Filling You In

...but in the informational not physical sense as there has been quite a gap in my blog posts since I arrived in St Joseph in October.
On Thursday October 15th Patti and Kenny from Greenacres Riding Centre came to fetch Lady and take her back to Jamesport where she is spending the winter in a large sheltered field with equine buddies.  Then it was a round trip to Chicago by hire car to move all my excess baggage to store in Patti's garage at Jamesport, passing through Hannibal, Mark Twain's boyhood home town en route.
Thus an obligatory selfie with Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn..

On Sunday I met up in St Joe (as we locals call St Joseph) with Lyle Ladner, the current President of the National Pony Express Association, though I was rather bleary-eyed after a night sleeping in the car.  He not only treated me to a slap up breakfast, but promised to help as much as he can. It is helping hands such as this that makes me feel following the Pony Express Trail is now feasible in spite of the private land and desert areas that I will need to negotiate.

Fortified by breakfast and encouragement, I spent the rest of the day looking round the Pony Express museum in the former Pony Express stable block, and the huge Pattee House museum just up the road, a former luxury hotel which housed the Pony Express office.
The Pony Express was founded by William Russell, Alexander Majors and William Waddell in 1860. Surprisingly in view of its iconic place in the history of the Opening up of the West, it only lasted for eighteen months, overtaken by the construction of a telegraph line to California by autumn  1861.
St Joseph was chosen as the eastern end of the trail since at the time it was also the westernmost terminal of the railway. Mail bound for San Francisco arrived by train, was delivered to the Pony Express office in Pattee House and was then carried by Pony Express for 2000 miles across prairies, mountain ranges and deserts to Sacramento, passing through Salt Lake City en route.   Each rider covered about hundred miles between 'home stations', changing horses at smaller 'swing' stations positioned every 12-15 miles or so. The whole ride took about ten days, amazing when you consider it will conservatively take me around four or five months!  Apart from riding all day and night through baking summer heat and biting winter cold, not to mention tackling rivers in flood,  and deep snow in the mountains, the riders occasionally had to escape attacks by Paiute Indians.
A life size tableau of a pony express rider about to leave the stables....

..a bit too spookily realistic for me - don't think I will be emulating Ben Stiller's  'Night at the Museum'. 

 From here the rider would pick up the mail from the Pony Express office in Patee House and gallop down to board the ferry across the Missouri river.

An exact replica of the mochila which was used to carry the mail....

...this is a removable leather cover which in Pony Express days fitted over a specially designed lightweight saddle - if you look closely you can see the cantle and horn of the saddle poking through slits in the mochila.  Four lockable pockets or cantinas contained the mail. Three pockets carried mail for the whole distance, and only the station keepers at either end of the trail held a key. The fourth pocket which was at the front left hand side (thus not visible in the photo) was called a 'way pocket'  and was used for mail being picked up from or delivered to home stations - only the home station masters held keys.
At each station the mochila was rapidly removed from the exhausted horse and flung over the saddle of the fresh horse before the rider jumped on and galloped on his way.

Leaving Lady in Patti and Kenny's capable hands, I drove back to Chicago to spend my last evening in the USA having a Mexican meal out with the Crown Point 'girls' ...

L to R, Debbie who hosted me before I started out from Crown Point, me, Pat who looked after Lady over the summer, and last but not least Carol, who is behind the camera.
Many thanks to the public spirited Debbie for putting me up or rather putting up with me overnight, particularly as she was in right in the middle of moving house. What teenage fun to have a sleepover with Debbie, me and the dogs all piled on a mattress on the floor in the empty living room!
And all the best in your lovely new home!

Cleanliness is next to Godliness

When I reached the westernmost point of mainland Ireland at Slea Head on the Dingle Peninsula last year, the only place to go further west was to the tiny Blasket Islands just off the coast, and then North America.  And that is where I plan to continue the Long Horse Ride later this year, starting from Cape Spear near St John's in Newfoundland.

I am hoping to ride without vehicle support for much of the time, either carrying my kit in saddlebags or on a packhorse, so sourcing lightweight gear will be of the utmost importance.  A constant concern when wild camping is keeping clean.  I was thus intrigued to find on the internet an innovative brand of washcloths and dishcloths marketed by Lunatec. 

Not only lightweight but self-cleaning, quick dry and odour-free, they seem perfect for the job, and I am very grateful that Lunatec have generously offered to provide cloths for my trip.

http://www.thegearcaster.com/the_gearcaster/2011/07/innovative-camping-towels-from-lunatec.html

The End of the Road

The following morning, Friday 31st May, Zorbee and I made the final push to Dunmore Head, the westernmost point of Europe excluding Iceland and smaller islands.

