Yesterday afternoon we met Brenda “The Tigress” Burnside from the Enchanted Forest for a horseback excursion up to the Black Sheep Pub. This is part one of the story…
Before I go any further, Brenda owns and operates the Enchanted Forest in Nosara. It’s right behind Harbor Reef, and is a great place for a massage, salt scrub, sauna, workout, etc… And Brenda is a great lady with a heart of gold. Besides massages and horseback riding, we met Brenda out and about a few times and always enjoyed her company.
The photo below is Betsy on her way to her salt scrub & sauna, after hiking with me to Playa Pelada for breakfast at Olga’s – but that’s another story…
We drove into Nosara, and down a side road to Gweecho’s place. Brenda keeps a horse with Gweecho, and in exchange she brings tourists on trail rides to make the money to keep the horses. We came to think of Gweecho as “The Horse Whisperer of Nosara”, although it could be argued that what he’s really good at reading is tourists, not horses.
We found out the next day that Gweecho passed away the morning after we took this ride. It was strange for us to have just made a bond with this man and have him taken away so quickly. I am not sure if Brenda still has a horse, or if she has taken any groups riding since…
So we pull up to Gweecho’s place, and he’s nowhere to be seen. Five horses are saddled up and tied to various trees in the yard, obviously ready to go, but there are seven of us with Brenda, so we wait.
The building Carrie is leaning against is constructed of thick concrete with tiny windows set high in the walls and what looks to be a very heavy steel door. This appears to be where the land owner keeps his belongings while out of the country. The palapa in the background is the real living area – a tent on a raised deck with a thatched roof.
While we’re waiting, Brenda reviews the plan for the evening: “We’ll ride up the mountain and catch sunset. Then we’ll backtrack to the pub, have a few drinks, and head down. We’ll drop the horses back here and get dinner at Rancho Tico.”
We are all made comfortable by the fact that (1) it’s written down and (2) Brenda has a solid grasp of “left” and “right”. (Just kidding Brenda – the picture was too good to pass up. For anyone who glossed over the business card at the top of the page it reads “Professional Boxer”, so I know for a fact that Brenda knows all about lefts and rights… and jabs and uppercuts and roundhouses too!)
Gweecho finally arrives with two more horses in tow and assigns each of us to a horse. As Carrie mounts up she asks “What’s my horse’s name?” Brenda sheepishly passes the question on to Gweecho. “Marron” he replies, without batting an eye. Brenda translates for us: “Brownie”. So Jeff asks about his horse, and when Gweecho responds “Blanco” we all get it.
Silly gringos, Tico caballos don’t have names!
And off we go. You may notice that these horses are not outfitted with a full bridle & bit like all the trail horses in the U.S. They have a simple rope bridle and reins, and are controlled more by telepathy than rein work. If I wanted the horse to go to the right I would turn my shoulders as if I were walking and the horse would turn as gently or as sharply as I intended.
You may also notice that it looks lke Jeff’s horse is about to trip over itself, and Jeff appears entirely unworried (or possibly unaware of the impending fall). But this is how this horse ALWAYS walked, and trotted, and cantered. I swear it did not have hinge joints, but rather ball and sockets on the lower forelegs.
Right after Zack snapped this picture, he cantered up past the group and around the bend. As he went by, Jeff gave his mount a little encouragement and he cantered after. I thought I’d give it a try, so I gave my horse a tentative cluck-cluck and squeeze – his ears perked up and he broke instantly into an easy canter.
Jeff was catching up to Zack, and Zack was having none of it – both horses broke into a gallop! My horse was swept up in the excitement of the race, and I swear as he lowered his head I heard him say “¡Hold on tight señor… we’re going to WIN!”.
I was right there with him, until I bounced left when he swerved right and I thought I was going down hard. “¡Alto! ¡Alto! ¡Alto!” I cried, and he slowed to a walk.
Tican horses are the best!
On our way to the top of the mountain we encountered a flock of parrots (noisy dang birds) and a family of howler monkeys in a tree hanging over the road. The howlers were fairly calm until they saw Zack, then one of them gave him what for.
We made it to the top without losing any riders, and this sunset was our prize.
When we turned to go, we happened to catch a full moon rise off the other side of the mountain! This picture doesn’t do it justice.
The roads up and down the mountain are single-track – only room for one vehicle at a time. Two vehicles passed us on the way down. One pickup truck which the horses basically ignored. And then a larger delivery truck which the horses also ignored. By ignored I mean that when the delivery truck hit Carrie’s horse in the hindquarters, the horse shuffled to the right and kept going, like it happens every day!
We made it to the Black Sheep Pub without further incident and were warmly welcomed by owners Joe and Helena. They moved down from Boston a couple of years ago and built this paradise on a mountaintop. Joe says he had a collection of coasters and needed a place to display them, so they built this pub. I brought home a small stack of Black Sheep coasters:
The pub is gorgeous. It’s truly amazing what they’ve accomplished on this remote hilltop in Central America. And I didn’t get pictures of the lap pool and meticulous garden. These folks are wonderfully nice and fun to be around. They opened the Pub just for us!! What a special treat! Thanks Joe & Helena – we’ll be back.
Irish Car Bombs are a specialty at the Pub. Brenda hadn’t had one before this night, and we decided we’d all better stop at one before we rode back down the mountain. That’s one Irish Car Bomb – we also each had a few other refreshers, and I’m afraid we put Helena’s nascent bartending skills to the test – she came through with flying colors!
We dropped the horses off and Brenda accompanied us to Rancho Tico in Nosara proper. The cuisine is authentic Tican – everything is fresh, seafood, meat, veggies, all of it. They serve filet with a jalapeno sauce that had us all stuffing our faces and mopping the plates.
We came back two nights later without Brenda and had another marvelous dinner. This is another place we’ll come back to.
Thanks Brenda, for showing us your paradise!
