The Bankers of Shackleford Island

I have a very unique bucket list. And I'm serious about it. My goal is to check every item off…well…before I kick the bucket. 

Which brings me to today. 

Today I was able to check one more item off my list. And I swear, it's better than anything I've experienced so far, including climbing Croag Patrick in Ireland. I'm still smiling.

This bucket list item was to photograph the wild ponies of Shackleford Island in North Carolina. 

What??

Exactly.

Here's the story. As the legend goes, in the 1500's, a Spanish settlement was attempted on the coast of North Carolina, with very few survivors. As ships continued to come this direction, they would either run aground, or land on the outer bank islands. Once here, the ships would abandon their livestock - including horses. This continued for  decades, with horses being cast overboard or released from Spanish ships, for whatever reason. Today, hundreds of years later, the descendents of these early equestrine pioneers roam the banks of Shackleford Island, as free as their ancestors. They are lovingly referred to by the locals as "Bankers".

There is a ton of historical references about these ponies - and I encourage you to research - but for now, for the sake of time and this blog, I'm going to focus on my up-close experience with these amazing animals.

My day started on an early ferry ride out to Shackleford Island from the quaint little town of Beaufort, North Carolina. The island is part of the National Park Service of North Carolina, and home to about 100 wild ponies. As our boat came closer to the island, I took note of the landscape. Typical island - not a lot of trees, hilly, lots of sand. 

And not a pony in sight.  

My time was limited, so a strategy was necessary. I decided to head to the highest hill. Should be easy to spot a pony from a high vantage point, right? 

Hiking through the marshy sand, working my way up toward the hills, I found myself asking, "Where would I go if I were a horse?" 

And that's when I saw it. I had wondered off into a shady grove. (if I were a horse I'd want shade, right?)

A horse grave. Of sorts.  

I had almost tripped over the skeletal remains of a horse. Not quite the encounter I imaged. But it certainly was a reality check. Horses live here…so they have to die here. Right. 

I continued on to what I saw as the highest point of the island. The sun was relentless and the humidity was not something I was used to, but I was determined. 

And just when the heat was getting to me and I was wondering if there were really any horses on this island, there they were.

I saw them first from a distance. There were about 6 ponies eating in a small valley about 50 feet away.

I dropped my pack, grabbed my camera, and moved forward slowly, so as not to spook. These were wild ponies, after all.

I moved closer ….slowly stepping, snapping pictures, afraid they would bolt any minute. Soon, I was less than 15 feet away. And they were unfazed. 

They raised their heads a few times, to check me out, but they seemed unconcerned about me as I moved closer. And then, an amazing thing happened. They started walking toward me. 

I stood still, snapping pictures as they silently moved closer and closer. I was so caught up in taking pictures, that when I finally looked up from the camera, I couldn't believe what I saw.

Two of the horses were running toward me. Really running. Straight toward me at a full gallop.

I had to make a quick decision. Do I move? Or do I stand my ground and not move? 

I stood my ground. And raised my camera. And that's when these shots were taken. 

It was the most thrilling, scary moment I've ever experienced. I loved it. 

Later, on the ferry ride back to Beaufort, I told our captain about that experience. He smiled at me and shook his head. "Why do you think they were charging you?"

"I have no idea. I was just standing there taking pictures."

"Girl, they could have run you over. It's happened. You are lucky. Or blessed. Those ponies have attacked people."

I smiled. He shook his head.

Standing my ground now has a whole new meaning.

It was an experience I will never forget, which is what a bucket list item should be. 

My advice to me

For reasons unknown to me, I find myself giving a lot of solicited advice.

Amazingly, I seem to have all the right answers to every one else's issues. I'm able to clearly see the answers to their problems and succinctly communicate what they should do to fix it. 

In the meantime, my own life has more dips and hairpin turns than a muddy motocross track. And I find myself having too many regrets for poorly made choices that seemed like a good idea at the time. 

So I decided, that instead of the proverbial "New Year's Resolutions" that inevitably get tossed aside after 72 hours or less, I would instead do what I seem to do best, and give advice to myself for the coming year. 

So here's my advice to me for 2014. I sure hope I take it. 

