We scream into the arena’s open gate. Sweat soaked pebbles kick up and sting my face. A cool breeze blows against me from our sudden speed. “Up, Up, Up, Rocky!” I shout over the roar of galloping hooves and cheers from the fence.
“Easy up,” I sink back into the saddle ready for our fist turn. Pressing my spur firmly into his left side, I coax Rocky to bend around the barrel. Looking ahead to the second Can, I drive him hard into the turn.