On the Thursday before leaving Pokhara I was fortunate enough to go horseback riding. Krishna arranged for me to ride up a trail to Sarangkot. I woke up Thursday morning, only to be met with gray skies and rain. So much rain.
It continued to pour all morning, so I thought no horseback riding. But then, around 11AM, the sun came out and it started to get really hot and nice. At lunch, Krishna called the school so that I would know the tour was on for the afternoon.
After an amazingly delicious lunch of dal bhat and curred potato and soybeans (I can't believe how delicious soybeans are!) I was relaxing and waiting for the tour operator. Soon a short and slim Nepalese man arrived via motorcycle. He was the owner, and would drive me to the start of the tour. On the back of his motorcycle.
Now prior to this, I had never ridden on a motorcycle. I had once, when I was like, 13, ridden on the back of a small dirt bike, but never an actual motorcycle and never on a real road. If you can call the road to Lakeside real, as it is potholed and dirt/stone most of the way, with dips and bumps and turns and big muddy patches. But I pulled on my backpack and climbed behind him, and held on to the back of the seat (not him, not knowing the local tradition). And funny enough, I was a great passenger!
The trick is to go with the flow. Pay attention, lean with the bike but not too much to pull it off balance. It was great, and now I want to learn to drive a motorcycle myself (I'm looking at you, big brother Tim...)
So we drove up the road to the stables, where the actual guide was waiting with a horse. I paid the owner, and then the guide helped me climb up on the saddle. It took a couple tries, as I am apparently much weaker than before I got sick (I attribute this to not going to the gym as well as the not eating for a week), but finally I was up and over and in the saddle.
Nepalese saddles are different than western style saddles. They resemble a simpler English style saddle, and so it took me a while to get used to riding in it. The guide had me gallop up and down the road to get ready, then we set off.
I had worried that since he was not on horseback, it would be the sort of tour where he lead me the whole way. Nope. After he found a switch for me to use (he called it my cowboy stick, leading to a discussion on western movies and Clint Eastwood on the way up the hill) which I was to use to slap the horse's haunches and get him moving, we started up the path.
Sometimes he would grab the reigns and lead the horse, sometimes he would start running and tell me to slap the horse and get moving. "Gallop Tango" he would call, then whistle, (the horse's name was Tango, obviously), and off I would go. At first it was jarring, then I got the rthym of the gallop and it was amazing!
We rode upwards for about 30 min, then I had to get down to climb up the narrowest, rockiest part of the path. I didn't know how the horse got up it at all, but after a 5 minute climb, we were back on a wider, grassy path. We took a quick break, then it was back on the horse (only 2 tries and I was up this time) and back up the hill.
Now when I say up, it is true, but it was also in this back and forth sort of way. Since Sarangkot was 2000 ft above where we started, you don't just climb straight up (too steep). Instead it was a winding path up the hill. It was early afternoon and the sun was now full out, no clouds. It was hot, and the heat was making the previous rain start to evaporate, so the humidty was rising as well. I had brought a bottle of water in my backpack (which was warming up but still refreshing) but the guide (I feel so bad that I can't remember his name) didn't have anything to drink. The two waterspouts we passed were dried out, so I told him I would buy him a bottle of water at the next coldstore we passed.
See, little stores were pretty much at every other house outside Pokhara. Some of the path was road, and soon we reached a small store. I bought him a bottle of water (30 cents) and was able to buy some of the tasty chips I like so much (20 cents total for 4 bags. Yep, 5 cents a bag). We rested and drank water and I played with this tiny little cat (not a kitten, really, as it was shaped like a mature cat. A pretty egyptian style cat, just underfed), and then it was time to move on. Up the hill some more. And since we were on a wide, paved road, I was able to gallop some more.
It felt like freedom! Wind flowing through my short hair, riding the horse faster and faster until I'd hear the guide call 'Brakes' which mean I was to pull back on the reigns and slow the horse down. So I did, he caught up (running in shitty flip flops and yet so fast and energetic), and would lead me through the grassy paths, or to help keep Tango calm while cars and trucks rumbled by (on the paved road parts).
