Riding Lessons in the High Desert

Raz'z First Jump

When people think of horseback riding in Wyoming, they probably think of cowboys and cattle drives, but I drug myself out of bed before sunrise last Saturday to join my friend Meredith’s cross country jumping expedition in Worland, Wyoming. Worland has a population of just over 5000 people and is home to one of the only government funded cross country jumping courses in the country. In the middle of the high desert sits a series of rustic, yet gorgeous jumps for beginner through advanced level riders.

Raz, my handsome roan quarter horse, was dwarfed by the gorgeous thoroughbreds on scene. I had cobbled together my gear, trading in the full chaps that I use on the trail for half chaps and a bulky violet chest protector and borrowed black velvet covered helmet. Meredith even provided me with a set of paddock boots just for the occasion-hers. Apparently my finely tooled Tony Lamas wouldn’t cut it on the cross country course, but as awkward as all the new gear seemed, I recognized the importance when I eyed the “beginner” level jumps.

The deal about falling off on one of your first jumps during a riding lesson is this-its great. I’d never fallen off my horse before. While this might be a feather in the cap for some, I had always felt anxiety. I imagined the following: A. being terribly injured B. Raz would run away and be impossible to catch C. I would be afraid to get back in the saddle. D. Everyone would laugh at me and ride away E. none of the above

Raz Jumping the Railroad Tie After the Fall

E. never really crossed my mind, but what happened was this. We tried jumping over a railroad tie and I didn’t give Raz enough direction, especially since he is asked to walk over logs and such on the trail. He took a strong left and I took a strong right and landed on the ground. Meredith had said, “if you fall off, try not to land in the cactus!” earlier on and I had stored this bit of info in the back of my mind to be used for just this occasion. I landed half on my feet and half on my butt, and my trusty steed stopped quickly, mildly bewildered, and looked at me with what I could swear was embarrassment for the both of us… But by the end of the hour and a half long lesson, we were getting it and Jen, one of Meredith’s very talented clients, took some time to take pictures of our horse riding adventure.  Raz and I are officially hooked on cross country jumping and I’m eyeing our brochure to see what kind of exotic locations can offer more instruction for this inspired beginner.

Wyoming Pack Trip 2011

North Fork Falls Wyoming

Its finally summer in Wyoming and time for our annual pack trip into the mountains.  Besides horseback riding in California this past July and a possible trip to Crete in the near future, Bayard and Mel have been kind enough to give me time away from Equitours Corporate Headquarters to adventure into the wilderness with my family and friends.  There’s a reason why so many people return to the Bitterroot Ranch year after year.  Riding vacations in the mountains here are definitely something to write home about, like meadows filled with wildflowers, roaring rivers and glacier streams, campfire stories, and horses grazing peacefully in the evening light.  There’s something about a pack trip and a quiet escape into what is to us, reality and what visitors consider “unreal.”  And of course, there’s always the unforeseen adventure…

Before I started working for Equitours, I owned a little restaurant in town.  This kept me very busy, but I would occasionally hire out as a trail cook on pack trips so that I could get into the mountains in the summer. One time, early

Family Pack Trip

in the morning, I was cooking bacon while the rest of our guests slumbered peacefully in their frost covered tents.  The daybreak was gorgeous and I was enjoying the quiet when suddenly all of the mules turned, like sentries guarding camp, to look West.  Seconds later the roar of a bear filled the valley and I immediately dropped all of the fragrant slices of bacon back onto the griddle and ran for my bear spray and the lead wrangler.  As I rounded the corner, he was just coming out of the tent clad only in his skivvies, trying to pull on blue jeans while balancing both his bear spray and his rifle.  We were more concerned about the bear than our mutual embarrassment, but soon found that the roar originated over a mile away and the sound had reverberated through the quiet valley as if they were standing just outside of camp (while I never wanted to see a bear close up, I didn’t mind watching two large grizzlies interact through binoculars from the safe distance of a knoll just above camp).   I finally got my heart rate back to normal and the bacon nestled safely into a

Pack Trip 2008

Riding Raz and Dylan at North Fork Falls

warm Dutch Oven, and the wrangler and I have been dating ever since…

While Equitours can’t promise grizzly sightings and whirlwind romances to all of our clients, we can promise a longstanding and everlasting romance with the west for those of you who might be interested in a wilderness pack trip adventure.  Have a look at Wyoming’s Washakie Trail, The Navajo Land Ride in Utah, and The Grand Canyon’s Winter Pastures in Arizona.  Bayard also has us exploring rides for the 2012 catalog.  California’s Sierra Nevadas, Hawaii, and the coast of Southern Oregon seem to hold a lot of promise, and we hope to create some new riding vacations that offer the same level of adventure and quality that our clients have come to expect and appreciate over the years.

