Ride Story: Lead-Follow @ McDowell 75

Now that is how to wrap up a ride season. In the words of one of my high school ROTC teachers, “Finish strong.” In a season that was all over the place with changes of plans, lots of unexpected happenings, and numerous highs and lows, it felt good to wrap up the year on a high note.

The cliffnotes version: Cristina asked me to ride Atti in the 75 at McDowell. It was his first 75 (mine, too) and we finished with a strong horse who was still pulling on me at the end, in 5th place with a ride time of 12:49, and a finish CRI of 52/48. He was a blast to ride, and was a total rockstar all day long.

74154902-2017-Lead-Follow-McDowell-0424

photo: Sue Kordish/Cowgirl Photography

The full-length novel version: Where do I even begin? After Virginia City, the plan was to go for the 75 at McDowell with Beeba — after all, we did 76 miles at VC, so McDowell should be doable, right? The pull at man Against Horse put the kibosh on that plan, and future endurance endeavors for her, and I went back to the drawing board. Not for very long, though, because the Monday after MAH, Cristina texted me to find out my availability for McDowell and if I wanted to take the younger horse she’s training, Cosmo, in the LD, while she took Atti, her more experienced horse, on their first 75.

Since I had nothing set in stone, she claimed first dibs on me, and I was happy to have offered what would likely be a fun, easy ride.

And then a couple weeks out from the ride, she asked if I might consider riding Atti in the 75 instead. Some of her personal plans had changed, and it worked better for her schedule to ride the LD…but she really wanted Atti to do the longer distance, especially given that 75s and 100s are in  short supply around here, so we have to take advantage of them when they’re offered.

Just to establish the significance of this offer: Atti is to Cristina what Mimi is to me. Super-special heart horses that we’ve poured our hearts and souls into. The level of trust and confidence she had in me to make that offer…I have a hard time putting into words just how much that meant to me.

IMG_0049

This adorable face was still perky and earnest 24+ hours later.

Friday afternoon, I stuffed the back of my suburban full of food, clothes, and camping gear, and made the quick, 45-minute drive up to McDowell. It’s currently my most local ride, and it’s really convenient. I got my little camp set up, and a space saved for Cristina to arrive with her rig and the ponies later that afternoon, then wandered around camp and socialized for the rest of the afternoon.

IMG_0048

Nasty little hitchhiker that was hanging out in my rolled up air mattress. Welcome to Arizona desert life.

Once Cristina arrived, we whisked the ponies off the trailer and immediately over to vet in  while it was still light and before dinner started.

Ride dinner was done Friday night before briefing…I’ve waffled back and forth on how I feel about this, since I do like a good ride awards dinner afterwards, and not having to cook after I’ve just been riding. But in this case, it was kind of nice to not have to meal plan, since dinner was provided Friday, and I would be riding through the dinner hour and living on a steady diet of pre-made sandwiches on Saturday.

IMG_0043

Ride day food: a selection of turkey/cheese, pb&j, and tuna. A wide variety for whatever my taste buds wanted at the time.

I’ve ridden the McDowell trails for so long (one of my home training grounds), and done the ride multiple times, so knowing the trails was a major strength for me going into the ride. The park itself has all of the trails marked/signed incredibly well, and the ride maps/directions are very thorough. Not only a makred map, but written turn-by-turn directions, plus ribbons, laminated signs, chalk lines, and glow sticks out on the trails.

After briefing I did some last minute tack fiddling, switching out stirrups and adding a mini cantle pack to be able to carry electrolytes and carrots, and mixing up a bottle of said electrolytes.

Sleep didn’t come easy for me Friday night. As always, first night camping/staying anywhere is always more restless, and the back of the suburban is surprisingly not particularly soundproof, so I was hearing every noise and sound. Plus, being surrounded by windows makes it way too easy to always be looking out to see if the horse is still attached to the trailer, etc. I know I got some sleep, but woke up before my alarm was set to go ff, so used the time to just slowly start getting dressed and nibbling on some breakfast. My camp stove also picked this trip to stop working, so I had to suffer through the indignity of cold coffee to start my morning. (Which, funny enough, actually sat better than hot coffee does sometimes…)

This was probably the least nervous I’ve been at a ride start in a really long time. Atti reminds me so much of riding Mimi that I had the same comfort level with him as I do with her, and the same level of trust that a laundry list of shenanigans would not be forthcoming. He has the same kind of complete non-explosiveness/non-reactivity that Mimi does and I felt really relaxed and settled with him.

There were 12 starters in the 75, and since it was still dark for our 6AM start, we got a controlled start through the first couple of miles. There was a group of 5 of us that were sort of starting out together, but ended up spread out within the first few miles, and Atti and I found ourselves a nice little space bubble with Andrea and Lilly.

IMG_0054

Just before sunrise.

The first loop has the rockiest parts of the whole trail, but overall the course is practically a groomed racetrack, especially compared to the last two rides. Andrea also did Virginia City and Man Against Horse, so we were laughing at the “rocky” sections this time, and reveling in the luxury of being able to “walk the rocks.”

IMG_0056

A beautiful desert sunrise.

Part of the first loop trail is an out-and-back with a water stop and checkpoint about 10 miles in. We took a very quick break here — drink, electrolyte, duck behind a bush to offload coffee (and discover Atti believes in the tandem peeing phenomenon). The front-runnign 50s and caught us during this stretch, and heading back to the main trail is a lot of two-way traffic was people are heading to the water, and back out. It’s a fun section because you do get to see people behind you, and it’s always fun to say hi to friends along the way.

IMG_0059

Obligatory, “oh, look, rocks!” photo.

Aside from being passed by the first half-dozen 50 milers, we had the most perfect space bubble for most of this loop, and we made really good time, taking advantage of the cooler weather while we had it.

The next water stop was at the maintenance shed, 21 miles in. It’s a great stop because volunteers can drive right up to it, so they are able to bring hay, plenty of water buckets and sponge buckets, and have a hose hooked up and available to spray the horses off. It was quite congested when we got to the stop, a conglomeration of all of the distances meeting at one place. We let the horses drink, grab some hay, electrolyted, and I gave Atti a quick sponging before hopping back on and scuttling out of there, trying to keep our space bubble.

74154901-2017-Lead-Follow-McDowell-0412

Just after leaving the maintenance shed. Photo: John Kordish/Cowgirl Photography

I love this section of trail after the maintenance shed. It’s smooth single-track, just slightly down hill, and it’s a really fun ride. Atti and I were leading through here, and he just cruised through on light contact, effortlessly ticking off between an 8-9mph trot.

At the road crossing and water troughs just a couple miles from camp, we caught up with Cristina on Cosmo, coming in off her first loop on the LD, so we ended up riding back in with her, which made for perfect timing as Atti and Cosmo could spend their hold time together.

IMG_0061

Wagon train heading back in to camp from loop one.

I took a few minutes puttering around at the water buckets (trying to find one that didn’t have bees in it, always a challenge at this ride…), but Atti had taken a huge drink just a couple miles before camp, so wasn’t particularly interested in drinking again so soon.

He was at 56 as soon as his pulse as taken (criteria was 64), and I took him right over to vet. Mostly As, and even a fairly cheerful trot-out, which he normally doesn’t really see the point in doing. We headed back to the trailer and I set him up with a buffet offering of different foods to appease his somewhat picky appetite.

Cristina helped crew me and Atti — gave him a sponge-down and wrapped his legs while I sat down and browsed through my food cooler. Got my hydration pack re-filled with water and snacks, tacked up, met back up with Andrea, and was at the out-timer 10 seconds before my out-time.

Both Lilly and Atti headed out of camp doing a bit of “drunken sailor” weaving down the trailer…trotting, but in such a manner that suggested they would be perfectly happy to turn around and go back to camp now, thankyouverymuch. It was about 11AM at this point, and starting to warm up. This second loop is always the warmest, with most of the trail being very exposed, and some sections with very little breeze or air movement.

IMG_0065

The Scenic Trail trudge. That’s okay, Atti, no one likes this climb.

Shortly after leaving camp, the trail climbs to the top of a ridgeline on the appropriately-named Scenic Trail. It is very scenic, and you can see for miles around in all directions. It’s also exposed, has some rocky sections, and tends to be rather warm. So it can be a bit of a trudge-climb, but Atti handled it with really good humor and just kept marching along.

There’s a tendency to think of McDowell as a “flat” ride, because there appear to be very few visible climbs of any significance. But the GPS stats after the fact tell a different story.

gps.jpg

While they aren’t huge elevation gains, there are several long, sustained, constant uphills that are 5-8 miles of steady climbing up. It doesn’t look that way from the ground — it looks really flat and very speed-friendly, and there aren’t many obvious spots to go “oh, great time for a walk break.” So we  utilized a “trot for x number of minutes, then walk for x number of minutes” strategy, combined with bit of a “trot to the next ribbon” approach. It worked, and we ended up with a pretty consistent pace and minimal sulking from the ponies.

IMG_0068

“Granite Tank” water stop. This is the furthest point away from camp on this loop, and the horses are usually so sulky/pouty by this point. And then you make a turn and are directly pointed towards camp and they magically recover and get all perky again.

IMG_0070

Classy dude. Decorations left over from the last couple weeks of trail races that had been held at the park.

Both Atti and Lilly drank really well here. I hopped off and electrolyted them both, as well as sponged their necks. The next section of trail was a really fun, slightly downhill single-track they just begs to be trotted, and would take us right back to the maintenance shed checkpoint again.

IMG_0073

Trotting through a section of staghorn cholla “forest”

This section of trail used to be this long slog through a deep sand wash, but McDowell put in several new trails a couple years ago — beautiful, rolling singletrack that paralleled some of the old washes. These new trails make for so much better going and greatly enhanced my outlook on this particular ride.

IMG_0080

Eating, drinking, and getting hosed off at the maintenance shed.

Back at the maintenance shed, we had a space bubble of just the two of us, and the volunteers that were running the check were friends of ours, so we stayed for several minutes letting the horses eat and taking some time to  hose them off and let them cool down a bit.

74154903-2017-Lead-Follow-McDowell-0940

Leaving the maintenance shed on the second loop. photo: Sue Kordish/Cowgirl Photography

On this loop, instead of getting to go directly back to camp from the maintenance shed, you have to turn around and go back out in the opposite direction away from camp, go a ways down the trail, then pick up another trail that takes you back to camp. Most horses consider this cruel and unusual punishment. Not sure how much the riders love it, either.

