A Brisk Ride Before Lunch

Over the years I have managed to ride or drive most things with two, three or four wheels but I have problems with anything with four legs -- particularly horses. Apart from being hard to steer, the damn seat keeps going up and down uncontrollably.

I still have vivid memories of the last time I was on a horse. It was years ago, during our daughter Alison's teenage horse riding phase. Just before Christmas we spent a few days at a grazing property which specialised in riding holidays. It was near Adaminaby in the Snowy Mountains area of south-east Australia.

Alison and Christopher, her brother, went out riding each morning and afternoon. They kept urging their mother and I to go with them. "It doesn't cost any more," seemed to be their main argument. They had learned by then that when their mother said "No!" she meant it, but that when I said "No," sometimes, just occasionally, I had been known to change my mind. I did so on this occasion, to my subsequent acute discomfort.

They chatted up the young fellow in charge of the horses and arranged the quietest, most docile one for me. This big, old mare was certainly docile enough while they helped me hoist myself on board.

About a dozen of us set out shortly after ten in bright sunshine with a light breeze at our backs. Provided I didn't look down and see how far away the ground was, I almost enjoyed the experience.

However, by eleven it had clouded over, the breeze became a chill wind and, even though it was mid-December, the beginning of summer, it began snowing lightly. I hoped the change in the weather would cut short our little expedition, but no, our young guide and riding instructor seemed quite used to this sort of thing, and we persevered for some time before he decided to return to the homestead. Turning towards home, we were facing directly into the wind and swirling snow. I wasn't enjoying this and neither were the horses, particularly mine, which needed a regular application of my heels to keep going. But the situation changed dramatically when we came within sight and smell of the homestead and the stables.

Fortunately, my old nag didn't have a gallop left in her and only took off at a canter. Somehow I managed to keep my feet in the stirrups and make occasional bone-shaking contact with the saddle. Everyone else made the stable yard well before us and watched our performance open-mouthed. Fortunately, as we arrived, they were distracted by someone calling, "They've lit the fire in the lounge," as I half slid, half fell off the back of the beast.

The lounge was a big room with a large fireplace and a cheerfully blazing fire. Apart from a Swiss couple, the rest of our fellow guests were from Queensland. They had never seen snow before and were excited by their first contact with it. Large plates of steaming soup for lunch restored the holiday mood, and a table tennis tournament was organised to replace the afternoon ride.

The following morning dawned blue and clear with the main range, draped in a sparkling blanket of fresh snow, standing out on the horizon . The Queenslanders left, after a hasty breakfast, for a day in some proper snow, leaving Christopher and Alison with an unchallenged choice of the best horses. The Swiss couple and ourselves enjoyed a relaxing day of gentle sightseeing. I hadn't appreciated before just how beneficial a fall of snow can be.