“Out there, on an inward journey. An adventure of the soul.“

This is a travel log of sorts. About a long quiet ride. Sharing the view along the way. Because with everything we do, with all of life and living, sharing makes it somehow sweeter.

There’s a lot of stories amassed in an adventure over 1500 miles and 111 days.

So this is about sharing those stories. About being out there. About finding my way into and through the unknown. About experiencing the open road with my horses. About falling in love with my horses, the West, and life all over again. And about turning to and relying upon, time and time again, others.

Mostly, it’s about the long quiet ride. The solo journey from California to Colorado, with the most amazing partners I could ask for. Willing, day after day, to saddle up and ride again into the unknown. My horses.

Rather than tell you what it was all about, it’s easier to explain what it was not.

This journey was not about the destination. I didn’t set out to break any records, accomplish some goal, and I sure didn’t head out to follow any set path that anyone I know had done before. There was no predetermined route. No schedule. Not even much of a plan. It was based on trust. And experience. I’m an experienced horseman, outfitter and outdoorsman. How hard could this trip be?

Hard. I learned that right away.

That, and the thing about being independent. Not. Turns out I was never as dependent on others as I was on this trip. Interdependent. That’s the greatest lesson I learned. And those are the greatest of the stories to share.

In a way, it was an adventure based on some sense of believing you can do it, you have the skills, the gear, the experience and patience, and what you don’t know or have, will work out. Somehow. Probably not how you expect. You know, that “leap and the net appears” sort of thing.

So, I leapt. Or rather rode. And every once in a while, I walked. And sometimes, I even hitched rides… with my horses in tow.

“It’s all been done before. Bigger, badder, longer, faster.“

I didn’t set any records. There was no song and dance, press or paparazzi because of what I did. But I did it. I made it. We made it. My horses made it with me, for me.

I let the horses determine my pace, my route, the miles, the places we stopped with good grass and clean water, safe spots to weather storms and avoid traffic. That sort of thing.

Oh… and one more thing. This journey was not about running away, leaving something behind. Not my husband, for without him, I would not have had the chance to do this. Not my grown son, for without him, I would not have the courage. Not my dogs, for without them, I would not be alive. (That’s another story.) Not even the place, the ranch, the community with which I live.

But that’s what I did. Left them all behind, for just a little while.