“It was as though we had taken a complete departure from anything in real life and stepped into something completely fantastical.

Who knew a horseback experience could be so dramatic and memorable? Who knew I could find myself feeling forlorn and missing a little horse named Ninja?

Certainly, Angie summed it up best when she said, grinning ear to ear, ‘Oh my gosh, I can do something I didn’t think I could! How cool was that?’ ”

The first and most important thing you need to know about my friend Angie is that she has little to zero experience horseback riding. Mine is about the same: nose to tail trail riding, bobbing along on a horse that presumably has an identity but we’d be hard-pressed to remember any distinguishing traits.

Angie and I had essentially no expectations as we drove the southbound I-15 toward Kanosh and so we decided, right before our exit, to do a little preliminary research into Jacob’s Ranch, the outfitter we’d be spending the rest of the evening with. After reading the website, we concluded this was NOT going to be the experience we were used to—in fact, we were actually starting to get excited.

We then received a phone call from Jackson, owner of Jacob’s Ranch, where he personally explained the deeper run-down of what we could likely expect, as well as some instructions: bring some food for grilling and a big sense of adventure.

After exiting the freeway, we pulled through a number of small towns, watching for our hotel—until the sign for the Majestic View Lodge came into view, looking not unlike a large lodge pole cabin.

The name was spot on: it overlooked variegated vermillion bluffs against an impossibly blue sky. The friendly front desk staff showed us the easiest path to our room on a map and we drove over to drop our bags and prep for our adventure.

We took in the view from our balcony, which was right across the parking lot from the swimming pool and hot tub. It was even more impressive from this vantage: a dramatic desert scape right at the edge of one of the most breathtaking places on earth, Zion National Park.

The room, remodeled just a year prior, was pristine and cozy, but we didn’t have a lot of time to take it in. We loaded back into the car, stopped at a local fresh food market for dinner supplies, and pointed the car toward Jacob’s Ranch.

Joshua, an easygoing cowboy, met us at the gate and led us to the horse pasture to have us help him call up the horses to their stalls in the barn. He also indicated to the unique nature of this experience and I couldn’t help but start wondering which of these horses was going to be the one to share it with me.

Once at the barn, we met Ivy, who brought us to each horse one by one and gave an in-depth sketch of each horse’s personality—or, “horse-inality,” as Joshua called it. They were as diverse in nature as people can be. One was showy and loved to ride fast; one was stubborn but loyal; another was the alpha male who made sure every other horse stayed in line and did their jobs. We got to go into the stalls, stroke their silky necks and muzzles, and talk to them.

Angie’s job of choosing a horse was easy: a speckled mare with a dark brown mane named Logan came right up to her elbow and gave her a nudge with her muzzle. It was more like Logan chose her. Ivy helped Angie put a rope bridal on Logan and the two of them walked together out of the barn, getting to know each other.

I was intrigued by a painted pony named Kodak because, as Ivy described his horse-inality, he reminded me of my teenaged son.

Well, Kodak and I tried to go on a walk together as well but Kodak proved more like my son than I hoped. He didn’t like listening to me and I had to ask him a million times to do things. It’s lucky horses don’t wear clothes because I was positive Kodak would have had them strewn all over his stall like my own son. I knew Kodak was going to be more work than I was able to put in, being such a new rider. So, I walked him back to the barn, a little disappointed that my process was so much less magical than Angie’s had been.

But the cowhands were patient and helpful. I told them my fears with Kodak and they helped me find another horse that might be a better match.

The horse I settled on was Ninja. Ninja was dark, almost black, mid-sized and beautiful. I led him out from the barn and he was a much better citizen at following my lead. We walked through the orchard and out to the corral, where Joshua guided us through our next steps. He showed us how to give commands to the horses and lead them around the corral, to signal with our bodies what we wanted them to do without touching them.

Ninja and I got the hang of it very quickly and soon, Ninja was jumping barrels for me.

Joshua explained that Ninja was getting to know me just as much as I was getting to know him—and as we left the corral, I didn’t have to lead Ninja at all. Ninja followed me around, muzzle in my back, like he wanted me to know he was ready to go where I took him.

