"Is the Gaucho on his cellphone?"

Me and Cenizas (Spanish for Ashes), the name of my horse

This day I cannot imagine forgetting. We were picked up at two o'clock from our hostel and Silvia, Kathryn, and I headed off for an hour long drive on roads that ran along steep, impressive mountains and finally we arrived at a small ranch. The horses were beautiful and well cared for, mine was named Cenizas, which is Spanish for 'Ashes'. I hadn't had any preoccupations with riding alongside Kathryn and Silvia, who have both been riding horses for more than ten years, until I realized I was going to have to learn something, anything about horses, fast or always be lagging behind. We had a gaucho, an Argentine who has grown up on the farm, leading us and teaching me how to direct my horse. I was nervous about hitting the horse with the branch they gave each of us but the gaucho, Diego, told me Cenizas could barely feel it, it was more the sound of the whip motion that got him moving. After only five minutes we were riding on paths that ran amongst the same mountains we had passed on the road, but with nothing but nature in sight.

Silvia, Kathryn and I on our horses

Silvia, Kathryn and I

The scenery was overwhelming with its beauty.. it was strikingly hard for me to concentrate on holding onto the saddle or direct the reins because I could not take my eyes away from the view of the mountains. That changed when Diego rode up behind me and hit the horse with his leather whip and Cenizas began galloping. It took a little while for me to learn how to move with the horse but wow.. it was perhaps the most thrilling feeling I've ever had. Its hard to put into words but holding on and feeling yourself push against the wind at such speed is the most enthralling, confident feeling that I've ever had. I absolutely loved it. Still, of course, when the four of us raced to the end of the dirt paths, I finished last, but I would love more than anything to do that again.