On Sunday April 3, I stuffed my little white Volkswagen truck with all of my tack, equipment and clothes and left for Barretos.
Saying goodbye to my horses and my dog Nevada wasn’t easy, but my little sister was harder. Even though I knew I would see her in a week when my family drove to see me off, I swallowed my tears as I drove out of our ranch. Her image slowly disappearing from my rearview mirror.
Luckily, my first Canadian friend Mark Maw, was by my side.
“Barretos here we come,” he yelled out the window from under his backwards, bright-red Toronto Raptors hat.
A smile was born on my face and my heart jumped into high gear. As we began to make the 4 hour drive to the Rodeo Capital of Brazil, I couldn’t help but wonder what my mares looked like. How they would react when they saw me. What their temperament was like. I was headed to the farm where I would meet my new mounts for the first time and begin training them for the epic adventure that lay ahead of us.
Before leaving my hometown, I drove to church to give thanks and ask for protection. The local priest, seeing me in the back of the large building, called me up to the front at the end of the mass and asked me to say a few words. I wasn’t expecting it, so I tried not to blush too much. After a short speech I asked everyone to pray for my mares and I.Just after 2pm, with the thermometer reading 39 degrees we arrived at the Senegal 3G farm. I found the worker in charge, introduced myself and immidiately asked where my mares were. He pointed to a pasture in the back and I ran like a little kid who hears the ice cream truck two streets over.
“You are so beautiful,” I said while opening the gate to their pasture.
Both mares turned their noses up and smelled the humid air, ears pointing my way as straight as an arrow, grass hanging off the side of their lips. When I made my way into the pasture, they both took off like a rockets, bucking and whining around the field. It was as if they were trying to tell me that winning over their trust and their heart would not be easy. But I wasn’t worried, I have dated several women by now and know what “playing hard to get is all about.”
After about 5 minutes I managed to catch my feisty mares and give them the first of many pats on the neck. I first caught Doll O’lena and immediately blew in her nostril – an old timer once told me this is the most polite way to say hello to a horse and it insure it will never forget you.“Hey beautiful girl, nice to meet you,” I said scratching her star.
Doll is as flashy as they come. She is a 5-year-old, red-roan quarter horse lent to me by Lincoln Arruda, a local horse breeder. I first met Lincoln when he purchased the saddle I used during my last Long Ride at a sale to raise money for the Barretos Cancer Hospital.
“Filipe if you need a horse let me know, I would love to be a part of this journey,” he told me over the phone when he first heard I was jumping back into the saddle.
After tying Doll up I proceeded to blow into Life’s nostril to introduce myself. I scratched the side of her head and gave her buckskin fir a kiss. Doll is a 6-year-old quarter horse lent to me by the president of the association in Brazil, Fabio Pinto da Costa.After introductions were made, it was time to get started! I put the saddle on Doll first, rode her around the pasture and then did the same to Life. Both mares were excited at first but after a few minutes calmed right down. I then took them out and ponied one around while riding the other. They did great!
I cant wait to get to know these majestic animals and learn who they really are.