IMG_0083

Eastern side of the McDowells — I call it the “rock giants’ playground”

IMG_0087

Snack break along the way

This ride only has two vet holds, so as a rider, it was really on me to take the time along the trail to stop and let Atti get some recovery breaks along the way, especially to eat. It’s really easy to get caught up in the nice trail and just cruise through the loops, so I was trying to be really conscious of looking for good areas to pause for a “grazing opportunity,” such as it was, since the whole desert is dry, brown, and crunchy right now.

Once we turned back for camp, it was a “all downhill from here” kind of trail, so we made some good time, although it was really getting warm out there. (Apparently parts of the trail hit 95°.) The horses drank well again at the road crossing water troughs, then boogied the last two miles into camp.

A significant milestone for me: this ride put me over my 500 endurance miles. That only took 12 years. Hopefully the next 500 don’t take that long. I feel like everything finally “came together” for me as a rider at this ride. In the past, I think I’ve been apt to not give myself enough credit, or just follow the lead of a more experienced rider. But this time, it was really on me to make sure I was making smart pacing decisions, really listening to the horse, and using my own judgment. It was a huge confidence boost to have everything go well and to finish so well, and while McDowell is a great “step-up” ride, it’s not an “easy” ride.

Atti was down at 52 for his pulse, and a couple more Bs on his vet card — apparently all completely within his “normal.” I repeated the same process as the first check: yank tack back at the trailer, set him in front of his buffet of goodies, wrap his legs, then sit down for a few minutes to eat/drink. Refill water pack, tack up, administer BCAAs.

I made a slight strategy error here. I was supposed to electrolyte him, but I was rushing to tack up and make my out-time, and my brain interpreted the syringing of his BCAAs as me having given electrolytes.

When I swung by Andrea’s trailer on the way to the out-timer, she told me to go ahead — she wasn’t feeling great after the heat on the second loop, so was going to stay back a little bit longer to recover.

Every ride, you have to go in with the mentality of being prepared to ride your own ride — riding partners get pulled, horses don’t pace well together, etc. Atti is used to training by himself, so I wasn’t concerned about that part. But given the drunken sailor routine at leaving on the second loop, I wasn’t sure what I was going to end up with when we went out a third time.

I opted to try for the “forward” strategy. I asked him for a nice trot up to the out-timer, and since we were right on our out-time, we got waved through and out onto the trail. Atti quite cheerfully trotted out of camp onto the trail, and not 100′ from camp, willing broke into a canter on his own and cantered the next 1/4-mile out of camp before slowing to his relaxed, 8 mph trot.

Okay, then. Guess he’s happy to be going out.

IMG_0092

Out on loop three by ourselves.

Being out there by ourselves, I finally let myself get a little bit emotional/happy teary. He reminds me so much of riding Mimi that this felt almost like I was out there again with her. I thought it might make me kind of sad and remind me of all the ride goals I had for her that we never go to do before her retirement, but instead it was a reminder of how much fun I’ve had with her along the way, how much I’ve learned from her, and how much we were able to accomplish. I’m just glad she doesn’t have Facebook or the ability to read a blog, since she would be very jealous about all of my catch riding and “cheating” on her.

Atti maintained his good cheer for probably the first third of the loop. Then we hit one of those long, slow, uphill slogs away from camp, and some of the enthusiasm deflated. Cristina had told me he is a very honest horse, and that when he wants to walk, it’s because he needs it. So we walked a good part of the uphill trail section. I hopped off and did part of the trail on foot as well, a mix of running and hiking. I had done some of the second loop on foot, and it felt really good to get out of the saddle and stretch.

Once we hit the next trail section that was vaguely in the “homeward” direction, Atti perked right back up again and gave me his lovely, loose-rein trot.

IMG_0095

Making it through the “trail hazards” section before dark.

Being out at dusk is an interesting time. I’ve noticed horses tend to be on higher alert as the sun goes down, since it’s often the predator dinner hour. Atti was definitely paying attention to things — he has a tendency to “peek” at dead logs and barrel cactus — but he was still forward and never spooked at anything.  It was also cooling down as the sun went down, and it was just breathtakingly beautiful to be out there that time of evening.

IMG_0103

I love my desert.

We went to the maintenance shed one final time, and I ended up staying here for probably a good 15 minutes because Atti wasn’t eating/drinking the way I wanted to see. I don’t know if he was getting physically tired or more mentally tired/pouty because he was out there by himself and it was the longest he’d ever been, distance-wise. So I walked him from bucket to bucket, waiting for him to find one that met his approval, and hand-fed him bits of hay. After about 5 minutes of this, he finally decided to take a good drink, and started more actively munching at hay, so I spent another 10 minutes hanging out letting him eat.

It was full dark by this point, and once he indicated he was done with eating, we headed back out — another “head in the opposite direction of camp” trail, the same one we had come in to the maintenance shed on during loop two. Not two minutes out from the stop, we ended up crossing paths with Andrea, riding with Jill and Stephanie, on their way in to the minatenance shed. I didn’t feel like backtracking, so I told them I was going to keep on moving along, albeit probably slowly, and they would likely catch up with me.

So we trucked on through the dark. The qucik rest stop had perked Atti right up again, especially when I realized “duh, he drank, better electrolyte” and hopped off and quickly stuffed a syringe in his mouth. We alternated walking and trotting along — it was another long uphill grade, so we just took it easy. I also knew that once his buddies caught up, he would probably perk right up from the herd mentality, so I wanted to give him a couple more miles of letting him pick whatever pace he wanted.

It was so dark out there, and I gave up trying to determine what exactly was trail and what was just reflective glowing desert ground. Atti knew, though, and he never strayed off the path. So I sat back and let him do his thing. We actually made it the couple miles up to the Granite Tank water stop and were diving into the water there before the other three caught up with us. Atti had been drinking fine when we got there, but once he buddies showed up, he dove back into the water buckets with renewed enthusiasm. So there as definitely a bit of “all by myself out here, so I’m going to pout/sulk” mental stuff going on. Which, eh…for a first go at a longer distance, I think that was the only “wall” he really hit.

From there, it was only about 8 miles to the finish, so I joined up with the merry band of ladies, much to Atti’s happiness, and Stephanie and Hadji lead us home. I love riding at night…who needs Disneyland and Mr Toad’s Wild Ride? It’s seriously a fun rush, and so exhilarating. I hadn’t bothered with glowsticks, and had a headlamp as backup but didn’t ever turn it on.

The closer we got to camp, the stronger Atti got, until he was pulling on me as much in the last 5 miles has he was in the first 5. We all walked the last quarter mile or so in, and crossed the finish line in a ride time of 12:49. I think we ended up 5th out of 12? We were in 5th at the maintenance shed, then there was a finish line pull ahead of us, but Stephanie came in ahead of us at the finish. So I think 5th? Will have to confirm that when results come out, but either 5th or 6th. Pulsed down and vetted through immediately, with a finish CRI of 52/48. He thought trotting out was dumb, but he was still perky and talking to me even at the end, and he dove into his food when I took him back to the trailer.

IMG_0109

Cristina’s parents had come to help pack up camp, and then take the horses to overnight at their place where they would have grass pasture turnout, so I wrapped Atti’s legs while they packed things up, and once he was settled and had some recovery time, loaded him and Cosmo up and they headed out. I retrieved my completion award (a fun color-changing clock) and top ten award (collapsible bucket), then headed home myself — my own bed was so worth the 45-minute drive versus staying in camp overnight.

That’s about the best way I can think to wrap up what’s been a very interesting 2017 ride season. This completion finally put me over 500 endurance miles…that only took 12 years. Hopefully it doesn’t take another 12 to get the next 500. Guess we’ll see what 2018 brings.

Ride Story: Virginia City 100

IMG_9690

photo by Gore-Baylor Photography

I still don’t know the exact clear, concise words to use to describe my Virginia City experience, other than there will be a lot of them. It was an absolutely amazing adventure, with highs and lows, and enough “highlight” moments seared in my brain to last a really long time.

Long story short: We did get pulled at 76 miles. We were overtime to be able to make it through the last loop in enough time, but Beeba was also off on the right hind at the trot. We went in knowing that a finish was an extremely tall order: it was the first 100 for both myself and Beeba, and we had picked a notoriously difficult 100. Nothing like a challenge, right?

It ended up being one of the most amazing ride experiences to date. I am completely in love with the “over 50” distance; had we had the time and been cleared to go, I would have been completely ready to tackle that last loop.

Advice that I got from a friend for doing 100s was “start with a horse you really like spending time with.” That was certainly the case with Beeba. Three conditioning rides ahead of time had me firmly convinced I liked the mare; after 76 miles and a ride environment, that relationship is solidified even more. Maybe I’m just drawn to horses with “interesting” personalities, but some of my favorites in my life have been mares with very strong personalities.

I’ve long-suspected that I would enjoy 100s — that was the main goal when I got into endurance, after all, but sometimes the reality ends up being different than the expectation. Well, I loved it. We didn’t get the full 100 miles (yet!), but I loved the mentality of even being entered in a hundred. On a ride that is a “standalone” 100 like Tevis or Virginia City, there is a different vibe than a multi-distance ride. Endurance is already a small group, but the world of 100-milers feels even more special, like you’re a part of something really unique. I’ve been on the periphery of that vibe with the number of times I’ve crewed Tevis, but standing there listening to the ride meeting as one of the riders was really something else. It’s taken me over 10 years in the sport, but I feel like I really found my niche with this distance. It’s like every fiber of my being was screaming “This is why you’ve been doing this for the past decade!

There’s also a different mentality that happens during the ride. When I’m doing an LD, 25 miles kind of seems like “huh, that’s a bit of a ways.” But 25 miles was our first vet check, and when we hit it, it didn’t seem like it was that long. Same with going out on the second loop after 51 miles. Normally I’m used to being done at 50, so around 46 miles, I start thinking “almost done” or “are we done yet?”. This time, I didn’t feel that same mental fatigue…I felt like I was definitely in the right “head space” for tackling a hundred.

There is no question that VC is a very challenging ride. This year in particular was especially challenging — an extremely wet winter took a toll on the trail, leaving behind a lot of erosion and even more rocks than normal. Multiple time finishers concurred afterwards that this was the toughest they’ve seen the trail in recent history. So I feel extremely good about getting as far as we did, and like everyone said, we did the hard part.

