Riding by Faith from Mexico to Canada
by Tracey
Elliot-Reep
Riding solo from the border of Mexico several thousand
miles to Canada through the Rocky Mountains was the most challenging expedition,
I have yet attempted.
“Why aren’t you carrying a gun? There’re
poisonous snakes and weeds. Wild
animals and people. Lightening, flash floods and tournedos. Storms. You’ll kill
your horses.” Came some of the warnings. BUT GOD!
I had faith that God had His angels protecting my horses and me. Fear is
the opposite of faith and can stop us doing what we believe we should do.
I had grown up on a pony stud farm in South West England.
When I was young riding my 12 hand high Dartmoor pony, I dreamt of being a
cowboy and Indian on horseback in the Wild West of America! Just surviving
school, I left at sixteen and did a pre-degree course in art and design and then
not getting onto the fine art degree course I wanted, I joined the circus
instead. Later, I completed a documentary photography course and worked
freelance for magazines for several years before starting my own business, with
six postcards of the Dartmoor National Park where I lived in a small caravan
(trailer) with my Jack Russell dog in South West England. Through faith and hard
work the business gradually expanded with more postcards, followed by greeting
cards, calendars and then books. www.traceyelliotreep.com
At sixteen I embarked on my first long ride with my sister
and a couple of friends when we rode around Dartmoor National Park. The four
days seemed like a long journey back then, because our packhorse, wearing a
packsaddle made of two hessian bags sown together, would either charge off,
unpacking himself or refused to move at all!
Becoming exasperated, sun and wind burnt I thought then, long distance
riding wasn’t for me. I still occasionally have these thoughts re-occurring on
my journeys!
The second longer ride was our route of 2,000
miles the length of both the North and South Island of New Zealand.
Following that ride, I had a ten-year period working on my own card
business and the first book. Once I had had that published I needed some fresh
air. So I went to Scotland to find some Scottish Highland ponies and rode south
to Lands’ End, the southern tip of England. The following year I rode around the
South west of Ireland.
I love the adventure of riding by faith, meeting new people
and taking photographs of different landscapes; it’s people and their way of
life. People ask me how I can afford to do these rides. I laugh, as I have never
seemed to have the funds altogether when I embark on an expedition! But I like
what the Bible says, “if you wait for perfect conditions you will never get
anything done.” When a friend and I
first arrived in New Zealand with a dream to ride our own horses the length of
both Islands we only had $120 between us but we believed all things are possible
with God!
On and after my rides I like to do some fundraising for
charities especially children/horse ones like Riding for the Disabled
/Handicapped. Either with a bucket on the rides, like in New Zealand; riding
down the main street of the capital city of Wellington where we collected over
NZ$1000 which Monty, our pack horse knocked all over the street! Or, by
presenting amusing photographic talks. I don’t use any of the money I fund raise
for my horses or own expenses and when my money runs out I just have to rely on
God even more!
The ride from Mexico to Canada began 18 months
ago when I suddenly had an urge to ride in America. My question was, where
though? Riding thousands of miles
across the flat prairie didn’t appeal to me at all. A friend lent me a film
based on a true story about when mechanism was replacing horsepower in the US
cavalry, the government ordered several hundred horses south to Mexico to be
destroyed. The soldiers and the officer couldn’t bear to see their horses
destroyed so they kidnapped them and herded them north into the Rockies. It was
when the soldiers asked the officer where they were going and he replied to
Canada, that my heart leapt and I knew that was my destination! I would start
from Texas.
But I had no connections with anyone in Texas, until I
visited a chapel in Haselbury Plucknett in Somerset, England and met a Texan
lady Tanya, who invited me to stay with her in Palo Pinto County, near Fort
Worth, Texas. Two weeks before I was due to leave I met another Texan who was a
minister in the famous local Prison on Dartmoor. He suggested I get in touch
with an uncle of his who bred quarter horses in East Texas.
Larry and karon Joiner of LK quarter horses had a 10 year
old gelding for sale called Smokey, who was over my budget and I thought too
highly qualified as a cutting horse to go trekking. He had a neighbour who had a
red roan who was green and fast.
