Horse Adventures – Page 2 – Brave New World of Blogging

Magical Hidden Trails by Horseback

There’s always magic when you go with Laura, Christian and their crew.

Whether its your first ride ever with them :

Hidden Trails……

A seven day ride up north,

Duracks, pastoralists, the Kimberley’s and me

A round about Victoria’s mystical Wonnangatta ride;

Wonnangatta.

Or beautiful brumby territory; the Bogongs;

(you’ll be glad to know there isn’t a blog, 😝

There is a facebook album with the story on each photo –

sorry, but if you interested – open the photos individually and you will

‘get the picture, so to speak ‘ 😝

https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.6191761317509588&type=3

Or down in the Howqua ;

regardless of how many time you go.

https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.9346216082064080&type=3

And then there is

THIS TIME.

Where we had:

Amazing weather.

Amazing people.

Amazing horses.

In other words,

nothing has changed.

Riding with https://www.hiddentrails.com.au/

ALWAYS AMAZING.

And this time was no exception.

So come along ‘for the ride’

and enjoy the photos (credit to the entire gang for these)

It all began in Mansfield,

where friends from S Australia, NSW and Victoria

united over dinner and morning coffee

and off we went to Mirimbah

to meet our horses

and the Most Amazing Crew of People.

We rode up hills.

which went up, up and up

To reveal fantastic views

We stopped:

the horses drank and

we listened to the sound of water

We rode,

we looked,

we listened to Matt’s explanations

We went to the top of the world

and then had one last look….

Because things may look different through the horse’s eye

We sat around

Sometimes unsure – a foot in each camp is probably safest

We had, as always, amazing food, fabulous fires, heaps of laughs,

And for three wonderful nights,

we had

another day to look forward to.

Like this one

Moments of conversation, contemplation, anticipation

And just like that, it was time to leave.

Even the horses knew that.

and we hurried for those last memories to be made

There is a ps 🤣

a mini reunion which saw us last to leave The Anvil, after midnight,

just as the rain arrived and we walked home, wet, happy, tired, tipsy

with such such special memories of a fabulous week.

And all thanks to http://www.hiddentrails.com.au/

When opportunity knocks

Anyone who knows me,

knows I love words……..

Whether using them (some would say too much 🤣)

writing them in long winded stories (some say often going nowhere 🤪)

or reading them. 📖

I did a blog somewhere beginning “words words words”

a la My Fair Lady and,

when I went to look for it, I found, well not one, but two,

oh wait, three; (better stop looking 🙄).

See what I mean about me and Words, Words, Words.

So, if you are curious, or love words;

here are 3 ‘wordy’ posts. 😊

(Open the links to read 😉)

(Or not 🤣)

Tassie Tigers…..

Stanley… No Words….

Glenorchy Back Country ; No Words

And then,

there was no time for words

only for horses and riding

and the joy they have brought an old gal.

It all began when I had some time on my hands and wanted to visit

Mongolia

– not sure why –

you know I am a little crazy 🤪

Visiting Mongolia and not including horses just didn’t make sense

as in my mind that is where it, they, ‘all began’.

The marauding mongol tribes and all that.

Problem was, I was 64 and could not ride.

So I followed sage advice and settled for a ride in Margaret River –

my reckoning being it too began with an M ,

Mongolia, Margaret River.

A start. – what could go wrong?

Well nothing,

as it transpired,

it was magical,

painful yes,

but magical.

https://leepowrie.com/2017/11/01/margaret-river-harmony/

Be bold and have a read – the comparison will be interesting 🤣

And with that, began the most amazing few years of learning,

exploring, expanding my world in ways I could never have dreamt of.

And Mongolia receded into the back of my mind,

neither a need nor desire as life had me busy.

And now?

I hear you ask….

What are you on about –

words words words leading us nowhere……..

Well, what if I said these words were leading me

off the grid

I invite you to join me in spirit,

with a promise to share as much of my next adventure

as I can on my return to ‘the grid’

Life is full of surprises.

