As fate would have it, my first week on the road to Patagonia took me through the same stretch of land I travelled to end my first Long Ride.
Alongside the same comitiva that rode with me in 2014, I trekked towards the city of Rio Preto. We rode down familiar dirt roads intertwining through large dark-green sugar cane plantations that went on as far as the eye could see.
“This is where all of the cattle used to travel through on foot as cowboys pushed them to the Barretos slaughter house, one of the first in the country,” Milton Liso, the leader of the comitiva told me atop a large, sweaty mule.
Fact is, he had told me the same thing last time, but it didn’t matter. Just having his familiar face riding next to me felt amazing.
Just like the final days of the last journey, filled with too much meat and beer for one man to handle, the new ride began. Everyday ended with a huge barbecue, tons of people and copious amounts of alcohol being passed around. Music was always blaring, from an old speaker or a torn-up guitar.
After riding for 8 – 10 hours in 40 plus degree weather, plagued with dust, the cold beer felt exquisite as it made its way down my dry throat. But the next morning, having slept only 4 hours and hungover, I regretted ever picking up the first can – my head banging to samba drums.
Just like on the Brazilian part of the last journey, Os Independentes, the group that organizes the Barretos Rodeo, lent a van to carry water, grain and hay for the horses. A blessing for the animals. Mark Maw, my best friend since age 9, volunteered to be the first to drive the clunky van.
“I had no idea people would take us into their homes like this,” he said with a big smile midway through our first week on the trail.
Doll and Life took on the first 120 kilometres of the trip like pros. They finished everyday with their heads held high and took on every challenge that laid in their way with class. Wooden bridges, towns, scary looking tractors, loud cars… I saw them mature a lifetime in just a week on the road.
It was all beginning to seem like a Disney movie until Life’s sharp teeth snapped that thought in half. While walking to give the mares a break one day, she reached forward and almost took a chunk out of the left side of my lower back.
“Ahhhhh you little mare,” I snapped back at her rubbing the spot she had just bitten.
A nasty purple bruise left a reminder to never turn my back to the feisty mare again.
After 5 days on the road, dusty and tired, we arrived in Rio Preto. My body ached from my hair to my toes and my skin was badly burned but I was extremely happy. I missed life on the road more than I knew. Meeting new people everyday. Sharing and listening to their wild and intriguing stories. Being immersed in nature. Spending the entire day outside. Hearing the birds chirp near by. Feeling the soft wind kiss my face. Meditating to the sharp hollow sound of my mares hooves hitting the road. Being one with my ponies…
I love Long Riding so much. It is the closest thing I have found to being free. And to me, freedom is happiness.