A week-long adventure makes for one heck of a story, so this’ll probably be a bit long-winded and disjointed as I try to gather my thoughts together into something of a cohesive fashion.

If you missed the earlier blog posts about the subject, my Virginia City story started with the offer from my friend Kim to take her mare to the ride. Kim was already planning to go to the ride, and offered to take her mare Beeba along if I wanted to ride. The mare hadn’t done a 100, and as Kim put it, “The stars will all have to align for her to finish” but she was available if I was interested.

Actually, back up a little bit: the whole idea of riding VC started percolating at Tevis this year. Since it was the 50th anniversary, excitement was already running high for it, and the Sunday after Tevis, Lucy started dropping hints at the awards banquet about how I should see if I could ride it this year (actually, a little less subtle than hints…she was straight out farming me out to people who might have an extra horse, or know someone with an extra horse…).

Anyway, whatever vibes she put out there must have worked, because it was that next week after I got back from Tevis that I got the offer from Kim. And so the adventure began. We had about a month before VC, so I was able to get three good training rides in on Beeba. I  enjoyed riding her right from the get-go, since, although she’s got an attitude (“chestnut mare”), she’s sensible and not spooky, which are the kind of horses I get along with the best.

Since Virginia City is a good 900 miles from Phoenix, we were splitting the drive into two days, as well as adding an extra day in there to give the horses some more recovery time. We were also going to be participating in a research study in conjunction with the ride on dehydration and weight loss in endurance horses — horses were to be weighed within a couple of days before leaving home, then weighed upon arrival to the ride, and then throughout the ride at all the major vet checks, and then at the end. It was really fascinating to see the numbers fluctuate, and once the results are emailed to us, I’ll do a separate blog post about the subject.

Our small caravan (Kim, her husband Garry [crew], and myself had the 3 horses: Nort [Kim], Beeba [me], and Lily [Andrea]; Andrea [the third rider in our group] and her husband Mike [crew], and their 3 dogs had all of the hay and extra gear in their trailer so that the 3 horses could travel together) left Tuesday morning, on the road by 7.

(Leaving was not without some drama on my end first: Mimi colicked Monday night, and I ended up having to bring the vet out Tuesday [coordinating all of this while I’m on the road] to clear up what was a minor impaction…she was all good by Tuesday evening, but that was some major stress and anxiety for me most of the day Tuesday.)

We drove about 9 hours to our first overnight stop in Tonopah, NV. There’s a nice rodeo grounds on the outskirts of the town, so we were able to turn the horses out in the arena for a leg stretch several times, and they had nice stalls to overnight in. It was also close enough to be able to unhitch the truck and make a grocery run into town. Some weather blew in during the evening, and we had off and on thunderstorms all night long.

Hmmm. My weather curse apparently *hasn’t* broken yet. Might as well resign myself to getting rained on at some point at every significant event I do this year.

Wednesday was a shorter drive, about 5 hours up to Washoe Lake State Park, only about 30 minutes away from ridecamp. Camp didn’t open until 2pm Thursday, so this was as close as we could get while still getting that extra recovery day. Washoe has a great horse camp set-up, though — we had a couple of covered stalls, plus another arena to turn them out.

Once we got the horses settled, we made a quick run into town (Carson City) to the Tractor Supply Company for a few forgotten items (kind of digging this whole “nearby conveniences” thing on this trip), and by the time we got back to Washoe, a major storm was blowing in. And by major, I mean about an inch and half of rain in less than a couple hours, bean-sized hail, thunder, lightning, and apparently some mini-tornados closer up to Reno. Eek.

I also had some concerns about the moisture levels in the stalls; the sheer volume of water meant water was coming into the stalls, and they were standing in puddles. Soft, wet hooves…another concern for both gluing boots as well as all the rocks. Oh, well. Nothing to do but dump shavings in the stall once the rain stopped and hope things dried out.

Thursday morning we killed some extra time with ride “housekeeping” items — glowsticks on breastcollars, saddle packs filled, etc., before we loaded back up and headed over to the ride. Up to this point, I felt like I was on a relaxing horse camping vacation. I was also working, but even with that, I still had some relaxation and down time, which was probably a really good thing for my mental state.

We pulled into camp just a few minutes before 2, and were given a very choice spot close to the middle of everything. (Okay, so *everything* is close at the Ice House parking…it’s a very “cozy” ridecamp and there is some creative parking involved.) Ridecamp is literally right in town — you end up riding through town several times, and the start is on Main Street, in front of the Delta Saloon. (Start at a saloon, end at a cemetery…there’s got to be some kind of humorous tagline and/or life lesson out of that, right?)

The Ice House base camp is just that — the old ice storage house from when Virginia City was in its heyday as a mining town. It’s now used by the county as a storage lot for gravel and asphalt grindings piles, so it’s pretty rocky/gravelly footing. We got camp set up and the horses settled in, and got our arrival weights done on the horses.  After eyeballing the gravel, I decided to glue boots on then instead of having Beeba stand around on the rocks all night.

I’ll do a whole separate post on gluing protocol for those that are interested, but suffice to say…I got the job done. It wasn’t gorgeous, but those suckers stayed on.

IMG_9542

Boots on. And only a few dozen bad words were uttered.

Once gluing was over and done with, I was able to relax a bit more — one more stressful thing checked off the list. Camp was already filling up by Thursday evening, and they started sending larger rigs down to the overflow parking at the rodeo grounds, and by Friday morning, they managed to shoehorn in a couple more rigs at Ice House, and then everyone else got sent down to the overflow lot. (Normal years, this ride sees maybe 40-45 riders. This year, they started 70!)

Thursday night dinner was a fun affair — Kaity was also riding, so we made arrangements to join forces and do dinner that evening. She made chicken fajitas, we took care of sides, and had a wonderful group dinner.

Friday morning was a leisurely hang-out in camp. Kim and Garry made a supply run, and I hung out with the horses and socialized — a number of friends were at the ride, so it was really good to be able to have a couple hours of relaxed conversation. Normally I’m used to getting to camp and scurrying around like a cracked-out ferret trying to get stuff done, so to be this relaxed and together was a bit of a novel concept to me. The biggest ride challenge I’ve tackled to date, and I was still surprisingly chill about the whole thing.

Andrea also had Cristina come in as crew, so we spent some time catching up, as well as going over some overall crew logistics for all of us.

Once Kim got back, we saddled up and headed out through town for a pre-ride to be able to see at least the first couple of miles we would be riding in the dark. And that’s when things fell apart a little bit. The horses were actually doing really well for the first bit through town, but then things started escalating  — construction air guns hissing, children at recess running and screaming, the train whistle going off, the school alarm going off. The horses started getting more and more amped up, and so we all hopped off and walked the next mile or so to the edge of town where we got back on and rode out another mile or so on the trail and then back-tracked. Once we hit pavement, I hopped off again and walked most of the way through town until we got back to the familiar streets around camp we had hand-walked several times, so was comfortable enough to get back on and ride back into camp.

IMG_9573

Heading out to pre-ride. L to R: me, Kim, Andrea

Hmmm. Not the most auspicious pre-ride. Not sure how this was going to bode for the start. Granted, at 5am on a Saturday there wasn’t going to be construction, or screaming children. But still…consider my ride nerves officially activated.

But I did my best to not think about that, and instead concentrated on what needed to be done that afternoon – once we were back to camp and had the horses untacked, they had rider check-in set up, so we wandered over and grabbed our packets, and went back to the trailer to examine our goodies. They had some great ride sponsors this year, and we ended up with some nice coupons, some samples of Hammer products, and a sample of Squirrel’s Nut Butter, which, contrary to how the name may sound, is not for spreading on your morning toast.

Vetting was supposed to start at 3, but unfortunately both of the vets were delayed and it wasn’t until a little after 5 that we ended up being able to vet in. Normally this kind of thing really stresses me out and throws me and my carefully coordinated planning into a tailspin, since delays tend to have a trickle-down effect…meaning dinner would be later, and ride meeting later, and bedtime later. I know I was a little bit stressed/anxious/annoyed at this point, but actually shook it off pretty fast…not like there was anything I could do to control the situation, and stressing about it would just waste valuable energy.

Once vetting starting, we scuttled over to get in line (advantage of being parked close), and only had to stand around for 15 minutes or so. Beeba vetted in beautifully – stood politely, trotted in-hand well. I found it interesting she had a couple of B’s on gut sounds, especially when she had been stuffing food in all day long.

21616194_10155985122970649_691589894728795610_n

Waiting in line to vet. Photo by Lucy Trumbull

The ride offered an option to buy dinner Friday night, which always makes me happy. Whenever a ride offers me the chance to buy a meal, I do so, since that’s one less thing for me to cook/clean up after. They had really yummy smoked tri-tip (or chicken) and sides, and I’m a sucker for a good tri-tip.

Between dinner and ride meeting, we scuttled over to throw another layer of blankets on the horses. Desert rats (especially Beeba) weren’t too fond of the cold, so we ended up double-blanketing them most nights. Right about the time we were blanketing, everybody picked up and migrated from the outside dinner tables to inside the Ice House for the ride meeting, and we ended up packed in there tighter than sardines. (70 riders plus their crew and associated persons make for very crowded conditions…I actually want to come back on a non-anniversary year just to experience the “normal” ride conditions.)

21741106_231765140685061_2606824935247826429_o

Sardined riders. Yours truly is up against the wall, snuggled next to the stove pipe (no, it wasn’t lit) in the purple hoodie and pink/orange puffy jacket.

Briefing was highly entertaining – the NASTR club really knows how to have a good time and the pride and joy they have in their rides really shines through. We got a really good description of the trail, as well as tidbits and insight into good natural water sources that would be out there this year. Head vet Jamie Kerr got up and gave us our vet check parameters for the holds, as well as spent time reiterating the importance of hydration in our horses.

Major takeaway: 30 swallows = 1 gallon, so when you’re at a water source, count those swallows and know how much your horse is taking in. He emphasized this several times, and it is one of those tidbits that is now stuck in my brain. It was also really useful out there on the trail – there’s quite a bit of peace of mind that comes from the surety of knowing “my horse just drank a gallon and half at that stop” versus “well, I think they drank pretty well???”.

