Riding a donkey was not on my “bucket list.”
But my recent experience of doing just that was a topic of conversation days after the Celebrity Donkey Races during Rock County Fair last month.
I hope fair organizers bring the event back for 2023, for I have some unfinished business with a donkey named Amos.
You see, the little gray-and-white donkey developed a special bond with me.
Prior to the race, I cleaned dirt off his back and untangled his front foot from the lead rope as he stood with his other nine donkey “brothers” at the trailer.
I hoped my tender care would lead him to calmly trot around the race course without bucking, kicking and otherwise trying to dislodge me from his back.
Talks with the owner revealed that Amos was new to the racing string, and he was uncertain how the seemingly mild-mannered animal would act.
Leading Amos (whose racing name was “Simply Stupid”) to the start line, I just prayed he would allow me on his back.
As it turns out, he did.
And that was it.
I don’t tell people I rode a donkey during that first heat of the Celebrity Donkey Race — I sat on one. Because as hard as I tried to get Amos moving around the track, he just stood, managing to walk only 20 feet from the start line.
I felt defeated.
During the second heat, I stood on the opposite side of the trailer to take pictures.
The position offered a great view of the start line where my son, Andrew, was riding lined up with the others for the second heat. Andrew’s mount was called “Earthquake.”
Earthquake didn’t disappoint.
I have pictures of Andrew mounted, then bucked off, dragged along the ground, remounted, then bucked off again, and finally mounted to win his heat.
During Andrew’s race, I felt a familiar presence at my elbow — Amos had pulled away from his rider and stood calmly next to me as I took pictures. It appeared Amos wanted to watch the race, too.
After patting the little donkey and giving the lead rope back to the rider, I slapped Amos on the haunches and sent him back into the race. The encouragement must have worked, because in subsequent races Amos brought his riders to the finish line in second and fourth places.
I saw pictures of Amos the week following the Rock County Fair. He was at the fair in Pipestone and he looked like he could be ridden by a rider. I hope I had a hand in “breaking” him for racing.
He certainly made me a celebrity to my family and in the neighborhood for actually riding (sitting on) a donkey.
Thanks, Amos, for living up to your racing name, “Simply Stupid,” and for not leaving me with aches and pains as your brother “Earthquake” and the other more spirited donkeys did to my son and the other riders.
Riding a donkey was not on my Bucket List, but the experience was one that left me with bragging rights for the chance to be in the race.