I can imagine the ad – come to southcentral Alaska, ride Icelandic horses on area trails. If you want, go berry picking. Squalor Holler is located at the foothills of the Talkeetna Range, a place with breathtaking views. Just minutes from the Knik Glacier and Hatcher Pass.

I composed this ad today, as I was riding in the Moose Meadows. This is the area that in the winter I call the White Highway. Right now I’m calling it the Green Highway because the brush on and surrounding the trails is six feet tall.

My friend Terri rode with Pete and me today. She rode Raudi, Pete rode Hrimmi, and I rode Tyra. It was a day in which dreams are made of. It was warm, just slightly overcast, and the mountains were in view.

Pete and Hrimmi in the blueberry patch

I was insistent that we go down to the Moose Meadows because we had not ridden there yet this year. I figure that if I’m getting slightly bored (!) with riding our area trails, then the horses must feel similarly. I also wanted to show Terri a good time. She’s ridden with us a few times lately, and in hopes that she might ride with us again, I suggested to her and Pete that we go further afield.

Pete had work to do, so he was hedging, but said that we should just do a bench ride. I kept saying no, let’s go to the Moose Meadows. So the Moose Meadows it was. We went down road, to the turnoff, then onto familiar trails. Pete, who is not averse to bushwacking, had us cut through a field of weeds, grasses, and cow parsnip. This way, we avoided the more rutted and boggy trails.

I most wanted to find the local blueberry patches. The past few years they’ve either been picked over or haven’t come into fruition. We found a single patch, then nearby, more patches. We all picked as the horses got their fill of grass, then began pestering us for treats. Tyra discovered berries and subsequently assisted in helping me harvest them.

We got enough berries for breakfast tomorrow. I am hoping the weather holds; if so, I‘m going picking again tomorrow. I’ll horseback ride there. It’s the best way to get there from here.

On the way to and from the berry patch, the horses were very well behaved. Terri is the horse person that I aspire to be, so her astute observations about Raudi made me feel good. She seemed to ignore the fact that this horse is a grass grubber and at times bargy.

The search is now on for an Icelandic horse for Terri. It would be fun to also have this in common. In the meantime, I told her that I’d welcome her riding with me any time. Right now, she’s waiting on the birth of her fourth grandchild.

The only think I lack here is more room for the horses. A tough call, but given my luck thus far, something will materialize.

Next: 215. 8/5/20: The Inertia of my Spirit