Post by racaille on Oct 4, 2010 2:53:59 GMT
There's a wild wind blowing so I can't sleep and I'm already on my second cuppa so I thought I'd do another of my long, long posts about my day yesterday ;D
First, a technical point about French terms: hacking out is une balade, even if it lasts a couple of hours, but a randonnée involves long distance. It can be done on foot, bike or horseback, it is a general term for covering a fair bit of ground.
As you may remember, I was due to meet members of the Association Départementale de Tourisme Equestre en Vaucluse (ADTEV) who were riding over the mountains to my neck of the woods. I didn't want to do that rando as I know the path over here from Bonnieux too well, but agreed to meet them for lunch.
It was a warm, sunny day, but there was a strong wind and it was a big hunting day. The woods around my house were being beaten for wild boar and there were hunters with what sounded like elephant guns everywhere. I would not normally ride out on a day like that.
P was utterly freaked. But I had no choice but to set off and decided the best plan was to get off my hill as fast as possible, which meant going straight down a very steep slope - you can only slither down it. I was walking P in hand as he was being pretty silly and I could not have ridden him down the slope anyway. The hunting dogs round here all wear big bells on their collars so that the hunters don't shoot them when they hear an animal rustling in the undergrowth (although it happens often enough) so I tied one of my dogs' bells on P, who was not impressed.
So we set off, jingling away and me shouting at the top of my voice and got safely down the slope although I confess I was very nervous and P was sweating up a storm. I decided to stay on foot until he calmed down, especially as we had a narrow pathway to negotiate with a sheer drop on one side as we trudged down to the Posh Village. P was naughty and was prancing about, not walking nicely behind me as he should, but we got through the Posh Village without mishap, with me walking wide in the road, swinging my crop - heavy side out - to encourage cars to give us a wide berth.
After about an hour I decided it was safe to mount up. I trotted P fast up a long hill and then put him into a canter along a vineyard and that settled him down. We headed into more woods and then I had to get off again to lead him down a narrow pathway, meeting some young boys with guns and dogs, so I was glad I was on foot.
I was very annoyed to find that one of my usual paths had been blocked off by a new farm building, which involved a lost half an hour as I tried to find another path.
Eventually we made it into the narrow valley path that leads over the mountains and, exactly where they said they'd be I found my new buddies. They greeted me with such kindness and as soon as I'd sorted P, thrust a glass of wine into my hand and took me on a tour of the people. I was very glad to find a girl I know slightly from the Chevauchée there with her little coloured pony, who had had a bad accident and severed a tendon a year or so back. With care and a miracle, the pony is sound again and L and I chatted for ages and agreed to meet up as she lives not too far from me.
I lost brownie points for having just a cereal bar and an apple as my picnic, when everyone else was sharing tortillas and clafoutis - and the wine was flowing! But I gained points for arriving on horseback - they thought I'd drive over - and since P was showing off horribly, they thought at first that he was entire. And one guy immediately identified him as Iberique rather than Camaguais.
There were 18 people there and I had a look over their horses. None of them was especially big and they all had one thing in common: good legs and feet. Rando horses are not like endurance horses - they are not especially built for speed but for stamina. They may cover 40km in a day over stones and rocks, and the next day and the next ... five days is a common excursion. There were a number of arab x, a criollo, a couple of Camarguais but most were small 'mongrel' horses like P with legs of iron.
The riders were a varied bunch, about equal numbers of men and women, ranging in age from 15 to a couple of chaps who were perhaps in their seventies. Some wore helmets, but not many, and riding gear included a few guys in Camargue trousers (actually very fetching), jeans and full chaps but most people were in breeches and half chaps or boots. (I feel the need for some Spanish boots - or at least some decent short boots as mine, although very comfortable with normal wear, just don't have thick enough soles for walking over rocks. My poor feet are on fire now
)
We had a lovely picnic together, in the shade of the trees as the sun was hot, then they set off north and I set off east again. P was thirsty (I'd taken him a load of carrots in a handybag - much recommended gear! ) and I found a little stream for him. But he's such a plonker - I expected him to get in it to drink but no, he knelt down in front of it! Bizarre horse!
