Tag Archives: horse riding

Horses + Nature = Much Needed Getaway to Chaowanat Horse Farm

As our fall break approached, I knew I wanted to spend some time in nature. I also missed the presence of horses in my life. Fortunately, a friend recommended a perfect option: Chaowanat Horse Farm, a picturesque retreat located along a river and surrounded by low mountains, just a 3-hour drive away.

This was the view from our room. My plan was to sit on the deck all day with a book and a beer, but there were no chairs (or beers). The wooden bench that surrounded the deck was crawling with thousands of massive orange ants. Not very inviting.

The property featured a cozy restaurant and coffee shop, a massive garden, the stables, an arena, and plenty of green spaces. The owner was out of town, so his son checked us in to our room. I told him we wanted to plan some excursions, and he suggested it would be nearly impossible to get a taxi to pick us up. That was discouraging. We had hired a driver to take us to the farm, and after he left, we realized we were about 40 minutes from Kanchaburi town.

We booked a horse ride for the next morning but discovered we couldn’t go tubing on the river because the water level was too low. I was getting a little cranky.

Tony and I lounged around the restaurant for a bit, ate lunch, went for a walk, checked out the horses, and then wandered back to the room. “I know what I need from this break, and I’m afraid I’m not going to get it,” I told him. I didn’t want to sit on the bed in an over airconditioned room for four days.

The next morning we met our cowboy guide, Ek, and our horses. Tony rode a stallion named Diamond, and I rode a gelding named Spicy. Ek told us they were American Quarterhorses. Something in my head shifted the minute I landed in the saddle. Horse energy gets me every time, and despite his name, Spicy was a sweet and gentle soul.

Ek led us out of the farm along muddy paths throughout the countryside. To be honest, Tony and I thought we were seeing marijuana plants. Thailand recently legalized weed, so we innocently assumed it was a cash crop. It’s clearly not an area of expertise for us. Ek clarified that the plants were actually cassava, one of Thailand’s major export products. If you’re as clueless about cassava as I was, check this out.

As we passed this herd of cattle, Ek laughed about how horses and cows in Thailand get spooked by each other. Ek had traveled to Texas once and appreciated that cowboy lifestyle. “No cutting here,” he laughed, referring to the use of horses to round up individual cows in a herd. Side note: How much do you love the floppy ears on these cows?

We emerged in a big meadow at one point, where Ek dismounted and hunkered down behind a clump of flowers.

“Go!” he shouted to us.

“Go where?” we asked each other.

We aimlessly wandered around until he finally got back on his horse and took the lead. A similar thing happened when we reached the river. “Go!” he shouted.

“Are we crossing the river?” I asked.

“No cross. Just go,” he said.

We clomped around in the shallow water, let the horses take a drink, and watched a little boy from the farm splash around. It was confusing.

Later, we realized Ek was taking photos and video of us. We were hopelessly noncompliant models. In retrospect, it was kind of hilarious. There are videos where we are just sitting still, staring at him. I’m sure he expected us to prance around a bit and exhibit some level of drama. Lesson learned.

As we were riding back to the farm, I said to Tony, “You know how I said I wasn’t getting what I needed from this break? Well, I’m getting it now!” I’m sure he was relieved.

After spending the next day touring some nearby sights, we headed back to Bangkok a day early, not because of any fault with the horse farm. It was bad planning on my part not to realize how isolated we would be.

The experience of travel can feel like one rookie mistake after another, even when you’ve been wandering the earth as long as we have. Each new place poses a learning curve. Fortunately, living abroad provides opportunities for a re-do. We definitely want to revisit this area of Thailand, but next time we’ll drive ourselves, stay somewhere with comfortable outdoor seating, and spend a day back at Chaowanat for a little horse time.

By the way, after checking out Chaonawat’s Instagram, I now realize we dropped the ball. We should have dressed up for lovely shots like this. Oh well, next time.

Back in the saddle – Horseback riding in New Delhi

One morning during water aerobics, our instructor Sherry said, “Wow, I’m so sore from riding yesterday.” I assumed she meant bike riding, so this was my inner monologue: “Mmmm… I sure miss my bike … I especially miss riding my bike in Laos. Sure wish I could do that here, but too many potholes, cows, cars, and the air pollution would kick my butt. Dang, I just can’t cope…”

Sherry’s voice interrupted. “… so we kept trotting for a really long time.”

