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It was July 11th 1998 when I landed late in the evening in Toronto. Coming from South America, the first couple of days I spent with enjoying civilization, buying some tools for the trip: a cell phone, a GPS, maps, saddle, tack, a whistle to frighten the Bears and other small useful things. I also talked to people who may know somebody selling a suitable horse. Finally on July 20th I found the mare I would buy a couple of days later: a Quarter Horse mare, dun, 16 years old, trained in english and western, listening to the name of Angel. “I have a dream” (ABBA) to have my own horse. This dream is almost 20 years old and I remember the time of my childhood when I sat over a map of Canada and dreamed my stories of a Cowboy having his adventures around the Hudson Bay. Later on – still before I went to school – I wanted to cross Canada from East to West on a horse. At that time I didn’t know about what it means to be out in the wilderness all alone with a horse, I didn’t know about the difference between dreams and realities and I didn’t know about the Polar Bears around Hudson Bay I would love to see one day! All I had and all I have is “a dream, a fantasy to help me through reality” (ABBA). With this slightly modified dream Angel and I started on August 4th 1998 from Caledon following the Bruce Trail.
Life is a journey – enjoy the Ride!
The first 10 days were characterized more by new experiences than just by traveling. It was the first time in my life I had to care for a horse and I didn’t really knew what that means. I hardly even knew how to ride and even less how to pack a horse. The very first day I put my backpack behind the saddle – where in cowboy movies the sleeping bag uses to be. But a backpack is much more heavy and despite the cool look it’s a rather bad idea as the saddle starts to flip around. On one of my first stops where Angel got some proper shoes I also learnt to pack a horse by putting to equal backpacks on both sides of the saddle. In these days we traveled from Caledon to Thornbury – and those first miles learnt me the basics about horses, a first impression of the area and that it needs quite a solid bridge between a dream and the reality to establish the space where dreams can become true. After traveling for months through South America it was probably not that surprising that I was deeply impressed and even astonished of the hospitality of the people I met. Almost everybody I met invited me to sleep in the house. As these days of August were quite rainy I could rest at some places a day exploring the environment. That was quite good as I had blisters from walking and muscle pain from riding but despite this I found myself often on the back of Angel or walking a part of the Bruce Trail that was impossible to do by horse. Sometimes I also joined for a ride with the car into town to suck in a feeling of civilization. This exceptional hospitality was the very best from the first to the last day.
No matter where you are or where you have been,
there is always someplace left to go.
This saying I copied from a fridge.
In Thornbury we slept on the local campground. We got a “tent-place” at the end of the campground on a big field that was not fenced but naturally limited by a small river that also provided water for Angel. I took her with me to the showers that were in the center of the campground. I left her outside on a small piece of grass and when I came back almost every kid hang on or around her, the parents were watching and she got apples, carrots and dry bred. It looked like she really enjoyed being the hero and obviously she liked kids. The night she spent lonely eating on the field and I checked her from time to time. I always set her free for feeding – during the days and during the nights. It may be unusual but our home was where we were – there was just no place to run to. We slept quite a few times under the stars. These outdoor nights were always special because every night has its own charm that is only sensible under the gaze of the night sky. Additionally, these were very important moments in the relationship between Angel and me. Once I woke up during the night as it started to rain. I opened my eyes and over me stood Angel. She realized immediately that I was awake and talked softly. And kept on staying where she was. A mare never steps on her foal – this was what made me feel safe, fenced between these four legs. Suddenly I was glad I knew that she already had foals - what seemed for me quite a superfluous information at the time I bought her.
The next two weeks we traveled from Thornbury to Purple Valley. These two weeks were again mainly “embossed by encounters” with people. This was even enhanced by the fact that a local newspaper did an interview with me that appeared the next day in “The Sun Times”. At one place they ask me to sign the article in the newspaper. I became somewhat like locally famous – something I really didn’t expect. Another time, almost two weeks later, a truck drove by with a Coke and grain: his mother watched for days the side road, where I had most likely to pass by, with her binoculars!
Quite some time I spent near Bognor where I got invited by a Swiss couple who spend their summers there and where I saw after all those months of globe trotting for the first time again the Swiss flag and heard Swiss traditional music. It was also there where I started to learn riding bare back. In these days the temperature dropped down the first time to a couple degrees. Another day I spent in Owen Sound, a smallish town with 28 different churches, at the home of a very nice family whose daughter prepared a speech about Angel and me. I think it was the first place I learnt to know and appreciate a good Canadian pancake with lots of maple sirup for breakfast.