It was November and I was on my way from
England to New Zealand for business so on route I dropped in to see these horses
and others in the area. I wasn’t sure at all about which horses to purchase but
it was three months later when some friends were praying for me before leaving
New Zealand bound for Texas and the start of the ride.
“I see a red horse going before you, like a war
horse and I see a white horse beside you, strengthening and comforting you.” He
said.
“You
didn’t know I had looked at two horses in Texas a red roan and a grey horse, who
was almost white!” I replied. I discovered Smokey’s and Pistol’s characters were
even as the prophecy described. Smokey, “the white horse” was friendly and one I
could depend on and Pistol was “the red charger!” If they had not been God’s
choice of horses for this expedition I wouldn’t have bought them, as when I
returned to East Texas, Smokey had been borrowed by a rough rider which resulted
in him having some bad saddle and girth sores and Pistol went wild when the
farrier attempted to put shoes on him. Two of the most important things for long
distance riding I have learnt are, to have horses with good backs and feet. But
here I was starting with one horse with saddle sores and the other who was wild
at being shod! Although, I didn’t have time to hang around as I had to be at the
start at Big Bend National Park in south West Texas the following week as the
film people had already been paid a lot of money whether I was there or not.
I didn’t have much time to gather all the equipment I
needed. I visited this huge saddlery outlet near Fort Worth and tried sitting in
a few of the 300 colourful Western saddles on display.
The few times I have ridden western I have discovered my body wasn’t made
for Western saddles. The conclusion I came to is, I grew up riding either with
no saddle or English style and my bones and muscles have formed that way. I was
invited to try another saddle, which was called a Bronco Poley. Immediately, I
sat in that comfortable saddle with its so many useful attachments. I knew and
muttered “God, this is the saddle I want!”
As the outlet owner didn’t want to sponsor me with this
saddle I went straight to the manufacturer, Colin Danguaard of the Australian
Stock Saddle Company.
“When do you
want it by?” Colin asked with
his Australian accent, seemingly out of context as I was surrounded by all these
Texas drawls!
“Next week.” I replied and he said he would see
what he had available but the days past and I heard nothing. Some friends had
given me one western saddle to hold the pack bags so it looked as though I was
riding bareback until two days before leaving.
“I have a saddle for you,” Colin Danguaard
confirmed. “I’ll send it on for you to collect on route”
“When you opened the box your face looked like
as though it was Christmas!” A lady remarked when I unpacked the shinning Bronco
Poley Saddle at the Big Bend Saddlery in Alpine Texas. In the box were also some
tough wither bags, which are used by the U.S Special Forces in Afghanistan for
M4 rifles and also for the US border patrol. In the box I found some unexpected
extras; a bridle and breastplate, along with a water bottle and torch
(flashlight) accessories.
This Bronco Poley Saddle Colin sponsored me
with, along with a bedroll I had been lent were my luxuries for this expedition!
The saddle survived Pistol rolling right over on it. Hanging upside down
underneath Smokey as he galloped off having been spooked by a wild animal before
I had done up the girth (cinch) to get on that particular morning!
I used all the numerous attachments. One of the
most useful was the “D” on the back of the cantle. To save having one of my arm
lengthened by leading Pistol who usually carried the pack I attached the lead
rope to a pig string which was attached to the substantial
‘D’. Then only in emergencies the string would break, rather than Pistol
taking Smokey and me with him down a mountain drop. I used the Bronco Poley both
on Smokey and Pistol over a woolen saddle blanket and they never got saddle
sores. It was comfortable for us all!
Although Pistol got sore over his withers from the packsaddle when he
lost weight so I tried more blankets and took any and every opportunity to feed
them both up with grain and hay. In the Wild West the Australian Bronco Poley
saddle was quite a novelty and many people had to try it out! Even the chip
monks loved it and one night ate through part of the leather water holder
attachment!
It took six months to ride form Mexico to
Canada north through Texas over the Guadalupe Mountains into New Mexico, through
Santa Fe and into Colorado. Following the Rockies into Wyoming, Yellowstone
National Park and through Montana to the Border of Canada where we were guests
with the Blackfeet Tribe. We made many new friends. The western hospitality was
amazing as we were invited to stay on ranches, and camped in people’s town back
gardens (yards), in the forest, deserts and on mountains.
| 