Dear me, 

- Theres a reason the rearview mirror in the car is so small. It's for glancing at occasionally, and only when necessary. The windshield is larger because you are supposed to be looking ahead of you. Take a lesson from your car. Stop looking at what’s behind you so much.

- There were a few absurdities and blunders this past year, yes there were.  Don’t dwell on what you can’t change. Learn from it…laugh at yourself and then move on.

- You’re a writer, so write.

- You have a wonderful, crazy, colorful family. But they won’t be here forever, they are only on loan. So reach out more. Invest.

- Your friends have lost moms, dads and spouses this year. You know what each of those losses feels like. Don’t waste your experience.

- You are an optimist. Don’t let the cynics of the world change that. It’s one of the things I love most about you.

- Your sister is right. You tend to over-think everything.  While some people and subjects are worth extra thought, most aren’t. So stop it. You’ll give yourself a headache.  

- Laugh more, especially at yourself. Other people already are anyway – so freak them out and join in.

- Dance more. Alone or with someone. With wine in hand, music blaring, in comfy pj’s. Dance away girl.

- Open yourself up to different. Different can be good.

- Stop dwelling on lost friends. Some of them needed losing. And if they loved you they wouldn't have left anyway. You've got friends aplenty. 

- Don’t own another’s emotions. You’ve enough of your own to manage.

- Stop texting and emailing. If he wanted you, he would be there. 

- See that thing in front of you that you keep saying you’re gonna do? Get up and do it.

- So you’ve been rejected. Who hasn’t? Michael Jordon was cut from his high school basketball team and look at how that turned out.

- You have two guitars, a ukulele, a drum and a piano.  Make music for goodness sake. 

- Feed your soul more and your body less, and you'll lose those 20 pounds you want to lose.

- Start every day with this question: How can I make this day count? Then do it.

- Plan a trip to someplace you’ve never been. And then go.

- Anger serves nothing. Neither does fear. Don’t give either one of these a moment of your energy.

- Pray every day. Especially for those who don’t ask for it.

- Your legs work just fine. So get moving. 

- Stop waiting for someone to bring you flowers. Plant your own garden.

- Don’t let someone with the significance of a speed bump become a roadblock in your life.

- We are born in one day. We can die in one day. We can change in one day. We can fall in love in one day. Anything can happen in just one day. So pay attention every day.

- Be careful who you make memories with. Those things can last a lifetime.

- Not everyone will like you. But not everyone matters. 

- You moved to the mountains girl, so start climbing!

Four years later

“You’ll blossom.” He smiled at me.

I thought it an odd thing to say.

He had just learned he had less than a month to live, and he was concerned about putting me at ease. It was so like him.

The next month was a blur, and memory being a fickle thing, I can only recall those things I recall. Why is that? Why can’t we remember everything? Why do we only remember bits and pieces of moments and words?

I posted the truth on the blog, as I had been doing for the past year since his surgery. The followers counted on my honest truth. I didn't pull any punches. “Don’t come to me at the funeral and tell me what a wonderful man Bob was. Tell him now. Those are his words to hear.”

And so they did. They drove, flew, wrote, called…we had a white board with a schedule of visitors. It was more than I dared hope. It was exhausting and energizing all at the same time.

I can’t tell you how many times I heard “I came to encourage him, but somehow he encouraged me.” 

Character is revealed in the worst of times. Truly. Want to know who you really are? Then deal with a disease. Deal with a deadly diagnosis.

He took control of the only thing he had the ability to control – his departure. He planned the funeral, down to each song. He politely asked the choir if any were able he would appreciate them being there to sing. Over 150 choir members came to sing him home. He went with me to select the casket and the thank you notes. I remember him pointing to the oak casket and asking me if I liked it. How do you answer such a question?

I later found a note he wrote. “I’m giddy at the thought of meeting God.” His faith was unshakable. Even as the ground beneath his feet shifted, he stood strong.

Sam said it best as he stood in full military dress at the funeral. His father lay in similar dress, quiet and still just a few feet away.

“My father taught me how to live….and he showed me how to die.”

And that was his legacy. IS his legacy. That he loved others more than he loved himself, enough to teach a final lesson, when he had absolutely nothing to gain.

“You’ll blossom.”

Those words echo in my mind. You’ll be okay, he meant. More than okay. “You will blossom.”

His final gift to me.

I’m trying, Bob. I’m trying.