Now here is where I have to be really honest. About an hour into the ride, I was so ready to give up. The sun was baking me, my jeans were soaked in sweat which meant the dust in the air was sticking to them. My sweat soaked through my thin, white peasant top (chosen to cover and prevent burns and because it was the coolest thing for the sun), meaning that just like dirt stuck to the sweat soaked shirt and my jeans, the shirt and my jeans stuck uncomfortably to my body. My water was warm, the sun was giving me a headache, and our goal, the top, was still hours away.
Why didn't I just say "Let's turn around, head back, no worry about a refund". The sun was making my head hurt, and my legs and ass were already sore from the new style saddle. So why didn't I?
Embarrassment. I was too embarrassed to give up. I would never meet this person again, I would never have to know what he thought of the chubby Canadian girl who was so sure she could ride but then called it off not even halfway through. So for once, my anxiety at what others think did something positive. It forced me to force myself to move on. To keep going. And wow, it was an experience.
We rode up further, paying 25 rupees (30 cents CAD) for my ticket to the top of Sarangkot (foreigners pay for EVERYTHING here, and usually twice as much as locals. I would be a little upset, but even a 500 rupee ticket to, say, Durbar Square Patan is only about 5.50 CAD. So for so little we help to fund the tourism industry). One we reached the base of the summit climb, I had to get off the horse. There are a long, steep set of stone steps that take you the rest of the way.
It was here that I also fell while getting off the horse. My shoe had pushed too far into the stirrup, and as I pulled the other leg over, I couldn't get the foot caught in the stirrup out. And I fell on my ass. In front of three ladies sitting outside a cold store, who started laughing. Being the good sport that I am, I jumped up to my feet and did a comical bow, laughing myself. My ego was the only thing bruised.
I started up while my guide led the horse up the steps as well. I climbed, the view more spectacular every ten steps, for about 20 minutes. I think there was still at least another half hour of climbing steps. I knew there was a cafe at the top, as well as a lookout that allows you to get a panoramic view of Pokhara and surrounding area. I couldn't do it. This was an instance of knowing your limitations, and being realistic. I was already gasping in the thin air, so we stopped and rested on a small rooftop, I took lots of pictures, and then we were on our way down.
First, a happy looking middle aged woman came to offer cold drinks or tea and coffee, to which I declined. Then she returned with posters of a panoramic shot from the top of Sarangkot. I said no again, and I think I disappointed her. I just didn't want anything, and was saving my money for things to bring home.
We climbed back down the steps, and then it was time for me to climb back up into the saddle. In front of the same women who saw me fall. I got in on my first try! Seeing my success, they clapped for me, and I laughed and thanked them. Physical comedy translates in all languages.
Then we started down the hill, now it was later in the afternoon (I had been riding for about 3 hours now) and the temperature had cooled and it was so much more pleasant. The ride down only took about an hour and a half, I think. I was able to gallop on all the actual roads, and trotted a bit down the grassy paths. There were a few moments that spooked me; on some of the muddier parts we would be moving slowly and yet he would still slip a bit. The first time it happened it startled me, after 5 or so slips, (just his back feet) I was really nervous. But the guide just shrugged his shoulder and said "he slipped a little", and wasn't worrying at all. He was the one who really knew what he was doing, so I trusted his judgement. And I really didn't want to walk (hike) down the rest of the way.
All too soon we were back at the narrow, rocky part, and I had to climb down. I was slow, but made it down without falling (thank cod) and soon I was back up on Tango and galloping downhill. When we got to the main road, I was hoping he woud be taking me via horseback to the school. How cool would it be if the kids saw me on horseback. Many of the monklets ride horses in their village of Mustang, so it would have been great, then I could teach about horses the next day. Instead, he led me to a stable so close to Lakeside that if I had looked back and seen how close, I would have walked that way and taken a taxi (after buying sweets for the boys, of course). I didn't look, assuming we were much closer than we were (my judgement was off because the motorcycle was faster over that terrain than a car is, so I thought we hadn't driven as far as we did).
I asked him to take a picture of me on the horse, thanked him, then gave him a tip. He was wonderful and understanding and interesting to chat with, so he definitely deserved something extra! I then started the long (not that I realized it) walk back to the school.
Along the way I began to feel more and more tired, the sun had almost started to set and I didn't bring a watch with me. I had no idea how late it was, but I was determined to get back in time for supper. I pushed myself to keep going, not give up (what was I actually going to do, sleep in a rice paddy?), and soon I could see the monastery in the not too distant area.