After the ride meeting was the Calcutta, which apparently auctions off riders and people bid on the riders finishing high up in their weight class. Or something like that. I was a little fuzzy on the details when it was explained to me ahead of time, and I didn’t stick around for it – I was way more interested in getting to bed early.

We checked the horses’ food and water for the night, then hustled off to bed; I’m pretty sure I actually managed to be in bed by 9. 3AM rolled around way too fast, but I actually managed some pretty good sleep for the night before a ride and was technically up before my alarm (which was set for 3:15).

I got dressed, got coffee made, and sat down and slowly tried to gag down a bit of breakfast. It was a relief to finally just get up and go out to tack up. As I was tacking up, Lucy came over to give me a hug and a bit of early morning moral support. Beeba was being a squirmy wiggle worm as usual for tacking up, so it was useful having an extra hand for a couple minutes. Lucy’s been a huge part of my endurance journey, especially towards 100-milers, so that quick morning visit meant a lot to me and was a huge morale booster. Ride nerves had started taking hold, and the specter of the ride start loomed large.

We did a quick “start weight” of the horses on the scale, then gathered together and started walking towards the start about 4:30. Andrea was mounted and Lily was being a saint. Kim and I were both hand-walking. A little ways out from camp, Kim swung up on Nort, but unfortunately I just don’t have “fast mounting” down as one of my appreciable skills, and I basically would have held the other two up waiting for me to gather myself together and get on…so I kept hand-walking.

Beeba was getting pretty prancey as we were walking – we were getting passed by other people, and she just wanted to walk out at her really fast flat walk…but that would have put her ahead of our other two, and the whole point was to try to keep Nort especially under wraps. So I kept getting more and more intimidated as Beeba kept getting more wound up. Finally Cristina offered to walk Beeba for me, and after a moment of warring with my pride and ego, I handed the mare over and dropped back to try to gather myself together. I was really stressed out at this point – crying because I couldn’t get it together, mad at myself for not being braver, and frustrated about how easily I transfer emotions to horses – I was turning a normally calm horse into a ball of nerves with my emotions, because as soon as I handed her over to Cristina, she started walking out calmly.

Kim’s husband Garry was a solid rock for me at that point. He hung back with me, talked me through my emotional fit, and got me calmed down and re-centered. By the time we reached Main Street, I was feeling much more put together, enough so that he and Cristina held Beeba and I was able to swing aboard. We did a couple walking circles, and then the ride started.

IMG_9653

Getting ready to mount up at the start.

We were towards the back of the pack, and everyone was calmly walking out of town. As soon as I mounted, Beeba had settled down, and she was happily walking out, just as curious as I was about this novel and unique ride start. I chattered to her, pointing out different historic sites and saloons, mostly as a way to keep myself calm (you have to breathe to be able to chatter). This was, hands down, the most unique ride start ever, and absolutely magical. With the roads closed down, and everything lit by the soft glow of streetlights, it’s not hard to imagine back a couple hundred years to miners and prospectors walking or riding these same streets, in front of these same buildings.

start vid 2

start vid 3

We walked a good part of the way through town, then turned off and dropped down a couple street levels to go past the cemetery and out onto the trail. This was what we had pre-ridden the previous day, so we able to pick up a slow trot. There were a few spots that had some trail wash-out and erosion, and management did a great job of marking the spots to avoid with blinking red hazard flashers.

We were a few miles in, starting to climb up to Sign Hill, when Andrea’s mare mis-stepped when passing from one trail track to another and stumbled, going to her knees and sending Andrea over her shoulder into the ditch in front of her. That’s always a scary moment when you have a rider off, in the dark, with horses behind you, in a trail area that has maybe 12” of passing space. Fortunately Lily is a saint who stood like a rock, Andrea was able to get back on, and we continued on our way.

The short climb up Sign Hill tops off at the highway, then drops down a steep embankment, and opens up onto a wide road (with dirt shoulder) that turns into a nice open dirt road. We made it down the embankment without incident (it’s steep enough to be potentially very *exciting* to a horse that’s a bit wound up) and once we hit the road, were finally able to let the horses really move out.  Beeba and I had our one and only “discussion” of the ride at this point, as she really wanted to move out, and I thought a dull roar was a bit more prudent, as it had lightened up just enough to see that the road did have some ruts and dips along the way.

She tossed her head, I growled at her. Another head toss, I made threats of a martingale for the future. It continued this way for the several miles we were on the road, but considering she wasn’t even trying too hard to dislocate my shoulders, I chalked it up as more of a minor annoyance than major problem.

We turned off the main road onto a wash that cut up to another road – “road” being a bit generous in definition, as it had a pretty impressive layer of rocks overlaying it. And so began the “hmm, if a hoof can fit in between the rocks, we should be trotting it” concept. This road took us up into the Virginia Highlands, and we wove through different streets and up and down some hills (got off to run a steeper downhill, discovered Beeba is a great running partner), past the volunteer fire station that’s kind of out in the middle of nowhere, and up and around the whole northern part of the Highlands.

I have no pictures through this section because the cold had zapped my phone — went to take pics and it was all “No Battery Life.” Lame. Zombie!Phone came back to life once it warmed up a bit, by mile 19, so I was able to get pics later.

A very nice homeowner had put out a trough in their front yard around mile 15, and the horses tanked up here while we gave very appreciative thanks to the homeowners, who were out spectating on their front porch. There had been water earlier (a trough at mile 4, plus a natural stream crossing about 10 miles in) but this was the first one Beeba decided was acceptable…and then she started tanking up at every water source from hereon after.

Got the scenic tour of more of the Highlands via dirt/gravel roads, and wound our way down to the highway crossing at 19 miles. There was another water trough there that we stopped at there before we did the trot-by, and Beeba started to drink well, only to be interrupted by a lady coming up and letting her horse barge in and snarl at everyone. Fortunately Beeba returned to drinking after the horse moved off, but that was a major annoyance.

Did our mounted trot-by, all were cleared to go, then we scuttled across the highway and headed down the Toll Rd, passing photographer Rene Baylor on the way. (The top pic was at this point as well.)

IMG_9693

photo by Gore-Baylor Photography

Once the road started descending (it’s about 2 miles down), I hopped off and started running with Beeba. Of course now that the sun was up, I quickly started warming up in my layers, so I pulled off probably one of my most impressive multi-tasking efforts to date. While still running, I managed to: hold the horse, remove my water pack, strip off my jacket, replace the water pack, and tie my jacket around my waist. All without falling or tripping.  The steeper or more rutted out parts of the road, we walked, but otherwise we were running. Beeba again proved to be a wonderful running partner, staying either right behind me or with her head at my shoulder, on a loose lead, matching her pace with mine.

img_9575.jpg

hoofing it down Toll Rd

Once the road leveled out a little bit, I hopped back on and we did the rest of the grade at a trot, making our way past the turnoff for Bailey Canyon (we’d be back here after the vet check), and into the residential area that would take us to the first vet check – a 45 minute hold at Kivett Lane.

Coming down Toll Rd; photos by Sanne Steele

This was the flattest trail we had seen for the last number of miles, and it felt really good to let the horses move out on flat ground at a good trot. There was a little creek running right through one of the streets, so all of the horses stopped and had a really good drink – perfect timing, not too far out from the check. Beeba and I ended up out in front through the residential area, and we had a few moments of “Arabian pinball” as we zigged and zagged past some spooky residential happenings…but I employed the “faster you go, the faster you get past the scary object” methodology, and we made really good time into the check.

It was a bit of an adrenaline rush coming into the check – that was probably the most intense 25 miles I had ridden, and during it, I felt very “in the zone” but coming into the vet check was definitely a “holy wow, what was that?” moment. It was really good to see smiling, friendly faces that I knew, and to get a few cheers and waves as I came in.

I took Beeba over to the trough to get a drink and get her pulsed. I had no idea where she was at – I basically knew “she pulses really well” from what Kim had told me ahead of time. The pulse checker had just started taking her pulse when Lily reached out across the water trough and bit Beeba right on the face. She was really startled, but all she did was jump in place – and she still pulsed in right at 60, even though the pulse-taker said she spiked right when he was pulsing her. (So who knows how low she was at that point? Ah, well, 60 was the parameter, that’s what we were at, so that’s all I cared about.)

Whisked her right over to the vet, where she proceed to stun all around her with a CRI score of 56/40. Yes, really. The same B’s on a couple of gut sounds, and A’s on everything else. Hopped over to the scale to get a quick weight, and then we made our way over to the crew area Garry had set up.

 

I am so not used to having a crew, so it was a major novelty to have the horse taken from me, and be pointed in the direction of food, drink, and a chair. I had done some good snacking and hydrating on the trail, so topped off my hydration pack, re-filled a water bottle, re-filled my snacks, and then sat down with breakfast.

We actually went into the ride with a small rub in front of Beeba’s girth – a small spot of pink skin that wasn’t in direct contact with the girth, and of unknown origin. But how would all of the downhill we were doing end up impacting it? So far, so good. Slathered it with more Cowboy Magic, rolled up her rump rug, attached a scoop and sponge to the saddle, electrolyted, and then it was time to mount up and head out, right on our out-time.

Back through the residential area, with a stop at the stream to drink again (despite tanking up well at the check…yay!), then re-traced our steps up to the Bailey Canyon turnoff.

IMG_9581

making our way to Bailey Canyon

I had heard stories and seen a few pictures of Bailey Canyon. I knew it was rocky. I knew it took an hour to get through whether you were fast or slow.

Well, I prepared myself for the worst, and was ready for an hour+ of misery. What I got was actually quite a bit of fun. I wasn’t too sure at the start of Bailey, when we did a bit of ribbon-to-ribbon navigating through rocks and sagebrush, then a very tricky drop into a stream crossing in order to get to the trail, but that was some of the worst of it, and we spent the next hour perfecting the art of walking the rocks, and trotting all 20’ of smooth trail.

If you’ve got a horse who just wants to go, I can see where this suck would suck. If they’re the kind that don’t watch their feet, and tend to do more spazzing and flailing than actually paying attention, I would hate this section. But I was on a mare with really smart footwork, who could “see” her own clear path through the rocks, and I just concentrated on stayed balanced and staying out of her way.

