---

When I was growing up in the little town of Waimea on the island of Hawai’i, we would saddle our horses in the late afternoon and go down to the post box to get my grandfather’s “Hilo Tribune” newspaper. The old man’s driveway was 4 miles long.

On the way home, the horses knew that they would be fed grain, so they would run at top speed up the very last hill to our ranch house. It got to be quite competitive with the horses. We kids would hold on for our very lives.

In Hawai’i, the horses have shoes but the kids riding … do not!

Aloha nui,
Keola Beamer