The Watershed
All through my childhood I indulged in fantasies of a Champion the Wonder Horse, Virginian and High Chaparral inspired ranch holiday in America.  In those days I never imagined that my own state of mind would create the biggest barrier to the realisation of those dreams.  As described in Adventure Angst, Overcoming Adventure Angst and Across The Pond, I spent many years and expended much emotional energy overcoming elements of my anxiety, particularly related to flying.

And so I reached my fortieth year.  Somehow it seemed like a watershed, as good a year as any to plunge into the unknown and head out west.  The desire to travel was as strong as it had ever been but, as well as rewarding all my hard work with that dream holiday, I needed to benchmark my progress.  Before I set my sights on future destinations I had to find out whether I had conquered my fears to the extent that I believed I had.

Controlling The Uncontrollable
I know that relaxed travellers need the flexibility to cope with unpredictable situations.  But taking a laid back approach is completely at odds with my natural inclination to try to anticipate every eventuality in order to avoid anxiety.  This often leads to being completely thrown by some small and completely unanticipated spanner sneaking into the works.  

My past dissatisfaction with agent arranged holidays, particularly the Canadian fiasco (Across The Pond) left me wary.  However planning is essential in trying to effectively manage as much of the anxiety surrounding a trip as possible whether that trip is package or independent.  And I needed guidance particularly with regard to the trip's specialist locations.  After taking advice I dubiously plumped for a tailor made package with a solo touring week sandwiched between two ranch stays booked through an agent specialising in such holidays.  Reactions to my proposed trip varied vastly from the supportive encouragement of close friends to surprise, even shock, at my solo status.

I embarked on an intensive physical training programme long before I even committed myself to the trip because I was just a tad unfit.  In contrast most of my fellow city slickers came pretty much unprepared.  Although I learned to ride as a teenager, as an adult a number of scary falls had seriously dented my confidence.  At one point only my western aspirations kept me from giving up all together.  Instead I subjected myself to another painful desensitisation process.

Riding lessons can seriously dent your self-esteem especially when you think you know what you are doing and then find the only answer is complete retraining according to current thinking.  In the end all my hard work paid definite dividends.  By the end of July, after addition of three western style lessons culminating in cross-country rides across Devon, I felt fairly comfortable and confident both in general and at all the western paces.  I took courage that the coming adventure would be within my capabilities.