Long riding… or trekking. Why are they different and why does it matter?
When Pete and I met by total chance in a Mongolian park, I had just finished my apprenticeship as a vegan chef. I had packed my bag and headed off with my dog on what by chance became the greatest adventure of all—a life on horseback. Pete, on the other hand, had planned to run away from a society he no longer wished to be part of, with a loose plan of riding his horses from Mongolia all the way to Scotland. What started with a short conversation about dogs, ended in a two-year horseback journey through Central Asia, then all the way into Europe. But now, some five years after it all started, we have ridden more than 12,000 km together and explored some 21 countries on horseback.
Long riding vs trekking.
First, I feel we should define what I mean when I talk about either trekking or long riding. There are many different definitions when it comes to these two, but for me, it's pretty clear.
Trekking:
A couple of hours in the nearby area.
A couple of days on tracks known to the rider.
Booked tours with a guide or similar.
Long riding:
Following the unknown trail.
The uncertainty of shelter, food, and water.
Riding self-contained/without a support vehicle.
At least a couple of weeks on the road, preferably months or years.
I don’t intend to “punch down” on trekking as it can be amazing. It’s also challenging and a wonderful experience, and when you are trekking, your focus is on your horse and the ride that day, rather than the long term management of your horse and affairs. But when we are out long riding, its far more dynamic and your focus is on finding food, water, shelter, and sometimes it’s as simple as "how do we not die?"
Why long riding?
Pete nor I really feel like we have a place in this fast-paced world. Pete left a world he no longer felt a part of, and the reality of a life in a Berlin kitchen scared me more than I like to admit. So… why not run from it all? Why not find fulfilment in a sunset with a cheap bottle of wine and a can of tuna poured over 2 minute noodles as the horses graze beside you. Long riding slows everything right down, and instead of worrying about what the neighbours think, we concentrate on the well-being of our team.
Showers and good coffee become rarer and therefore more appreciated. In short the whole world changes, and that which really matters, becomes what we value the most. Being at the mercy of nature puts a lot of things in perspective, and the endless hours we spend together allow us to get to know each other in a way that wouldn’t be possible otherwise. In short… I am a different person on the road. And I like that person a lot. Often… she’s the best version of me. Pete and I shared so many “magic moments long riding”, and this is the first one Pete felt there was something more between us. Magic like this… this happens on long rides, and treks to be fair, but long riding is where hearts and heads have a chance to both clash… and become one.
“Day one of our big ride, we lost Willow at sunset. I glanced up to see him heading for the distant village across the low rolling fields waist-high in autumn grasses and flowers in a lazy bend of a wide river some 30 km out of Pavlodar, Kazakhstan. We had just bought our first three horses: Bill the Bastard, a tall powerful buckskin stallion; Jac, a gorgeous chestnut gelding and stock horse; and Willow. Willow was a cheeky grey gelding, and I do mean cheeky. The other two were grazing quietly on their tethers and, to be fair, this was a procedure we were both yet to master as neither of us were confident enough to hobble horses at these early stages. Luísa saw our beautiful full-sized pony we had planned to use as a pack horse sauntering off seconds after me, and the two of us shared the first glance in which no words were spoken, but a full conversation was had. As I sprinted to head off Willow on foot, knowing full well I had no chance of catching him without Luísa’s help, I wondered optimistically if she and I were on the same page mentally. I got ahead of Willow rather easily and began to shepherd him away from his intended destination of his familiar home some 15 km away. He eyeballed me sceptically, dragging his lead rope and tether behind him, letting me get close but never close enough… and then I saw her. Luísa cantered Jac bareback over a low rise with the setting sun behind her. Her dark silhouette on a glowing little gelding was a stark contrast to the brilliant orange sunset behind her. They moved as one, and breaking into a gallop, I was momentarily stopped dead in my tracks. I’d known Luísa for weeks; we’d even shared a kiss, but until that moment I hadn’t even really noticed her as someone I might find myself having a romantic interest in. Still somewhat dumbfounded by her grace, her poise, and total and utter composure riding that beautiful chestnut at sunset, I stepped on Willow's lead rope with a foot and gathered up the runaway with Luísa having confidently predicted and blocked his movements on what was clearly a capable stock horse.”
– Out of our book Wanderlust - Pete
But I want to be very clear here since often it is painted out as this romantic journey with endless sunsets, beautiful trails, and ice cream afternoons. If that’s what you are looking for, go on a trail ride and enjoy it! Only when you are willing to be uncomfortable while focusing solely on your horse's safety, only when you are willing to walk for hours along busy roads, only when you can accept that it won’t be perfect… only then would I recommend you even consider a long ride.
It’s a lifestyle, not Just a journey.
Embarking on a long ride requires careful planning and preparation if you wish to succeed. With the level of preparation you put in prior, having a direct correspondence to the success you enjoy on the road. The thing is, a long ride starts way before you jump on your horse and take off. I mean, you can just buy a horse, some gear, and take off; but we found that to do a ride ethically, you need to spend time preparing and training. Like everything in life, you need a REALISTIC budget, so firstly we have to save up some money. Then you will need a horse, preferably two to fulfil the horse's social needs and spread the load. You will have to train the horses physically and mentally, then find suitable gear and test it. You will need to sort your affairs, “partner, flat, storage of your stuff” and then it’s time to look towards the horizon and the adventure that lays ahead.
But here is where us long riders separate once and for all from the happy hackers and those that find peace and fulfilment in trekking. When we are out on a mountainside in torrential rain, managing a fiery Arab as it slips and slides, dragging the reins through frozen hands… yeah, we miss the comforts of home. But the second we are safe and warm by the fire watching the first of the winter snow fall on a greyscale landscape… we are longing for that mountainside and the challenges that come with it desperately. For us, as long riders, there will never be fulfilment in comfort and contentment. Long riders are born in the storm, and the calm doesn’t suit us. It is absolutely a lifestyle choice, and it is one that has completely consumed us.
