Testing the Gate

I drew rein beside a heavy brass locking carabiner resting across the cedar slats of the bench. It was anchored under the strap of an oiled canvas pack, its spring gate wedged half-open against the grain. Leaning forward in the stirrups, I tested the hinge with the blunt toe of my riding boot. The tension was stiff, resisting at first, then snapping home with a solid, dry click that echoed off the wood. The clasp settled flush into the spine, perfectly flat. With the latch secured and no loose edges to catch our stirrups, we had a clean hitching point cleared along the timber.