Wet And Wild
The mechanical horses beneath the bonnet of our car seemed to be straining at the bit, they wanted to gallop to the bottom of the Bombay Hills. I gave them reign. With the window wound down again I felt the wind on my face and I was reminded of the feeling I had as a teenager when I turned Mr Jim’s face to home.
Mr Jim was a grey gelding, a former show jumper and supposedly in retirement but some youthful remembrance always prompted the same inherent response in him, to go hard and go home! As most riders know, the feel of the power of a horse hitting its stride can be both exhilarating and frightening at the same time. Why? Because unbridled horse power has to be felt to be understood. It’s really is powerful.
Despite the pace at which we pass, I’m acutely aware that on either side of State Highway One there are both large and small areas of wetlands. Along the Hauraki Plains, 70 km northeast of Hamilton is
Kopuatai Peat Dome. I mention this one specifically because at “10,201ha, it is the largest unaltered restiad peat bog in New Zealand and is also unique globally (hence its Ramsar status, a term adopted following an international conference, held in 1971 in Ramsar in Iran, to identify wetland sites of international importance).”
“The physical features of the peat dome and in particular the mineralised swamps play an important role in flood control and protection as they provide storage for floodwater from the Piako and Waitoa catchments. Fifty four species of birds have been recorded in Kopuatai (27 protected, 17 unprotected and 10 game birds).
The threatened Australasian bittern (Botaurus poiciloptilus) is found in the wetland along with banded rail (Rallus philipensis assimillis), marsh crake (Porzana pusilla affinis) and the North Island fernbird (Bowdleria punctata vealeae). Along with these, the waters of Kopuatai contain a number of important fish species including black mudfish (Neochanna diversus) and the endemic long finned eels (Anguilla dieffencachii).” But I was too preoccupied to really appreciate these educative thoughts.
My mind was back on Sugarloaf flats, with Mr Jim and his go hard, go home response to the wind on his face. He’d go from a trot (a steady 2-beat movement where his gait had a period of suspension). It sprung from one diagonal to the other. In between these springs, his four legs were off the ground and since the trot is two beats each stride and a moment in mid-air, it was more comfortable for me (and Mr Jim) to rise up and down from the saddle every-other beat, this is called “posting”.
I think his muscle-memory often kicked in intuitively because he’d begin to canter (a 3-beat movement where his gait had a period of suspension after each stride). This gait would start with the hind leg then lead to the front in a rocking motion. When I cantered, I’d keep my seat in the saddle unlike in the trot.
And finally he’d just stride out to a gallop (a 4-beat movement where his gait was similar to the canter, but his legs moved one at a time). Galloping feels just like a fast canter so when I was riding him at a gallop, I’d rise up out of the saddle slightly and put my weight on my heels. Then we’d fly like the wind, across the flats, to home. Today I am going some place that has the sense of home but isn’t my home, how can that be? Do you know it this feeling?