All you have to do is keep your heart open,

your eyes looking ahead and a smile on your dial,

even in the tough times.

And so it is that through mutual dear friends,

Mandy & Pat Retzlaff

(@Mozambique Horse Trails; 104 Horses – do read it)

I was connected with a remarkable woman,

Claire Thomas by name.

Bold, brave, fascinating,

documenting stories, both painful and joyous

to challenge or enchant us.

This is Claire Thomas……

Projects and Stories

Open the link and be blown away as I was.

Who knows what will happen if you do 😉

She has invited me to join her

and I am confident I shall be both challenged and enchanted.

And where are we going?

To Mongolia,

to the Altai Mountains,

via Beijing, Ulambataar….

Add to that the flight from

Melbourne to Biejing

You can see it is a Long Way.

The Altai Mountains are in the north west of Mongolia and the Britanica states :

The Altai mountains are a complex system extending approx. 2000km from the Gobi Desert, through the Western Siberian Plain, through China, Mongolia, Russia and Kazakhstan.

The name comes from Turkic-Mongolian Altan meaning Golden.

Okay, enough words about the geography.

How about the weather?

Right now in Melbourne we are sweltering in temperatures of 39-40 ‘C.

Yes Celsius.

We are living in semi darkness trying to keep the heat/light out.

The kids (and dog) have moved into the living room –

it being marginally cooler than their back room.

And ME?

I am navigating the thought of -23’ Celsius –

yup, that Is Minus!!!!!

The mind is baulking at having to think of such cold weather

when we can barely move from the heat…….

But navigate I must…..

Thankfully not the way to UB (Ulambataar)

Air China will do that,

but round the idea of cold, cold, cold.

Sharing accommodation, (which is common when I travel), is one thing –

the added dimension of such cold makes me wonder if we will be sharing body heat too 😉 if you get what I mean.

So I found a thermorest I last used in 2001 in Nepal (long before blogging 😂) ; does it still work, am I too old to sleep on it ;

will it keep some of the cold off?

So, just like trial packing, I have done a few trial sleeps. 😉

Seems okay. 🥰

And now to the “BIG REVEAL”

I am still pinching myself at this opportunity.

I am not going on a tourist trip to Mongolia,

where we ride around on ‘tourist horses’

seeing the ‘tourist’ things.

That would be great, I have no doubt,

but often leaves one feeling a little like a voyeur,

even a little patronising.

I will be going with Claire Thomas

Hunters and Herders of the Altai

and two others.

We are staying in the homes of Claire’s friends.

We are following the eagle hunters.

Alankush, father & Arkalak, his 12 yr old son, following in his father’s footsteps.
Carrying their eagles while riding in the Altai mountains.

26 yr old Serik Gingsbek shows off his golden eagle.

We are eating, drinking, laughing, sharing, and learning from them.

Seik Gisbek, an eagle hunter,
drinking tea while visiting Alankush.

Dinar, wife of an eagle hunter milks her cow

Food preparation is a never ending occupation.

In return, Claire is filming their stories.

For two reasons;

to help maintain their traditions

and

to help fund them for the future.

Because we all know,

we have changed the world

and what sustained rural communities for centuries

no longer does.

Which raises the question of where our responsibility lies…..

One of their urgent desires is to educate their children.

Which means sending them away to schools,

which means funding them….

Anyone interested in supporting them?

Let me know.

All the Beautiful photographs belong to Claire Thomas.

Do yourself a favour and explore her website.

Hunters and Herders of the Altai

Opportunity knocked.

I took it and will keep you posted.

Till next time adieu

I leave shortly.

Crossing the Andes

It all began with Mongolia – with friends – June/July this year.

Impending Nanna duties put an end to that and left us with the question;

now what?

Well why not cross the Andes?

I mean, really. Why not?

Only for experienced riders and I’ve been riding for five years –

makes me experienced?

Just across the ditch… the BIG ditch…. The Pacific Ocean.