I stopped at one of the litte stores that are everywhere in Nepal, and bought some shampoo (many of them have shelves just stuffed with all manner of toiletries and neccesities) and then some more of the yummy ABCD spicy chips.
When I arrived back at the monastery gates, I talked with the teachers and cook about my trip. I had so much fun, I loved being on horseback but even more, I was excited to be home just in time for supper. The monklets were playing in the courtyard and when I got upstairs, my watch said I had 8 minutes before the gong rang to signify meal time. I raced upstairs, locked my door (the monklets would walk in if I didn't lock it, which is normally fine but when I am getting out of the shower, no thanks!), peeled off the disgusting, sweaty, dusty, horse-smelly clothes, grabbed my towel, my new shampoo, and the ipad to play music, and showered.
The water wasn't very cold, the large black basin on the roof that stored water had sat baking in the afternoon sun and heating the water inside. I didn't mind, I washed my hair, my body, and soon it was just cool enough to be refreshing. I quickly got dressed and headed down to the eating area where the other volunteers were sitting.
By the time I sat down at the table, my whole body was sore. You use so many of your muscles while riding, not to mention the galloping on a very firm saddle, that much of me was stiff and my tailbone was super sensitive.
After supper, I moved to another table that had a padded seat. A little more releif, but the day was quickly catching up with me. I was getting very tired, and my ass was in actual pain. (How do cowboys do it? How did people ride everywhere and not be in pain all the time?)
I ended up excusing myself very early and heading to my room. I took two Tylenol PM pills, and settled in to watch some tv shows on my netbook. I was soon asleep. The day had plum tuckered me out.
Oh and the next morning? I didn't want to get out of bed. It hurt to sit up, but I made myself get ready and head down for breakfast. I managed to eat more bread than usual, as well as a bowl of the most delicious chickpeas (tiny ones still in their brown skins, with a slightly spicy sauce). I gobbled them down like no one's business.
I certainly will miss the food here.
So that is my adventure on horseback! I think I need to look into riding at home; where and when and how much it will cost. I felt so free while riding along, the horse in a mild gallop, the wind in my shaggy hair. It was such an experience.
It continued to pour all morning, so I thought no horseback riding. But then, around 11AM, the sun came out and it started to get really hot and nice. At lunch, Krishna called the school so that I would know the tour was on for the afternoon.
After an amazingly delicious lunch of dal bhat and curred potato and soybeans (I can't believe how delicious soybeans are!) I was relaxing and waiting for the tour operator. Soon a short and slim Nepalese man arrived via motorcycle. He was the owner, and would drive me to the start of the tour. On the back of his motorcycle.
Now prior to this, I had never ridden on a motorcycle. I had once, when I was like, 13, ridden on the back of a small dirt bike, but never an actual motorcycle and never on a real road. If you can call the road to Lakeside real, as it is potholed and dirt/stone most of the way, with dips and bumps and turns and big muddy patches. But I pulled on my backpack and climbed behind him, and held on to the back of the seat (not him, not knowing the local tradition). And funny enough, I was a great passenger!
The trick is to go with the flow. Pay attention, lean with the bike but not too much to pull it off balance. It was great, and now I want to learn to drive a motorcycle myself (I'm looking at you, big brother Tim...)
So we drove up the road to the stables, where the actual guide was waiting with a horse. I paid the owner, and then the guide helped me climb up on the saddle. It took a couple tries, as I am apparently much weaker than before I got sick (I attribute this to not going to the gym as well as the not eating for a week), but finally I was up and over and in the saddle.
Nepalese saddles are different than western style saddles. They resemble a simpler English style saddle, and so it took me a while to get used to riding in it. The guide had me gallop up and down the road to get ready, then we set off.
I had worried that since he was not on horseback, it would be the sort of tour where he lead me the whole way. Nope. After he found a switch for me to use (he called it my cowboy stick, leading to a discussion on western movies and Clint Eastwood on the way up the hill) which I was to use to slap the horse's haunches and get him moving, we started up the path.
Sometimes he would grab the reigns and lead the horse, sometimes he would start running and tell me to slap the horse and get moving. "Gallop Tango" he would call, then whistle, (the horse's name was Tango, obviously), and off I would go. At first it was jarring, then I got the rthym of the gallop and it was amazing!
