"Best Trail Ride Ever"

We ride towards the snow-capped mountain. The valley stretches forever - first one bend, then another. Through the middle runs a mountain stream. This area is all open range. The farmers rent grazing rights from the village, but there are no fences, no power lines, no development, none. Leon surmises that this is what the west must have been like in the days of Zane Grey and Louis L'amour lore.

We round a bend and see a horseman with a dog, a flock of sheep. He rides up and pleasantries are exchanged with Rysbek and Askar. Around the next bend is a herd of horses. Again, hands are extended and grasped.

It slowly soaks in that we are riding through an amazing, wild part of Central Asia. We snap hundreds of pictures of the valley; none do it justice. After five hours, we come to a small farm, comprised of a tent made of cotton and a horse corral. They welcome us with tea. We are supposed to ride another 90 minutes, but we declare "here is good" and set up our tents about 50 feet from the rushing stream.

Rysbek would like to go hunting, and Jim's willing. Rysbek has brought two guns along. One -- a 1915 Browning (Belgian) shotgun --he received as a present from his son-in-law, and has never shot. Leon figures out how the pieces go together, and Jim claims that gun. Rysbek meanwhile has a World War One Russian sniper rifle.

The rest of us stay in valley and start a campfire for supper. We hear a few shots now and then. When they return, Jim has shot three rabbits. They are taken from him, skinned, washed in the river, skewered, and put onto the fire's coals within 10 minutes.

Iskar, another farmer, comes riding by with his two dogs, his sheep. He crosses over the stream (leaving his flock on the other side) and sits with us and shares the meal of rabbit. We LOVE that he does so, noting the instant camaraderie of this nomadic life.