HORSE RIDING IN THE MEGALONG VALLEY

On New Year's Day I attended the rodeo at Tumbarumba. Two of my uncles were there, both probably in their sixties, and not only riding horses but working as catchers in the rodeo ring. I had moved from Tumbarumba to Sydney when I was about seven years old. If I had stayed and been raised in the bush this is possibly where I would have ended up also. My grandfather, on my mother's side, had told me stories of when he was a teenager and how they had often taken pack horses and gone off into the mountains for several days. My grandmother, on my father's side was still driving her sulky into town well into her seventies. I can recall being put on a horse, a big clydesdale, when I was only a toddler; and then about fifteen years ago when I took students on a camp for several days we went for a trail ride on horses. This time the horse was in control and knew where to go, and made sure I knew that too. So I thought it was about time I 'had a go' at horse riding.

(The different terrain in the Megalong Valley)

I chose a place, via the internet, in the Megalong Valley. The Megalong Valley gets its name from an Aboriginal word believed to mean 'valley under the rock'. The first recorded European here was Thomas Jones in 1818. He was collecting bug and plant specimens and followed the Cox's River into the valley. Land was taken up here in 1838 by settlers traveling up from Camden. A shale mine was also opened here and operated by J. B. North. Today the valley is predominantly used for farming, however with its beautiful scenery, including rainforrests and rugged escarpments, it has become a popular tourist destination. The restoration of the historic Six Foot Track, which passes through the valley, has helped this popularity. The Six Foot Track was a bridle trail winding from Katoomba to Jenolan Caves. It had to be at least six foot wide to cater for two or three horses a breast, hence its name.

(Above: the early morning mist still leaving the valley; Below: horses are being saddled up ready for the day's riding)

I drove up to Blackheath the afternoon before and spent the afternoon taking photographs of the Valley. I had thought to book a day ride, but on the advice of the lady who ran the Werriberri Trail Rides I changed this to a three hour ride. On Sunday morning, after taking pictures of the mist coming up through the valley, I turned up at at the horse yards. This is a business run by Kathy Tucker and her four children on the Megalong Road. Already teenage girls were brushing the horses and getting them ready for the trail. As I had been asked on the phone how tall and how heavy I was I knew that the big horse was mine. They told me his name was 'Clydy', but I knew this was a name they made up for my benefit and he was really called "death by lightning' or 'stampede of thunder'.

(Above: my horse Clydy, alias nightmare; Below: me, ready for him)

I was decked out in a helmet and spats. Then as other people began to arrive a work experience fellow from Iceland helped me into the saddle, well I walked up the ramp and climbed on, he just held the horse still. We sat and waited while more people arrived, so far so good, but I wasn't sure Clydy hadn't fallen asleep. (I wondered whether they even had horses in Iceland, but he assured me that he was very experienced.)

(Photos above show us heading off on the track)

Finally we were all mounted up and heading off on the trail. A teenage girl led us at the front, and then we were arranged in order of 'inexperience'. In front of me was a seven year old girl and a woman who hadn't ridden before. I wasn't sure who the people behind me were as I couldn't turn around to see them. I knew there was the girl's father because he kept telling us how he had ridden all his life and mustered cattle in rough scrub. There was the fellow from Iceland, on his third day on the job; a woman who had ridden regularly up until a couple of years ago; and I was to find out later a young lady from Finland, who was a very experienced rider.

(Above: our instructor from Iceland; the expert, who spent most of the ride texting; and the girl from Finland who enjoyed 'sending the flint stones flying')

The 3 hour ride took us through some beautiful country. It also took us up and down just enough trails and mountain tracks to make it exciting. At one point we had to wait while a red-bellied black snake slide off the path. It did tend to worry the horses a little. We also managed to trot in a few places. Once I got used to this it was actually very good. The more experienced riders, that is everyone behind me, were able to hang back for a while and then canter up to join us.

(Views of the track and scenery where we were riding)

Although my horse obviously knew where it was going there were times where I would steer it this way or that, and when it tried to show me it was time to put its head down I was able to assert myself a little, probably just enough to convince myself I had some control. Still at times I could have both of my hands free to take photographs, so I wonder who was really in control. All in all it was an enjoyable experience and one I would try again. Sore. That's what they kept saying I would be the next day. No, not a bit. Towards the end of the ride my back began to rub a little against the saddle but the next day no aches or pains at all.....so maybe I was a natural, or maybe I was just doing it wrong.

(Back at the OK corral....or at least back at the corral OK)

(Me, looking like a nineteen century postman)

(The seven year old girl, who was only put in the group to show me up)

(Footnote: to contact the Werriberri Trail Rides ring (02) 4787 9171 and ask for Kathy)