We rode upwards for about 30 min, then I had to get down to climb up the narrowest, rockiest part of the path. I didn't know how the horse got up it at all, but after a 5 minute climb, we were back on a wider, grassy path. We took a quick break, then it was back on the horse (only 2 tries and I was up this time) and back up the hill.
Now when I say up, it is true, but it was also in this back and forth sort of way. Since Sarangkot was 2000 ft above where we started, you don't just climb straight up (too steep). Instead it was a winding path up the hill. It was early afternoon and the sun was now full out, no clouds. It was hot, and the heat was making the previous rain start to evaporate, so the humidty was rising as well. I had brought a bottle of water in my backpack (which was warming up but still refreshing) but the guide (I feel so bad that I can't remember his name) didn't have anything to drink. The two waterspouts we passed were dried out, so I told him I would buy him a bottle of water at the next coldstore we passed.
See, little stores were pretty much at every other house outside Pokhara. Some of the path was road, and soon we reached a small store. I bought him a bottle of water (30 cents) and was able to buy some of the tasty chips I like so much (20 cents total for 4 bags. Yep, 5 cents a bag). We rested and drank water and I played with this tiny little cat (not a kitten, really, as it was shaped like a mature cat. A pretty egyptian style cat, just underfed), and then it was time to move on. Up the hill some more. And since we were on a wide, paved road, I was able to gallop some more.
It felt like freedom! Wind flowing through my short hair, riding the horse faster and faster until I'd hear the guide call 'Brakes' which mean I was to pull back on the reigns and slow the horse down. So I did, he caught up (running in shitty flip flops and yet so fast and energetic), and would lead me through the grassy paths, or to help keep Tango calm while cars and trucks rumbled by (on the paved road parts).
Now here is where I have to be really honest. About an hour into the ride, I was so ready to give up. The sun was baking me, my jeans were soaked in sweat which meant the dust in the air was sticking to them. My sweat soaked through my thin, white peasant top (chosen to cover and prevent burns and because it was the coolest thing for the sun), meaning that just like dirt stuck to the sweat soaked shirt and my jeans, the shirt and my jeans stuck uncomfortably to my body. My water was warm, the sun was giving me a headache, and our goal, the top, was still hours away.
Why didn't I just say "Let's turn around, head back, no worry about a refund". The sun was making my head hurt, and my legs and ass were already sore from the new style saddle. So why didn't I?
Embarrassment. I was too embarrassed to give up. I would never meet this person again, I would never have to know what he thought of the chubby Canadian girl who was so sure she could ride but then called it off not even halfway through. So for once, my anxiety at what others think did something positive. It forced me to force myself to move on. To keep going. And wow, it was an experience.
We rode up further, paying 25 rupees (30 cents CAD) for my ticket to the top of Sarangkot (foreigners pay for EVERYTHING here, and usually twice as much as locals. I would be a little upset, but even a 500 rupee ticket to, say, Durbar Square Patan is only about 5.50 CAD. So for so little we help to fund the tourism industry). One we reached the base of the summit climb, I had to get off the horse. There are a long, steep set of stone steps that take you the rest of the way.
It was here that I also fell while getting off the horse. My shoe had pushed too far into the stirrup, and as I pulled the other leg over, I couldn't get the foot caught in the stirrup out. And I fell on my ass. In front of three ladies sitting outside a cold store, who started laughing. Being the good sport that I am, I jumped up to my feet and did a comical bow, laughing myself. My ego was the only thing bruised.
I started up while my guide led the horse up the steps as well. I climbed, the view more spectacular every ten steps, for about 20 minutes. I think there was still at least another half hour of climbing steps. I knew there was a cafe at the top, as well as a lookout that allows you to get a panoramic view of Pokhara and surrounding area. I couldn't do it. This was an instance of knowing your limitations, and being realistic. I was already gasping in the thin air, so we stopped and rested on a small rooftop, I took lots of pictures, and then we were on our way down.
First, a happy looking middle aged woman came to offer cold drinks or tea and coffee, to which I declined. Then she returned with posters of a panoramic shot from the top of Sarangkot. I said no again, and I think I disappointed her. I just didn't want anything, and was saving my money for things to bring home.
