than normal. Uh oh! I thought, it’s gonna be a long week.

My fears were alleviated when Myfanwy asked if everyone was okay.  Ben shouted “That was great!” and a smile of satisfaction lit up the faces of Jan and Elizabeth. We walked on the road to let the horses cool off and then followed a muddy path down into the woods.  The low branches of the dense pine forest brushed over our heads on the steep terrain and I leaned way back, limbo style, to keep from being decapitated. Riding in Wales is not for the faint of heart.   At the bottom of the path we trotted across a stream as water splashed high on everyone’s legs.  I just love the sound of hoofs beating against water. The trail reconnected to the forestry service roads that led back to the barn. 

Mid-Wales is a patchwork of open fields and dense pine forest plantations over rolling hills and valleys. You either have an open sweeping view or you’re shrouded in the pines. The forestry service roads are hard-packed dirt and fine gravel that make ideal, wide bridal trails. And nearly every field is populated with sheep. Did you know that there are six sheep to every person in Wales? Some sheep and lambs ran up to the fence as we walked by and brayed non-stop while other lambs frolicked in the distance.  The two-hour ride was meant as a warm-up for the next few days. Back at the barn, we helped Myfanwy clean and blanket the horses and turned them out into the pasture. One horse, Mr. Pickwick (AKA Mr. P.) lived in a field on the other side of town, Llanwyrtd Wells, and Myfanwy rode him home.

Llanwrtyd is the smallest town in Britain.  Don’t even try to pronounce it or most other Welsh words.  Welsh sounds a lot like people coughing up phlegm.  Llanwyrtd is a destination for riders, mountain bikers, hikers and bird watching enthusiasts.  It’s also home of the International Man Versus Horse competition. Up to 300 individual runners and several dozen three-person relay teams compete in a 22-mile race against riders. So far, the horse has always won. The town also hosts a bog-snorkeling race where competitors swim through a peat bog. There are several inns and B&Bs in town, but we rented the house next to the barn. In rural towns, houses have names, not numbers. The charming stone rental house is named Maes Y Gwaleod. It has four bedrooms and two-and-a-half baths. I started a pot of tea in the kitchen as we all collectively groaned and sighed.  After any ride, you need to either have a cup of tea or a pint of ale. 

We decided to stay in and cooked a simple vegetarian pasta with a side of salad and garlic bread.   A couple of bottles of wine between the five of us, combined with jet-lag, and we all were ready for an early bedtime.

It rains a lot in Wales. Karen and I had full length wax riding coats plus single layer Gortex jackets and pants as a back-up. We warned our friends to be similarly prepared.  The following morning (Monday), however, skies once again shone clear and blue. Well, blue-gray, to be honest.  A young girl named Anna Lisa from Germany joined us for a four-hour ride to Blue Bell Farm, a beautiful stone farmhouse several miles outside of town. This time our friends were better prepared whenever Myfanwy shouted “Everyone ready for a canter?”  If we were lucky we’d get in about four or five controlled strides before it turned into a day at the races. Karen and I just loved the freedom of the wild runs and Ben was becoming a convert of extreme gallops.

Myfanwy had begun to train a new horse, Maddie, for trekking.  Maddie was rather green and not used to running with the herd. “Maddie is MAD!” Elizabeth commented.  Whenever Maddie spooked, it stirred up the rest of the horses. I again rode Merlin, the spunky Palomino.  Karen rode no-brakes Bess. Ben sat tall on the 17-hand distinguished Mr. P.  Jan, Ben’s wife, always seemed to be taking up the rear on the gray and dependable Gypsy.  And Elizabeth, as Myfanwy put it, “fit quite nicely” on the fidgety 6 year old Bay Breeze. Afterwards we cleaned up and drove to the town of Brecon to sightsee, shop and have dinner.  Unfortunately, it was a bank holiday and almost everything was closed, but we found a lovely atrium restaurant at a hotel and enjoyed a light dinner of jacket potatoes (a baked potato with a choice of stuffing) and salads… and pints of ale, of course.

The next morning (Tuesday) our friends complained their bottoms were sore. The third day of riding is always the worst on the body.  Myfanwy devised a plan of doing a two-hour ride in the morning that returned to the barn, and then anyone who wanted to continue riding could go out for another couple of hours. With the option of this short ride, Karen decided to test her riding skills on Maddie. Karen always has a calming effect on hot horses. It didn’t work.  Maddie spooked in a narrow gully a few fields away from the stables. To make things easy, Karen took Maddie back while the rest of us continued on. 

It was a wonderful ride down past a historic stone church and several graveyards. We hacked up a steep rocky hill, galloped through the forest and finished the ride trotting through a meadow with four water-filled ditches to jump.  Ben and Jan were ecstatic on having their first opportunity to jump.  Jan, Ben and Elizabeth had their fill after our return.  So Karen, on Bess, and I went out by ourselves for the afternoon ride.  Myfanwy told me to reverse the route.  I reviewed the landmarks with Myfanwy for the various turns and Karen and I set off.  Karen, however, kept questioning me because she was sure that I’d get us lost. She of little faith!!!  With only two of us out in the Welsh countryside, it was one of the best rides of my life. Having visited the country five times now, it felt like home.

