Mt. Agamenticus Riding Stables

Mount Agamenticus is a small mountain that has a lot to offer. It is located in the small town of York Maine where I grew up. It’s a long drive to get to but it is worth it. There is beautiful scenery at every angle, trials to discover, and a big field to play in.

At the summit of the mountain there is a fire tower. My father used to man the tower, keeping watch over the town, making sure it is safe from fires. There was also a small riding stable at the base of the tower and I would go with my father as often as I could to visit the horses. I was about six years old when I discovered the charming little barn.

One day, when I was tagging along, I noticed the woman who managed the barn was out front staining the fence. I asked my father if it would be ok for me to see if there was any room for me at the stables, and he nodded his head and I took off.

I was nervous but I walked over to her with my head up high as she had the stain all over her hands. I asked if I could volunteer and help out at the stables and to my delight she said that she would love to have me help. My eyes light up and I was overjoyed. I ran up to the top of the tower and told my dad. He was so happy for me.

The next day, my father and I went back up the mountain and I was “dressed for success.” It felt like the drive was longer that usual, I just wanted to get there! We pulled up and I hopped out of the truck and ran down to the barn. The horses were out eating their hay, swatting the flies with their tails, and enjoying the summer sun. When I got up to the fence I stopped to walk, I didn’t want to seem too excited but it was a dream come true and I was itching to get there. The aroma of the horses and the hay was all around me and I knew I was in heaven and that this was the beginning of something special.

From that day on I was there as often as I could. I took riding lessons, helped with cleaning the stalls and paddocks, bathed the horses, cleaned buckets, put out hay and water, brought the horses in and out, helped with getting them ready for trail rides and everything else that there is to do with horses, I did it all. I didn’t mind, I was on top of the world.

There was one horse, she was beautiful. She was an appaloosa and her name was Cherokee. I loved her and everyone knew it. She took great care of me. She was the only horse that I wanted to ride, I rode others but she was number one. We went on long trail rides, short trail rides, rides in the ring and even just me sitting on her back with out a saddle, just hanging out. We were best buds, inseparable you could say.

We were out in the field at the top of the mountain with other riders on a beautiful sunny day. The grass was green and the sky clear. I could see my dad up in the tower looking down at us. Cherokee and I were riding around enjoy the sites as we got farther and farther from the group. She looked over and saw the others were far from us and took off at a gallop. I held on for dear life as it startled me, it was my first time going that fast. We got to the group and I was in shock. It was scary but fun all at the same time!

I volunteered there for seven years over the summers. It was my safe haven, a place where I could be myself and truly enjoy life. The trails were wonderful and the people were great but after a while it began to run down. The town couldn’t afford it anymore and the horses all left and I was in tears.

I saw Cherokee one day at a friend’s house. Her new owner’s were boarding her there. I only saw her at a distance and that was the last time I saw her. I still wonder where she is and how she is doing. I look online every once in a while just in the hope that I would find her and if I ever do I will have to buy her. She was my girl and I will miss her forever