Galloping with Gusto in Wales

"There's no bad weather, just bad clothing."
Wish those were my wise words, but they belong to Paul Turner, proprietor of Trans Wales Trails. He gave me that bit of wisdom as I gazed at the rain streaking the windows of the breakfast room at the trekking center. Of course we were going to ride, even with the weather. This was Wales, after all, and a little rain was no excuse to cancel a good ride.

Paul handed me a dri-z-bone, one of those full length wax riding coats that cover your legs and the saddle, and off we went. Trans Wales is not for beginners. The Welsh love their sturdy, uber-four-wheel-drive cobs (smallish, usually under 16 hands) and love to use them. So Paul and I (I was the only guest during the week, but 11 guests showed up on the weekend) ker-splashed down to a 17th century castle, trotted over to a cafe for lunch, galloped up the meadows in the national park that encompasses the Black Mountains, gazed at the views of the green, green (too green, even, for the word green) valleys below.

I fell for every one of Paul's horses (I rode Dai, Snip, Myfawny, and Tomos). They know where to canter, trot, gallop and turn, and most importantly, where to turnoff to the pub (we "parked" in the car park). Over the three days, Paul and I talked about horse training, which nationalities brag about their riding ability (Americans), which are understated (Brits) and which tend to have little skill but lots of guts (Aussies). We talked about team chasing, a sport I'd never heard of until I started researching this trip. It involves teams of four galloping over cross country jumps. The team with the fastest score wins. This is Paul's favorite horse sport and why he's always ready to run and jump with riders if they have the will and the ability. He's ready to go if you are, and so are his horses (who, by the way, have auto-brakes; just a little squeeze of the reins and they'll down shift). In the summer, Trans Wales runs trips from the trekking center, which has multiple bedrooms plus full breakfast and dinner (Paul's mom Maria is the chef -- the food is hearty and delicious) through Wales to the coast. It takes five days. I plan to do that trip next.

Flashback to when I was 12 or so. My mother gave me a coffee table photo book of horses and riders in various activities. I think she thought this would substitute for the real thing, but only made my longing stronger. One of my favorite photos was of riders trekking the hillsides in some green place. As Paul and I were galloping across a particularly beautiful meadow, I flashed on that picture from the book. I'd been here before ... even if only in my adolescent imagination.