When I was a kid I spent the summers with my grandparents in Kelowna. Looking back, I really treasure those times as I got to know them in deeper way than I would have if we had spent the odd day here and there together. I spent the majority of my time with Grampa in his man-cave in the basement. I picked up many of his hobbies and became engrossed in stamp collecting, photography and travel. I have no idea how many hours I spent looking at slideshows of Grampa’s latest trips. His photos weren’t spectacular, but it didn’t matter and I became fascinated with exploring far away places. Who wouldn’t get inspired looking at these photos?!
In the summer of 1982 I came across “The Man From Snowy River” on a shelf at the video store and so began my obsession with all things Tom Burlinson, Australia, the Snowy River country and horseback riding in the mountains. By the end of the summer, I had watched the movie at least twenty times after begging my Grama to rent it every week. I’ve seen it well over two hundred times…easily. It’s probably more like five hundred times. My favourite movie of all time.
I graduated high school in 1989 and my mom insisted that I attend the local college for at least one year to try and figure out what the hell I was going to do with my life. I had no idea what courses to enroll in so I took a smattering of classes that I might be able to pass with little effort. Clearly my heart wasn’t in it, but I was at a loss as to what to do and it seemed as good an option as any. Halfway through the semester and my dismal effort was apparent in the poor grades I received. What the hell was I doing?? I came to the conclusion that higher learning was for those that actually knew what profession they wanted to pursue. I was sitting in the common area with friends and the topic of travel arose. My ears perked up and I started paying closer attention. In the space of an afternoon and skipping several classes, it was decided that myself and two friends from high school, Marla and Cathy, were going to Australia for a year. Six months later, we hefted our packs and headed for the airport.
Let me preface by saying my main goal of this entire trip was to do a horseback trip through the Snowy Mountains and I imagined myself galloping through the alpine meadows with Tom Burlinson riding Denny by my side. I found a tour that sounded perfect and Marla was game to come with me, which was amazing, considering she didn’t give a shit about Tom Burlinson or horses and was clearly only doing it for me. Somehow my Grampa got involved in the conversation and he decided to join us.
Before I could afford to go, I needed to make some money so I scoured the newspapers while in Melbourne. I came across an advertisement, “Jockey Needed” and figured I was the perfect candidate. Why I thought this, I will never know. I had a pony when I was a kid, but hadn’t ridden a horse since I was a kid. And now I thought I could ride a racehorse??!! I mean, I’m all for self-confidence, but what a ridiculous train of thought. What’s even more ridiculous is the owner hired me to exercise his ten racehorses and said he could teach me what I didn’t know (I knew very little). I traveled to the tiny town of Echuca to meet my new employer and steeds. It was 40 degrees, the horses were raring to go and I didn’t know what the f$!k I was doing. Basically I was holding on for dear life and trying to steer them around the oval track at a teeth-rattling pace. Getting them going was no problem. It was the stopping that was an issue. The horse were bred to run and a hundred pound person on their back wasn’t going to slow them down. I had numerous accidents, most of which required professional medical attention. I lasted four months before I decided it was time to move on. Tom was waiting.
My Grampa, Marla and I arrived at the Higgin’s family cabin in the mountains and I was in heaven. Rustic cabin, horses, fresh air, surrounded by nature and no other people. Kevin was in charge of the rides and horses, and his sister, Marie, fed us. I can still remember the aroma of lasagna wafting through the trees as we rode back to the cabin at the end of the day. We bunked in the cabin and did a couple of day rides to get us acclimatized to the saddle. My Grampa was in his late 60’s and I was impressed that he stuck it out with us everyday. He must’ve been so sore and tired but his enthusiasm never wavered. After a few days, we traveled further into the mountains to camp overnight. I recognized the area we were riding in from the movie and I asked Kevin if I could go on ahead. I embarrassingly wanted to recreate a scene from the movie where the characters galloped along a ridge. Kevin understood (I wasn’t the first fan of the movie that had done this ride). We gave the horses a kick and raced along the ridge, neck and neck. The wind was ripping my hair back from my face, the horses were snorting and tossing their heads, the hooves were kicking up clumps of sod behind us, and Kevin was looking back and urging me on. It still gives me goosebumps and makes me emotional.
Our camping spot was idyllic. The weather was dry so instead of using a tent we each had our own swag. A swag is a canvas bag that cocoons your sleeping bag so your bag isn’t directly on the ground. At the end of a long day riding, we sat by the fire and ate dinner while gazing up at the stars. It was totally silent other than the odd bird call. We spent several days camping in the bush and riding. Each day was a new experience. I told Kevin how lucky he was to have this as his office everyday and how I wished I could stay.
After a few days on the trail we headed back to the cabin to end our trip. I felt deflated at the thought of having to leave this beautiful spot so soon. Kevin approached me while I was unsaddling my horse and asked if I would like to stay and help him lead some upcoming tours. I leapt in the air and yelled, “Yes”!! I couldn’t believe my luck. It was such a pleasure to share in other travellers’s excitement of being in the mountains and ensuring their experience was as memorable as mine was. I worked with Kevin and Marie for about a month before I headed back down to the low country to meet back up with Marla. My time in the Snowy Mountains was complete.
On a side note, Kevin had been an extra in the second Man From Snowy River movie and had gotten to know the producer, Geoff Burrows and Master of Horse, Charlie Lovick. He appreciated my love for all things Snowy River and took me to meet Charlie. I was tongue-tied and pretty sure I made an ass of myself gushing over the movie. And of course we had to watch both movies and pick out the scenes in the movie that Kevin and Charlie appeared in!
My Grampa passed away some time ago and I am so grateful that I had the opportunity to share a small part of my year long journey to Australia with him. I feel that if we had had more time, we would’ve had more adventures together. I was saying to my mom the other day that I seem to be living a parallel life to my Grampa’s. Our work, our love of travel and our necessity to capture a moment with a camera. After he died, I was going through photos and travel books in his office and I found a book called, “1000 Places To See Before You Die” that had a Christmas card I had given him used as a bookmark. It marked a chapter about Morocco which happened to be the location of the last trip I’d done before he passed (insert tears here). I kept the book and I have the quote pictured below tattooed on my arm. Words to live by.