It was easier coming back as the evening hunters had mostly not yet come out but the Posh Village was hell! It was swarming with tourists. I took P to the fountain to drink but it's all so chi-chi now that it has been cobbled, with recessed lights, and P had great difficulty walking on them so we gave up. I thought how sad it was that the former animal water trough was now behind a barrier to stop cars parking there (it didn't stop us though) and was now impossible for animals to approach. I took great delight in getting through the barrier which now encircles a huge field in front of the chateau so that I could cross it. We used to canter across it but now it is 'reserved' for tourists. There were some kids flying kites but P was a star.
We were both tired by now, we'd been moving for five hours by then. I say moving as I wasn't riding all the time - I reckon I walked for a good two hours, all told. After the early morning silliness (probably as much due to a bucket of carrots and a bellyful of green grass - yes, we have a little in my 'grass' field now, yay! - as the wind and the hunters) P had resumed his perfect behaviour and walked out well ridden but didn't crowd me when led.
But I was mean and took the shortest way home, which meant going up the very steep slope to my hill. P made a good effort and puffed up to the top so I rewarded him by getting off and loosening everything for him. He was very glad to see Mr T again, who had spent the day on his own wandering at will through the leccy fence to eat my newly planted bamboo.
P was hungry and thirsty and I was jolly pleased that he still had all his shoes - he is due to be shod on Friday and they are nearly eight weeks old - entirely normal for a horse with good feet down here. So I quickly washed him off and greased his feet, then let him at his hay bale after a good long drink. He will have today off, he's earned it.
I am still grinning. It was such a good day! P was wonderful - how I adore that little horse! - and my new chums were fantastic! They have already sent me the program for the coming year. There is a day rando every two weeks, but obviously not everyone gets to each one, but I'd like to do the next one as it is on the northern side of the Luberon, touring the water cisterns hewn from rock that used to irrigate the vineyards, very picturesque. They do involve early starts though: I reckon I'd have to be loading P at 6am, in the dark, and we shall see how that goes ......
Later on there are also longer outings, where they ride from gite to gite. I said I was too old to camp in the open and they looked at me as though I was deranged. They all like their creature comforts and that involves a hot shower, a glass of wine and a good meal!
Yay! I feel so happy! ;D
First, a technical point about French terms: hacking out is une balade, even if it lasts a couple of hours, but a randonnée involves long distance. It can be done on foot, bike or horseback, it is a general term for covering a fair bit of ground.
As you may remember, I was due to meet members of the Association Départementale de Tourisme Equestre en Vaucluse (ADTEV) who were riding over the mountains to my neck of the woods. I didn't want to do that rando as I know the path over here from Bonnieux too well, but agreed to meet them for lunch.
It was a warm, sunny day, but there was a strong wind and it was a big hunting day. The woods around my house were being beaten for wild boar and there were hunters with what sounded like elephant guns everywhere. I would not normally ride out on a day like that.
P was utterly freaked. But I had no choice but to set off and decided the best plan was to get off my hill as fast as possible, which meant going straight down a very steep slope - you can only slither down it. I was walking P in hand as he was being pretty silly and I could not have ridden him down the slope anyway. The hunting dogs round here all wear big bells on their collars so that the hunters don't shoot them when they hear an animal rustling in the undergrowth (although it happens often enough) so I tied one of my dogs' bells on P, who was not impressed.
So we set off, jingling away and me shouting at the top of my voice and got safely down the slope although I confess I was very nervous and P was sweating up a storm. I decided to stay on foot until he calmed down, especially as we had a narrow pathway to negotiate with a sheer drop on one side as we trudged down to the Posh Village. P was naughty and was prancing about, not walking nicely behind me as he should, but we got through the Posh Village without mishap, with me walking wide in the road, swinging my crop - heavy side out - to encourage cars to give us a wide berth.
After about an hour I decided it was safe to mount up. I trotted P fast up a long hill and then put him into a canter along a vineyard and that settled him down. We headed into more woods and then I had to get off again to lead him down a narrow pathway, meeting some young boys with guns and dogs, so I was glad I was on foot.
I was very annoyed to find that one of my usual paths had been blocked off by a new farm building, which involved a lost half an hour as I tried to find another path.