With three people riding together, it can be hard to practice traditional trail etiquette for these kind of scenarios. Normally, the polite thing to do is wait until all horses are clear of a rough area, then start trotting. But when the clear sections are so brief, by the time the last horse is clear, the first horse is in rocks again. So we employed the “trot whenever” strategy. Both Beeba and Lily are fine with being left when the horse in front of them trots off, so Kim and Nort set the pace out in front – they would hit a clear section and trot, then Andrea and Lily would trot when they reached it, and then Beeba and I, bringing up the rear, would trot when we were clear. This worked marvelously, and we made pretty good time through here once we figured that out.

The next section after Bailey had some good areas (comparatively speaking) to move out again. A couple longer downhills that were a good excuse to get off and walk/jog, and we wound our way through the mountains and down towards Washoe Lake, where our next vet check was waiting at 39 miles.

The couple miles of sagebrush flats into Washoe were a blast. Beeba and I led the way, blasting through the single-track at a speedy trot. She was a little spooky to start with, peeking at the sagebrush, or off in the distance at the irrigation wheels, but I just kept asking her for a bit more speed, and the faster we would go, the more focused on the trail she would get. This was one of those trails that really paid to have an athletic, compact, nimble horse, and I was laughing like a loon by the time we hit the Washoe Lake check.

IMG_9697

coming into Washoe; photo by Gore-Baylor Photogrpahy

There’s a 20-minute hold there at Washoe. Some time during that 20 minutes, you have to go see the vet for a full exam, but there’s no “gate into hold” where you have to pulse down before your time starts – they just have to be down to parameters by the time you go see the vet.

IMG_9654

entering the check; Beeba and I are both going “wah, why’d we have to stop trotting?”

Garry had a nice crew area set up for us again, so the horses were able to settle in and eat for a few minutes  while we topped off waters/snacks, then went over to the vet. Unfortunately, since we were at the back of the pack, they were down to only one vet, so to get all three of us vetted through took almost 15 minutes.

This check was probably Beeba’s lowest point; I didn’t get a photo of the vet card at this check, but from what I remember, her CRI was less phenomenal (52/52, I think?), I think she had a couple of B’s on the movement scores, and her trot-out was a little half-hearted.

We left the check probably about 10 minutes late; but at least the horses had a chance to eat while we were waiting. Only 11 miles into camp and a one-hour hold, but before that, we had to get through the SOBs (yes, it means what you probably think it means): three infamous, v-shaped pits of hell canyon things that you basically drop straight up, climb straight back up, die a little bit, climb down, climb up (only not as bad as the first time), die a little less, then meander down and back up a third time.

Oh, and there’s about a 4-mile climb to get to that point. Just keep climbing. Up, up, up. The views from the top are amazing. Beeba slowed down and asked for some bites of whatever grassy stuff was growing alongside the trail several times, but she never quit on me.

We stopped at the top of the first SOB, made appropriate “oh, #^%*” noises, then hopped off and started picking our way down. The footing was loose and rubbly, and I basically zig-zagged my way down. Beeba kept a safe distance back from me, and dutifully followed behind me, opportunistically grabbing grass whenever I paused to ponder my next move.

IMG_9608

SOB 1

Surviving the down is actually the easy part. The climb up is what really sucks. I thought I would “probably be okay” – after all, I did a 50k this spring with some massive hills, and had stayed in decent shape all summer. Well, those climbs might have been long, but they were nowhere near as steep as SOB1, which also featured really gnarly, loose, rocky footing.  Beeba knows how to tail, and we had even practiced it beforehand. What I didn’t count on was her ravenous appetite. I put her in front of me, clicked to her…and she walked up a couple feet and promptly darted off to the side of the trail and started grazing.

Well, this isn’t going to work. Part of a hill like this is momentum. Stopping every two feet wasn’t going to cut it. I also wasn’t going to be standing below her in this stop-n-start routine on a steep angle with crappy footing.

New plan. Time for a wagon train. Andrea, riding Lily, got in front. Kim tailed off Lily and lead Nort. I tailed off Nort and lead Beeba. Beeba trailed behind me, waiting for the opportune moment to dive for grass. And we managed to make it up the first SOB in this fashion. Paused at the top to remember how to breathe. (Did I mention this is also at  6500’ elevation?) Then continued downward on foot, slightly less treacherous of footing…and mounted up at the bottom.

IMG_9616

Tackling the second SOB

Sorry, Beeba, I gave you the first one, mare, but the next ones are on you. Maybe next time I’ll tackle the second one on foot as well, but I’m calling tailing the first SOB a pretty good deal for my first VC.

Past the SOBs, the trail is rocky (what else is new?) but levels out, so we were able to get in some decent trotting as we made our way past the reservoir and to the Jumbo Grade water stop. They have water trough, and hay, and mash, as well as cookies for the riders. We took a 5-minute cookie-and-mash break there, then we continued onward – only a few miles from camp.

The reservoir road/Ophir Grade is fairly flat, and pretty hard-packed, but the rocks aren’t as bad, so we hit that road and turned on the trotting afterburners. Nort and Lily both have a bigger trot than Beeba does (or at least than she prefers) so once we escalated past about 9mph, she kicked over into her wonderful rolling canter. It’s not fast, but it’s super fun and really easy to ride. Plus it’s exhilarating to know that at 49 miles in, the horse feels good enough to want to canter and is asking for more.

We came trotting off the grade, crossed the highway, and headed down the road into camp. Since the trailer was *right there* and it was a tack-off check, we grabbed our time slips, dumped tack at the trailer, then headed over to pulse and vet.

Again, I totally failed at taking a picture of my card, but I know she was improved from the Washoe check on everything and her trot-out was once again perky and cheerful and the vet said she looked good.

Then it was back to the trailer where she got a bucket of mash, and I put some ice boots on her front legs while I ducked inside and grabbed some food for myself. I was kind of disorganized in terms of food for myself here; I wasn’t sure what I wanted, I felt a bit frazzled because we were running way later on time than what I had planned, and didn’t quite know what I needed to do at this point.

IMG_9622

Stuffing in whatever she could find during the one-hour vet hold at Ice House

I also knew we would be out in the dark for part of the loop, so partially changed clothes into a couple warmer top layers, plus added my jacket back on to the saddle.

With 15 minutes or so until out time, I pulled Beeba’s ice wraps off and started tacking up again. I was fully expecting dirty looks at this point, since she’s never done more than 50 miles, and here we were at 50 miles, untacked and eating, legs iced…surely she was done? To my surprise, I got a polite “hmmm, whatcha doing?” ear tip in my direction, and she kept on steadily munching through her hay as I slung the saddle back on and got everything ready to go.

Kim was doing some reinforcement work on Nort’s boots during the check in the form of adding Sikaflex for extra padding and hold (her glue-ons had been eaten by the trail along the way, and by the Washoe check, Nort was wearing all of his spare Gloves), so it took a couple extra minutes to wrap that up, and we were out 5 minutes after our out-time.

Beeba quite happily moseyed over to the out-timer and meandered her way out to the trail –this time, we were heading out of the back of camp and would return through town. She wasn’t in a major hurry at this point, but she also wasn’t arguing the idea of going out again.

We picked our way down the hill out of camp, down another embankment, over a set of railroad tracks, and down a single-track that took us through a little canyon. It was a fun little section of technical trail…a section I had been told was probably worth hand-walking, but we were sneaking in little trot sections whenever it was at all possible, so I think we made better time staying in the saddle on this particular occasion.

Once clear of the canyon, a couple miles out of camp, there was another water trough waiting…horses drank, then we crossed the highway again, and started winding around through a mining area. Some of the building were really old and abandoned, but there were other spots that still had some kind of activity going on. (At one point there was some kind of large water holding tank/mini reservoir that was doing something that involved a couple large jets of water spraying into the tank, which earned some serious “What the heck?!?” looks from Beeba…but she was a good girl and kept on trotting by, even as she gawped at it.)

This section was kind of fun in that it meandered around…down some dirt roads, through a creek, up some hills, down another long, rocky downhill. We were chasing the sun now, trying to get as far as we could into this loop before we lost the light. The trail was marked with glowsticks starting at the Jumbo Grade stop, but getting to that point would only be ribbons and lime blobs on the ground. We really hustled through parts of this section, and it was an absolute blast trotting and cantering down some of the dirt roads, everything around us getting darker by the minute.

There were a couple more train track crossings we went over, then veered off the large dirt road we had been on and onto another single-track through a section known as “mini Bailey Canyon.” It’s not as long, only a couple miles, but we were in total darkness at this point. For what I’ve been told, maybe it was better I couldn’t see the trail? The most disconcerting part was were couldn’t sure 100% sure we were on the trail, although it was one of those places that would be hard to get off the trail since there was nowhere else to go. We managed to spot a couple ribbons along the way (orange ribbons are hard to see with red headlamps), and eventually we went up a short, steep climb, and there were more ribbons and lime blobs at the top, directing us down another road. We passed below the same reservoir we had gone by on loop 1 on the way to the Jumbo Grade stop, and stayed on a road that paralleled the earlier trail from earlier.

I think the hardest part here was how dark it was, and unfortunately, any kind of lights (headlamps or glowsticks) from any of us were having a very adverse effect on Kim and making her really nauseous. So it was hard to tell what exactly on this road was trottable, and how much of it was rocky and would be better off walking. Fortunately it wasn’t too long until we reached the Jumbo water stop again, with more water, hay, and mash. We only stayed here for a few minutes, though, as the wind had picked up, and it was getting cold, so standing around didn’t sound like a great option.

As promised, the glowsticks marked the way, and we could see them winding their way up the Mt Davidson climb. This was another section I had been warned about. It’s several miles of climbing, with a few spots here and there where it levels out, then gradually climbs again. Nothing particularly steep, but just long, steady climbs. We trotted here and there when we could, but for the most part, just moved along at a nice walk. I was also getting chilly at this point, despite my 3 layers, so reached behind me and rummaged through the saddle pack (Beeba just kept trucking along, reins on her neck while I was doing this) for my super light wind shell. It’s one of those super-packable, featherweight shells that blocks wind and will temporarily block rain – a glorified garbage bag with pretty designs, basically. But that thing actually did the job and blocked enough of the wind so that I stayed a lot more comfortable.

Periodically Beeba would drift over and snatch a bite or two of dried grass from alongside the trail, but she just kept trucking up the hill. Eventually we reached what I presume was the top, or near to it, and could look out over the city lights of Reno. There were a few areas where we were able to trot a bit, and then we started descending.

