trekking

"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.