One of the most common reactions I’ve had when people read through ✓ Project Bucket List is a short pause, then a loud “you’ve never ridden a horse?!”. Maybe horse riding is some formative experience everybody has, like a 10th birthday party or crying over maths homework, or maybe I simply give off the vibe of someone who surely must’ve been on a horse by now.
Whatever the case, I haven’t done it, so get off your high horse, and come listen to me talk about how good I was at it.
We’d arrived at Monument Valley the day before, and once I got all my giddiness out of the way, we settled down to relax before a very early start to see the sunrise. On the way up, we’d seen plenty of horses, so as we sat watching the sunset, Kymberley suggested that we carpe diem our way onto a horse riding tour.
The guys had blasted through their finances on the trip, as had I, so the suggestion was met with murmurs and grunts. Kymberley pulled me aside and explained that I should get my head out of my ass and that this is a once in a lifetime kind of deal, and I realised that she was right.
I’d wanted to ride horses when we visited Iceland. Iceland is famous for its very big volcanoes and very small horses. When I researched weight limits, I found forum posts from people shaped like me asking if they’d be able to ride, and were met with responses that used phrases like “animal cruelty” and “Why would you think this would be ok?“, so when I saw that the weight limit for most horses in Monument Valley was 220lbs, I didn’t feel optimistic.
Imagine my surprise then, when Wild West Trailride got back to me and confirmed that, as long as I could hold my weight, I’d be fine.
We arrive the next morning at 8am sharp, dressed in the most cowpoke fashion you can imagine, and are met at the side of the road by a guy named Herb, with a pickup truck and a dog. We hop in, and travel up a dirt road where we’re met by 14 dogs and a group of horses. He explains to us that the dogs are all in fact, wild dogs that just showed up. They get released out into the wild and just come up to the nearest safe point they can find, which happens to be this small ranch.
Herb then turns to us and asks us if we’ve ridden horses before. We shake our heads, and he nods, then hands us a waiver that says any injury is on us. Feeling slightly less cocky then before, we opt to swap our shiny new cowboy hats for helmets as soon as he offers them.
After meeting our horses, Silver and Baxter, we get a quick tutorial on how to control the horse, then mount and head south west, dogs in tow. It’s a quiet morning, the only sound in the air is the clip clop of horse shoes, and the occasional car in the far distance. It doesn’t take long before I figure that riding a horse is pretty intuitive. Pull left and the horse moves left, pull right and the horse moves right. Pull straight, and the horse slows down.
If you expected the horse to go up, I’m afraid you may be mixing them up with helicopters.
Baxter is a pretty well behaved horse, he likes to take breaks on hills (preach, king, me too), and doesn’t get spooked by anything on our trip. Silver, on the other hand, is very snackish, and doesn’t like being told what to do. Not only that, he likes walking right behind the tour guide, meaning any time Baxter and I seem to be getting too close and might overtake, Silver leaps into action, sending Kymberley bouncing down the trail as they keep their spot.
And speaking of bouncing, if you ever try horse riding, learn from my mistake: go for a piss before you ride. All that shaking around made me very aware of my bodily functions.
I’ll be the first to admit, riding a horse like this is possibly the safest way to ride one. They’re broken in, trained, comfortable with strange riders, and repeating the same walk every day. But I’ll also be the first to admit I felt really jammy and good about myself when Baxter responded to me and didn’t freak out.
Within half an hour I was pretty confident that I’d be the next horse whisperer. Luckily enough, this story doesn’t end with me getting humbled with a kick in the head by a horse.
We trot around and Herb takes us around the southern side of Brigham’s Tomb, where he begins to point out interesting formations of the Stagecoach butte, named aptly after their profiles. He also points out that Metallica filmed their music video for “I Disappear” on a formation off to the right, and name drops a few other famous movies as we “ooh” and “ahh” and Silver wanders off for breakfast, Kymberley still securely sat on top.
Herb takes some time to talk to us about the business, how it’s run by his father and how he’s a mechanic, most of the time. He explains how he and his brother hunt drones for sport, and that he’s trying to build an EMP device that can fry them mid-flight. He also explains how his daughter comes riding around these parts by herself now, and that she gallops up and down across the hills, and I decide that growing up here must be the coolest fucking thing in the entire planet.
The views here were out of this world. All around us magnificent structures towered up, and out in the distance those same formations looked just like paintings on the wall of a kid’s bedroom. From this side of the butte, you can no longer hear cars, so there’s no sound except from the gentle panting of the dogs, and the occasional snort from the horses.
I don’t think I’ve ever felt such a calm and awe at the same time. If you try to imagine the exact opposite of Milton Keynes, I’m sure you can recreate the experience that I had sat on that horse on the edge of Monument Valley.
You know me, I like to wrap these things up with a bit of a moral to the story, or some important take away. I think for this one, I’m going to skirt around the whole majesty of the place, and I’m not going to do some nuanced thing about reconnecting with nature or anything like that. Instead I’m going to suggest you take the advice that Kymberley gave to me. This was something really special, and had I sat there and let money dictate that I wasn’t going to do it, I’d’ve kicked myself.
Pull your head out of your ass and grab life by the reins.
Oh, and keep reading about the rest of the visit to Monument Valley here.
You can read about the other adventures that took place during our time in Arizona at any of the links below. Get ready for cowboys, Navajo, tarantulas, horse riding, and secret paintings in the Grand Canyon!
- Herpetological Study in Arizona ✓ – Herping through Arizona meant snakes, scorpions, acid toads, tarantulas, and a very special Gila Monster – and I loved every second.
- Hold a tarantula ✓ – I’d avoided spiders my whole life, until the Arizona desert and a wise old traveller talked me into letting a tarantula crawl across my hand.
- See Monument Valley ✓ – Cowboy hats, lassos, rattlesnakes, and Monument Valley sunrises… Arizona gave me the Wild West I’d always pictured, and then some.
- See a Cave Painting ✓ – The Grand Canyon? Try the “Holy Fuck Canyon”. A brutal hike, six ancient reindeer, and an encounter with art that left me floored.
