 Getting to know each other
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To my Fellow Trekkers - it was an honour and a privilege meeting and getting to know you all, I hope we can all meet again sometime, maybe for a 10 year anniversary reunion?? In the meantime we must keep in touch by e-mail.
To Justin and Kevin - a thousand thanks, without your expertise, knowledge, input and enthusiasm the whole trek could have gone flat. You made it happen. Thanks.
To the Kirks and the Gunns - many thanks for your warm hospitality, it was an honour to be invited to your homes and much appreciated.
To the staff at the Hurunui Hotel, especially Andrew, and "Grizz" at the door - thank you from this satisfied Aucklander for all you had to put up with from all of us. Just remember to keep looking at the Canterbury Draught poster on your wall and note that it takes 4 Cantabrians to put 1 Aucklander down.
To Rob and Mandy, thank you for having the idea, the vision, the organisation and for infusing your enthusiasm to all who come in contact with you.
Last but not least to New Zealand (GODZONE) and in particular the South Island, sometimes known as the "Mainland", thanks for being here for us to enjoy.
I had the time of my life.
Dear All,
Well I’m back from my 10 day horse trek, safely, in one piece, refreshed and surprisingly fit, not tired or sore at all. I took plenty of photos and made some very good and I hope long lasting friends - and NO, I did not fall off my horse. I recommend this holiday to anyone. (I got back last Sunday night 24th February, but was busy catching up at work etc..). For more information on the trek and the routes check the following web site. www.horseback.nz I did the eight-day nine-night, “Hurunui” Horse Trek. (From 15-24 February 2002)
WOW!! IT WAS FANTASTIC, just as I expected and much more, extremely invigorating. I loved every minute of it, from the first quiet, get to know each other, “Dinner” we all had together with Mandy and Rob Stanley (great couple) at the Hurunui Hotel to the last raucous, farewell “Dinner” we all had, again at the Hurunui Hotel. The horses were great, the scenery varied and unbelievably beautiful and the company very congenial. New Zealand truly is “Godzone” (God’s own country).
I have ridden a horse like I never knew I could. Down very very steep slopes, up impossible climbs, wading through icy cold rivers and lakes full of boulders, crossing hundreds of streams, dodging branches and trees, walking on rocks, riding through 400 year old beech forests, trotting amongst tussocks, and cantering on lush green pastures. WOW!! The scenery was spectacular. We walked our horses most of the time, sometimes we trotted and sometimes we cantered. We went from sea level to well over 1,000 meters and down again several times. Our horses had “Western” style saddles and saddle bags so jumping was out of the question really, but we did or hop over small streams, fallen logs etc..
I was not sore at all. Only the first night when I went to bed I got cramp in my calf and inner thigh muscles. Do you know how difficult it is getting out of a zipped up sleeping bag in pitch darkness when you have cramp??? I can laugh now but at the time it was not funny, so the next night I stretched well and was I OK after that.
Although we were all fitted out with “Dryzabone” long oilskin raincoats rolled up in a “swag” and tied to our saddles, we did not encounter one drop of rain during the entire trip. The weather was glorious. I tell you Rob and Mandy run a very efficient operation where every thing is carefully thought out and planned well in advance. (The only slight down-side was the number of omnipresent “Sandflies” that bit like mosquitoes- Still only the real paradise is perfect).
We spent three days sleeping in sheep shearer's quarters on Stations (large farms - 18,000 acres) where we also had great home-cooked meals with the family in their homestead. We camped by a lake for 3 days without seeing another soul except for the 8 of us. On the way back we spent one night in a wool shed. (After the first 5 minutes we hardly noticed the smell).
I swam in Lake Mason (Brrrr) every morning and we bathed in a hot thermal pool then dived into the icy Hurunui River, (even more Brrrrrr). We did some trout fishing but did not catch anything. Although Murray claimed he caught a German observer in a tree with his back swing. It was great. The best of it was that most of the eight of us had never set eyes on each other (except for one guy and his girlfriend and the two guides who knew each other of course) and probably we will never meet again. Total strangers at the start and great friends at the end. On the trek you could be yourself, no baggage, you did not have to “behave” or “pretend”. You were you, if they liked you all well and good, if they did not, who cares, you might never see them again. It was a great feeling, like a weight off your shoulders. You were not judged or judging.
