The rugged high country echoed with the thunderous pounding of hooves, horses surging forward, nostrils flared and eyes wild. Jim Craig leaned forward, expertly balanced on his mount, charging down a near-vertical slope, defying gravity itself. Behind himāsomehow managing a blend of dignity, terror, and sheer musical dedicationāthe entire orchestra sat precariously mounted on horseback, instruments clutched desperately as they bounced rhythmically along. At the head, their conductor, perched astride an energetic black stallion, clutched her baton in one hand and reins in the other. "Clarinets, follow his descent! Graceful and energetic!" she shouted over the wind, voice strained with adrenaline. As Jim plunged boldly downward, clarinets soared in spirited unison, each note matching the breathless leaps and lunges of their horses. "Mind your tuning!" the conductor hollered anxiously, ducking to avoid a low-hanging branch. The brass section, atop sturdy draught horses, puffed valiantly to keep up, cheeks red with exertion as they punctuated each daring leap with bold fanfares. "Trumpets! Less vibrato, more valor!" the conductor urged passionately, barely avoiding losing her hat to the fierce mountain breeze. Ahead, Jim skidded around a perilous bend, expertly controlling his horseās slide on loose gravel. Percussionists gripped their instruments with white knuckles, timpani drums bouncing unsteadily, their thunderous beats perfectly synchronized with each heart-stopping hoofbeat. "Hold steady, percussion!" yelled the conductor encouragingly, suppressing her own look of mild panic. "Steady rhythm, steady rhythm!" Jim's horse made a breathtaking leap over a rocky gully. Flutists gasped, clutching their instruments and their horses' manes simultaneously, managing a surprisingly harmonious trill mid-air. "Bravo, woodwinds! Lovely phrasing!" she cheered, before quickly ducking another branch. "Someone remind me why we didn't rehearse this in a safer venue!" "Authenticity!" cried Vanessa the trombonist cheerfully, narrowly avoiding collision with a eucalyptus. At last, Jim reached the bottom, pulling his horse expertly to a stop, chest heaving triumphantly. Behind him, the orchestra trickled down, horses panting, musicians frazzled but somehow still managing a final, enthusiastic chord. The conductor, disheveled but exhilarated, lowered her baton slowly, taking in the exhausted, dirt-smeared musicians. "Well," she announced, breathless and somewhat astonished, "that's certainly one way to get a standing ovation." Join us at the Old Museum Building for an afternoon of musical story-telling on Sunday 30th November, 2pm - tickets via www.kgwo.org.au or by clicking the yellow button below.Ā | 
