A ride to rule them all

Daybreak in the Rees Valley, New Zealand. 

As I unzip my tent, I wonder if the horses - just a hundred metres or so nearby - slept as well as I did. There’s just a hint of morning cool, even though the days riot warm, sometimes sticky. I think of yesterday’s ‘ride-in’ to camp traversing the Dart River - dismounting our steeds and removing our riding hats, scooping them into the glacier-fed rivers to get some welcome relief as the cool water trickles down our backs. 

This morning, at camp, I inhale greedy gulps of mountain air as a peach sun smears across the sky, birdsong on a loop. We are deep in the valley today, the summit of the mountains high above our heads. Arthurs Creek Musterers Hut is home for the next two nights - a purpose-built rustic camp consisting of 8 tents and a cookhouse, situated beside a gurgling stream - perfect for your morning shower. It doesn’t get more High Country than this. 

It’s day 3 on the Glenorchy Back Country Ride - a ride that truly takes you to Paradise. My fellow riders are all Aussie women and each from a different decade; at 34 I’m the youngest by far, but over the next five days, we’ll together traverse glacier-fed rivers, plunge into waterfalls and circumnavigate snow-capped mountains, trading stories on life’s dark and light in between. 

On our first day we arrive at High Country Horses’ Glenorchy base, a 50 minute drive out of Queenstown. Positioned at the foot of Mt. Alfred and the site of innumerable Hollywood film sets from years gone by, it’s a humble home for the business, started by Deanna Insley in 2004. It’s now grown to be the largest equine trekking business in all of New Zealand, but the service remains as authentic as they come. They offer rides for all ages and abilities, from the one hour Mid River Ride, the four day Misty Mountain Spectacular and of course the jewel in its crown, the five day, four night Back Country Ride. 

The first order of business is matching us with our steeds. A quiet hush falls over the room as names are called; furtive glances are exchanged with the other women, nerves exposed. As any equestrienne will know, the nature of your mount can make or break your experience, but we needn’t worry - all of High Country Horses’ 100-strong herd are calm, capable and sure-footed; a mixture of Quarter Horses, Gypsy Cobs and New Zealand Stationbreds. I’m paired with Cashout, or ‘Cash’, a 16hh Stationbred with a calm, gentle demeanour. Sinking into the saddle for the first time, I immediately feel at home - the saddles are comfortable, and attached are saddle bags big enough to house your water bottle, a waterproof and your lunch for the day. It means you need only ride along and take in the otherworldly and jaw-dropping landscapes of which, rest assured, there are many. Once we’re all on board, we set off towards the Dart Valley, the rhythmic sound of hooves on asphalt the only soundtrack to our thoughts. 

From the skies, Wakatipu Basin looks to be criss-crossed with braided rivers, the veins and arteries acting as the oxygen supply in this water-dwelling part of the world. In spring, swathes of flowering pink and purple lupin flowers line the riverbanks, a scene as synonymous with Glenorchy as the Lord of the Rings trilogy. The first time we cross one of the cerulean blue rivers, we’re told to make sure our horses are straight and to keep moving. I marvel at how the horses always seem to find their footing, no matter the entry or how rough the terrain; I give Cash his head, and it’s as if he’s saying in return, ‘I’ve got this’. 

As we ride, our guides Sean and Patty point out locations used to film some of the biggest Hollywood blockbusters of years gone by - The Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, Mission Impossible and The Lion, The Witch & The Wardrobe. In a valley so peaceful you could hear a pin drop, it’s hard to picture a bustling film set, a hive of activity. Lunchtimes, we soon learn, are enjoyed under the shade of a beech tree, or any other suitable resting spot. The horses wear headcollars under their bridles, and so it’s easy to loop them onto an errant branch or study-looking stump while we enjoy our tuckerbox. It’s our first opportunity to look into the faces of our fellow comrades, exhale from a morning of physical activity and mountain air, and refuel the reserves. 

The first night’s camp is the Shearers Quarters, nestled on the 37,000 acre Rees Valley Station which borders the World Heritage-listed Mount Aspiring National Park. Camp supplies - including both horse feed and human food - have been driven ahead by High Country’s very own ‘Camp Fairy’ volunteers, so it’s all set up for our arrival. Following a tasty meal cooked to perfection by Patty and Sean, darkness soon falls and wine is imbibed; somehow, we are more vulnerable when the light has faded. Slowly, stories flow about love and loss, about divorce and the rebuilding of lives. Milestone birthdays loom; a contemplation at a fork in the road. As the night concludes, we pad back to our dwelling, past the coral of the horses who are lit only by the light of our torches. The sounds, though are unmistakable - a soft whicker, the rhythmic footfall of hooves. 

The next four days that follow see us traverse, gasp and marvel at the spectacular Back Country wilderness, moving from dense beech tree forests to wide open sheep tracks, crossing endless rivers and streams, and always in the shadow of a mountain - still snow-capped, despite the 30°C days. We are never short of awe and wonder; on a humid day 2, we remove saddles to ‘swim’ downstream with the horses, gliding down the glacial waters like weightless 500kg ballerinas. The following day, we corral the horses and make a short walk up to a waterfall, stepping into its forceful, cleansing stream - hearts beating fast and chests compressing. The effects are myriad - your skin is soft, your hair clean. You feel completely alive. For those that are game, there are fitful gallops and longer canters; a physical communion with almost 500kg of muscle, murmurs of appreciation, creaking leather. The horses blow heavy after a five minute canter across fields dotted with sheep, and my lower back aches in agreement. 

On the penultimate day we ride past the shores of Lake Diamond and onwards to Paradise, a remote farming village home to just a handful of Kiwis and a sweeping, chocolate-box homestead known as Miller House. Designed by New Zealand’s first architect William Mason in 1883, it served as guest house for many years, but these days is operated by the Paradise Trust, whose goal is to ensure guests experience a simple and more contemplative way of life through hosting guests in the many cottages and huts around the property. High Country Horses partner with the Paradise Trust to ensure they are the only trekking business with the right to ride over this very land, such is the dedication to conservation and to preserving a culture of living more simply. 

As we near the end of our adventure, I reflect on what it is that makes this part of the world so special. There is a lightness of being here; the Kiwi Back Country has that effect on you, inviting you to stop - stop scrolling, stop rushing, stop worrying. 

There is also something immensely special about having experienced the call of the wild with a group of women, of all ages and from all walks of life. Being together in the wilderness reveals the contours of daily life, and how we all like to live; those that are early to bed and rise with the sun, those that start the day with a steaming cup of tea or prefer a cold plunge to awaken the senses. There are the talkers, and the listeners, and those that sit in between, knowing when to nod and murmur. We met as strangers, but leave having shared a sense of camaraderie, and belonging to an unspoken community. It’s an experience I’ll remember forever.