Hoofbeats in the mountains

Southern Living, Oct 1998 by Simle, Meg McKinney

Here Is the eighth in our series of soft adventures for 1998.

When the sounds of four dozen horse hooves walking through ankle-deep leaves fill the crisp mountain air, all conversation ceases. This is my favorite sound; the volume is reminiscent of a small marching band. It reminds me that I am indeed on vacation, a riding holiday. Before our group resumes talking, we hear birds calling, mountain streams flowing, and a distant tractor adding a staccato beat.

This is autumn in West Virginia, in the country near Lewisburg. I'm here on a six-day riding tour, surrounded by mountains, fall colors, and horses. For the equine enthusiast who likes to ride all day, to stay in a comfortably furnished log cabin or farmhouse, and to discuss the day's ride over candlelit dinners of salmon and lamb, it's perfect.

Our week wouldn't happen without our four-legged friends who sport such names as Toddy, Alec, Luther, and Dolphin ("She acts like a princess-the first to stop, the first to eat, the first to drink," says her rider). My own mount, Heineken, part Irish-draft horse, has a heart big enough to match his workhorse-size hooves.

Tootie O'Flaherty serves as our leader and is the owner of Swift Level, the postcard-perfect horse farm where we begin and end our week. "We match the rider with the horse," she says, "by learning what they need versus what they want. And the terrain here is more challenging.

"Some who have not ridden steep mountainsides are more apprehensive. Others aren't familiar with a gallop in an open field" because they've spent their riding careers in show rings. And some "aren't used to being around deer. On the other hand," Tootie says, "our horses are very familiar with the terrain, occasionally behaving like children at their rider's expense, such as splashing water in a stream."

On our first morning we spend a half hour at Swift Level, walking and trotting around an exercise paddock, getting to know our horses and they us. I soon learn I can trust Heineken to stop when I need to and that he has a lovely, smooth canter. I am told that he is ridden mostly for fox hunting and cross country. This means he doesn't get tired, and not much upsets him. A perfect partner for me.

Because we ride six to seven hours and a minimum of 18 to 24 miles a day, this particular tour is for intermediate and experienced riders. The horses are Thoroughbreds, part Irish hunters, and Connemara ponies. Hunt seat or English saddle, with appropriate riding attire, is required.

Our days begin with a filling meal: omelets, hot oatmeal, grits, stewed apples, and French toast made from home-baked bread. By 9:30, we are in the saddle. "We keep to a schedule," says Tootie, "but we don't rush."

We stop at country churches for lunch, enjoying the covered shelters with tables and benches. The Swift Level staff meets us each day, giving new meaning to the word picnicbig, delicious sandwiches, cream soups, and freshly baked cookies.

Even more pampering is in store. To ease tired muscles, a masseuse is on call each evening. At the end of the second day, I succumb and feel good as new after an hour's kneading.

The daytime sights just about take our breath away, and Tootie is quick to offer local history and lore. "This pasture on our left was a camp for Union troops," she says as we walk past a field with grazing llamas. An hour later she stops us before we ride down a sun-dappled roadway deeply covered with leaves. "And this was surveyed by George Washington."

We don't return to Swift Level every afternoon. Halfway through the week, we ride into Pocahontas County and stay at The Current, a bed-and-breakfast near Hillsboro. Our group fills the large Victorian farmhouse. Leslee McCarty, owner and hostess, serves tasty meals, spiced with herbs and vegetables from her own garden. The horses pasture nearby for the night.

Early the next morning, Tootie shows us the way down to the Greenbrier River before the early mist lifts. In the quiet and peace, I have to remind myself that I'm not in a dream.

The reasons for choosing a riding holiday are as varied as the participants. My tour included an English butler, a television producer, a homemaker, a lawyer, and one person who said, "I live in a large city; I do computers."

"With these tours I learn more about horses," notes Irving Sealey, who takes a Saturday morning subway to get to his local stable. And even though Lisa Robin has her own horse, she says, "I don't get to ride like this. My horse wouldn't have lasted very long." Kate Nolan points out that this is her vacation, enjoying a week of riding without any cares.

"You have conversations that you wouldn't ordinarily have," says Garth Bandell, a Key Wester. "Because of the surroundings, you're more relaxed. And when people are 6 feet off the ground," he says, "they will talk about different things."

For me, this is a chance to enjoy riding as I did in high school and college with interesting horses and likeminded people. A camaraderie develops here, with teasing remarks made and accepted by all.