Where Legends Ride: From Celestial Mountain Trails to World Arenas

Apr 10

Today, we want to speak about those who remain behind the scenes, but without whom none of this would be possible.

The invisible heroes of our project — people for whom horses and mountains are not just a job. They are a way of life. A calling. A soul.

In winter, when frost grips the land, they are the first to go to the herds. They feed them, care for them, and ensure the health of every single horse.

And in summer, when the steppe comes alive, they guide the herds high into the mountains — to places that are dangerous for anyone without deep knowledge of the terrain and instincts honed by generations.

They know every trail. They sense where the herds hide.

Because horses and mountains live in their blood, their genes, their hearts.

Kuku, Yrys, and Yryskeldi are almost always behind the camera.

But recently, they returned as champions — from the Horseball World Championship in Argentina.

There, among the best teams in the world, our team took 2nd place in its division, and our player Tyson, number 5, became the tournament’s top scorer.

*Taison. not easy to become top scorer of whole championship!*

The championship brought together 15 nations — from Europe, Asia, North and South America, and Australia.

And among them stood Kyrgyzstan.

Our team. Our dream.

On the field — we were rivals.

But off the field — all nations, we were one family, united by our shared love for horses and for a sport where the saddle is the battlefield, and the ball is an extension of the soul.

When our flag rose and the decisive matches played out — tears filled our eyes.

Because we knew: we belonged there.

We were part of something much greater.

We were representing our mountains, our people, our heritage.

Each of us replays those moments over and over — the missed shots, the triumphs, the miracles, the hugs.

They are now a part of us forever.

The championship gave us more than medals. It gave us belief. Unity. A family.

We spoke different languages, but we understood each other with a single glance.

Because horses teach us to speak with the heart, and horseball teaches us to listen with it.

Saying goodbye was the hardest part.

We hugged, eyes full of tears, not wanting it to end.

But deep down, we all knew:

We will meet again.

Somewhere on this earth — once more in the saddle, with the ball in our hands, and that same deep, unshakable love for horses that once united us — and surely will again.