Horse Riding

 

There are moments in life when you feel free. Often they happen when you travel, which might explain why so many of us keep pouring all our hard earned cash into the next trip, thirsty for the next mind-blowing epiphany or adrenaline filled rush. For me, one of those moments happened when I was riding along the beach on the North-Eastern Coast of Australia.

 

I’d arranged to go horse riding on Seven Mile beach, a long stretch of sand 25 minutes drive south of Byron Bay. Here, the much more relaxed Ballina Council allows a range of four-legged and four-wheeled beach activities during the less crowded weekdays. My beach ride with Seahorses riding school includes pick up and drop off from Byron Bay, lunch with tropical fruit, and perhaps the biggest draw card of all- the chance to swim in the surf with the horses. Riders have the opportunity to take the ride at their own rate. Novices and those a bit unsure of themselves in the saddle can happily walk the horses along the beach; whilst more experienced riders have the opportunity to set their own pace.

I've been assigned a black mare called Jade, and as Jo, the owner, had gives me a leg up into the saddle, she mentions that my stead has a bit of spark. Once we reach the beach, I set off with another rider ahead of the pack at a brisk trot. After we're a safe distance from the others, I give Jade all the rein I can, entwine my fingers in her glossy mane and lean forward. I don't even need to touch her with my heels to get her going. Jade's not a spark but a whole box of fireworks. She's off and running. And I'm loving it.

At a gallop we hug the shoreline, eroded bone-coloured sand dunes frosted with green straw grass to our left and turbulent metallic blue surf to our right. Despite our fast pace, my mare doesn't like getting her hooves wet and sashays sideways each time the tide laps in, leaving a snake trail of hoof prints in the sand behind us. It seems as if there's not a soul in sight. No parents running after little kids with tubes of fluorescent zinc, no backpackers taking surf lessons, and no rainbow beach umbrellas cart wheeling towards us. At best, I think I can see ant-sized people scattered a few kilometres down the beach.


It's pure exhilaration and only the thought of my head hitting hard wet sand at top speed convinces me to check our pace. After a long run, I slowly rein my mount in. The rest of the riders are a spec in the distance, so I turn and walk slowly to meet them. A jellyfish the size of a car tyre lies washed up on the sand, an iridescent pancake thrown out by the ocean. As the sun warms my back I notice that smooth volcanic pebbles dot the shore like black stars. The only sound is a fusion of wind and surf. That moment as we walk together, the world makes sense.


But the best is yet to come. With horses stripped of saddles and riders sans clothes, we lead the horses barefoot across the burning sand to the water. Just like your average punter, the horses have their own quirks. Some happily make a beeline for the water like a kid on the last day of summer holidays, whilst others flatly refuse to put a hoof in. Given Jade's water phobia, I ride Jo's palomino pony, who is more partial to taking a dip.

After hoisting myself onto the horse with all the dignity one can muster in a low cut bikini, I spend the next minute shifting from side to side on the skeletal back of the pony. I'm secretly glad my posterior has a lot of padding to help me perch on top.

The horses wade into their chests, the breakers slapping their bellies. They jump, frolic, and shake, neighing loudly to each other. Even though the water only comes up to my calves, I'm drenched as my stead paws the surf the way a bull would before a charge. My Palomino dips her muzzle and throws her head from side to side. She couldn't be more at home if she was a duckling.

After a few minutes, though my horse decides she's had enough. She heads to shore for that favourite horsey pastime, a roll in the sand.  I'm unceremoniously left behind, sprawled in the water at the hooves of my fellow riders. I'm soaked, I'm laughing, and it’s one of the best days of my life.