Gotta say, this was my least favorite part of the whole ride: the descent off Mt Davidson. There were a series of short, steep downhills, with some washed-out, technical spots – lots of red caution flashers. It was really slow-going, and there were a few moments where I wasn’t having a whole lot of fun. The city lights in the distance were a little disorienting as well – it was *so* dark on the trail, but then the lights were bright enough in my peripheral vision to affect my night vision, so that made it seem even darker. I just wanted to get through this section as quick as possible, but a lot of the trail really didn’t lend itself well to that, and once we were clear of the technical stuff and back out onto dirt roads, we were really far behind on time and pretty much resigned to the fact we wouldn’t end up making time.

We crossed the highway yet another time (vehicle headlights are the worst; someone please tell me why there are vehicles out at 11:30 at night?), made our way through some more quiet semi-residential streets, and onto a section of trail that would connect us up to Sign Hill and the shared trail from the morning.

Beeba and I were leading through a lot of this section, and I had some really strange hallucinations start to kick in. I was a bit disoriented from the headlights in the distance, and while it wasn’t making me sick, it definitely felt a bit weird. Plus I was getting sleepy, and still cold, and my brain really started playing tricks on me. I kept imagining we were crossing a giant land bridge (just a lighter-colored section of dirt), and there were towering rock sculptures next to us (just a tree).

And then I had one of those “bad human judgment” moments. I saw one glow stick, and rather than look for the next one, just reined Beeba over to where I assumed the trail was. Mistake. All of a sudden she dropped out from under me and when I clicked on my headlamp, I could see we were standing in a rough ditch, a couple feet deep, with embankments on each side and no clear way out except to keep going up the short slope we were on. So that’s what I did, and topped out on a flat area – where there were glowsticks. Hindsight, I should have just stayed there – turns out the trail just went *around* the little ditch/hillock thing I had just blundered through, and up onto the rise where we were standing now. But Kim and Andrea were still below us, and they couldn’t see the next glowstick, so I made my second mis-judgment and went back down the ditch to re-join them and find the actual trail.

Which wouldn’t have been so bad except I was gripped with a sudden need to *see* what I was doing, so turned on the white light headlamp option. Big, big mistake. Beeba was not happy, and she tripped and stumbled her way back down the ditch and rough footing. I immediately turned the light off, and she settled right down, picked her way over to the actual trail, we found the next glowstick, and continued on our way. She started taking charge a little more after that, tugging the reins from me and making her own decisions about where the trail went, since clearly the idiot human couldn’t be trusted.

Heading back down Sign Hill we were running into a lot of traffic of riders heading back out on their third loop. Made me a little sad since I knew we were so far overtime at this point, there was no way we were heading out…and I had a niggle in the back of my mind that Beeba also wasn’t 100%. She was a bit tentative on the downhills, and the trot was feeling a little crunchy. She was still walking out at this smooth, gliding walk, and still very much an energizer bunny, even “parade horse” prancing in place when we briefly stopped along the trail.

Crossing the chalk line at the cemetery was a bit bittersweet, since I knew we wouldn’t be crossing it a second time as the finish line. I was cold and tired, but also knew myself well enough to know that a change of clothes and hot meal would be been very restorative, and I fully believe I could have gone out on that third loop if we had the time.

Walking through town was peaceful and quiet – we were on the backside of all of the Main Street businesses, and the same horse that had been all wound up and dancing through the streets Friday afternoon was now calmly striding out on a loose rein, confidently making her way back to camp.

Garry met us at the entrance to camp with the tack cart and blankets, so we stripped tack off and dumped it in the cart, then immediately went over to the vet. Yes, we were way overtime – it was just past midnight when we got back to camp, and suggested cutoff time was 11. And sure enough, my suspicions were confirmed on Beeba’s trot-out – she was off on the right hind. Pretty sure I know the culprit – she had tried to do the “two feet occupying the same 4 square inches of space” trick back in Wildcat Canyon (between Bailey Canyon and Washoe) and the right hoof had slipped and she had knuckled over at the fetlock.

We took the horses back to the trailer, bundled them up in blankets, tugged a pair of the Equiflex “sleeves” on Beeba’s front legs, made sure they had plenty of hay and water, then retreated to the trailer. I was still cold, and hungry, so heated up water and made a quick cup of ramen noodles. The hot broth/noodles warmed me up, and with filthy clothes exchanged for warm pajamas, fell into bed and was out…until about 7am when the sun was up and I was no longer able to stay asleep. Facebook got a quick updating of how the rest of the day had gone down:

Well, ultimately the stars weren’t quite in alignment for us yesterday and we were pulled at the 76-mile point…a combo of being both overtime and Beeba was off on the right hind at the trot.

Still, can’t complain…that red mare poured her heart out for me all day long over some incredible and challenging trail. This was the longest either of us have gone before, and she headed out of camp for that second loop after 50 miles without any fuss or question. She was an energizer bunny all day, steadily eating up the miles, and eating and drinking amazingly well.

And me? More 75s and 100s, please! There’s something special about these longer distances and I can’t wait to do more of them.

Much more later…this was an incredible ride and I’m glad to have had the chance to start it this year. The VC magic got its hooks in me and you can be sure I’ll return for another go at it!

Once Kim was up, we took the horses for a walk up the street a little bit – Beeba was a little stiff on the right hind, maybe a grade 1.5 at the trot, but moving well at the walk and already looking way better than she had a mere 8 hours prior.

Once the horses were taken care of, I had the chance to grab a shower, then went  wandering around camp, clutching my coffee, in search of friends who might also be awake. I eventually found Lucy, and spent some time talking with and confiding in her – this was my one “emotional overwhelm” moment that had me a little weepy – various little stresses, disappointment about not finishing, and still a bit overly tired all combined , but once I got that out of my system, that was it, and I’ve actually been pretty darn cheerful about the whole endeavor in the aftermath.

Sunday morning breakfast was part of the ride entry – great spread of eggs, potatoes, and steak. I gobbled up breakfast, then went over to grab my ride photos from Rene Baylor. He got some really great shots that captured so much of the joy and excitement I had in those moments along the way.

Parts of the awards ceremony included plaques given out to those who participated in the research study with their horses, so we didn’t come home completely empty-handed, either!

IMG_9684

We also managed a quick trip into town for ice cream at one of the local shops…I managed to get my hands on a huckleberry cone, which is an almost unheard-of flavor. Yum.

Sunday afternoon, it was amazing how fast camp wrapped up and people headed out, to the point where there were just three rigs left in camp.

Sunday night we went into town for dinner – found a really fun Mexican restaurant that served some really good food with generous portions (enough that half of my jumbo burrito got boxed up and eaten for lunch the next day). Part of the fun of the ride is having town right there, which makes for a more entertaining experience for crew people or family members who may not be endurance riders. There are even hotels in walking distance from basecamp.

We had most of camp packed up on Sunday, so Monday morning, it was straightforward enough to pack up the last few remaining items, clean up the area, get the horses loaded, and hit the road. We had easy travelling (including seeing big horn sheep at Walker Lake), made a quick lunch stop at Tonopah where we let the horses out in the arena to stretch and roll while we ate, then loaded up again and pushed onward to Las Vegas, where we overnighted at Cathy’s place.

It was great to see Cathy again, and re-connect with Dean, my little Tevis Ed Ride pony. We all went out for dinner that night, and after dinner, did as endurance riders do – play around with saddle fit and hoof boots. Beeba got to spend the night out in Cathy’s round pen, which meant she did some really good moving around, and all of her legs were cool and tight (she’d been harboring a little bit of puffiness, especially on the hinds, after trailering) by morning.

Tuesday morning, we headed out bright and early – on the road by 7, managed to hit Vegas rush hour, then it was smooth sailing the whole way home – a brief stop in Kingman for gas, and a pause in Wickenburg to water the horses, and then we were home early afternoon. Got the trailer all unloaded, Garry helped me remove Beeba’s boots, got all my stuff shoved back into my truck, and managed to make it back home by 2:30ish.

IMG_9668

Still talking to me — unloaded at home, turned her out for a drink and roll, then had to retrieve her to pull boots. And she came right over.

Beeba was totally sound by the time we got home, and the horses are getting a few weeks of well-deserved rest. I absolutely want to go back and try again – I am hooked on the idea of 75s and 100s. The trail itself was a good challenge, and the ride was impeccably managed. I’ve got a laundry list going of “takeaways, lessons learned and what to do next time” so I’m hoping I’ll get a chance to implement it.

I’ve got a couple more posts coming that’ll detail out gear, plus go into more detail about boots and gluing.

Happy trails for the rest of the 2017 ride season!

 

Whirlwinds of March

I know the whole “In like a lion, out like a lamb” saying that applies to the month of March, but there has been nothing meek and mild about my schedule this March. Actually, 2017 has started off strong and just keeps gaining in momentum.

IMG_8051.JPG

view from 7100′ at the top of Mt Ord on a training run

After logging some great training runs in January and February, March handed me back-to-back travel weekends for work. One planned way out, one very last minute.

The last-minute trip was the first weekend of March, when I was offered the chance to go be the Renegade rep at the FITS (Fun in the Sun) endurance ride in Florida, hosted by Valerie Kanavy at her Florida farm.

That was an absolutely amazing weekend. I learned a ton, provided some good exposure for Renegade, was on-hand for customer service needs, and picked up a number of valuable tips and tricks for riding, training, and crewing. Valerie was a wonderful host and I very much enjoyed getting the chance to talk with her and spend the time at her farm.

Once I got back from Florida, I had just a couple of days to unpack and repack before turning around and heading back to the airport, this time to Dallas, TX, for the annual AERC Convention. This was my fifth time attending convention, and I had an absolute blast. Running the Renegade booth went really smoothly, the venue was really nice, and I got in some really good socializing and networking.

This was my first time spending any significant amount of time in TX (overnighting at a horse motel in Amarillo on a road trip 19 years ago hardly counts) and I was really surprised by the amount of water and vegetation in the Dallas area. Would have loved to spend more time there and explore the areas some more, but I was able to get out Friday evening for some excellent BBQ!

IMG_8266

March isn’t done with me yet…while I’m at home this weekend, I’m still working, this time doing the in-home catering for one of Mom’s memory art workshops. (A bit of a scheduling bummer, as I had several catch ride offers for Old Pueblo…but there’s something to be said about jumping on the opportunity to make $$$…see RP saddle caption above about the Money Tree.)