Eventually we made it into the narrow valley path that leads over the mountains and, exactly where they said they'd be I found my new buddies. They greeted me with such kindness and as soon as I'd sorted P, thrust a glass of wine into my hand and took me on a tour of the people. I was very glad to find a girl I know slightly from the Chevauchée there with her little coloured pony, who had had a bad accident and severed a tendon a year or so back. With care and a miracle, the pony is sound again and L and I chatted for ages and agreed to meet up as she lives not too far from me.
I lost brownie points for having just a cereal bar and an apple as my picnic, when everyone else was sharing tortillas and clafoutis - and the wine was flowing! But I gained points for arriving on horseback - they thought I'd drive over - and since P was showing off horribly, they thought at first that he was entire. And one guy immediately identified him as Iberique rather than Camaguais.
There were 18 people there and I had a look over their horses. None of them was especially big and they all had one thing in common: good legs and feet. Rando horses are not like endurance horses - they are not especially built for speed but for stamina. They may cover 40km in a day over stones and rocks, and the next day and the next ... five days is a common excursion. There were a number of arab x, a criollo, a couple of Camarguais but most were small 'mongrel' horses like P with legs of iron.
The riders were a varied bunch, about equal numbers of men and women, ranging in age from 15 to a couple of chaps who were perhaps in their seventies. Some wore helmets, but not many, and riding gear included a few guys in Camargue trousers (actually very fetching), jeans and full chaps but most people were in breeches and half chaps or boots. (I feel the need for some Spanish boots - or at least some decent short boots as mine, although very comfortable with normal wear, just don't have thick enough soles for walking over rocks. My poor feet are on fire now
)We had a lovely picnic together, in the shade of the trees as the sun was hot, then they set off north and I set off east again. P was thirsty (I'd taken him a load of carrots in a handybag - much recommended gear! ) and I found a little stream for him. But he's such a plonker - I expected him to get in it to drink but no, he knelt down in front of it! Bizarre horse!
It was easier coming back as the evening hunters had mostly not yet come out but the Posh Village was hell! It was swarming with tourists. I took P to the fountain to drink but it's all so chi-chi now that it has been cobbled, with recessed lights, and P had great difficulty walking on them so we gave up. I thought how sad it was that the former animal water trough was now behind a barrier to stop cars parking there (it didn't stop us though) and was now impossible for animals to approach. I took great delight in getting through the barrier which now encircles a huge field in front of the chateau so that I could cross it. We used to canter across it but now it is 'reserved' for tourists. There were some kids flying kites but P was a star.
We were both tired by now, we'd been moving for five hours by then. I say moving as I wasn't riding all the time - I reckon I walked for a good two hours, all told. After the early morning silliness (probably as much due to a bucket of carrots and a bellyful of green grass - yes, we have a little in my 'grass' field now, yay! - as the wind and the hunters) P had resumed his perfect behaviour and walked out well ridden but didn't crowd me when led.
But I was mean and took the shortest way home, which meant going up the very steep slope to my hill. P made a good effort and puffed up to the top so I rewarded him by getting off and loosening everything for him. He was very glad to see Mr T again, who had spent the day on his own wandering at will through the leccy fence to eat my newly planted bamboo.
P was hungry and thirsty and I was jolly pleased that he still had all his shoes - he is due to be shod on Friday and they are nearly eight weeks old - entirely normal for a horse with good feet down here. So I quickly washed him off and greased his feet, then let him at his hay bale after a good long drink. He will have today off, he's earned it.
I am still grinning. It was such a good day! P was wonderful - how I adore that little horse! - and my new chums were fantastic! They have already sent me the program for the coming year. There is a day rando every two weeks, but obviously not everyone gets to each one, but I'd like to do the next one as it is on the northern side of the Luberon, touring the water cisterns hewn from rock that used to irrigate the vineyards, very picturesque. They do involve early starts though: I reckon I'd have to be loading P at 6am, in the dark, and we shall see how that goes ......
Later on there are also longer outings, where they ride from gite to gite. I said I was too old to camp in the open and they looked at me as though I was deranged. They all like their creature comforts and that involves a hot shower, a glass of wine and a good meal!
Yay! I feel so happy! ;D
More like wet and mis... 
for so much hard work we thank ye!!
the summers are glorious and roasting hot in Provence!!! 