With over two thousand archaeological sites, the Dingle Peninsula has one of the highest concentrations of ancient monuments in Ireland, and we soon came across this strange feature - an ancient pig sty or hen house? ............

 

....well possibly used as such in more recent times, but originally this would have been built as a dwelling - an example of early Celtic bijou? These clochans or beehive huts litter the area, and although it is unclear when they date from, (estimates seem to range widely from 4000 to 200 years ago!) some experts think they were mainly constructed after the twelfth century.

 

Nearing Dunquin, or Dun Chaoin (Caon's Stronghold) to use its proper Irish name ..

 

Dunquin is probably most well known as being the location for the filming of 'Ryan's Daughter' and more recently ' Far and Away'.  The old schoolhouse which was specially built for Ryan's Daughter is still in existence if falling into ruin, but film set Kirrary town which was also built from scratch was subsequently bulldozed by local request - they must be kicking themselves now for destroying a golden opportunity to milk the present flood of tourists!

Over forty years ago I visited Dunquin with my sister Rhiannon when we holidayed on the southwest coast.  The local bus deposited us on a bleak road at the top of the then tiny village and we walked down to the pub where one of the indoor scenes with John Mills was filmed, and where a desultory couple of locals eyed us curiously.  We also wandered down to the slipway which featured in the storm scene.  Now Dunquin has quadrupled in size and coachloads of tourists pass through regularly. There are pottery shops, a visitors' centre and tea rooms - where were the latter when we were gagging for a cup of tea and a bite to eat forty years ago?  Never a problem finding Guiness though.

 

And here are Zorbee and me at the end of the road - the furthest point we could safely or legally reach on Dunmore Head - beyond lie the Blasket Islands...

 

Julia was waiting patiently with the lorry, and we loaded up almost immediately and set off back to Rosslare.  However not before a bit of excitement as I had not realised that an unofficial one-way system existed on the narrow and precipitous road round Slea Head to the south. Luckily before we had gone too far we came bumper to bumper with a large tourist coach, rapidly followed by another.  I was forced to reverse several hundred yards to a small parking area where I was able to execute a three point turn on the edge of a cliff and then go with the flow! 

 

Because of our tight schedule - one important factor being Julia's imminent viva - we did not have as much time for orthodox sightseeing as we would have liked.   However at midday we were conveniently passing through the little town of Annascaul, and were able to stop for lunch at the South Pole Inn.  This was previously owned by Tom Crean, who not only took part in both Scott's ill-fated expedition to the South Pole, but also Shackleton's failed attempt. Crean was one of the remaining three men to row from Elephant Island with Shackleton and negotiate the mountains of South Georgia to raise the alarm.  As a result not a single life was lost.

So here is Julia outside the South Pole Inn (which is crammed with Tom Crean memorabilia) taking a fleeting moment to glance up from studying her thesis......

 

.....and here am I arm in arm with the hero himself.  Note the darling little husky puppies he is carrying (how sweet!) and the inn in the background.......

Then it was the long haul back to Wexford, where the horses were staying at Ballyhealy House again.
Betty Maher-Caulfield was home from her Uzbek travels, so she and her talented artist daughter Serena were able to join us in a couple of bottles of bubbly to celebrate the successful conclusion of the Ireland leg.

Our last evening sleeping in the lorry, and Julia looks supremely happy at the thought of her last night curled up on the floor........

TO EVERYONE WE STAYED WITH -

MANY MANY THANKS FOR THE IRISH HOSPITALITY!!

We did not pay a penny for horse or human accommodation the whole way across Ireland and that has to be a first for the many countries I have ridden through.

As one of the main aims of the ride is to raise money for charity this has been much appreciated.

Cantering through Kerry

Tuesday May 28th dawned wet and miserable, but happily it had cleared up a bit by the time Zorbee and I had set off along a quiet lane over the forested hills to Castleisland.  But what were these extraordinary Triffid like plants on the side of the road? ..........

 

We arrived a bit tired and damp at Mary Bradley's well run Eagle Lodge Equestrian Centre at Gortalea.........  

 

............where the horses were again accommodated in comfortable stables on a rainy night.

Mary seeing us off on Wednesday morning. I did not always manage to get photos of everyone who put us up as we had generally left by the time people appeared on the yard in the morning!

 And here the horses are on the west coast, having a picnic by the sea at Derrymore before Zorbee and I set off along the beach on the north coast of the Dingle Peninsula.......

After days tramping boringly along tarmac roads, it was a real treat to be able to trot and canter all the way along the beach for miles from Derrymore to Castlegregory. .................

