I wasn't about to let anything like freezing weather and snow keep me from riding my horse.
I had thermals to wear under my jeans, a couple pair of thick socks and a ski mask with the eyes and mouth cutout making me look like I was ready to stick up the closest convenience store.
Besides, I was going to use the snow to my advantage.
We didn't have any decent hills near our home to sled down, so I had the brilliant idea of pulling my brother through the snow on my horse.
I could picture us, Cherokee's mane & tail flying as he galloped through the snow.
His hooves tossing up glittering bits snow while my brother was sitting on his brand new silver flying saucer enjoying the ride.
We couldn't get off of the school bus fast enough.
The snow was deep, the sky was clear and we were going to have some fun horseback riding and sledding.
I was out to the barn in a flash, saddling up Cherokee, careful not to get any of his long winter coat caught in the cinch.
I need to point that out because of all the westerns I had ever watched on television and in movies when their horses trudged through snow and blizzards, they looked nothing like the Wooly Mammoth my horse turned into when the weather started getting cold.
I slid my foot into the stirrup, mounted and walked Cherokee over to a stump where my brother was standing.
Keith climbed on behind me, holding the round, metal saucer in his right hand.
I brought along about twelve foot of dog tie-out chain with a good-sized chunk of clothesline rope added to give us some extra length.
We looked like Gladiators heading across the street to conquer the open field.
We reached the area behind the road-front businesses and Keith jumped down with his saucer.
I uncoiled the chain/clothesline concoction and he fastened the chain end to the handle of his saucer.
He sat in the center, legs crossed and I urged Cherokee ahead slowly.
The slack was taken up and I looked back to see my brother with a big smile on his face as we headed across the field.
I urged Cherokee into a faster gait and looked back again at my brother.
It was one of those perfect Norman Rockwell Americana scenes until Cherokee looked back and saw something was following him.
I was too busy feeling smug to notice he didn't share our enthusiasm with our winter outing.
Cherokee started to go faster without any encouragement from me.
He looked back again and realized he was being chased.
He turned a little to get a better look and didn't like what he saw.
That's when he started to buck.
I came out of the saddle fast.
I still don't know if I hit my face on the saddle or on my knee, but it hurt like hell as I tumbled through the air and landed face first in the snow.
I remember thinking how good it felt to be lying in the snow.
The cold seemed to caress my face and beckoned me to close my eyes and stay awhile until the thought of my horse standing unattended in the field with a busy road between him and home brought me around like a slap.
I sat upright and my brother was walking towards me, asking if I was OK.
I saw Cherokee standing and looking at me.
Instead of remaining as calm as my two cohorts, I went from being semi-conscious into a state of hysterics in two seconds flat.
I started screaming at my brother to get my horse before he took off and got hit crossing the busy road.
Keith turned and started running towards Cherokee and the rodeo began again.
I can still see my horse running and bucking through the field with the flying saucer bouncing and becoming air-borne behind him.
I gathered myself up and started heading slowly for home, afraid of what I might find when I reached the road.
Keith came walking back and reassured me that Cherokee had made it home safely.
I had been so concerned for my horse I'd forgotten about the pain in my face until my bother took one look at me and advised me to clean off my face with the snow.
My cheek felt as if it had somehow managed to get pushed halfway past my right eye.
My nose and mouth were bleeding and my lip was stiff.
I can only imagine the terror my mother must have felt seeing my horse gallop through the yard and back to the barn without a rider.
I'm very proud to report that she removed his bridle and put him in the barn before leaving the house to check on us.
A quick trip to the emergency room proved nothing was broken and no stitches were needed.
I went to school the next day with two black eyes, a swollen nose and a fat lip.
That might have bothered some teenage girls, but not me.
Fortunately, big sunglasses were in style and they covered up my black eyes.
Plus, I was never much of a frilly, home coming queen kind of girl.
I liked to compare myself to Calamity Jane.
Not the real one that was a drunk and a prostitute.
The pretty one that Doris Day played in the movie.
The one that cleaned up really well, turned into a beautiful woman, got to marry handsome Wild Bill Hickok and sang "Secret Love" while riding a black horse.
As a matter of fact, I probably owned as many dresses as Calamity Jane.
Besides, this wouldn't be the first black eye I went to high school with.
I'm actually surprised that they didn't come up with one of those yearbook titles for me "Most Likely to Have a Black Eye".
I rode through that field a lot before and after the flying saucer incident.
It was the safest way to some unpaved back roads, to my best friend's home and to some nice trails that ran along the river.
I know when Cherokee made it safely to the barn he was no longer dragging a flying saucer, but during all of my travels through that field, I never did see it again.
Like most flying saucers you hear about, it simply disappeared.