Saddlesores and Sauvignon Blanc: The Horseback Winery Tour

Despite your telling me you’ve been riding and quite enjoyed it, somehow the image of you on horseback doesn’t come easily, Jarrod. You like your horsepower in the form of a Holden V8, with a car seat you can recline to about 130 degrees so that you’re driving almost supine. Consider this though: according to the TV ads, if you drink and drive, you’re a Bloody Idiot.

If you drink and ride however, well–you’re a F$%&ing Cowgirl.

I’ll take the behemoth wearing the flares, thanks

I discovered the Horseback Winery Tour on Groupon. They’re based in Main Ridge on the Mornington Peninsula and have an array of tour options. The tours usually include lunch, but because we were stingy and bought our passes on Groupon we had to forgo our meal. No matter, we went and bought ourselves a lovely pie from a bakery, and all up saved over $100 each (Is that #winning or more like #cheapskates?)

My partner in crime this week was my lovely friend Wendy (whom you might remember from my failed attempt to sell you on The Ice Lounge way back in May). Neither of us are what you would describe as horsey girls. We didn’t grow up with ponies and do things like gymkanas. We don’t have coltish legs suited to sauntering about in jodphurs. Wendy had actually never ridden a horse, and I’ve been only a handful of times, most recently in Central America where safety regulations are a little more…. lax. No waivers to sign, no safety briefings or instructions, no helmets. If you fall off you just have to climb back on and hold the reins in one hand while you compress the shattered fragments of skull and hold in your leaking grey matter with the other.

People always say trail riding horses are as safe as houses because “they’ll just follow whatever the one in front is doing.” Personally, I don’t find that particularly reassuring. It’s not like that approach worked out so well for lemmings.

A smile that belies my stomach churning anxiety

Our tour kicked off at 10am sharp and we arrived as instructed at 9:45 to sign our waivers, get fitted with helmets and be assigned our horses. The assignation process involves finding out your horses name and a bit about his/her personality, strengths and weaknesses. Honestly, I’m just riding it for three hours, not looking to date or adopt it, but ok. We stressed our limited to zero experience and prayed for a good match.

A small Jack Russell slash terrier vomited on the floor behind Wendy (ominous sign) as we listened to the defining characteristics of everybody else’s steeds. “Just the perfect temperament for a trail horse… steady… calm, she’ll really look after you (apparently that one will hold your hair back while you throw up)… just the best horse for a beginner… she’s just beautiful….he’ll just do as he’s told…” We wondered if they were building up to our horses being former Nobel prize nominees or perhaps a pair of stallions that recently rescued small children and kittens from a burning building.

Not. Exactly. “Wendy: You’ve got Bugsy. He’s… well he doesn’t have much of a personality. He’s not the brightest and he does like to eat.”

Bugsy: not much of a conversationalist, but get him going about pine needles and LOOK OUT!

“Megan: You’re on Spanky today… Spanky–mmm, she’s got a LOT of attitude. She knows what she wants and she knows where she wants to go.”

Classic Spanky Attitude: the dismissive eye-roll

Dim and Recalcitrant. These descriptions did not bolster confidence. The lovely ladies that were taking us out were quick to reassure that we were in great hands–so much so that they’d have us trotting by the end of the ride, no problems. Still, we were a little worried. And this wasn’t helped when a woman in our group of self proclaimed ‘intermediate skill’ expressed her surprise/disappointment that there were beginners in the group. She pushed for segregation so that the drizabone clad, trotting-adept types wouldn’t be held back by incompetents. Wendy and I felt like the weak link in a sporting team that none of the other players wants to kick to. (Insert hurt sniffle). The staff patiently but firmly explained that this wasn’t possible and they manage a range of horseriding capabilities within groups all the time.

We waited for the last of the group to arrive in the plush waiting area, nursing our nerves and contemplating this mural. Now, look–I know it’s not the quote’s intention, and that he did all sorts of great things…but this kind of makes it sound like Churchill experienced some unnatural stirrings when confronted with anything equine.

“And there is something about this quote that makes me feel vaguely uneasy.” Megan Mckay 2014

The stragglers arrived, and it was time to head outside and mount up. We had two instructors with our group and honestly, I can’t speak highly enough of them. They were unbelievably patient, encouraging and enthusiastic. One by one they helped everybody up and 90 degree parked the horses in a line ready to head out.

