Quintessential Bariloche

For our last weekend we treated ourselves to a classic Argentine experience: horse back riding followed by lunch at a local parilla (a restaurant specializing in grilled meats). We opted for the 2-hour ride since for all intents and purposes neither Tom nor our children have ever ridden.  We were confused when the owner worried that if we started at 10:30 we would be done until 3pm , after all we only wanted to ride for 2 hours, but what we thought were difficulties in translation became clear in practice.

We arrived early at 10. The horses were still out in the pasture. Carol Jones, the owner, rode out in land rover and a short time later an odd thundering  filled the air.  About a dozen horses galloped around the bend nickering and kicking. After taking inventory, Carol’s helper conducted second round of a couple of older gentle horses for Zoë and JT.  We entertained ourselves by running around to stay warm until the horses were saddled.

Zoë was the first to mount. While she steadfastly (and bravely) maintained “I can ride” ,  my memory of her one and only riding experience was a little different. After driving out to Alpine Meadows she refused to get on the horse and instead watched her friend Kenzie be led around a short loop. JT then mounted the largest horse of the group—a Percheron which is a kind of draft or working horse used to pull wagons.  Both children were clearly nervous until they grew accustomed to the feel of the horse’s movement. As is often the case with gentle older horses, they like to stop to nibble the grass, drink water and walk slowly. Zoë and JT managed their horses quite well: Zoë’s horse was a schmeker, JT’s a real slurper and Papa’s horse had the most bodily functions.

The ride snaked in  loop around Carol’s family estancia. Her grandfather moved down from Texas and bought the land. Now she, her brothers and mom own and work ranch, with Carol running the trail rides and pack trips. They have some 300 sheep and 400 cattle that summer in the mountains and then are dirin back down for the winter. A ranch is a good place to see the nature and experience the cycle of life: we saw 2 kinds of deer including a huge buck with its family, condors, eagles and a jack rabbit. We also saw numerous bleached skulls and a recently decreased hawk and rabbit.

About halfway through the ride when we entered the hilly area JT decided he’d had enough. He was hungry, his legs hurt and he didn’t like the bumpiness of going up and down hills.  We took a couple of breaks where JT led his horse and walked with Carol and either Tom or myself. Finally, when we got back to the flat section we cajoled him into riding the rest of the way. He did amazingly well considering his size and experience. Zoë, on the hand, has fallen in love with horses. She cannot wait to try it again. By the time we finished our 2 hour ride it was 2;00.

The parilla is pretty far outside of town, but close to Carol’s ranch. The building was once a general store and has lots of memorabilia from its earlier profession. Its claim to fame is that Butch Cassidy had taken meals there. It was wonderfully arm and quaint and the food excellent. We laughed when we saw a waiter climb up to pick a bottle of red wine off a rather high shelf—a low tech version of the “wine climbers” seen in some posh restaurants. We shared sausage, steak and trout. Typically, it was all meat and potatoes with nary a green vegetable in sight. All in all it was quite a wonderful day.