The Gallery

This is a collection of photo's and poems which have been sent into Snowy River Horseback Adventure from our guests.

Many guests form bonds with their horsesand other characters along the way, which are unattainable in the confines of the city.

But all is not calm and relaxing at times, some like a dash of adrenalin thrown into their adventure! Some people just don't know how to slow down!!

Memories of past and present mingle in the High Country.
Historic sites and majestic views allow a moment to rekindle our bonds with the pioneers spirit and imagine what it was like back then.
Many stories and yarns of triumph, tragedy and the spirit of those who have trodden here before us accompany the trail.

Of course, if you still haven't rid the shackles of the city after all of this than what better way than by following the example of these guests!!

During the time we have operated Snowy River Horseback Adventure, we have received thanks from our guests in many ways. Cards, letters, faxes and Emails adorn our walls and albums giving us as many memories as we hope our guests take away with them.
But an adventure in the High Country these days seems to effect people in the same way it did Banjo Paterson so many years ago. It has inspired many of our guests to put pen to paper and record their holiday in prose.
Following are some verses of inspiration.

(Excerpts from) "Our Snowy River Ride"18-20/4 1997
One fine and crispy April Eve, Six plucky riders met,
To try their hands at horseriding On the Snowy Mountains track...
...We found a mob of cattle, They were waiting by a gate,
So we drove them on, back up the hill, We've been droving mate!
A break was had at a stockman's camp, Then a easier ride to lunch,
But Michael's hat come over his eyes And knocked his sunnies off.
"My glasses, my glasses", was all we could hear,
So pulled up and turned around. In time to see his pony,
Thundering on alone. The silly goose, got off his horse,
To rescue his Ray Bans, Thought it was a rocking horse,
That wold stay when he said "Stand"...
...Our trail home of course, was more down than up,
But then that proves the rule, What goes up - must 'ere come down,
As the ponies knew full well.

Also from the same ride...
I was a little wombat, round and fat, Along came a car and now I'm flat. Michael rode along and "Bucky" shied, Now I'm a frisbee, watch me glide. (To the tune of "I'm a Little Tea-Pot".
From Marion, Fiona and Jan.

(Excerpts from)"The Women From Snowy River"
The morning was dark, the moon still full, When our journey to the 'Snowies' began, We took to the sky, excitement running high, Akubra's clutched tightly in our hands.
In Canberra we had wheels, and a driver too, Who guided us up from the plains, We watched the mountains, dark on the horizon, Mountains no one can tame.
Arriving at "The Diggings" there were handshakes and introductions, Settling in we began to make plans.
Meeting our steeds was first on our list, Beside the gate we took a stand. Nicole mustered them down, blending saddle with horse, Thundering down the slopes, manes flying, they came, Mountain horses, lean and full of life, Horses of 'Snowy River' fame.
Borne on the wind came a course from Nicole, Frustrated she didn't want to give in, She circled and cut, urging him down, No way would he let her win!
We were matched, woman to horse, Saddling our mounts, attempting 'horse talk', Crooning, patting, building a partnership, Adjusting our leathers, we went quietly at a walk...
...We gathered to mould leather to beast, These equines clever, sensing our hesitation. They carried us through the big part of the day, Strong and proud, no reservations...
...These mounts were confident in these here hills. Though slither and slip, let us down they did not! They certainly weren't any fools...
...Friday, the wind whips through to our bones, Lifting Akubra's right of our heads. Roaring through branches of Mountain Ash, Setting horses nerves on edge. Willie's ears doing nearly full circles on his head, Mandy, alert, checks behind,
A Black Brumby cutting across the valley, Stops and stands below the tree line. Lifting his head, nose to the wind, He's regal, strong and proud. You'd never dream a brumby would come this close, He keeps respectably distant from our crowd. An experience of a lifetime to be this close, To something so wild and free. A bonding between mountain and man, What a magnificent animal to see!...
...The time has arrived to say our goodbyes, After one hell of a week, These women have shown their determination, What's more, they won't be beat! So take up the challenge of this untouched wilderness, Leave your work and stresses behind, Breathe in fresh, pure mountain air, New friends and family you will find. Don't underestimate the mountain's power, To sap your energy, hard going it can be, There's magnificence round every new corner, Go there, you'll soon see.
You'll leave a part of yourself there when you leave, You'll choke up when you say goodbye, But it's an experience of a lifetime, Get out there, give it a try!
From Cheryl, with Michelle, Michelle, Pam and the rest of
the Women From Snowy River.

"Anzac Weekend 1999" (original is 4 pages)
There was movement at the station, for the word had got around
That Big Red, whom Jack had bought, had got away
And had joined the wild bush horses, he was worth ........ a couple of pounds?
So all the girls had gathered for the fray. ........

....... Now Anne was another female from SA, they're mad, all the flat-lands from that way (Or at least, thus Jack was heard to say.)
They bring Jack whisky and write poems divine - hard luck this time
Just pure drivel, but ............ excellent red wine. .........

........ For three days we'd forsaken computers, mobile phones,
Bank loans, husbands and kids' perpetual moans.
But nothing was too good for us after daylight
- Luxurious accommodation all right,
Massages, hot showers, Radox baths,
Fine dinners, wine 500 and many laughs.

To top it off, on the morning we were home to go
Jackie looked outside, woke us up yelling, "Snow!"
Yes, Snowflakes were falling, gentle and slow
The light was grey, with muted sound,
Would you believe it? Four inches on the ground. ........

Excerpts from "Anzac Weekend 1999" by Linley