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Riding into the Sunset - Part 2
by Lorna Adams
Continuing the saga of four intrepid horsewomen facing the challenges that Wild Wet Welsh Wales threw at them....
We had instantly felt at ease having met the founder of Freerein, Graham Williams. This man was so laid back I thought he would fall over! He had an unhurried and patient nature. He had organised everything to the last detail, and had obviously researched his work. We asked his advice about the standard of grooming required. His answer will stay with me forever. "Some people simply show the horses the brush. While others brush them away from existence."
In preparation for the trek, Graham, had made the mistake of asking if we had any preferences about the horses. I wanted a horse that would go fast and Anne had requested a good mannered one. Fran wanted the biggest horse they had. Being a petite lass - she was always given "bone shakers", i.e. little horses that are very jerky and jolt the rider around. (the ones that make bra wearing mandatory!) Sue, the timid rider of the group, had asked for a small pony that would not run away with her. Not exactly the wild bunch!
Saddle bags bulging , riders giggling, horses restless. The four of us excitedly read the first paragraph of our instructions... "At the end of the lane, turn left, take the next left, and proceed up the steep tarmac lane to T-junction to our first checkpoint."
We were on our way!
As we began our descent up the tarmac lane, I had chance to observe our steeds. Fran had been delivered the goods she requested! Barney's shoulders were above her head, she had needed help to get on him at the stables. (and this worked to her advantage when we all took turns to open the many gates throughout those Radnor Hills!) Barney was a gentle giant, he had a comical face which allowed him to get away with a multitude of sins. Sue was reserving judgement about her small pony called Gemma. Gemma appeared very happy to plod behind the rest of us, but Sue was waiting to see how she handled in the open. Anne had been given "Red". A name definitely inspired by his colouring, but did it mirror his character? Red had obviously taken a dislike to Barney, following a brisk swishing of tails Red asserted his authority and pulled ahead of Barney. And my Jamie, was of course the most beautiful horse in the whole wide world. For those three days, I had an affair on horseback! I was instantly smitten by his big brown eyes. His body was a chestnut colour, with flowing black mane and tail.
Jamie was all a girl could want in a horse, It was love!
It took us half an hour to reach the second checkpoint. The instructions then took us up a disused path. This really was wild Wales This overgrown track was obviously not used very often, it was stony, with a stream running down the middle of it. From that moment, we hardly saw the road for the next 3 days.
The track wound it's way around old deserted farmhouses, through gates, following stony paths, going along field hedgerows, and then onto open moor. The rolling hills carried on into the distance. A horse riders paradise.
There was no need for words. We knew what lay ahead.
We all lined up. The horses were snorting with ears pricked forward. Riders gathered the slack from the reins. The horses quivered and strained at the bit.
Under starters orders, green light - GO! Tears steamed down my face, blinding me. Deafened by the rhythm of hooves, I held tightly onto Jamie. What a reckless feeling. The landscape flashed by, as I frantically scanned the ground ahead for holes. Behind me the thunder of hooves on turf got louder. Red was closing in fast. The rush of wind pulled at my coat and scarf. This was better than any fair ground ride. Red and Jamie were neck and neck....... We saw them just in time. Peering mournfully over the brow of the hill ahead was a flock of sheep. We had to apply the brakes quick! Wool and hooves everywhere as we tried to regain control of our mounts.
Eventually we all stood in a dishevelled group. Horses and riders was panting. I felt like I was the one who had done all the work! We had covered that ground so quickly, what a thrilling first race. Anne and I were like two giggly schoolgirls. We had experienced an adrenaline rush which left us feeling exhausted and euphoric. Fran, was delighted. Barney had been so comfortable, she described him as a rocking chair. Sue had decided that Gemma was perfect. She had come last in the race.
