14/10/2026
My first broken leg was when I was 11 years old. Not riding MY horse Jessie, but my friend’s horse… (who we later realised wasn’t broken in)!
You know the type; rears when you get on. Pig roots down hill. Bucks you off. Runs you into trees. All the typical naughty pony tricks!
But this day… this day I should have listened to her.
It was raining. ☔️
I was riding ba****ck (with a helmet this time as I normally didn’t)!
I was taking her up and down the fun hills we always rode, in and out of the little forest glade and trotting and cantering around having a happy Sunday. Just her and I.
At the top of a small hill she stopped and didn’t want to go down.
She planted her feet. Shook her head and refused to go forward.
I pushed her on. I kept kicking. Until finally she went.
Down.
And slipped sideways.
She landed on my right leg - and even though I didn’t hear both bones snap when they were crushed, (tib and fib) I FELT IT!
AGONY!!!!
I screamed. And screamed!
The rain cooled my overheating body down a little as it went into shock.
The pony ran away laughing with her top lip curling upwards.
I couldn’t crawl out of my body from the pain and I couldn’t walk. So I laid there until my friends family came to my rescue. Still Screaming!
They all circled around me. I was dizzy.
They circled around me like I was looking up at trees spinning - I heard snippets like, “She’s broken her neck.” “Don’t take her helmet off.” “It could be her back.”
I was burning 🔥 up.
In and out of consciousness I managed to gasp out the words, “It’s my leg not my neck… helmet off!”
The next thing I knew I was laughing.
The gas.
The Ambulance people.
The stretcher.
The worst ride in a vehicle of my life - every bump in the road sent pain through my body.
Mum was beside herself beside me in the Ambulance.
It was the third Christmas accident I’d had three years running. Each time visiting hospital to get stitched up or put in cast.
My poor Mum!
But I couldn’t not ride. Even the plaster of paris cast from my toes to my hip didn’t stop me jumping on Jessie to ride her ba****ck once the pain had subsided a few weeks later.
I was in cast for 3 months but managed to go to a Show Jumping Pony Club competition in my saddle with my big white cast leg stuck out the side, (trying to hide it from the Judge)! I came 3rd.🥉
These were the good old days when kids were tough and played outside alllll day! Never home. Independent. Strong and fearless. Obsessed by horses. Galloping free.
After experiencing 13 broken bones in my body over the years, I’ve always wondered how boring some childhoods must have been - I mean if you haven’t broken anything you haven’t had enough fun! Right?
Tell me your story.
I have a few but the moral of this one is…
I learnt to listen.
To stop for a second and ask the horse what is happening for them.
Looking back, that slippery hill in the rain was a sure sign of danger.
Now I feel the energy shift. And observe the situation.
Then I ask the horse to show me something. They either move their body in a way that gives me clarity.
Or they telepathically communicate.
I hear it in my knowing.
Works every time.
It takes practice to hear them but you can.
If you listen.
Pip Easton
Infinity Equestrian