Yesterday, the birthday of my country, was by far the coolest day I have had here so far.  It started out with a bus ride to Ritoque, a beach just to the north of Viña del Mar.  Our group hopped off the bus and signed on the dotted line—accepting responsibility for any accident that may happen on their trail horses.  Then, it was time to saddle up and choose your ride for the afternoon.  I was about last in getting a horse, and they certainly matched me up according to my size.  I hopped up on probably the largest horse there, a big white stallion who pretty much hated every other horse out there—especially the other stallions.  I figured that out within the first 10 minutes on the saddle when ¨The White Fright¨ (as I like to call him) stood cheek to cheek with Laura’s stallion and proceeded to make these scary snorting noises.  Christian (one of the Chilean guides—although he made it very clear that he’s Patagonian first, then Chilean) rode up quickly and explained to Laura and I that because we were both riding stallions, our horses were not amigos.  In fact, they despised each other.  Although Laura and I tried to avoid getting near each other, I ended up just behind her, and the White Fright would start nipping at her horse’s booty every time.  Before we hit the trail, I asked Christian if I should trade horses due to my inexperience.  He replied that the horses act differently on the trail and that I’d either be fine or I’d die—and this was the reason we had all signed the waivers before leaving for the trail … thanks for making me feel so much better Christian.

Now, despite the fact that my horse was a meanie, I was having the time of my life because the landscape was INCREDIBLE!!!  We rode through some scrub brush at first, which morphed into steep, Pacific wind-blown, mountainous sand dunes with killer inclines.  After ploughing through a 4ft-deep stream, we traversed this narrow passage on one of the dunes with an unbelievably sharp 40ft descent into the river on one side, and the steep peak of the dune on the other.  There was only enough room for one horse to pass through at a time.  After making it through this obstacle, we came to a stopping point where the 40-some-odd horses crowded around together in a situation that was just asking for trouble.  The White Fright took a few steps closer to another horse and suddenly reared up on its hind legs to have a go at the horse in front of us.

Now, I don’t want to make this part sound too dramatic.  I didn’t even see this thing coming and I don’t claim to be a talented rider.  However, I did manage to hang on to the reigns long enough to endure the attempted assault and jerk W.F. away from the other horses.  What a meanie.  Christian came over and mumbled something with the words “dos veces” to Sebastian, and I nodded in affirmation, “dos veces.”  Two times, dude—somebody switch horses with me for goodness sakes!  I don’t want to wind up like Christopher Reeves on my trip to Chile!  Christian agreed and switched his horse for mine and complained to me about how the farm that they rent horses from for large groups always gives them stallions—a very bad idea for inexperienced riders.

Atop my trusty new steed I proceeded to enjoy the cordillera of sand dunes with ever-increasing vistas of the ocean crashing against the tops of the dunes.  I can’t describe how gorgeous and cool it was.  To top it all, once we arrived to the beach, there was a sea lion just chilling there waiting to greet the gringos.  He was an incredibly photogenic sea lion too, constantly turning his cute little face to different angles for the forty-something odd spectators snapping away with their point-and-shoots.  After the sea lion photo shoot, Sam asked me if I wanted to see if my horse would gallop. I said heck yah, so we both tapped our heels together and flung the end of the reigns over the rear ends of our horses and of course let out a few “yah, yahs.”  At first, I experienced the painful canter that bounces you up and down until I though I was going to lose my ability to procreate.  Then we broke into a full-on gallop.  I can hardly describe the feeling.  It felt like what I would image birds feel like when they take off for a flight.  There was a smooth, arcing fluidity to the horse’s movements.  It was so natural to find his rhythm and mimic it with my posture and my own movements.  I think I’m a bit addicted.  I can understand a little better why the “horse girls” from high school preferred their quarter horse to a boyfriend.  Anyone have a fast horse I can borrow?

I got my horse to gallop once more before the day was over and then it was time for the asado (bbq).  There were pisco sours, tons of wine, plates and plates of ensaladas, and two wood-burning bbq pits full of pork, sausage, and steak.  Wow.  Could a day get any better?  I proceeded to eat and drink to my heart’s content—until the sun had set over the Pacific and it was time to return to Viña.  What an incredible day.  I still can’t believe that I got to do that.