I want to slot at least one more good, double-digit training run in this weekend (Sunday), and then it’ll be the downward “just maintain and don’t do anything crazy” taper leading up to Crown King 50k on April 1.

Ride Story: Wickenburg’s Land of the Sun 25 2016

I apologize for the complete lack of brevity in the regaling of this tale. It truly turned into one of those Milestone Rides for us, and I’m trying to capture every moment of it.

Getting the Wickenburg ride to come back has been an event several years in the making — the last time it was held was the last time I rode it, back in 2010. It came back under new management, and a new ridecamp location (the fabulous Boyd Ranch, which is totally worth the 8-mile drive on rutted dirt roads to get back to it)…but like all new, or essentially new, ride, there tend to be some kinks to work out, and you know going in to a first-time ride that you as the rider are going to be something of a guinea pig.

At this particular ride, it was the trail itself that would prove to be the greatest challenge and need the most ironing out — very technical, with a lot of rocks, climbing, and deep sand, with not enough areas to safely move out to balance it out and be able to make up time. Ultimately, we came in overtime, but the fact that we unexpectedly ended up going it alone for most of the ride — the first time Liberty has done that — I was really happy with the outcome, and it was the absolute best learning and training experience I could have hoped for.

Wickenburg is a “local” ride for me — only about 2 hours away, including the last 8 miles of really rough, washboard dirt road that can take about 30 minutes alone if you’re hauling a trailer. (The road should have served as a preview of the terrain that was to come…)

Kirt and Gina were only about 10 minutes behind me, so I secured a good spot in camp (on the outskirts, but we had room to spread out and set up the electric pens). They had brought the usual suspects of my Liberty, Yankee for Gina, and Wicked (the big grey mare who is Liberty’s pasture-mate…it’s good for her to get the trailering and camping exposure…and good “oh, yes, you will leave your BFF” training for Liberty…)

IMG_5811

ponies in pens…Liberty, Wicked, Yankee

While Kirt set up the pens, Gina and I went and checked in and grabbed our ride packets, then pulled horses out and gave them a thorough brushing before heading over to vet in. (Shedding season…I scraped quite a bit of hair off Libby.)

IMG_5814

hydrating before vetting

I’ll be the first to say it: Liberty was a brat for vetting. She was fussy about letting the vet look at her mouth (although she did stand nicely for getting her temperature taken), her pulse was a little high (44) since she was excited over leaving Wicked back at the trailer, and then she had to trod on my foot during our trot-out (trail running and endurance riding: Toenails Optional), which earned her an impromptu schooling session (and a second trot-out). Still needs some more work in the Manners Department.

IMG_5827

The predicted forecast was going to be warm: 83°, and while I wished for clippers, I settled for mane braiding on both Liberty and Yankee. Their hooves needed a bit of attention, so they each got a trim, I checked boot fit and did some adjusting (even with a trim, I wasn’t loving how the Classic shells fit her…keep this in mind for later…), and then gathered tack together for the morning.

I haven’t been happy with how the Duett has worked, or rather, not worked, on her, since she’s been sore in the loins every time, even with three different saddle pads. Irony: All of the horses I’ve catch-ridden, she’s been the only one it hasn’t worked on. Fortunately, Gina had a spare saddle I could try: a Frank Baines Reflex dressage saddle, fully kitted out with all the necessary rings and such for endurance. I put it on the saddle stand, sat my own butt in it and determined it felt good enough to at least start the ride in (could always switch at lunch if need be), and then checked the fit on Liberty. I liked how it sat on her, and there’s a little more rock in the tree than the Duett, which is where I think I was running into problems. Also: She’s a tank. The tree is the 4W, which is the widest tree they offer in that particular model. It’s also a monoflap, and substantially lighter than my ridiculously-heavy Duett.

I also electrolyted Liberty and Yankee at this point, knowing the next day was going to be warm. Liberty hates syringes and electrolytes (oh, yay, another one…) so there was Drama and head flinging and electrolytes splattered everywhere…but we eventually got it done…and Yankee was a good boy and took his without complaint.

One of the perks offered at this ride was dinner on both Friday and Saturday night, so around 5ish, we wandered down to the pavilion where management and volunteers had an appetizer spread ready while the dinner of beans, several kinds of pulled pork, coleslaw, and tortillas were being set out.

Ride meeting was really brief — pretty sure there were still people trickling in as the meeting was wrapping up — although it covered the salient points: “Follow these color ribbons on these loops, watch for the chalk arrows/lines/numbers on the ground, when in doubt read your maps with trail descriptions, hold times and pulse parameters are ‘x’ and ‘x’.” (I’m not a fan of long ride meetings, so I appreciated the brevity.)

It was nice to have had enough time in the afternoon to get everything I needed to done, so the evening was relaxing, and I even managed to get to bed in decent time, aided by my new BFF, a tab of melatonin, which helps with my “first-night-in-new-place-plus-pre-ride-jitters” restlessness. I give myself plenty of time (2+ hours before the start) on ride mornings to slowly wake up, dress, make coffee, force myself to nibble on something (green juice smoothie, poptart, banana), then boot/tack up.

IMG_5826

tacked up and almost ready to go…just need bridles

We were tacked up and ready to go by the time the 50s started, but both Yankee and Liberty were fairly “up” so I took a few minutes to have Liberty walk/slow trot some circles around me and get her brain re-focused before I mounted. She had some moments of wanting to twirl around and head back to the trailer while we were walking over to the start, so I did a lot of walking, and circles, and making her pay attention to me, before we headed over to check in at the start line.

photo 4 (4)

antsy-pants displaying her favorite indiscretion: pawing

I made one mistake, and I realized it as soon as we started: I had swapped the solid curb strap back to the one with the chain (why???) and I knew immediately it was too much for her, as she tucked her head extremely behind the vertical and got very fussy. *sigh* Too late to change now…but it meant I had to be extremely conscious of how much contact I was using (not as much as I prefer, especially at a ride start). Fortunately, she was much better behaved this time, only hopping a couple of times over the whole passing/being passed thing and then really settling in after the first mile or so (versus the first 6 miles at Bumble Bee). She really does get better and more mature with every ride.

photo 3 (6)

walking over to the start…so excellently matchy-matchy

photo 1 (12)

heading out at the start…oh, look, it’s part giraffe.

We were sitting about middle of the pack for the first couple of miles, but then the trail quickly turned into deep, uphill sand wash…which neither Yankee or Liberty are legged up for doing much by way of speed work in. So we walked. And people passed us. And we walked some more. We hit some nicer sections of double-track road where we were able to move out…but neither Liberty nor Yankee were feeling particularly like being the Brave Leader, so did a lot of yo-yoing back and forth where one would surge ahead, then the other…it was like riding equine bumper cars.

It was during one of these trotting sections in a not-as-deep sand wash that Liberty started doing a mild-but-consistent head bob on her left front. (Remember, it was her RH she was off on at Bumble Bee.) Uggghhhh. Gina noticed that her boots had accumulated quite a bit of sand, even some small rocks jammed down in the front toe flap, pushing the shell forward and creating the same effect on the captivator as over-tightening the cables would do — pressure on the bulbs and somewhat limiting the movement of the captivator. Apparently I’ve got two horses that are “particular” about their preferred model of boot/captivator.

I pulled the offending boot off, climbed back on…and she trotted off sound. Riiiiggggghhhhtttt…memo to self: “Viper shells and captivators only on this horse from now on.”

Shortly after this point, we pulled off the trail to let a couple of people pass us, and as the last horse passed by, she kicked out and nailed Yankee right in the chest! Seriously?!? What next?!?

Fortunately, Yankee seemed fine, but we took our time, just to make sure — because of course right after this we would be leaving the wash and heading up some very rocky, technical climbs. After climbing out of the wash, there was a water stop/number check. Neither horse drank here, although Liberty drank a little bit at the first water stop (~3 miles in).

Heading out from the water stop, I managed to get Liberty to stay in front for more than twenty feet of trotting…and then all of a sudden she bobbled and started three-legged hopping, kicking out with her right hind leg. I immediately jumped off, and as far as we could tell, it looked like Yankee had crowded her from behind and possibly stepped on her hind boot. Again, this was her “off at Bumble Bee” leg, so I don’t know if it could have been something to do with the weird split that had developed between her frog and bulb (best we could tell at BB, a rock got under her captivator), or what was going on.

So now her hind boots got removed, and I was going to take her totally barefoot. (At the speeds we were going, that was hardly my biggest concern. She also has amazing, rock-crushing hooves from growing up in the desert and running on acreage her entire life.) I hand-walked her for a bit, probably about half a mile, just to make sure she was okay, before climbing back on.

Just when you think, “okay, we’re in the clear, right?”…Gina and Yankee are leading, heading up another technical, very rocky and steep climb that involves cutting a sharp right and then left to stay on the trail and out of the worst of the rocks. Only Yankee doesn’t cut right, but tries to just go left, over-corrects, does a “four legs in eight directions” flail, gathers himself up enough to get back on the trail…and then does it again. Liberty isn’t fazed by any of this, but when we get to the top of the hill, Yankee is off on one of his front legs. Nothing obvious, but he’s ouchy.

So we get off and start hand-walking again. Yankee isn’t improving, so Gina tells me “get back on and keep going, you don’t need to stay with me.”

Easier said than done, since Liberty has had very little solo training time, and never at a ride. Well, what’s a ride other than on-the-job training, right?

I got Liberty trotting away, but every time we would get out of eyesight of Yankee, she would slam to a stop and wait until she could see him again, then get moving. Needless to say, we were not making great progress until we hit a spot of shared trail with the 50s, and I was able to catch a tow from a couple of friends, enough to get us moving and for Liberty to realize “not alone out here. Maybe not going to die.” (Thanks, Cathy and Elaine, for letting me tag along!)

The shared trail split off at that point, but we had gotten far enough ahead of Yankee that Liberty was rolling along nicely…and the internal compass was pointed “due camp.” Photographers John and Sue Kordish were set up along this loop, and for the first time, Libby didn’t even pause to stare at them…so I got some nice trotting action photos of us!