So far away that doesn’t fit in one photo –

you can barely see New Zealand!!!

The plan was to follow the route taken in 1817 by José de San Martín, and his army from Argentina to Chile,

The plan for us was to get our visas, and book our flights and beg, borrow or steal the funds.

Little did we know that last would be the least of our concerns!

The visa application required return flights to be already booked.

On the other hand we were advised Not to book flights till we had visas and so the circle began……a story for another day.

But a story, it was.

The very unattractive, but very important visa

And just like that –

we were ‘off’ so to speak;

or at least at Melbourne Airport,

waiting to be ‘off’

And there we were:
three Intrepid Australians set off…..
(well two in the photo – and me 😜)

Auckland to Santiago. Santiago to Mendoza.

With our trusty 7kg luggage –

determined we were not to have any

‘lost luggage’

Until at last Mendoza it was,

Some food, a rain storm and lots of alcohol

Mendoza – where it all begins, at least officially.

Mendoza where Jose de San Martin began his extraordinary expedition to liberate Chile from the Spanish. With an army of 6 000 soldiers , 4000 cattle and unnumbered horses. They took 21 days to reach the outskirts of Santiago. There are various accounts of the numbers and losses, but suffice to say the losses of both horses and men was very large.

The expedition is often compared to Hannibal’s or Napoleon’s crossing of the Alps

And so, of course that is where we began; exploring the city; meeting the crew; getting last minute hats, sweets, and creating new memories.

We may have been a much smaller ‘army’ than Jose San Martin had, but the preparation was anything but ‘small’

Eleven riders, eleven ‘gauchos’ two guides, and a whole ‘heap’ of mules to carry everything, except us.

These amazing, ever patient animals were our lifeline. Every day, everything we needed was packed on to their backs with a complex roping system that left us all in awe of both the gaucho’s skill and the mule’s patience.

We, on the other hand were spared the indignity of being tied onto our mules/horses -although there were passes we rode that had us wishing we were tied onto our horses, and some would happily have had their heads covered too!-

Instead we were expected to climb elegantly into the saddle.

Climb we did, elegantly is quite another issue!

But I jump ahead

(as usual my stories are all over the place, both literally And figuratively) –

Our first night together with our horses, mules, tiny two man tents (really? – Pygmy man maybe) last half civilised toilet, delicious chicken stew and gauchos.

Not to mention the scrawniest roosters I have ever seen.

Actually, I do mention them because they decided dawn was at 4 am and let us all know, in no uncertain tones.

The first night, not perhaps our best night, or perhaps a portend of what was to come.

Off we went, full of energy and empty of knowledge of what to expect.

As we travelled across the black pampa; the plains of Manantiales; Vega Larga; Valle de los Patos; Valle Hermosa; crossed the Argentina/Chile border; La Vegas Del: Laguinitas: La Colorado; Matten Bonito and who knows where else 😂

I certainly cannot find them listed on a map and perhaps more worrying, the tour organisers did not have a map!!!!! But then, I guess, nor did Juan San Martin and he crossed them – so we should have felt some comfort with that knowledge.

But plough on we did…. As you will see…..

We crossed the Andes, we were high, very high.

Surrounded by mountains; Mercedario (6 700m); Aconcagua (6 960m)

We crossed the Passo del Espsinacito (4 400m); Cordon Limitrofe & La Colorado (both 3 500m)

We were out of breathe, we had nose bleeds, headaches, I even lost my appetite.

And our poot horses did not fare much better; some of them would go 20 m. and stop to catch their breathe; their sides heaving from the effort.

We watched in awe as the guanacos – local ‘llama like’ animal which believe it or not is related to the camel- raced across the face of the steep cliffs as if they had glue on their feet.

Little did we know that we too, would be, well not quite ‘racing’ but certainly traversing just such tracks. As our lovely Devon reminded us as we sheepishly navigated the tiny track, in her large Texan voice

“We are the guanacos”

It brought a smile to what had been tense faces filled with concentration and in many cases anxiety.