Horses do like to be beside the seaside. It’s hardly surprising – most riding
school horses spend their working lives trudging around the same old
paddocks or familiar trails, waiting patiently to be led back to their
stables for a well earned rest.
But give them a beach as far as the eyes can see, the tang of the sea and a
fresh onshore breeze, and it’s a different story. The ears prick up, the
tails switch, and it’s no longer how to get them going but how to get them
to stop.
So I was happy to be assured by a stable lass at the Murthwaite Green Trekking
Centre in Cumbria that my cob Joe was a fairly placid big fellow. He’ll be
happy to go off at a canter if you like, but shorten the reins and pull him
in and he’ll slow down no problem, she said. We tried this in the paddock
and it worked, so off we went at a steady walk with four other riders and a
couple of instructors.
The centre lies in the coastal hamlet of Silecroft, where the Lake District
National Park runs down to the Irish Sea. It is a quiet place with no
through traffic, and so ideal for a leisurely start to our ride.
To a gentle clip-clop of hooves on tarmac, we passed the Miners Arms (Free
House, traditional ales) and the Post Office and General Store (props. Julie
& Dave), and then into open countryside where tractors were tilling fields
surrounded by clouds of hopeful gulls.
The sun was high in a blue sky, the horses were stepping out smartly, and all
seemed right with the world.
The beach was barely a mile away, and it seemed to go on forever. A stony
foreshore gave way to tidal sands and the steely shimmer of the sea, and
there was hardly anybody to be seen. On the landward side there were four
houses, a handful of wooden shacks, and one ice cream van doing a slow trade
with small huddles of day trippers sheltering behind wind breaks.
It was pretty brave of them to be there, given danger signs placed by the
health and safety brigade, warning of currents, tides, quicksand, strong
winds and submerged objects. Not to mention HM Forces blasting away at the
sea with tank shells and other assorted ordnance at a firing range a couple
of miles up the coast.
Horses did not appear to be on the danger list, however, so as soon as we were
clear of the picnic spots, Joe was given the nod to do his stuff. And off he
went.
The essential thrill of horse riding by the sea is a bit like being on the sea
in a sailing boat – a sense of freedom in a natural environment, with no
limitations other than those of your horse or your boat. Both require a
measure of poise and confidence, with a dash of devil may care attitude.
Throw in exhilaration, wind in your hair, and the controlled power of a
cantering horse or billowing sail and you have the general picture.
Joe was as good as the stable lass’s word, slowing to a trot and a walk when
asked to, and picking up speed again when given the go-ahead. In the far
distance, people by the shore were reduced to Lilliputian figures in a hazy
dream world, matchstick men and women who shimmered in the heat like
mirages. Among them terns, oyster-catchers and ringed plovers busied
themselves on nesting and breeding duties, scraping the shingle over their
camouflaged eggs.
Our excursion was billed as a three-hour picnic ride, and soon keen appetites
were felt – but the ‘picnic’ was a disappointment. Clients are required to
provide their own food and drink, which is fair enough, but the spot chosen
by the ride leader was bizarre.
Among miles of sand dunes and scrub she led us to a tidal rubbish dump of
plastic bottles and other flotsam and jetsam deposited by spring tides. Add
to this that there was nowhere to tether the horses, and you have unhappy
campers.
Eating and drinking while holding on to the reins of a horse intent on eating
grass somewhere else is a skill that eluded us. A couple of tethering poles
or lines at a more agreeable spot would have made for a fine picnic. Instead
we were left to blunder around in the rubbish, and it was a relief to mount
up again and head for home.
At least we missed the go-karters, or quad bikers, or whoever they were,
making an infernal din on a race circuit out of sight beyond the dunes. They
started up as we rode by, and it was like leaving behind a swarm of angry
hornets.
The ride itself was enjoyable, even for novices in our group. John Walton, an
estate agent from Surrey, and his wife Lynne had come along to accompany
their 11-year-old daughter who had been riding for a couple of years.
Their experience amounted to a couple of days, and they were pleased with
their progress. “It’s fun for beginners, and they’ve been very patient with
us,” said John. Lynn considered the picnic ride good value, as it was the
same price as a one-hour lesson for her daughter at home.
Joe clearly enjoyed it, picnic or not. It beats slouching around a muddy
paddock any day.
NEED TO KNOW
Murthwaite Green Trekking Centre, Silecroft, Cumbria (01229.770876, www.murthwaitegreen.co.uk)
has beach rides for experienced riders from £17, and for all abilities from
£20. The 2½-3 hour picnic beach rides (bring your own picnic) are £35, and
half-day beach and fell rides are £50.
is there any more pictures, for me to see.
Claire, silecroft , cumbria