Monday, March 8, 2010


70 years ago our horses were ridden in the course of farming operations. My own horse, a grey military remount of 16 hands, with a mouth like iron and a will to match, would take me around the farm boundary, or be harnessed in a Cape Cart (fuel was scarce and rationed.) He also considered himself part of the family and would join us on the stoep looking for handouts. Today, if you want a ride at all,you pay an expensive riding school for the privilege of a mild canter around a limited area, trying to ignore the city in the distance, on a horse that is groomed and trained by others. Except for a few fortunate farmers in this area, who happily keep alive the traditions of gymkhana and distance events, and occasional week-long outrides.
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