We dined in town that night at one of several pubs, our favorite, the Stonecroft.  Each night the pub offers a different form of entertainment - local bands, dart tournaments, etc.  Tuesday night is quiz night. Locals compete for prizes by answering trivia questions. There are several rounds of questions and competitors fill out their answers on cards.  Elizabeth didn’t clue into the rules right away and kept shouting out answers to the questions… much to the annoyance of the emcee.

Wednesday greeted us once more with fair skies.  Our friends were starting to doubt our tales of long rides in the rain. I just love to ride in a cool rain on a gray day. There’s a sensation of conquering the elements and an added exhilaration when cantering along in wind driven rain. That morning Mr. P’s back was a little sore and Myfanwy re-arranged horses to give Mr. P a lighter load.  Karen rode Breeze, Ben took Merlin and I mounted Bess. Elizabeth rode Mr. P, who she had been eyeing all week.  

I found that keeping Bess at a slow walk was like doing chin-ups non-stop, an endless series of checks and half-halts. She was an incredibly strong horse and wanted to go. I don’t know how Karen managed it. I was somewhat worried that Ben would have troubles with Merlin, but Ben soon figured out how to deal with Merlin’s eccentricities and needing to be near the front of the herd.  We actually managed several long controlled canters much to everyone’s surprise.  And even Maddie behaved well, only spooking once near the end of the four-hour ride.  A patch of yellow tulips swayed in the wind and this was quite frightening!

We ate in the other pub, Bassets, that night and spent some time talking with the former school headmaster, Brin, over a pint.  He told us some of the history of the town and suggested several castles and abbeys to see.

Thursday was the pre-planned day of giving our bottoms a rest before an all-day ride on Friday.   Upon Brin’s recommendations we visited Carreg Cennen Castle and Tally Abbey.  Carreg Cennen sits atop a 300-foot-high limestone cliff and is the only truly Welsh castle. The structure is mostly in ruins now with just the walls and a few interior rooms remaining. It was ordered destroyed in 1462 after the War of the Roses, but workers never completed the demolition. Despite being incomplete, the castle is a spectacular site with impressive views of the surrounding countryside.  Talley Abbey also stands in ruins with just a few walls surviving.  The austere gray stone, arched walls next to an ancient cemetery created an eerie sense of foreboding.

A light drizzle showered us Friday morning as we set out. Myfanwy decided to give Maddie another day off and he rode Bess while Karen rode Barnaby, who Anna Lisa had ridden earlier in the week. And I had my turn on Mr. P. We rode through town and up into open pastures with views of the Brecon Beacons, a national park and a long series of bald mountain ridges. As skies cleared, Ben declared that it looked like we’d be spared any real rain. I knew right then we’d be in for a soaker.

We followed a long path down into a secluded valley and then galloped back up. It took us a half an hour to make the journey down but only two minutes to return.  We climbed higher up through fields of sheep that brayed to us in deafening chorus.  The fluffy beasts began to surround us and for a few minutes I was worried that they were about to attack us like in Hitchcock’s movie “The Birds.”  We survived the encounter and passed through a gate to a long up sloping field called the race track.  With everyone collected, Myfanwy once again wryly asked “rRady for a canter?”  The horses took off in a mad dash. Clumps of mud and grass came whizzing by my head as I tried to weave to the front of the pack. As I neared the top of the hill I thought I heard Jan screaming.  Initially I thought that Jan had lost her stirrups as she had done earlier in the day.  But Jan was fine…..it was Elizabeth.  She had become unseated when Breeze had bucked hard trying to catch up.  Elizabeth had the wind knocked out of her but was otherwise fine.  The soft earth had cushioned her fall.  We switched off and I rode Breeze while Elizabeth mounted Mr. P.   Then it started to rain. 

At the furthest point away the rain came down in buckets.  We walked and trotted the rest of the way home down through trails with long, muddy puddles the size of small lakes.  Mud splashed up all around us.  Karen and I stayed dry in our wax coats.   Our friends’ waterproof jackets, however, didn’t protect their legs.  We rode for almost three hours in the rain and I was sure that our friends would hate me when we got back to the stable, especially Elizabeth.  But they were all happy and talking about when they could return to Wales.  Go figure!  I guess I’m not the only person who enjoys riding in the rain.

We finished the week off with dinner at the Drover’s Rest, a four-star gourmet restaurant that seems out of place in such a small town.  The food was wonderful, as usual, and the desserts were even better. Afterwards, we drank wine and talked most of the night sitting by the wood burning stove in the living room of Maes Y Gwaleod, our home away from home. 

Now it’s become home to our friends as well.