This photo came to light last week after lingering eight years in my email inbox. How remiss of me not to archive the images that a guest kindly sent. (Thank you Wayne & Cec.) We were traversing a rare section of trail, one that I took only a handful of groups along, above the former border between the Austrian and Russian Empires. We were riding our regular one-week trip. For some reason I must have doubled back from the valley to the ridge, ascending the track we'd ridden down the previous evening. Usually we cut along the valley for a couple of miles then took a different track upward as I didn't like retracing my steps. To do so seemed like short-changing guests. There I am, riding the second horse, the Lipizzaner gelding Pintea who now resides in England. Who knows why I broke habit? Sometimes curiosity got the better of me. Or perhaps we'd come into the village in the valley, Ciocanesti, by an unaccustomed route? Whatever the reason, we traversed a high airy meadow. Like so many former military roads in the Carpathians, the trail sliced across a long and moderately steep slope attempting to maintain a relatively even gradient. I'm not overly fond of heights however I got used to these byways. A good steady horse helped, of course, and my horses were all reliable. The views were fabulous, as you can see. If I could go back now, I'd take food and drink, then I'd sit up there all day taking it all in. One cannot get too much of the mountains on a fine day. I'd slip back down to the cozy guesthouse in the gloaming, no sooner, ready for dinner and good company. That location, between Transylvania and the Bucovina, offered it all: lovely scenery, friendly people, reliable horses and nice places to stay.