Trekking - group photo on log

Lunch at Rendezvous Creek

picture picture

Big Tree

Big enough to park a horse in

picture picture


Soldier the trick horse

picture picture

Snowy Mountains Blues

Jerome on harmonica

picture picture

Spring snow

Spring snow storm at Ingebirah

picture picture

Angela and Soldier

Taking a nap

picture picture

Trekking group

Riders on a rocky knob

picture picture

Early morning start

Morning cuppa on the verandah

picture picture

The brumbies

Brumby mob with foals in spring

picture picture

Some input from past 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 reminding us of memories which we hope our guests also take away with them.

An adventure in the High Country 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 poetry or prose, so following are a small collection of poems which have been sent into Snowy River Horseback Adventures.

Beware the Horned Drop Wombat

By Estelle Hobbins 2010

We’ve been out in the high country, where the big drop wombats lie
In wait for the unsuspecting to come idly riding by.
His home is in a great big hole, down deep inside the land,
His life is pretty boring, his diet’s pretty bland.

So he likes a change from time to time.
He likes some nice, fresh meat
A rider or a bushwalker can make a tasty treat.
One day he climbed a big gum tree, this horned and scary beast
On a branch he waited patiently, hoping for a feast.

He saw a group of riders, all together in a bunch, and that wombat he said to himself
“They re just in time for lunch”
He likes the look of Randy, who’s from the USA.
This wombat likes American food, could be his lucky day.

Now Randy s off in Randyworld,
his favourite place to be
Playing with his GPS, taking shots of scenery
He hasn’t seen the wombat, but the wombat s eyeing him

Soon he’ll jump down on his shoulders, and tear him limb from limb
But just as they were passing by, there came an almighty Crack!
As the branch and the big drop wombat, crashed down upon the track
Well, Randy's horse, he galloped off, spurred on by mortal fear
“I don’t know what the hell that was, but I am outta here”

Randy and his faithful steed were both quite out of breath
When they finally stopped, five miles away, but safe from a horrible death

In Illinois, deep in the woods, a little cabin hides,
Where Randy likes to tell tall tales of his heroic rides
His buddies gasp in wonderment when he tells his wombat story,
And Randy, well, he just sits back and basks in all the glory

But sometimes in the wintertime, in the forest dark and dim
When the blizzard s howling all around and the weather s closing in
What Randy sees up in the trees gives him and awful hunch
That the big old horned drop wombat s out there….waiting for this lunch

Back to top

Behind the Seams

Comfy undies are a must for anyone who rides
It’s a subject close to many hearts, and other parts besides.
For it matters not how the breeches sit, nor how well cut the twill
Unless the undies snugly fit - the pain can almost kill!

Now, I’ve heard tell sheepskin inserts keep endurance riders comfy
Though under tailored breeches make the outline rather lumpy.
Whilst jockeys have been known to wear their girlfriends nylon tights
Beneath their silks - I don’t know why. I find that nylon bites!

Pure silk is cool and sensuous and gentle on each cheek
But the trouble is it’s delicate and wears out in a week.
And don’t be fooled by satins kiss on broad or narrow hips.
Because the moment you engage your seat you’ll find the damn stuff slips!

And it’s difficult to concentrate on what your trainer’s saying
Whilst being savaged by elastic, either floppy, tight or fraying.
Or riding tall and elegant as in ones fondest dreams
When constantly reminded that you’re sitting on the seams.

“G” strings don’t protect enough - besides they’re rather chilly
And lacy briefs are rather rough, abrasive and too frilly.
Besides, the lace can let you down in ways most uninviting
When on chilling winter morns you find it’s not the wind thats biting!

Now, though in theory velvet might be gentle on the seat.
When mixed with warmth and friction it produces prickly heat!
Whilst “bike pants” under jodhpurs offer little consolation
'Cos worn all day they bind and grab and cut off circulation.

Long Johns only fit the bill when icy cold winds blast.
Boxer shorts are baggy and they let in too much draft.
And NEVER wear a teddy - even if it's really plain
‘Cos if you ride in one of those - you’ll never ride again.

Yes, polyester, rayon, wool, - the list goes on forever.
And whether skin is petal soft or tough and tanned like leather
You’ll find that rashes, bites and binds are comfortably forgotten
When wearing “passion killers” made of good old Aussie cotton!

Gail Bain 15 April 1997
(STHC Opening Hunt Dinner) recited for us at dinner Nov 08

Back to top

I came to do a trail ride,
And dragged my husband too.
Each day was more spectacular,
The company was great, too.
Your horses are amazing;
Eve’s cooking skills out shone,
Any 5 star restaurant,
A medal could be won!
We loved each moment here;
You will certainly see me
Back again next year!

From Eileen and Roy Wheeler ‘06

Back to top

The Alexander Rag Time Ride

Come let us gather, the Alexanders must drive
The Snowy’s are calling, they are burning to ride.
Donald and Judy, Anastasia and Liz,
Lets pick up the brothers and get on with the biz.
Day one they are ready and rearing to go,
It’s saddle up Glen and get on with the show!
I’m laughing already as I hear the boys say,
‘Come on lets hit leather and be on our way”.

But wait, there are others there riding too,
Hold on to your horses, I’ll introduce them to you.
Here’s Kim and here’s Craig, they’re ready to ride,
As they head for the mountains they ride side by side.
And John, don’t we love him, his humour and wit,
He’s in there among them his horse on the bit.
Marge, you are lovely, you came on a mission,
To write a short story, no doubt on commission.

So off to the mountains to ride on the track,
Home again, showered, can you massage my back?
Up again, off again, brumbies to find,
So sorry Don that they left you behind.
Ride boldly! Ride boldly! I say it again,
We loved meeting all of you, so glad that you came!
Here to make merry and merry it was,
All gone tomorrow, us feeling the loss.

Evelyn Chrystal 12/01/01

Back to top

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 would 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.

Back to top

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.

Back to top

(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 curse from Nicole,
Frustrated, she wouldn't 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 off 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.

Back to top

"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......

Back to top