(Insert sound effect of screeching needle on a record.)

Wait. Trotting? Maybe Sherry hadn’t been on a bike, after all. “When you say ‘riding,’ do you mean HORSEBACK riding?” I asked her. Sure enough. Sherry leases a horse at a nearby stable. For about $200 a month, you can LEASE a horse! A handler feeds it, grooms it and exercises it every day. If you decide to go for a ride, the handler saddles up your horse and then sticks around to put everything away and give the horse a bath after your ride. All of the fun and none of the work? Where do I sign?

Friend and fellow water-aerobicizer, Holli, also expressed enthusiasm for horse leasing, so we joined Sherry at the stable a few days later. Side note: The stable is located in a district called Race Course, but Holli and I mistakenly went to the ACTUAL race course, which is a creepy place full of desperate men and absolutely no women … other than us. We quickly realized we were in the wrong place and jumped back in the car for the short drive to the Children’s Riding Club.
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That’s right. The CHILDREN’S Riding Club.

Holli and I inquired about leasing horses, but ultimately decided to take lessons instead (on borrowed horses). We clipped on our new black velvet helmets and joined the line-up at the mounting block. Sherry, Holli and I joined about 6 youngsters in the arena for a riding lesson. The youngest, atop a white pony, appeared to be around 5 years old.

I’m pretty sure my assigned horse, Magic, rolled his eyes when he saw me coming. Despite years of lessons and horse ownership in my pre-teen years, I flopped around like a fish in the saddle. The stirrup straps pinched my flailing calves, and my girl parts took a beating. Even more humiliating, a handler held Magic’s bridle, walking and jogging alongside until I smiled and asked, “What’s your name?” He muttered, “Arif,” and hastily dashed away. “Thank you, Arif,” I called out. Maybe he thought I was dismissing him, but really I just wanted to express my appreciation. I completed the lesson without Arif and, thankfully, without incident.

There was no denying we were still in India. To reach the arena, we walked past what appeared to be an ancient ruin, but large dumpsters overflowing with garbage blotted the landscape. Dogs and dog-sized crows rummaged through the rubbish while we breathed through our mouths. However, the riding club itself was clean and well-maintained with scrubbed concrete stalls and small smokey fires to deter the nasty biting flies. The horses – all retired race horses! – seemed healthy with shiny coats and high spirits. The arena was smallish but served the purpose, despite several large trees springing out of the middle (anyone else foresee a cartoon-like distracted rider trotting along, looking backwards just in time to get smacked off her horse by a tree branch?). A large pool of mosquito-breeding water worried me in this season of dengue fever, but it was filled with fresh dirt within a week.
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The riding school director, Anu, was a small no-nonsense woman who stood in the middle of the arena barking out instructions and correcting our form. At times, she got frustrated with the children who lazily let their horses call the shots, but I appreciated her genuine love and concern for the horses.
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Look at this cute little sign she posted at the entrance.
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Happy Holli at the end of our first ride.
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Me feeding a carrot to Magic while Arif glares at me.
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On our second visit, the handler saddled up a large gelding named Grey Gaston for me. The monsoon season brings out some nasty flies, which were driving the horse insane. When we were moving, he was compliant, but whenever we stopped to hear Anu’s lesson, he kicked, twisted and writhed around to elude the flies so much I thought he might toss me.

At one point, Anu shouted, “Check your diagonals!” Hmmm… diagonals? That sounded familiar, but my brain must have locked up all my horse vernacular with the rest of my junior-high wisdom (maybe in a cerebral box titled “Braces and Home Perms”). Fortunately, Anu explained: Diagonals refer to your posting position when the horse trots. When the horse’s inside leg is forward, you come up out of the saddle, and when the outside leg is forward, you sit back down. Right! I knew that!

Back in the day, my horse Princess threw me countless times. Scrapes, nasty bruises and concussions were a regular part of my adolescent life. These days, I know my body would not recover quickly from a fall, so that fear lingers. But by the end of our second lesson with Anu, I was starting to feel more confident. She provided some guidance that kept me from flopping around so much, and I could feel myself panicking less and enjoying the experience. It was all coming back… The more I can relax my mind, the more I can dredge up that junior-high understanding of horses and the beauty they can bring to my life.