Whistler Wilderness Ride Day Three

The Gallop and the Letting Go

Never have I ever thought I would quote a character played by Tom Cruise. But that evening, while eagerly awaiting dinner after our long and thrilling ride up to the mines and back, our wrangler Jess asked me what I’d like to do the next day. Still a little flush with adrenaline, I flashed a grin and replied: "I feel the need, the need for speed." I'd experienced extreme terrain at high altitude and now I wanted a flat out, wind in my face gallop.

Nothing in riding is less clear than the gallop, at least for casual riders. The progression in skill from riding at the walk and trot to the canter is a significant milestone when you’re learning the sport. Anyone who observes a student at the barn cantering for the first time can’t help but congratulate the beaming rider. The transition from trot to canter is evident in the obvious difference between the two-beat trot, where the horse’s front and rear legs on opposite sides hit the ground in unison, and the rollicking motion of the three-beat canter. As the horse extends its stride and increases speed, its feet strike the ground individually. This shift from canter to gallop is more subtle.

Around the campfire that night, our other wrangler Jayden told the story of leading a group of experienced riders on an outing while mounted on the ranch’s smallest horse. The women requested a gallop. Not just a fast canter, they clarified, a full gallop. After assessing their abilities on the trail for a while, Jayden felt okay with fulfilling their request. She described a moment when she felt her little horse stretch and flatten out as they flew. That was the gallop. My insides lit up, and I found myself nodding and letting out a “Yeah!”

Anxious excitement filled the air as we talked about going faster. For those of us who primarily ride in arenas and in more populated parks, opportunities to gallop out in the open are rare. Louise noted the freaky feeling of riding fast with such long reins, which provided no feeling of contact with the horse’s mouth. Contact with the horse’s mouth was a crucial component of communication with the horse in English, the way we typically rode. In contrast, as Louise noted, riding fast on a loose Western rein “is like driving without brakes!” Jayden assured us we could shorten the reins a bit when we pick up the speed and our horses would slow or stop if we pulled back on them.

In the morning, we saddled up and headed towards Birkenhead Lake. Jayden led the way this time, and I rode behind her. My seat bones were tender, but I now knew that would wear off after ten to fifteen minutes. We rode through the eerie wasteland where a controlled burn had been executed and then we crossed a wide logging road. Jayden stopped at a branch in the trail, an out-and-back that Jess had discovered. “We’ll follow it to the end and then canter back out in reverse order,” Jayden announced. She instructed us to only go so fast as felt comfortable, and if anything happened or for any reason a rider felt unsafe, we should yell “STOP!” We gave her thumbs up and after a bit of trotting, we began to canter. Then suddenly we heard a chorus of “STOP!” Jayden’s boyfriend Daniel had been bucked off his big gelding, the inaccurately-named Mellow, without any serious injury.

After lunch by the turquoise lake in front of Mt. Birkenhead, we continued up the trail, getting a few more canters in. The trail was like a rollercoaster, filled with dips into ditches where streams flowed, and took us past a birch tree that bore the marks of a climbing bear’s claws to a small suspension bridge. We crossed the narrow metal bridge on foot and filled our water bottles from the clear river below.

Then we lined up for the ride back to camp. Jess and Louise’s daughter were ahead of me on Billy and Cliff, known as two of the fastest horses on the ranch. Louise was right behind me on Angus. “Ready, Lonesome?” Like revving an engine, I keyed my horse up a little by giving his sides small squeezes with my legs while holding back with the reins. Lonesome began to prance, ears pointing forward and body tensed. Ready.

Jess addressed the group. “We’ll have to slow down at ditches so the horses can trot down and up. When we near a ditch I’ll raise my hand like this (as though she were about to be sworn into office) and yell “TROT!” and I want everyone down the line to do the same.” She gave us one last look over her should as her horse began to dance, adding, “You might want to hold your free hand up in front of your face because branches will be hitting you in the face.” Check.

Then Jess and Billy took off like a speedboat, pulling us in their wake. We cantered fast as the trail twisted and narrowed. I held my right forearm across my nose, grateful for the helmet taking the brunt of the branches. Jess yelled, “TROT!” and we all slowed for a ditch. “Everybody good?”

“Good!” I shouted. I grinned and turned to Louise. “This is fun, huh?”

She nodded tensely and suddenly we were off again. The trail widened and we picked up speed. Lonesome stretched his neck forward and lengthened his stride. Galloping!

“TROT!” Jess called out.

“TROT!” I repeated, raising my right hand up next to my head. “You OK?” I asked Louise.

Her blue eyes were huge with fright. “This is crazy! I feel like he’s going to run away with me.”

I felt bad that she wasn’t enjoying this thrill. “Well, like Jayden said, you could always shorten your reins and slow down. But honestly, we’re riding single file on a trail, so where would Angus go? Plus, these horses are all really bonded, and no one wants to leave the herd. You’re not going anywhere.”

We set off in a cloud of dirt and thundering hooves. The trail straightened out and widened some. “C’mon!” I urged Lonesome, nudging him to even greater speed with my heels until we reached at a flat-out gallop and I had to steer him alongside Cliff’s hindquarters to avoid collision.

When Jess yelled “TROT!” we all slowed for a set of ditches, but the horses were so amped that instead of trotting through them, they jumped across! Lonesome and I were both loving this.

We came to a stop and waited for the rest of the group to catch up. I turned around and saw Louise’s face relaxed and beaming with delight. This filled my heart with relief and joy. I told her it looked like she was having a good time. Louise shrugged, grinning. “I just decided to go with it.” Riding up a mountain to 6000 feet and getting to gallop were both unforgettable thrills on our adventure. But this, my friends, was the best moment.