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Growing up we had a beautiful white American Saddlebred Mare. We named her Beauty. She was fast and like most horses she would not allow you to ride her much past one-half mile down the road - getting too far away from the hay and too much work! One afternoon I road her the half mile then got off at the resistance point and lead her the rest of the 3 miles to a friend's house. She put up with the free ride bit but once the gate was open with me on her back and her assurance that we were headed home, she turned into a rocket. She ran the entire length home and turning into our gravel lane, she had enough left to leave me going straight as she turned left. The lane was fairly long so by the time I reached the house, mother was greeted with a blood-caked face - turns out, after washing the blood off, there was one pinhole in a vein on my forward that spewed most of the facial.