Lesotho in the saddle: a ride on Africa's rooftop

This little country smaller than Maryland is completely surrounded by South Africa and far different from its urbanized and accessorized neighbor. It is known as the Mountain Kingdom or rooftop of Africa: Its lowest point is 3,280 feet high. People, for the most part, live as they did centuries ago, without electricity, gathering water from its source, grazing animals on steep terrain, and growing just enough food for themselves. When not on foot, they get around on Basotho ponies, as they have since their first king, Moshoeshoe the Great, did in the early 19th century.

As have many before us, our family of five couldn't wait to abandon our car for a seat in the saddle, which is why we drove seven steamy hours from our home in Pretoria. My husband and I had doubts about our plan: pony trekking for a few days with three children 12 and under. We would sort it out at the Malealea Lodge (pronounced ma-leeya-leeya) just on the other side of that mountain.

We practically coasted to the lodge, where owner Di Jones showed us to our unadorned room painted a deep, dark green. We pulled our thick brown curtains shut to hide from the sun, sipped cool drinks, and made plans.

Malealea is a launching point for hiking, riding, and exploring this southwestern region of Lesotho, famed for its waterfalls, dinosaur tracks, and ancient paintings on rocks. It is a homey lodge with round huts, called rondavels, and family-style meals. Dogs mill from one guest to another, panting for a good pat. We were tempted by excursions in a 4 x 4 vehicle or a float down the Makhaleng River, if the drought had not reduced the size and might of the waterway. But the essence of the place's experience is pony trekking. It's what put Malealea on the map, after a glorious past as a trading post, run by an adventurous Englishman until the 1950s. The lodge hires local guides and ponies to take riders, both novice and experienced, into the mountains.

In our family, my daughter is the only one at home on a saddle. She comfortably gallops, jumps, and walks through the woods. She looks good on a horse with her straight back, reins nestled in her hands, feet resting in the stirrups.

The rest of us, my husband, my sons and I, are all liquid joints; we slip and slide in the saddle.