One of the guides, Kevin, was a retired and very knowledgeable botanist. He was 4 months older than me, and he drove the Nissan Patrol four wheel drive vehicle with all our gear and met us every night at the different stops we had. He did the cooking when we camped – and a great cook he was.
The oldest on horseback by far was me at 60; I was also the only married person. The next oldest was Sandy, a delightful petite Scottish 40 year old lady. She is a vegetarian landscape architect who lives in Northern Ireland and has a great sense of humour.
Then there was Olaf a 36 year old German Lufthansa Pilot, very serious (at first) well organised and Germanic in a very nice way. He was a great companion, he fell in love with his horse aptly named “Diesel” and video filmed him at every occasion while talking to him in German.
Steve is a 36 year old, 6’4” Farmer from Somerset England and very laid back. Steve is a man of few but well chosen words and his broad accent was a delight to hear.
Then there was our guide Justin, just 28, with a much older head on his shoulders. He is a very exuberant, energetic and dedicated young man, full of information and great with the horses.
Murray 30 was the next oldest, also tall, 6’2”, Murray is very English, a British Army Captain in the “Queen's Royal Hussars”. He drove tanks in Northern Ireland and then Kosovo and occasionally plays polo. He was a great raconteur and had a keen sense of fun. I have to thank Murray for handing me the best beer I have ever had. It was after a particularly long hard and hot days trek, on day ‘two’, I was in the shower absorbing the hot water on my battered body, when Murray’s hand came through the shower curtain with a can of ice cold beer. “Here” he said “I think you might enjoy this”, and I did.
The baby of the group was Claire a wonderful vivacious 23 year old six footer also from Somerset and the girlfriend of Steve. Her accent was not so broad but equally refreshing. Claire is a nanny by profession and although the youngest, is a great and caring girl who knows her mind and is not afraid to speak it.
Each person on the trek had his/her own personality and we all fitted in very well with each other, we all had a sense of humour, some more than others and we all got on very well with each other, sometimes feeding off each other to cause great mirth and merriment. At the end of the day age had nothing to do with it. The oldest person they have ever had on this trek was a 74 year old man, so I can still hope to make it in 15 years time to break the record. Anyone care to join me??
I was probably the best rider of the lot as far as a classical style goes, but in the bush, crossing rivers and climbing mountains, after 8 days in the saddle for an average of 6 hours a day we all end up with the same style and it is quite different to what you are taught in a "manege" at riding school. We wore our stirrups very long and always freed our feet when crossing rivers, in case the horse fell you could jump clear. Going down steep slopes you held the reigns in one hand very loosely and held your other hand out for balance. You let the horse have its head and trusted (sometimes you prayed) that the horse knew what it was doing. Anyway in some case you were leaning so far back standing in the stirrups and almost lying on it’s rump that you could not see where the horse was putting it’s feet. Going up hill you were again standing in your stirrups leaning forward with your head on one side of the horse's neck, reigns in both hands, like the takeoff on a very high jump, except the horse kept going up and up and up, kind of scrambling up like a goat.
My horse was a mare (16.2 hands) called MAC, and when I asked why a mare would be called Mac, the answer was that she was built like a Mac truck. She was great, an ex pacer, and sometimes instead of trotting she would pace at great speed. It was a very comfortable and novel way to ride for me, something I had never done before. I tried to get her to do it at my command but I could not figure out which button to push to do it consistently. Sometimes she would pace and sometimes trot. I preferred pacing, or cantering, as trotting was uncomfortable with such long stirrups, chaps around your legs for protection, bouncing saddlebags, reigns in one hand and a camera in the other, but Mac had a mind of her own. She and I often disagreed. Here was this horse saying “Look Mate I’ve done it this way a hundred times before” and I was saying “Well Madam, you’ll have to do it differently this time”. Sometimes I called her “Madam Mac” and patted her on the neck and at other times “Lady Muck” and scolded her.
I tell you it was the best holiday I’ve had since my honeymoon, over 30 years ago and definitely the best holiday I’ve ever had alone. No doubt I'll tell you more in due course as I remember more details, meanwhile enjoy some of the photos. (I took 10 films, that’s over 260 photos).
All the best, love and regards to all.
Johnny