I'm not considered a horseman although I've spent many hours riding mountain trails. In the 1990s, Sylvia and I spent five weeks over ten years riding in the Big Horn Mountains of Wyoming.

More recently during the smoky fall of 2017, we rode around a ranch in British Columbia. Twenty year-old memories came rushing back to our delight as we traipsed around the forests and creeks at Three-Bar Ranch. Yes, we were aging city slickers, but we didn't care because we were spending time with these magnificent creatures.

We got know our mounts and their keepers, young wrangler women from rural stations down-under. Those evening aches and pains from a day's ride were a satisfying companion as we drifted off to sleep.