What I have learned on my Long Rides is that the old cliche “it’s not about the destination, it’s the journey,” is absolutely true!
The richest experiences I have had on my travels have come at the most unexpected moments. It’s not the tourist locations I visited or the days I planned for that I remember most often. By far, it’s the times I never imagined I would live that have left the deepest impact on me.
Due to my month spent at the Brazilian – Uruguayan border dealing with bureaucracy and finding new mounts, I made some of the strongest friendships of the entire journey and lived some unforgettable moments.
On a visit to Nicolas Lanfranco’s hacienda, the Uruguayan Quarter Horse breeder who lent me two mares, I got a chance to Jinetear – ride a bronc, in the Gaucho style!
On a chilly morning, Nico, Nicolas’ son, showed me his herd of bucking horses. A worker from the ranch agreed to get on a mean stud to show me how the Gauchos ride these devils bareback. The stud was tied to a palenque, tall wooden pol, and a cloth tied around its eyes so he could not see. When the animal stopped freaking out, the tall, wide Gaucho, jumped on bareback, baring very large spurs and tied a leather strap around the horse’s neck. He then used the end the strap to secure his left hand and intertwined his fingers in the horse’s thick, muddy mane.
With a strong nod, the cloth was removed from the studs eyes and his lead rope untied from the palenque. Like an angry devil the stud took off bucking hard as the Gaucho tried to stay aboard. After two jumps the stud’s power was too much and the young man was hammered onto the ground.
All of the workers laughed and yelled. I was hooked – I needed a go!
“Can I try one,” I asked shyly.
“Of course you can,” Nico responded with a sly smile.
All of the Gauchos present gleamed with pride that I wanted to participate in their national sport! And I think part of them wanted to see this cowboy get tossed too.
They brought a big bay mare and tied her to the palanque. Much to her dismay. As the Gaucho who had just ridden tied the long spurs to my ostrich skin boots, I watched the other workers fight with the strong mare. Swallowing my fear, I wondered if this was a good idea.
When the spurs were tied on tight and the mare was finally blindfolded I jumped on her dirty back. She stood still, unable to see anything, but I could feel the adrenaline within her boiling. My heart began to beat faster and faster. While a Gaucho helped me tie my right hand to the mares black mane, Nico gave me some pointers on what to do.
“If she spins, get off the opposite side she is moving so you don’t get stepped on,” he said from atop a chestnut mare.
“Perfect,” I thought to myself. Wondering how the hell I would control what side I got off.
Feeling 100 per cent vulnerable, like I was completely exposed to disaster, I nodded hard and squeezed my legs even harder into the mare. As soon as her blindfold was removed she spun to her left and took off like a derailed train. She galloped for a full stride before throwing her back end up. She bucked and she bucked hard. On her third jump, I moved up to her withers, and feeling my body going towards her neck, she quickly dropped her head, slammed on the breaks and turned the other way. Leaving me in mid air like a cartoon character for a second before being slammed onto the burned pasture.
“Good ride,” the Gauchos yelled, smiling from ear to ear.
I loved it! With the adrenaline pumping I felt like I could take on the world at that moment!