Graham had arranged a route which provided watering holes for horses and riders. Lunch was enjoyed at a local village pub. The first of many such stops. We never did find out if you could be prosecuted for "Drunk Riding". As we approached our first stop we could see the tell tale signs of Bailer Twine decorating the fence posts. (Bailer twine proved to be a valuable resource on a holiday like this - it was used to tie up the horses, but if they became spooked and pulled back suddenly, then the bailer twine would snap before damage was done to either the horse or the fencing.) We drew quite a crowd as we dismounted. We tended to our mounts, before quenching our thirst. Initially we hadn't felt stiff on dismounting,. It was only when getting up after finishing our food, that I felt a bit delicate! Of course I couldn't lose face in front of the people outside, I had to prove that I could cope with this!
Our afternoon ride took us through the most wonderful landscapes and views. One vista after another opened up as you rounded another bend. The scenery was splendid and never ending in its beauty. Photos were taken but we never managed to capture the scale and depth of our surroundings. The array of colours was indescribable. You really had to be there to appreciate it all.
Our route description led us down many tracks some that were difficult to see initially, and followed what appeared to be animal tracks. Many of the tracks were sheep highways. Sheep caused us a few problems during the 3 days. We nicknamed them "hazards". They had a canny knack of appearing when you were practically on top of them which scarred the life out of us and totally spooked the horses. Each of us had near misses of becoming unseated as the horse went one way and we went the other!
Graham's directions were clear and explicit. He himself had travelled the hills by foot, which allowed him to write details and highlight landmarks to help the riders find their way.
That afternoon we were roasted by a blazing sun, and Barney obviously felt the heat (unfortunately for Fran!). We were weaving our way through the blaze of purple heather, when Barney decided to lie down! Preceded by a large grunt he started to go onto his side with Fran in tow. It all happened in a split second. My heart was in my mouth. Then Fran swiftly pulled her leg clear from under Barney and moved like lightning. Fortunately the heather was so thick underneath and this gave Fran the space to escape. Barney proceeded to roll, and all we could do was watch. Afterwards, Fran straightened the saddle and saddle bags, and pulled pieces of heather from his mane. After a severe telling off, like a true horse woman, Fran got back in the saddle. We were all a little paranoid whenever our horses pawed the ground for the next hour!
Having been in the saddle for 6 hours, with two miles to go to the "Fforrest Inn" where we had been booked in for the evening. The horses had been booked into a nearby field, with en-suite facilities. The thought of a refreshing pint was high in our minds and was our guiding light, when we lost our way! We were looking for our last checkpoint of the day , where the track forked. We didn't know if we had gone past it or had not yet reached it. We spent the next 30 minutes traipsing back and forwards along the same patch to no avail. I felt so tired and was becoming intensely irritated, the rest of the expedition were similarly irate. The poor horses were hot and sweaty and were becoming restless with being turned around to go back the way we had just come again. The prospect of spending a night on the hills did not bring out the best in us! We checked our rations, and I pulled out an emergency packet of yoghurt covered raisins. These were promptly stolen from my hand by Barney! How we laughed - not! We pored over the maps to assess where we were. We had been cantering and had missed the vital fork in the tracks. Thank goodness Graham had chosen maps of a large scale containing the nearest fenceline and tree! We were able to hack our way through the wild Welsh undergrowth and find the required pathway. Spirits were now a little subdued, and I was beginning to experience saddle sore. What I would have given for a padded cushion at that moment!
The relief was tangible when the Fforrest Inn appeared through the gloaming. The urge to dive into the nearest shower was overpowering, but I had to resist. The intrepid explorers had to first take care of their mounts - though there was one member of the party who was not keen on this idea (because she had the biggest horse!) and kept moaning about needing a pint of lager!.
The horses needed to be untacked, fed and groomed. Anne and I let the other two go off to search for our rooms, and have the first baths. As we let the horses loose into their overnight accommodation, the peace of our surroundings enveloped us as we watched them roll, and stretch, and then start the endless eating of grass. For a while the pain, aches and sore bottom were forgotten. The wonderful silence, interrupted by the occasional chomping of grass, and birds twittering evening song A lovely ending to our first day.
Relaxing in the restaurant we reflected on the experiences of the day - scenery, heather, sunburn, sheep, maps, yoghurt coated raisins, aches and saddlesore! But undaunted and looking forward to another day. Replete with food and drink, we wended our weary way to bed. We slept in peaceful ignorant bliss!
To be continued...