunrise Ranch in Guanacaste. Sandra Farnlietner runs an equestrian school for kids, and my boys will be spending the rest of their days teaching children to ride. I couldn't be happier. I've had horses for 15 years now, and while it is odd to not have them in my life, I'm not really sad. Things I've noticed on my first day of being "horse-less:" - I catch myself checking the pasture, out of habit. - Sorting out my laundry, I started the usual pile for the "barn clothes" -- oops don't need them anymore. - My barn boots are still by the front door. - My fingernails are clean. - My inner clock still thinks I'm supposed to be home to feed the horses twice a day. - I can go see sunset on the beach -- it's not feeding time anymore!