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Another couple of days I spent at Big Bay. The lady who invited me showed me a lot of the environment, we checked out paths, constructed roads and watched gorgeous thunderstorms during the nights. On Skinners Bluff (Niagara Escarpment between Big Bay and Wiarton) I saw the first colored leaves of the approaching Indian Summer. At Purple Valley Riding Stables I recovered from a flu and spent some time with trail rides. My trip may be something quite exceptional: a woman who buys a horse, setting out for the Bruce Trail never knowing where the next nights rest would be. But the people I met who showed me the Canadian style of living and where I always felt welcome and safe was for sure not less exceptional!
From Purple Valley to Tobermory it was a relaxing three-day-ride and Angel trotted a lot. I never forced her to trot as she was carrying all the luggage but if she did I enjoyed it. There was a ferry (Chi-Cheemaun) from Tobermory, the last town on the Bruce Peninsula, to Manitoulin Island, the largest fresh water island in the world. But it was not allowed to walk on the ferry with a horse so I had to look for a trailer. I spent almost two weeks at another riding stable (Harmony Acres) but nobody seemed to cross the Big Lake at that time. I enjoyed hikes along the cliffs, trail rides in the bush and visits to the picturesque little town of Tobermory. Angel had a good rest and was around other horses. At night we had a camp fire, a bottle of Amaretto and lots of fun. Finally I decided to hitch hike – with a horse, indeed. Angel and I went a couple of times to the ferry dock and one morning there was a cattle truck. As the ferry staff already knew that I was coming they asked if he would give me a lift and left the line next to the truck free. I loaded her – a task that seemed not that easy as cattle trucks only have a small and high opening at the side where a lot of horses would have refused to step through. But Angel trusted me and after a couple of minutes she was loaded. It was now, after I heard and learnt a lot about horses, when I realized that I was really lucky that I had Angel to accompany me on this adventure: an old, experienced lady who was not that easy to frighten and who didn’t lost, by bad treatment, trust in the human being. In the afternoon of September 11th 1998 we finally arrived at Little Current on Manitoulin Island.
The next three weeks I spent on Manitoulin Island. After I passed the public school on the very first day everybody on the whole Island knew about me. It didn’t took me long to find my way to a place called Rockville Inn, a beautiful Bed & Breakfast managed by a lady who used to be a former president of the local horse club. We put together a route over the Island and as she knew just about everybody who owned a horse here she made a couple of phone calls and for the next – and last three weeks – the question where I would sleep was answered. The Island is much more lonely than the Peninsula and the Indian Summer in its zenith. There were so many unbeatable moments when I rode between silver leaves playing in the fresh wind of a cool autumn day, when I went on a trail rides bare back with others galloping along a beach when rain set in, when the wild ducks flew towards the south and a lot of smaller beards collected themselves for a similar purpose, when we rode in endless sand dunes – again bare back – and felt like it must have been when horse and human used to be wild. At that time I was used to travel by horse and Angel learnt me all the rest that made me finally understand her the way she wanted to be understood. I knew how to care for a horse, I knew how to pack a horse, I was used to sleep out with her and used to look for a suitable pasture and always again deeply touched by every invitation I got. I guess I finally really was the “horse lady” or “cowboy/cowgirl” the people called me. I sat relaxed on Angel and there was nothing left but enjoying the beautiful nature, the singing of the birds, the smell of the wind and colored leaves telling about singular beauty…!
The last days I spent again at the Rockville Inn and while we saddled up for the last trail ride with another 20 horses a journalist of the “ManitoulinExpositor” made another interview for this local newspaper – I thought that for most people it probably was just a summary as anyway the whole Island knew about me, stopped briefly to say hello or even just horned driving by. But for BBC Sudbury my trip was a new information and I couple of days later they finally tracked me down to make what would finally be the last interview of that trip.
On October 5th – exactly 11 months after I started my around-the-world trip I sold her to a farm near Lion’s Head. I met the farmer on my way up the peninsula. He drove by, we had a nice talk and finally some of his kids saddled up their horses and shared with me a part of my way. It was a good place where she had plenty of space and could run with a bunch of other horses.
The next couple of days I spent at Big Bay where I was welcomed with a bloody mary: Dreams cannot be fenced in. They can be dreamed or lived and if they found a bridge into reality they open up the space for a new dream. On October 14th 1998 I sat in a flight back to Europe and for the next month of traveling it was me, who carried the saddle and my backpack. But also the memory of a time I will never forget.
At this place I would like to thank everybody I met on my trip – not every place is mentioned in this short story about a trip of which each encounter and every moment has its place in my memory.
Thank you!
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