 

and in VIDEO 

Zorbee perked up no end, and we made excellent progress.   We were able to reach Kilshannig on the peninsula to the north of Castle Gregory, where the horses were provided with a large grassy field at O Connor's Trekking Centre.

The next morning Zorbee and I tackled the beach on the other side of the peninsula, where the Atlantic breakers were crashing on the shore.  I managed to find a lone walker to take the photo below, and you can see I have eventually persuaded Zorbee to get his feet wet - by the end he was splashing relatively confidently through the small waves!

Up through the mist and over the Connor Pass to Dingle..........

By the time large vehicles reach this sign it is usually too late!.......

 

The panorama down to Dingle on the other side..................

 

It was a few more hours to sea in the distance and along the coast to Ventry, where John Patrick gave the horses a field at Long's Riding Centre . 

 

 

It's a Long Way to..............

......... you've guessed it, Tipperary, where the horses are currently staying at the Cahir Equestrian Centre.

But before leaving Kilkenny we boxed a refreshed Zorbee back to Mullinavat and I rode over the hill back to Lorraine's, meeting Julia en route for a photo session by the nearby falls - Julia's turn to pose.....

Kilkenny countryside ....

......followed by an evening preprandial by the dung heap with Lorraine and sidekick Wallace the chocolate Labrador ...............

To be fair, in the other direction there was a stunning view of the Comeragh mountains.
Lorraine looked after us like royalty for the two nights we imposed ourselves on her due to Zorbee's squits - a huge grassy field for the horses, showers and pizza supper for us.

The team (almost) ready for off the next morning - right to left a studious Julia still deep in her thesis, Lili, Lorraine, an irrepressible Wallace and an impatient Zorbee.

Next stop was Clonmel in Tipperary, where yet another enormous grassy field awaited at Daverne's Equestrian Centre - courtesy of Mark Daverne (Thanks Mark, and also to Trevor English who sorted it out when he was unable to accommodate us due to coughing ponies at his yard).   With all this rich grass, Lili is rapidly getting fatter so I will have to watch her weight - in these circumstances small ponies are susceptible to a condition called laminitis which causes inflammation and pain in the hooves.
Clonmel is also the home of Magners/Bulmers cider, so it was imperative that we sampled the local offering......

Highly recommended is the Apple and Rhubarb cider, to be drunk on ice - delicious!

Today it was a short ride to the Equestrian Centre at Cahir owned by Fiona Hyland.  While the horses relaxed this afternoon in a safe little paddock (thankfully not too much grass for Lili!) Julia and I had a jaunt into town.  Unfortunately not enough time to go round the impressive looking castle, but there was plenty else to amuse us ...

Sign outside the Cahir pub 'Mary Condon'.  Is the Guiness really that lethal here?

Burial spot - on the main street !!  - of warhorse Crimean Bob.

Cwtching up to the blind piper of Cahir

....explanatory sign.......

.....and another suitably in braile....!  Think I have it the right way up.

Wexford and Kilkenny

Took the overnight ferry over to Ireland early in the morning of Friday May 17th. Friend Julia Harper is along to drive, and I have also brought my little Section B mare Cwrtycadno Lili Wen Fach (Lili for short) along as company for Zorbee.  Besides cabin with ensuite shower, the freight passage included a full breakfast in the truckers canteen with the other lorry drivers, all of whom were considerably more burly than Julia and me!   

Obligatory photo with rather woolly Zorbee overlooking Rosslare harbour before setting off to Ballyhealy near Kilmore Quay. The ferry we came over on is in the background.

Then an amazing ride between sanddunes, sea and bird festooned lagoon on the stunning coastline en route.  It seems to be a popular place to exercise sport horses - for a while I joined up with the chatty Jimmy who was excercising a very fit looking eventer - I circumspectly continued to plod quietly along when he cantered off over the horizon.
 

That evening the horses were happily esconsed in an abandoned grassy outdoor school at Ballyhealy house courtesy of Betty Maher-Caulfield, who was away in Central Asia, while Julia and me ventured out to the little fishing harbour of Kilmore Quay and treated ourselves to a delicious fishy meal at the Silver Fox seafood restaurant.

Next day dawned cool and breezy, and we had an uneventful tramp through Wexford lanes to our next stop at Horetown House, where David Young runs a very neat and organised riding and polocrosse centre.
Thank you David for providing the horses with a huge grassy field for the night.

 The main house shown above was sold on by his family and is now run as a boutique Irish country house hotel, where Julia and I settled ourselves in front of the fire in the basement bar for Irish drinks that evening..........