Angie and I brushed down our horses and saddled them up and all told, we were already three hours into our experience. Looking back, that part was my favorite. I loved grooming and bonding with my horse, letting him get to know me and getting to know him. But Angie was anxious to get going. She and Logan had such an immediate bond that she just wanted to ride!

Two other groups showed up to join us on the ride, a family from Luxemburg with 12 and 10-year old girls, and a newlywed couple who had done the ride before and chose to make it a part of their honeymoon.

We stocked our saddlebags with food and water, mounted our horses, and hit the trail just as the sun was setting. We rode out to the bluffs behind the ranch, all the while, the terrain getting more and more challenging.

The sun steadily set and more and more, I found myself needing to rely on Ninja’s footing and ability to see much better in the dark than I could.  In fact, there was a period of time between the sun setting and the full moon rising where I couldn’t see anything at all and I had to put my trust in Ninja 100%.

Ninja climbed and descended some pretty steep grades and through it all, I was learning to work with and trust him. I was also learning to trot, getting pointers from the handlers on the ride with us. By the time we stopped to build a campfire, it was around 10:00 at night and the moon was peeking above the cliffs and lighting up the valley like a giant flashlight.

Our bodies were tired but the handlers assured us the most intense and dramatic riding was yet to come.

I hate to admit it, but this is where I lost my nerve. I have a pretty healthy fear of heights and hearing about galloping at Mach 5 straight up and then down a giant bluff was making me weak in the knees. Angie and I finished our campfire dinner and I fed Ninja my carrots, stroking his neck and letting him know I was freaking out.

We saddled up and started riding again, up to the base of what Jackson called The Gauntlet.

I just couldn’t do it. It was frustrating but I just couldn’t bring myself to climb those bluffs with Ninja. I knew Ninja could do it but I just couldn’t. Joshua, who was super patient and kind, talked me through a different route, letting me know that hey—this was my ride after all. He made me feel completely at ease and so much better.

Now, when Angie and Logan came back from the ride of their lives, I have to say I felt some serious regret. Angie told me about how thrilling it had been to feel the smooth gallop of her horse at full speed, of the spectacular moon-drenched vista at the top of either of the two incredibly tall bluffs, and then the dramatic descent off the cliffs, and it sounded amazing.

As we trotted back to the ranch, I could tell Ninja was disappointed that he hadn’t been able to take me up on the big climbs. He was a little restless, as if he were trying to help me understand that he could do it, that he was a good horse who was strong and loved to run. I felt like I let him down and I also felt like I wanted another week with Ninja at least so he could teach me how to ride!

I also have to admit that, when I nuzzled his muzzle for the last time before leaving him, around 12:30am, that I got emotional.  It was the first time I had really connected with a horse or felt like one had really connected with me. I was sad to leave him.

We thanked the ranch hands, and Joshua in particular, over and over for an absolutely unforgettable experience, and headed back to our hotel room to scrub off the layers of dust and sweat—and I swear a bed has never felt better in my life than that one at the Majestic View Lodge. It was a delightful bed and we were exhausted!

The next morning, Angie and I caught breakfast in the hotel restaurant, which was reasonably priced at around $10-15 per entrée—but anyone staying at the Lodge gets an additional 10% off at the restaurant as well as the gift shop.

We also had time to peruse the Museum of North American Wildlife adjacent to the hotel lobby. It was an interesting walk-through, particularly, I’d imagine, for guests new to the country or region. The same front desk attendant who had helped us the night before was there the following morning, showing us around the exhibits and talking about the Lodge.

He said there are plans in the works to completely remodel the Lodge now that all the rooms have been updated. We were again very impressed with the friendliness of the staff!

Once we checked out and headed home again, we could not stop talking about our adventure from the night before. It was as though we had taken a complete departure from anything in real life and stepped into something completely fantastical.

Who knew a horseback experience could be so dramatic and memorable? Who knew I could find myself feeling forlorn and missing a little horse named Ninja? Certainly, Angie summed it up best when she said, grinning ear to ear, “Oh my gosh, I can do something I didn’t think I could! How cool was that?”