We climbed back down the steps, and then it was time for me to climb back up into the saddle. In front of the same women who saw me fall. I got in on my first try! Seeing my success, they clapped for me, and I laughed and thanked them. Physical comedy translates in all languages.
Then we started down the hill, now it was later in the afternoon (I had been riding for about 3 hours now) and the temperature had cooled and it was so much more pleasant. The ride down only took about an hour and a half, I think. I was able to gallop on all the actual roads, and trotted a bit down the grassy paths. There were a few moments that spooked me; on some of the muddier parts we would be moving slowly and yet he would still slip a bit. The first time it happened it startled me, after 5 or so slips, (just his back feet) I was really nervous. But the guide just shrugged his shoulder and said "he slipped a little", and wasn't worrying at all. He was the one who really knew what he was doing, so I trusted his judgement. And I really didn't want to walk (hike) down the rest of the way.
All too soon we were back at the narrow, rocky part, and I had to climb down. I was slow, but made it down without falling (thank cod) and soon I was back up on Tango and galloping downhill. When we got to the main road, I was hoping he woud be taking me via horseback to the school. How cool would it be if the kids saw me on horseback. Many of the monklets ride horses in their village of Mustang, so it would have been great, then I could teach about horses the next day. Instead, he led me to a stable so close to Lakeside that if I had looked back and seen how close, I would have walked that way and taken a taxi (after buying sweets for the boys, of course). I didn't look, assuming we were much closer than we were (my judgement was off because the motorcycle was faster over that terrain than a car is, so I thought we hadn't driven as far as we did).
I asked him to take a picture of me on the horse, thanked him, then gave him a tip. He was wonderful and understanding and interesting to chat with, so he definitely deserved something extra! I then started the long (not that I realized it) walk back to the school.
Along the way I began to feel more and more tired, the sun had almost started to set and I didn't bring a watch with me. I had no idea how late it was, but I was determined to get back in time for supper. I pushed myself to keep going, not give up (what was I actually going to do, sleep in a rice paddy?), and soon I could see the monastery in the not too distant area.
I stopped at one of the litte stores that are everywhere in Nepal, and bought some shampoo (many of them have shelves just stuffed with all manner of toiletries and neccesities) and then some more of the yummy ABCD spicy chips.
When I arrived back at the monastery gates, I talked with the teachers and cook about my trip. I had so much fun, I loved being on horseback but even more, I was excited to be home just in time for supper. The monklets were playing in the courtyard and when I got upstairs, my watch said I had 8 minutes before the gong rang to signify meal time. I raced upstairs, locked my door (the monklets would walk in if I didn't lock it, which is normally fine but when I am getting out of the shower, no thanks!), peeled off the disgusting, sweaty, dusty, horse-smelly clothes, grabbed my towel, my new shampoo, and the ipad to play music, and showered.
The water wasn't very cold, the large black basin on the roof that stored water had sat baking in the afternoon sun and heating the water inside. I didn't mind, I washed my hair, my body, and soon it was just cool enough to be refreshing. I quickly got dressed and headed down to the eating area where the other volunteers were sitting.
By the time I sat down at the table, my whole body was sore. You use so many of your muscles while riding, not to mention the galloping on a very firm saddle, that much of me was stiff and my tailbone was super sensitive.
After supper, I moved to another table that had a padded seat. A little more releif, but the day was quickly catching up with me. I was getting very tired, and my ass was in actual pain. (How do cowboys do it? How did people ride everywhere and not be in pain all the time?)
I ended up excusing myself very early and heading to my room. I took two Tylenol PM pills, and settled in to watch some tv shows on my netbook. I was soon asleep. The day had plum tuckered me out.
Oh and the next morning? I didn't want to get out of bed. It hurt to sit up, but I made myself get ready and head down for breakfast. I managed to eat more bread than usual, as well as a bowl of the most delicious chickpeas (tiny ones still in their brown skins, with a slightly spicy sauce). I gobbled them down like no one's business.
I certainly will miss the food here.
So that is my adventure on horseback! I think I need to look into riding at home; where and when and how much it will cost. I felt so free while riding along, the horse in a mild gallop, the wind in my shaggy hair. It was such an experience.
Namaste, friends.
....invaluable life experiences; you'll certainly never regret this whole adventure!
ReplyDelete