And so it begins

We were last to saddle up and discovered that in addition to Bugsy and Spanky, we also had a Buddy and Sparky in our group. I joked that having horse names so similar wasn’t a recipe for disaster AT ALL for a group going to wineries for bevvies. Self-proclaimed intermediate rider turned out to also be one of those people who takes everything very literally and explained  that “we would just need to remember what our horses looked like.”

For crying out loud. We were beginners, not developmentally delayed.

Time to set off. A quick briefing and request from the instructors that we not take photos as we are going because they frequently have phones dropped and destroyed. A Samsung Galaxy might be about as big as a Clydesale hoof, but it can’t cope with the weight. (The photos in the blog were very kindly taken by one of the instructors, because I was very obedient. Okay, mainly because I was gripping the reins with both hands and not letting go for anything). The horses literally do just follow the leader. The first part was just walking and frankly, Wendy and I nailed it. And we know because the instructor kept telling us how great we were doing. Yup, we were naturals at sitting upright and holding on.

Quite enjoying the pace.

Unfortunately, we did SO well that they obviously decided we were horse riding prodigies ready for trotting. They got us to stand up in the stirrups and sit down a few times and we demonstrated that yes, we had functional quadriceps and could do this. We were deemed ready to trot. Cue a minute of jolty, uncoordinated half squats above a saddle that felt just wrong. I got told that I was staying up too long each time and I needed to chant ‘rise, rise, rise, rise’ to myself at a quicker beat. This was quite difficult as Wendy and I both had an internal chant of “don’tfalloffandfractureyourspine, don’tfalloffandfractureyourspine, don’tfalloffandfractureyourspine’ which is clearly at odds with the speed one needs to rise and sit.

We tried again a few more times and got very enthusiastic feedback that the subsequent times were SO much better but really, it didn’t feel all that much different. I could maybe achieve a few seconds where it felt marginally smoother, but it was like trying to replicate a golf swing. You can’t work out how you miraculously did it right, or what you’re doing wrong in order to fix it.

Arriving at the first winery, we slid off our horses and tied them up before heading inside for some quality sampling. Possibly my imagination but they seemed relieved to have us off their backs.

“Just leave me alone, please”

“I’m going to bitch about you while you’re in the winery”

The name of the first winery escapes me but what I do remember is that the man behind the counter was the meanest pourer of tastings that I’ve ever encountered. I know at wine tastings they don’t pour you a generous standard glass, but come on buddy, you’ve got to give a girl more than a splash that barely covers the diameter of the glass stem! I’m not going to buy anything when all I’ve sampled is the vapours.

At the rate they’re dispensed, these same bottles will still be there in 2016

Just an aside: you may be wondering what you do with any bottles you buy when you’re getting around on horseback? The Horseback Winery Tours have an arrangement where a van swings by each of the wineries and collects your purchases to take them back to home base for you.

Back in the saddle, and we hit the track once more to the next winery. Spanky and I settled into an a relationship not dissimilar to a mother with a challenging three year old–i.e. always having to think 3 steps ahead, anticipate her moves and head them off at the pass.  Meanwhile Bugsy kept taking Wendy under very low hanging branches; the instructor said he does that “because he thinks it’s funny.”  Obviously Spanky and Bugsy had been plotting a very subtle revenge whilst we were inside drinking.

T’Gallant was next stop and thankfully the lady on the counter there was more generous with the nozzle.

The lovely vista at T’Gallant

And the even LOVELIER vista at T’Gallant

We worked our way through the tasting list and they were happy to proffer seconds as well. If I wasn’t still saving $$$ for South America I could have bought a few dozen no problems, so many delicious options there *salivates*

It clouded over and just began to drizzle as we headed back towards the ranch where the third and final tasting occurs. Spanky at this point had decided that she wanted to recreate the magic of The Human Centipede and spent the majority of this leg with her nose nudging the cleft of Bugsy’s backside.

Homeward bound

We had a few more attempts at trotting, some good, some average, some literally 100% off timing wise, but we were both pretty proud to have given it a go in any case. We didn’t hold up the group, and we didn’t give up and quit to walk at the back of the pack–so high fives to us for that.

Back at the ranch, Spanky looked the happiest I had seen her all morning, probably because she knew my clumsy floundering atop her spine was almost over.

So, all in all, I had a great morning, and would happily go again. Although my adductors (inside thigh muscles) begged to differ the next day. But as always, over to you-

The Horseback Winery Tour: Jarrod, Would you go there?

Fracture Free! (And Spanky, is that a smile???)