Julia looks rather glum but is in fact deep in concentration preparing for the viva for her PhD thesis at the beginning of June! 

Happily the sign below is not at all typical of  Irish hospitality, which has been overwhelming.

En route to New Ross the next day I was invited in for coffee and biscuits by the delightful Moira Molloy, shown below in front of her pretty cottage.  The feet belong to camera shy Stephen Kinsella who patiently held Zorbee for me while I was entertained inside.

At the Oldcourt Stables we had an Irish welcome from Paddy Kent, a great character with the gift of the gab whose family are descended from Viking immigrants and have lived in the area for generations.  Zorbee and Lili had stables while we had the use of the holiday cottage, and Paddy whisked us off to see the 'Kennedy house' where American President John Kennedy's great grandfather was born - here is Julia in front of the house, which is not the substantial building in the background, but the little tin-roofed shed to the left!

The plaque below commemorates the occasion on 27th June 1963 when JFK returned to his roots in New Ross - sadly we will miss the celebrations next month for the the fiftieth anniversary of the visit.

 Julia and I ticked off another unmissable tourist attraction when we did the tour of the 'Famine Ship' on the New Ross quayside - a replica of the Dunbrody which was one of many ships carrying thousands of Irish immigrants fleeing the Irish potato famine to Canada and America in the mid 1800s.  The fever ridden passengers suffered appallingly in the cramped quarters below decks in spite of the ministrations of the captain - Welshman John Williams who apparently did his best to ease their situation.  Many thousands of Irish migrants died both during and after these voyages as unscrupulous shipping agencies crowded impoverished passengers on board.

A Welshwoman at the wheel this time.

The ever effervescent Paddy Kent with Julia, and David who helps out during his spare time from a bank job - I don't mean in the criminal sense.

Curious cattle en route to Mullinavat from New Ross on Monday - Mullinavat is behind the hill in the distance.

 Julia managed to find a lovely field by a river for the horses in Mullinavat for the night, but unfortunately yesterday morning I found Zorbee scouring badly - no doubt the side effect of a worm dose I had administered the evening before.  He was rather down in the mouth, so we decided to take a day off and box him on to our next stop with Lorraine Scott of the Whitechurch Stables near Carrick on Suir where the facilities are more suitable - we will box him back to Mullinavat when he is OK.
So here we are in Carrick on Suir - and while Zorbee is recovering in a large grassy field, Julia and I have taken the chance to do some sightseeing....... Suir is rather unfortunately pronounced Sewer, though happily it most certainly does not live down to its name!

 Julia on the fifteenth century bridge in Carrick - she is the pimple to the right of the lamp-post.  This was also the scene of a terrible accident in 1799 when a barge crashed into the bridge during a heavy flood and over a hundred  people, mainly women and children, were drowned.
 

And below in front of the beautifully restored Ormond Castle - a stunning example of an Elizabethan manor house, attached to the ruins of an older castle at the back - it looks rather forbidding and bleak here, but was in fact must have been an imposing but cosy home - the rooms were lovely.  

Caught in passing.......

Ireland Here We Come!

On Monday I set out on the three day ride from home to Fishguard to catch the ferry to Ireland.  This is because I intend to continue west and ride right across Eire to the westernmost mainland point of Britain at Slea Head on the Dingle peninsula.

Here we are preparing to set out on the second day from the  Cross Foxes Stud where Zorbee  had very comfortable overnight hospitality courtesy of Davinia, Ben and David Bethell - he is still looking wistfully towards the stables.   
Behind is the lorry, which we will be taking with us to transport the horses home etc and for accommodation. Friend Julia will be the trusty driver - you can just see her scooting across in the background of the photo.
My wet weather gear was a necessity for the damp day that followed, and even more so the next day when I crossed the Preseli mountains.  The weather forecast had promised improving conditions, but this did not appear to apply to the Preselis, and I fought my way over the bleak moorland against violent wind and driving rain - I could barely stand in places and it was without doubt the worst weather I have encountered the whole way across Eurasia!
It was thrilling to pass within yards of the famous Bluestones of Carn Menyn, which reared up eerie and primeval in the low cloud - they are thought to be the source of the bluestones of Stonehenge many miles away.  It was impossible to even think about taking a photo as I struggled through the gale and wet, but here is what they look like in calmer times!.......

Long experience of negotiating Welsh bogs over the years enabled me to pick my way through the wet patches on the top without mishap, but it was only when I got down the other side that the sun appeared, and by the time I reached Fishguard it was positively balmy.

Arriving on the seafront with Zorbee on a lead.........

 

Fishguard harbour ........... Ireland here we come!!