Horses appeared to be the lifeblood of every rural community in the far south. Pride radiated from the local herdsmen who lived close to the natural rhythms of the earth, as they had done for centuries. A local Chilean told me the story of a Scottish pioneer who toured this wild frontier on horseback. ‘Lady Florence Dixie’ wrote an account of her expedition in Across Patagonia, one of the first travel narratives written from the perspective of a woman.

What if, like Dixie, we were to continue to travel slowly across the Andes on horseback, to better understand the lay of the land and the spirit of the people? In the blink of an eye.. I was being saddled up for my first ride across the southern Patagonian pampas. The region was dominated by formations carved by the last Ice Age, none more impressive than Mount Fitz Roy, named after Admiral Robert FitzRoy, captain of HMS Beagle, the ship that famously transported Darwin.

The promise of heat then carried us northward to Death Valley, situated in the driest desert in the world: the arid Atacama. Bolivia’s Wild West happened to be just across the border so our caravan of horses trailed these bandit lands, navigating lifeless valleys in search of water and shelter. It seemed the farther we got from civilisation, the more of its rules we left behind, as we slowly transitioned from obliging women to irrepressible wranglers; fighting off male advances, crossing crater-laden riverbeds, and narrowly escaping horse scuffles on eroding cliff edges.

We caught wind of a high-altitude route whilst learning to pack in Bolivia: ‘The Peru Divide’, a notorious Andean passage which extends through Peru’s central cordillera, the ultimate badge of honour for any cyclist, and now, for the first time, for any horse. Here, we took refuge in time-lost settlements along the Pachachaca River, where the local Quechuan people cared for our horses with prayers and alfalfa. Along the journey, we were encouraged to make offerings to give thanks to the Andean goddess Pachamama, Mother Earth.

The Peru Divide led us to a certain citadel nestled high in the solitude of a tropical forest. We approached Machu Picchu via her lesser-known sister ruin, Choquequirao, which translates as ‘Cradle of Gold’. This ancient fortress stood eerily vacant, accompanied only by the sound of our huffing mules. This was a land of extreme fertility, where life seemed to multiply a millionfold, but the giddy heights and jungle humidity laid siege to our spirits, as is to be expected when we humans are on the brink of exhaustion.

As midwinter approached the equator, word of the winter solstice began to circulate, so we decided to celebrate this revival of life with the Ecuadorian people. Here, we exercised horses at dizzying altitudes close to Ecuador’s sacred baths, which were used for purification during the solstice ceremonies. The ranch itself overlooked the statuesque Cotopaxi volcano, which stood illuminated beneath the crimson skies of a returning sun.

To conclude our Andean journey, we rode through Colombia’s old coffee region of Salento, astride native Paso Finos, under the watchful gaze of towering wax palms . Towards the highest peaks, we watched in wonder as a charm of hummingbirds wove between the low branches of a web-like cloud forest and contemplated our long miles in saddle across the world’s mightiest mountain range

As we strode to camp and the sun took it's final glance over the Andes, I considered how fortunate I was to have explored every inch, curve, and crest of this colossal mountain range, ruled only by the sun and our need for food, water and shelter. What freedom it was to lay our heads under the Southern stars each night, far from the influence of society, with only silence and neighing as our bedfellows. Here  I grappled with the very rational and tangible fears of not finding adequate grazing, of storms closing in and the threat of predators, but I was free from the simulated stress that plagues our modern existence. Where Is the space to pause in our hurried world, to recognise and  appreciate the subtleties of nature? Out here my life is stripped down to what’s really essential and the longer I lived this way; the greater the sphere of peace I created for myself, and my family of horses. This expedition felt like a homecoming to my senses, it’s bought me closer to my humanity and my intuition.

There are powerful, elemental forces out there, go forth and be cradled and confronted by them, keep the neigh-sayers at bay, and dance to the edge of your own parameters. I’ll forever hold the memory of these long days in the saddle close to my heart and wait eagerly to chase-down another outstretched horizon, with my steadfast, four-legged friends. 

Words - Sophie Lillie | Photography - Lorelle Rayner