With a last valiant effort, the engine gives a final heave and stills. The slowly sinking sun lights the pumice and tussock around us, as if it is trying to show us there’s no help coming. We’re stranded on the side of the Desert Road in the Kaimanawa Ranges, out of coverage and miles from civilisation. Soon, it will get dark.
Mum hits the steering wheel and mutters angrily. I stare across at Mt Ruapehu looming ominously on our right, the sun reflecting sharply off the perfect white snow. When Mum shoves open her car door and climbs out, I do the same.
The cool air of evening stings my face but I breathe it in, enjoying the sour taste on my tongue like fresh lemonade. Mum scans the surrounding land and, seeing nothing, climbs back into the car.
I stay out and take a step into the tussock. Then another. Then I’m running, leaping and racing forward like a bounding hare, freedom calling. I try to stop but give up until my foot suddenly catches on a larger piece of tussock and my centre of gravity shifts forward. I fall hard on to the dry ground. I smile and roll over to gaze at the darkening sky.
For a moment, the light of the deep orange and gold sunset blinds me. I close my eyes, waiting for the imprint of the bright light to fade before opening them again. Then I see it. Right there in front of me. Finally, the thing I’ve been searching for every single time we drive along this road. It turns its head on an angle to stare at me with one of its beautiful black eyes, so deep it seems that an ocean of knowledge and wisdom is contained in that single pupil.
I sit up slowly and the thing – the foal – jumps back nervously, tottering on weak legs. Gently, I stand up and reach out. Holding my hand completely still, I watch as the wild animal stretches out its long neck. I close my eyes, knowing that this is the eye of the storm. A soft breath, a quiet snort and a dream comes true. I have touched a wild horse. A Kaimanawa foal!
Then, it all happens at once. A shrill whinny echoes around the plains. The foal rears back and I stumble forward, my hand clutching at empty air. My head snaps back and I cry out. Right in front of me is another horse. A mare. And she’s angry. Her teeth bared, she lunges at me and lets loose a strange guttural roar.
I wake with a start. My hand is stretched out in front of me, almost stroking the front seat of the car. My other arm is pulled up to shield myself. That strange roar comes again and the car stops. The slowly sinking sun lights the pumice and tussock around us. We’re stranded on the side of the Desert Road in the Kaimanawa Ranges, out of coverage and miles from civilisation.
Mum shoves open her car door and climbs out. I do the same. The cool air of evening stings my face but I breathe it in and watch as Mum scans the surrounding land and, seeing nothing, climbs back into the car. I stay out and take a step into the tussock. Then another. Then I’m running, leaping and racing forward, bounding like a hare, freedom and fate calling.
