 | ||||
| The Ecuadorian Sledge (far different from the Knoxvillian one). Cold and foggy early mornings. Bringing the steaming coffee to my lips and pulling on the sweater, I walk out to gather the horses. Time to saddle up for a day of exercise. |
 |
| The the equatorial sun burns off the fog as we climb and climb. |
 |
| Sally's boyfriend, David, joins us. He owns one of the most happening clubs in Quito, the" Bungalow". He is an ex British Secret Service agent and rugby player. He too, is great. |
 |
| We all long for the wide open spaces. RUN! |
 |
| German ("Herman") |
 |
| A steep climb prepares the spirit like the click click clicking of the first hill on a roller coaster. |
 |
| Mona Rubio's shit-eating grin |
 |
| Reaching the top |
 |
| Cresting the top, we all felt it, especially the horses...we all took off running with the loose horses that were up there and just as excited to see us. We darted in every direction letting it out giving chase to the wind that blasted over the top of the pass. |
 |
| After that we took a nice break. |
 |
| Cesar found his chaps. |
 |
| Running a GPS so I can make maps, a video camera, regular camera, leading a horse and riding one proves to be a hell of a multitask, but I handle it. |
 |
| Relief was in the air after the peak run and break. It was all down hill from here. |
A case of the Mondays