A Letter From Margaret Edwards

Meadow with Wild Flowers-Tuscany

While awaiting a report from Sarah and Mary Alice, this letter was delivered to Nancie from Margaret Edwards, a long time client of Equitours and a participant on one of our most recent equestrian vacations: Discover Tuscany.   Her letter captures the essence of horseback riding in Italy far better than our own literature, and she has given us permission to share excerpts of this letter with you.

…I’m pleased to tell you that my two weeks in Italy were all that I had hoped and, at certain moments, even better than I had let myself imagine.  The weather was perfection–most of the time it was sunny, breezy and cool.  No bugs, no heat, no dismal cloud cover or chilliness.  I needed my windbreaker in the mornings but was in shirtsleeves during the afternoons and wore my light coat at night out to the Florentine restaurants and walking back to the hotel at near midnight.   Yet I had intimations that Italy could be very hot.  There was a certain look to the way the plaster in fresco surfaces was deteriorating–and there was a distinct odor to the pavings inside light-deprived cloisters–that made me aware I was fortunate in my timing.  Other tourists were determined to be fortunate also, and to the astonishment of most store clerks I asked, the streets of Medieval hill towns along the RR line from Florence and of the city of Florence itself were jammed with tourists.  The “high season” used to start in late April, but it was “full on” this year by April 8.  But no fact of my being part of the hoard could cloud my enjoyment of all that I did and saw.

Sunset in the Valley Near the Farmhouse

During my week of riding in Tuscany, of course, I was not surrounded by crowds.  As you know, I was part of a small group of guests and pleased to be in the company of Jenny and her staff.  Jenny, let me say right off,  was the best leader of a ride I’ve ever experienced–and my experience of such rides is by now fairly extensive, since ”Discover Tuscany” was my 7th taken under the auspices of Equitours.

The horses were lovely and very well cared for.  There were 15 of them–plenty to choose from.  I was given a sweet, tall, grey Polish warmblood named “Merlino” who was forward-going but not a bit spooky.  We rode English tack.  The other women (as I think you know, my group was all women, mostly middle-aged and I was the eldest by about 10 years) were mostly horse owners themselves, and we got along well. ..  Exceptions were made gracefully whenever called for, and there was no shoe-horning everyone into the same schedule.  Jenny gave us suggestions, and never orders.

I rode with the other 4 women and each of them loved her mount as I did mine.  We were skilled enough together to keep a good pace and to burst into trots or canters whenever the terrain allowed.  Traveling down the long lanes between the olive trees and along the dirt lanes meant we had plenty of good footing.  The horses walked, of course, as we went steeply uphill onto ridgelines and passed ruined castles and admired wonderful views.  Flowers were blooming on the fruit trees, festoons of wisteria abounded, camellias flourished beside tulips and daffodils.  There were wild hedges of white heather plants, which, when cut and dried, were woven, we were told, into hearth brooms.  On various patios and in stone courtyards and near many doorways, I saw potted lemon trees heavy with lemons.  And during my next week in Florence, I delighted in the fact the stone streets were ornamented with pots and pots full of azaleas and hydrangeas.

Riding Near the Vineyards

Oh yes…the food  was terrific–I have to mention that. The coffee, strong everywhere in Italy, was a daily pleasure.  I never found myself drinking watery coffee!  I also amazed myself by not gaining a pound, despite my eating plenty of delicious pasta and risotto, having a dessert each night, and downing each day several glasses of the local wine (we were looking out onto the Chianti hills) as well as a nightly pick-me-ups of Limoncello.

It’s really all too much for me to put into words.  I took way too many photos and purchased way too many postcards.  Even now, more than a week after my return, I am still there at Rendola and in Florence in my dreams.  Each night, it’s as if I’m trying to digest a very hearty meal of many courses, my mind has been inundated with such a deluge of imagery and sensation…