My Uncle Jess always corrected us kids whenever he heard us use "Hey," as in "Hey, can we go out to play?" "Hey, take us to the park." And the most frowned upon, "Hey, why do smoke those stinky cigars?" He'd always tell us "Hey? Hay's for horses." The expression was totally lost on us kids, and him saying it only made us want to use "hey" even more. "Hey, get off our backs, old man." We never actually said that; he'd probably have spanked us if we had. We weren't dumb.
So, that's what immediately comes to mind when I consider the possibility of going for a hayride... as in The Husband announcing, "Hey, let's do something fun, like find some place we can all go for a hayride. We could invite all the little nieces and nephews to join us. Sounds fun, right?" The rest of us, "What!" Our argument would probably sound something like, "We live in the middle of the Southern California desert. Where are we supposed to find a hayride place." I'd insist the drive not be too long because of the cost of fuel, we'd need to find a dog sitter, and incur additional expense for food and stuff, not to mention whatever the cost of the hayride attraction would be. You have to factor all these details into the whole thing, right.
Now, I do have one wonderful memory of another horse-drawn ride. It was in Keystone Colorado and the entire family went on a glorious sleigh-ride. We were bundled up in our winter gear, with additional warmth provided by festive plaid thick woolen blankets. It was a two horse sleigh and we were taken on a scenic tour of a wintry wonderland. Hot chocolate awaited us at the lodge. As exhilarating as our nearly hour-long excursion was, it felt so good to come in from the snow and cold. Being greeted by a cozy fire was the perfect ending.
Imagining a perfect Fall hayride setting would probably be at a Christmas tree farm on a working ranch. We would first follow along a guided horseback riding trail, complete with end-of-ride horse grooming. Followed by seemingly endless servings at the bar-b-que cookout, some tending to the smaller farm animals, then a giant campfire - smores, hot cocoa, ghost stories and all. Music quietly playing in the distance would also be nice - you know, some Lady Antebellum, Kenny Chesney, Reba McEntire and maybe some Trace Adkins, and finally a hayride under a velvety purplish-black night sky. The whole shebang. I wouldn't mind if a bunch of strangers shared in the experience. Our kids like to annoy us by whining, "Do we have to go?" "It's gonna be so boring." "Why?" whenever we plan to do something out of the ordinary. And The Husband and I give them our go-to response, "Because we say so. Let's go." Usually, by the end of these types of occasions, it's happened more than once that we arrive home to hear, "That was so much fun!" from the kiddos. A camera would chronicle the whole day; pictures would be framed to remind us of a wonderfully special day.
Yeah, that's my ideal hayride experience. What's yours. Put a link in the comments to your post for this BlogHer NaBloPoMo prompt.