Horsing Around
Wild horses nipped each other, neighed, and took off across emerald pastures. Mountains, stereo-typically and wonderfully craggy and snow-capped, jutted their pointy chins in defiance of the sky.
We hired three horses to trek up Jade Dragon Snow Mountain. Guesthouse Lady had recommended her cousin to drive us to the ranch, and the cousin had gotten us a discount. Guesthouse Lady, bless her heart, had also given us plums to munch on, and her cousin had stopped by a noddle shop to fill us up before the trip.
YuppieNomad's horse was the lead, mine the middle and Blowingbubbles' the rear. We rode out of town (actually, we were led out of town by three Naxi villagers – but for the rest of the post, I'll just assume that we were riding the horses) at noon. The seat bristled a little and the little generals weren't too happy with the bump-bump-BUMP-bump motion. I hadn't rode a four legged creature since the Grand Canyon and needed some time to get used to it (hint: sit near the front of the saddle – save your rump the pain).
Shit. It was shit. YuppieNomad's mount, that fatty, had broken wind three times during the first twenty minutes, and now, twenty five minutes into the trek, stopped in the middle of the trail, took a piss, and laid clumps of mustard within sneezing distance of my own horse. Some of the piss splattered onto my jeans. My horse, trained to follow, stood there like an idiot and waited for Breakwind to finish his duty. Blowingbubble's ride, as a precedent for the entirety of the trek, lagged behind, being old, lazy, or both – so she wasn't privy to the splendors of Breakwind's handiwork.
To top it off, the fatty stopped five minutes later to munch on thistle that clumped by the trail. It was this way throughout the 4 hour trek. Eat. Stop. Dump. And I was behind it all on Dopey, who didn't seem to mind.
I learned to get used to animal behavior pretty soon. There was too much to see. Wild horses nipped each other, neighed, and took off across emerald pastures. Mountains, stereo-typically and wonderfully craggy and snow-capped, jutted their pointy chins in defiance of the sky. The sky sent thick foamy clouds down to blanket the mountains. The fields climbed into hills, then into rocky slopes lined with rhododendrons and wild crocuses. Pines and firs and poplars potpourri-ed the trails. The glacier gleamed in the distance, 4,000 meters above us. Our guides broke into songs, yips and yaps.
The horses galloped on the summit, but tired from the climb, they preferred to graze. We took photos, measured our lungs against the alpine air, whooped and melted into silence. Lijiang sparkled below in the far off valley. Dinner awaited.
I finagled to get Dopey into the lead, but to my chagrin, Breakwind was too stubborn (and just as hungry) on the way down.