Submitted by: Heather Dostine. Auckland, New Zealand

 

Well for the first time in my life I went on a horse trek in the weekend.  Entertaining is one word, hilarious another, frightening a definitive.

To start, you enter into a world of absolute mayhem.  Horses are being tacked up, people are mounting and dismounting in the same area and total confusion reigns while staff try to pair up horses with riders.  (A large adult on a Shetland pony is not a good look, though the falling factor becomes so much less frightening!)

 

As I had only had a few lessons at this point in the safety of an arena, this was a 'big' adventure for me. Let loose into the unknown!  And my horse?  Kimmi the Clydesdale, and what a big girl she is too!  Quite young at 7 years old, a lovely black coat with white blaze and socks.  The sheer size of the stirrups takes you to a whole new thought level and mounting such a beast?  You feel like day one on your first lesson, goodness me it's a long way down!

 

I found out that riding in an arena and riding on a trek are two totally different things, after I had been on the trek! Trekking horses generally get pointed in the direction and go, whether you have asked them to or not.  This has new meaning on a horse the size of a Clydesdale.  I don't care if you're Arnold Schwarzenegger you're not stopping this girl by sheer force.  In fact the only way to stop Kimmi was to turn her round and point her at food.  Tree, bush or grass she really didn't care.  I also found out that traditional riding aids don't work and that a loose rein is best and then Clydies will just lope along at their own speed, or as slow or fast as the leading horse.

 

Kimmi is a character and had a specific trait I found out about as we set off.  Kimmi likes to be at the front.  Stopping her from heading off with other treks was the first time I used the turn around method, but I also found out pretty quickly that if you made the terrible mistake of letting other horses slip by,  she would suddenly charge off after them.  She would lift her head from eating grass or munching on a branch, turn on a dime and be off at a trot or fast walk to get into the lead.  The first time she did this I was very grateful for the large saddle with plenty to hold onto and that I was looking the right way.  If I hadn't, I have the feeling I would've been left behind on the ground.  Her whole attitude to other horses being in front was - "How dare you, I'm the leader!"

 

During the trek I was nervous, to say the least, and quite apprehensive being on such a large horse, so took it easy walking most of the way, but with a little trot in some sections.  Not that little is the word for a Clydesdales.  Dinner plates come to mind for the size of their hooves and thunder for the sound of an oncoming Clydesdale at Canter!  You also don't want to be too close behind a Clydesdale in the mud, unless of course you feel the need for a full body mudpack to be applied at speed.

 

The most entertaining section of the trek however was when we came to a steep 'V' shaped gorge.  This of course is a new concept to a person just starting to ride.  You don't encounter hills or dips in an arena.  It's flat.  So you learn to counteract the downward slope or hill by shifting your body weight to aid the horse and stop yourself from sliding down their neck or over their hindquarters to the ground!

 

This particular slope was quite steep, made of slippery clay, with a small wooden bridge at the bottom and then quick turn up a steep hill on the other side.   It had been raining quite substantially.  Slippery clay with deep skidmarks and ruts going down the hill wasn't suggestive of a lot of grip, I thought to myself, as Kimmi and I waited for others to catch up before we descended.  She was enjoying her favourite activity, eating.  She was enjoying it so much that neither she nor I saw that the other clydesdale Missi and the trek leader were making their way down the hill. 

I had made the terrible mistake of turning her to the grass at the top of the hill.  This meant that our backs were turned to the others in the group.  I looked around to see what was going on and my first thought was  "Oh no."  At this point Kimmi also realised what was going on and we were off!  Spinning around (luckily I was almost turned in that direction anyway) we charged down the gully.  I had time to yell, "Coming through," just as she bounced Missy out of the way and barged her way at a skiddy trot down the steep slope taking the lead from the trek leader's horse.  She went over the bridge and cantered up the other side stopping only when I managed to point her at a lot of grass, otherwise we would've been off down the long straight (very muddy) track. 

 

I had survived my first trek.  I have been on a few since then and still have to get used to being in the great outdoors, out of my comfort zone of the arena.  None of the other horses I have had a chance to ride on a trek, have come across as such a character as Kimmi.  I look forward to another day when I can ride her again.  Now that I know a bit more about her and am more comfortable with riding I feel I can let her be herself.

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