Tassie Tigers…..

It would appear I begin every riding blog

with the imaginative but repetitive statement

there are no words

Which is odd,

for as anyone who knows me knows,

words ‘are my thing’ 🙄

I love the sound of them

(don’t we know! I hear you say )

although I will point out that loving the sound of them is different from loving the sound of my own voice using them 😂

I love how you can play with them;

saying one thing while meaning something completely different 🙃

I love the the way they dance, black and white, across a page

the way they ‘mean’ something – as if they were musical notes.

And yet, there are times when there

Really Are No Words.

When your heart is filled to bursting,

When your eyes are mesmerised by the beauty around you

When your body is filled with such a sense of well being and energy

When your soul is at peace

(and for a short time you can imagine

‘all is well with the world’)

Our Tassie Tiger Trail was just such a time.

Across the Ditch…..


A time when eight strangers came together to the most beautiful Tasmania.

All trusting that our faith would not be misplaced,

our money not wasted;

our souls fed with the joy of riding great horses;

our bellies fed with the best of the Apple Isle and

our minds filled with joyful memories.

It goes without saying that our faith was not at all misplaced.

This was a Wonderful adventure.

Day One: New Friends……
Learning to communicate……..
…..and trust one another

It may be worth clarifying how we ‘find our horse for the week.’ Well the truth is we don’t, they kind of find us. When you go on a trail you are ‘matched’ with a horse based on –

not sure what; 😉 weight, height and temperament.


And so my horse Basheer and the ‘blurb’ in his profile?

“Every family has a gifted child. Basheer is ours.

Suffering small horse syndrome this little steed is both insecure and courageous, bold and embarrassed.

His antics are mind boggling.

He is in your face, in your space and eager to be part of everything that is going on”

Jen & Jeremy our hosts for the week had never met me, but there were some smiles about whose profile they had captured 🙄

And so to ‘what was going on’

as we set out on our 5 day adventure.

to explore the hills

 

Melaleuca everywhere

A time to reflect

There were views to absorb, canters to enjoy, laughter to share.

words? really?
patience – always……
and faithful togetherness
The “crew” day 2
no longer strangers
with a little
help from
our friends 🙂

There was wildlife to see, snakes, eagles, sugar glider, wallabies, echidnas, platypus, black cockatoos.

New friends
Still a little prickly
and old friends who had worked out the prickly bits 🙂

And there was food – home made biscuits for morning tea,

delicious salmon at the salmon farm,

fresh raspberries at the raspberry farm,

roast lamb and all the veges at our B&B

and dinners out.

 

with a laugh whether …..

At the Raspberry farm…..

Or the Salmon Farm
One of many lovely words of advice from Theresa –


Our hostess at Bonney’s Inn

Served us
such great food
and fun
with ‘heaven on earth’ offered

in her lovely home….

(as well as her philosophy 😊)
This was Them: Roland & Theresa making Bonney’s Inn beautiful
Friendships created….

And for a week, we were suspended in time;

neither wives, nor women,

nor mothers, grandmothers,

fathers or husbands,

but friends

with no agendas, no concerns, no judgements.

Open to the sun, the sky, the feel of the horses and each other.

joy

Vulnerable and Invincible at the same time.

 

The tall and short of it……
The smile …..
The exhilaration
The conversation
which didn’t always need words
down time…..
even for Daisy
The colours ……
of the sky…..
as we meandered down
along the Meander River

We laughed till we cried.

And we cried till we could laugh again.

We encouraged and learnt from each other.

We talked into the night,

we shared;

thoughts, ideas, experiences

and even clothes

as for a time I felt like I was on school camp again

but this time able to enjoy it – secure in my age (and of course no rules!!!)

Me and my other friend
did I say we were crazy? No, we were just happy.
As was Sage
Learning….
to trust….

And just when we thought it could get no better,

A day on the beach.

And honestly, truely, believe me, unless you have done this,

you will not understand

THERE ARE NO WORDS……




 

Another day – Another lesson

Life is full of surprises.ph-country_f8f492999cea1ed0c7a326c8c73c4e18

I mean, take saddles for example.

Yes, that’s what I said, saddles. They go onto the backs of horses.

Ever thought about them?   Well of course not, nor had I until last week.

Like chicken breasts from the supermarket, saddles, just ‘were’.   How many of us think about the size of the chickens that offer us these juicy large breasts – when I did, I baulked at the thought that they may be the size of dogs!!!!!

So why would we think about a saddle?   No reason of course since we don’t eat them, and most people don’t go near them in day to day life.

Except I am not not on of the ‘most people’ having decided well into my 60’s that I shall learn to ride.   Which means sitting in most instances on (in?) a saddle.   Still I gave it (the saddle, not the horse) little thought – it just Was.

Some saddles rubbed me in uncomfortable places, some buckles chaffed and left reminders long after the ride was over, but mostly they just came with the territory.

Until I changed my territory and went on a fabulous trail to the High Country (blog to follow: HiddenTrails,Globetrotting.com.au) where I met a Saddle Maker.   Not just ‘a saddle maker’ but Peter Horobin and his daughter Marlee who make saddles which are sent all over the world;  these are ‘bespoke’ saddles – think Kate Middleton Duchess of Cambridge and her bespoke dresses and you get the idea.

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note the chalk diagrams of the ever patient horse’s muscles

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More explanations about

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trees and things 🙂

Peter was amazing, teaching us about the muscles and bones around the shoulder of the horse, how saddles impinge or don’t on their movement, how poor mounting (climbing into the saddle for my non riding friends the wrong way) can bend the tree.

Yup, its okay I also didn’t know what he was talking about and heard the voice of a rather dumb naive blonde (that would be me) ask what on earth he meant.   Turns out a tree isn’t what we were seeing all around us, but rather part of the saddle, a foundational part in fact.

And of course there was a next step – a visit to his shop/workshop/sanctuary/creative studio which I did today after my third only riding lesson put on the Mornington Peninsula.

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And what a wonderland of energy, passion, skill and hospitality.   The saddles – there are SO many different types, every one hand made, so many colours, so many uses, so many textures, it was like entering Aladdin’s cave, an abundance of smell, touch, leather, style and confidence.

I wished I had a horse so I could indulge myself with a saddle.

Instead I got to polish the saddle being shipped to Western Australia to Carla – a special new friend, with whom we rode in the High Country.

Envious I am of those that ordered saddles – they are getting works of art

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Polishing Carla’s Saddle

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except you cannot see our hands doing the work 🙂

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Templates for every saddle – and don’t muddle them up!!!!!

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racing saddles – weighing almost nothing

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saddles and saddle and saddles

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colours and leathers and shapes

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Early blades to cut the leather

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Horobin legacy continues

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Peter ‘at work’

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when he is not driving from saddle to saddle

And I had NO idea that a saddle could be such a special, wonderful creation – I thought only quilts fell into that category – another lesson learnt.

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Measuring

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looking good

Photographs from the wonderful riders I shared a week with, and Peter Horobin Saddlery