|The flat lands before the rivers of Simsimon.|
We stopped in front of a small sari-sari store (where people were hanging out and talking, waiting for nothing in particular), made our way across the first river and started walking.
|Poly sacks sewn roughly with plastic rope.|
At that point, I wasn't thinking at all about horses. I'd seen a few along the way, but thought nothing of them. Later on in the trip (i.e. the next day), 9+ hours of walking under my belt, I was praying that my fanny pack would drop onto the ground, have a supernatural vibration of some sort, and morph into a savior horse, like a scene in some folktale.
|The sack is stuffed with more plastic and old clothes.|
|A fancier saddle, still improvised, for an albino horse. The thing around its neck is part of a plastic water hose.|
|A closer view of the sack saddle, this one with elaborate machine-sewn padding and a wooden groin nest.|