The Bryns on fire and it’s looking quite wild out there and the wind is cranking up bringing with it the much expected snow. From the warmth of the farmhouse on the yard I can see fire fighters are out there but it’s looking like a losing game. The fire has a long and strong hold and it’s tearing up and across the bryn like a firy rip curl. Time to saddle up the white boy, get out there and in it…it’s got to be warmer up there than it is down here on the yard.

The sound and smell of gorse and undergrowth burning is amazing. It’s -4 and the wind is blowing hard from the east…taking the wildfire away from the direction of my house. Although well wrapped up the cold was penetrating and i could feel a cold blade across the back of my neck and shoulders as the wind found a way in. Clearly another layer was needed today. I took some video recordings of this ice and fire ride but struggling with reins and numb fingers made this difficult. Time to invest in a head cam I think.

Long before we reach the bryn smoke and fire can be seen being driven by the bitterly cold easterly. As we got closer to the fire a pair of short eared owls suddenly appeared out of the smoke wheeling towards us away from fire. I wondered if the fire had disturbed them from their roost or perhaps they were hunting prey fleeing

The pair flew so close and I turned in the saddle to watch them land, lift off and fly around us again. Normally very shy birds (I’ve only ever seen them through binoculars) this arial display was quite a spectacle.

I passed around the back of the fire fighters who seemed to be having very little impact on the intensity or direction of the fire…mother nature definitely in charge here. Making our way up onto the top of the Bryn we followed freshly exposed animal tracks over a newly transformed smoky charred landscape stepping through and across frozen streams and crunching through ice where it is normally deep sticky mud and gloopy swamp. The white boy is good over this terrain… I just sit there as he picks his way gingerly and carefully leaping and bounding up to the top of the bryn. I leave it up to him the find the best route. There are deep treacherous boggy sinkholes and I can trust him to avoid these and get us safely to the top. It is a long time since I have ridden out in such cold weather. Reminiscent of winters in Sheffield…..brrrrrrrrrrr

Passing close by burning crackling gorse my face feels the heat while my back and shoulders and ears feel the beast from the east.

Reaching the top of the Bryn, thick smoke obscures our way for a while as we are now downwind of the fires. Although the fires are still some distance away as we’ve galloped ahead of them for a while, like thick fog, smoke can be a bit disorienting. Visibility varies as smoke plumes pass with varying density and just as I’m not quite sure of the way the massive monolith of King Arthur’s stone becomes visible. The burning bryn smells of woodsmoke and burning coconuts….the product of burning gorse. At the stone we track left and gallop out of the smoke towards and then across the road

From the top of the Bryn, it didn’t take us long to get down. This cold snap has transformed the going and although it’s quite poached from continual animal crossings it was nowhere near as deep or boggy…perfect for a good gallop with no risk of slipping. It felt good to get out and I marvel at the energy of this older horse. He’s so fit, loves to be out and is such a safe, fast ride I let him choose his own route and pace. Within reason though because given a free rein he would gallop flat out to home and be ready to go round again. Frank will always be the jumping pony but for icy days and fire racing the fairy lightening white boy is always going to be my first choice horse.

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