So this one is about mountains and horses. A winter wonderland of white snow, stunning views and fat sh*tting ponies. It’s also about my experience with scenic mountains and sub-zero temperatures, warm fires and smoky tents, and the ice-cold beauty of this new, strange environment.
I conquered it on horseback. And I was rewarded with extremely chapped lips. Now Chinese horses aren’t like European or American ones. In fact, they are fat, stubborn and have a tendency to, well, sh*t.
Imagining the terrifying Mongol horde charging into battle on them, whooping and yelling, is, frankly, hilarious. But enough about that for now.
Onto my experience. I was on a horse, cold wind blowing in my face. I was glad when we got off to let the horses go down a snowy hillside. That, for me, was the highlight of the journey.
Our camp was a scenic clearing by a stream, inhabited by a friendly family who had come to cut timber. I liked hacking stuff up with the hooked bark-stripping tool they were using. We slept in a two-person tent under several blankets.
My worst mistake was throwing a snowball at the kid. Apparently, to his mind, a snowball fight involves pinning someone down and rubbing snow in their face. Though at times it got so smoky I saw everyone as silhouettes, the tent, with its fire, was a welcome relief.
Everything they cooked was very nice, but entirely vegetarian. The reason for this, as I found out, was that leftovers were then fed to the horses. We ended up farting like they were!
Major drawbacks: Biting cold and an uncontrollable horse. Sort of uncontrollable, anyway. As my mother, the digital fascist, says, stopping my horse is beginner level control.
But enough about that. I hope this has been informative!
Note: It was in Tibet. Sorry for not specifying.