Riding in ruaha: a life long dream of mine
Some places get under your skin so deeply that they become part of who you are. For me, that place has always been Ruaha.
I grew up in Tanzania's Southern Highlands with Ruaha National Park as my backyard. Some of my earliest memories are of long days spent exploring the park by vehicle, peering out of dusty windows as we bumped along sandy tracks, stopping for punctures, picnics, and endless cups of tea and egg mayo sandwiches under acacia trees.
Ruaha was never a place I simply visited. It was part of my childhood. It shaped the way I saw the world. I grew up with the smell of dust after the first rains, the sound of cicadas in the heat of the day, and stories of lions, elephants, and wild places around the dinner table. Some of my happiest memories are of coming home sunburnt, dusty, and completely exhausted after another day spent exploring the bush.
Even as a child, though, I never wanted to experience Ruaha from behind a windscreen. A horse always seemed like the better idea. I remember staring at the acacia trees that had been pulled down by elephants and imagining jumping them on horseback. I would look across the open plains we called the "Little Serengeti" and dream of galloping across them with my horse's mane in my hands and the wind in my face. Every sight of the Ruaha River felt like an invitation.
One day. I told myself, I would ride my horse across that river.
Years passed and horses became my life. I bred them, trained them, and built my world around them. Some of my horses are homebred; born and raised by me. Others found me in different ways; rescued, forgotten, underestimated, and given another chance. Every single one has a story and together we have learned through horsemanship, through patience, trust, mistakes, and understanding. They are my teachers, my partners, and my greatest adventure companions.
Now, I get to explore Ruaha not through a vehicle window, but in real time, from the back of my horse. I get to feel the crunch of dry river sand beneath my horse's hooves as we watch a herd of elephants cross the river in front of us. I get to listen to lions roaring only metres away while my horses prick their ears and quietly take it all in. I get to canter through golden grasslands, following game paths that have only ever been used by wildlife. I get to weave between ancient baobabs and jump every fallen acacia tree.
On horseback, the pace is slower. The smells are stronger. You hear every bird call, every rustle in the grass, every deep rumble of an elephant somewhere ahead. You notice things that you would otherwise drive straight past. The landscape unfolds around you rather than rushing by.
Every now and then, I catch myself looking across a plain or approaching a fallen acacia tree, and I remember those childhood dreams. A tear comes to my eye and I smile because this is it. This is exactly what I imagined all those years ago.
A little girl from the Southern Highlands who grew up with Ruaha on her doorstep, who spent her childhood covered in dust and dreaming of one day exploring this wilderness on horseback.
Sometimes, like me, if you are lucky enough, patient enough, and brave enough to chase a dream, they become your life. I cannot think of anywhere more special for that dream to have come true than here, in Ruaha.
Written by T. Russell