2016-Wickenburg-0779

photo: Susan Kordish/Cowgirl Photography 

2016-Wickenburg-0775

photo: Susan Kordish/Cowgirl Photography 

Shortly after passing Sue, the trail opened up to this fairly smooth, wide, level dirt road…and I got to do something I’ve been dying to do…canter Liberty. In the past, I’ve been tempted, but have held back, not wanting her to learn too early on that canter was an acceptable option, especially during the start and early-on ride excitement. I am also not brave when it comes to cantering new/strange horses…it is the gait where I feel the least secure and comfortable, like I can be all-too-easily off-loaded if they spook or buck…but now, the timing felt right.

2016-Wickenburg-0780

photo: Susan Kordish/Cowgirl Photography

Fortunately, she has apparently been trained in the standard canter cue (sit, kiss, little bit of rein, use one heel to cue) and moved right into this lovely, rolling canter.

*cue heavenly choir of angels singing*

She has one of the most wonderful canters I’ve ridden. Smooth, powerful, efficient…and perfectly controllable. And completely business-like — it was like she just locked onto the trail and had no interest in anything other than steadily moving forward. I have a feeling I will be working her up to this and utilizing it to great effect in the future.

We cantered for probably less than a quarter mile, then I broke her down to a trot to navigate through some rough areas, and then when the trail spit us onto the big dirt road leading to camp, I got one more canter in. (Super pleased with how responsive she was…and it didn’t make her rushy or at all race-brained to be allowed to move out…she came right back to a trot and walk as soon as I asked.)

So I basically power-trotted and cantered the last mile into camp, and hopped off right at the gate and hand-walked in the last 100′ or so to the in-timer. (Y’know…”how to bring a horse in nice-n-easy for pulsing down…”) I let her drink while I sponged her, and then she insisted on being allowed to munch on some of the alfalfa and bran mash that was sitting right there…so by the time I got her sponged and she got her initial munchies fulfilled, it took 5 minutes to pulse. I had the volunteer check her right when we came in and she was up at 80, then dropped to 70, hung there for a minute…and then when she checked her again a minute later, she had dropped to 52. (Criteria was 60, I believe. Or 64. Maybe 64 was the finish?)

She vetted out with all As — and was better behaved this time, although she still didn’t like the vet messing with her mouth. Her trot-out was excellent and she stayed right with me and didn’t use my feet for target practice.

Back at the trailer, I was surprised to see the corral was empty, and figured Kirt was maybe taking Wicked out for a walk around camp to keep her from missing her buddies. Well, I was partially right…he ended up saddling her up and taking her out on the fun ride! (Which was the same trail as loop 1 of the LD.) So Liberty had to stand at the trailer, all by herself, and alternate between drinking, eating, pawing, and screaming for her lost BFF. (And the learning experiences just keep on coming.)

I got her a bucket of water and flake of alfalfa, sponged a little more of the sweat off of her, and left her to her own devices for a little bit while I refilled my water pack, used the bathroom, and grabbed some lunch for myself. I took a couple of minutes of downtime to send a quick text update to friends/family, then got back to work: swapping out the curb strap on the hackamore, fishing my riding crop out (I knew we would need the  extra encouragement if we were going to do the second loop all by ourselves), and re-booting her with Vipers on her fronts.

Gina got back with Yankee partway through my hold — the vet had taken a look and hadn’t found anything on his leg that would indicate tendon or ligament involvement, so it was likely that he probably tweaked something in his fetlock area. Gina said the vet had pulled a large, inch-long thorn out of Yankee’s leg as well (probably from a crucifixion thorn bush, fairly common to the area, with thorns that are larger/sturdier than cactus spines).

Liberty was good about walking away from camp — we had about 3 minutes to wait at the out-timer, and she did some circling and calling at that point, but with a little “hand on the halter and point in the right direction” assist from Gina, we got out on the trail — trotted out of camp, woohoo!! Which lasted all of 100 yards before we saw 50s coming in from one of their loops, and she had to stop, scream, and try to go with them. A couple of solid whacks with the crop got her persuaded that listening to me was the better idea, and he headed out on Loop 2A. There were more parts in this loop where we were able to move out — nice single-track running atop ridgelines — and then more technical climbs in and out of some big washes.

Towards the end of this loop, we encountered Kirt and Wicked on a section of shared trail. What are the odds, right? Of course, neither mare wanted to separate from the other, so we both ended up jumping off and walking our recalcitrant mares away from each other down our respective trails. I ended up having to hand-walk Liberty for about half a mile before she stopped her screaming and twirling (with several “discussions” along the way about respecting personal space) and I was able to get back on and keep jamming down the trail.

To pick up the second part of the loop (Loop 2B) we had to cross in front of the ranch — more fun convincing the big mare that we were *not* going down the same in-trail we had earlier. Once I got her un-stuck and past that point, we swung by the water trough that was out and she drank well — impressive for her still being mentally keyed up and wanting to join her buddies — and then started into the second part of the loop.

We passed photographer Sue again, and then almost immediately, a cluster of 50s come up on us. Very good news for us: It was Stephanie DuRoss and her group, and they didn’t have any problem with me falling in with them and catching a tow for the next several miles of shared trail. (Thank you, Taylor, Steph, and Kecia!) Another excellent learning experience: Liberty had to be the caboose in a train of strange horses that she didn’t know, and had to choose to either act like a grown up and follow them, or end up on her own again (remember her “omg, stange horses, I must bounce up and down and act like I don’t know what another horse is” antics from Bumble Bee?). She decided that New Friends were a very good thing indeed and it was a sad time when our shared trails parted ways and we had to go forth on our own yet again.

2016-Wickenburg-0894

photo Susan Kordish/Cowgirl Photography 

We did some pretty good climbing, basically cross-country, and I’d coax a bit of a trot out of her on smooth sections here and there, but basically we walked. At about 2.8-3mph. Speed demons, us. ;) I also started singing at this point as a way to keep both of our spirits up…it’s a good thing we were alone, since I’m not exactly musically gifted.

Eventually the single-track spit us down and around into a large wash, but shallower and running slightly downhill, so we were able to get into a pretty good trot rhythm. I have pretty good navigational and “point of reckoning” skills, and I knew camp was basically on the other side of the hills we were winding our way through…so when we came upon one of the number checkers, I asked how far we were from camp…”oh, probably another 45 minutes to an hour.”

KODAK Digital Still Camera

so much sand wash

Oh. So much for the hope that the ride would “measure short” and we were just around the corner from being done.

We had about 20 minutes left on the clock as this point, so I knew we weren’t going to make it, time-wise…which totally took the pressure off. Sure, we weren’t going to finish in time, but we were going to stay out there and finish the course.

Once out of the washes, we went through a really pretty section of single-track that wound through some trees and grass before spitting us out into a big open flat field with the single-track cutting straight through it, leading to the next water stop. It was here that Liberty had her one big spook of the whole ride…at a century plant next to the trail. She did a pretty impressive sideways spook with about a quarter of a spin…enough to just slightly unseat me, but a handful of mane braids (and the fact she stopped) kept me in place, she got a boot in the side for her troubles, and we proceeded onward to the water tank.

It was a Super Scary water stop, with a windmill and shed and lots of stuff right around the trough, but she stopped and really tanked up. There’s a rough formula of ~30 swallows = 1 gallon (give or take, depending on horse size and gulp capacity), so just for fun, I counted her swallows…ended up being right around 50 swallows, so she had almost 2 gallons in one go! Gooooooood mare! (She is really good at EDPP on trail…very self-preserving and takes care of herself and her rider. That right there is solid gold.)

We had to “tiptoe” past the old building and wooden corrals, and then I let her walk for a few minutes after her large drink. Finally, finally, the trail turned back towards camp, and we got some more forward motivation…that lasted until we encountered the Dead Barrel Cactus of Doom laying right next to the trail. Since we were surrounded by cholla, and there was no good “go around” option, we stood there quietly until she inched her way past it, step by step. After that, we kind of hit our wall, as the trail was very twisty and turny, rocky, and lined with enough cholla that trotting didn’t seem like an  inviting option.

So we walked. And we walked. And we walked some more. I worked my way through a pack of Clif energy ShotBlocks and drained the rest of my water pack. A few short trot bursts through sand and some flatter stuff, but more up and down cross-country rocky stuff, now heading away from camp…and then crossing a bit of trail from the morning…and more up-down-rocks…and then back on shared trail from loop 2A. Shared trail + directly heading towards camp = motivated trot, and we trotted the last mile or so back in to camp.

KODAK Digital Still Camera

out trudging on our own…

We were so overtime (by about an hour) but I still treated our finish like we were still in the game: come in, let her drink and eat while I pulled her saddle and sponged her down, and got her pulse (pulsed down to 60 in just a couple of minutes, impressive with it being as warm as it was, and her being a dark, still-fluffy, large-bodied horse), and then took her over to vet out.

2016-Wickenburg-1198

photo Susan Kordish/Cowgirl Photography

She finished with all As (still didn’t like the vet handling her mouth, *sigh*) and a lovely trot-out, and then she got to chow down on the lovely bran mash + carrots provided by the ride for a few minutes while I sponged her off a little more (and then flopped the saddle back on her, since we were parked a ways away and it’s still not *that* light) and then we headed back to the trailer.

IMG_5828

vet card: lunch check and finish

She got to rejoin her BFF in their corral, I committed the grave crime of electrolyting her again, and then afterwards, I flopped down on a lounge chair with a water bottle in one hand, cold beer in the other, and plenty of snacks, and regaled Kirt and  Gina with our Tales of Being On Our Own and Not Dying. After the beer ran out and I’d put a dent in the food supply, I headed over to the ranch bathrooms where they have lovely permanent showers. (Living quarters are really nice, but the perk of permanent bathrooms at a facility is you don’t have to worry about draining the water tank or running out of hot water, so if they’re there, I will use them.) I washed a ton of trail dust and sweat off, changed into fresh, clean clothes, and headed back to the trailer for a bit before ride dinner.

IMG_5829

post-ride consumption of the food and water

I really have to give a nod to ride management at this ride. They provided some excellent perks, including dinner both nights, the volunteers were friendly and helpful, the trail markings were fabulous…it was just the trail itself that wasn’t entirely practical for endurance competition purposes, and management has already expressed a desire to take into account any constructive feedback and use that for the betterment of the trails for next year. (And kudos to the ride attendees: Everyone I have talked to or have seen feedback from has remained polite, courteous, and provided appropriate constructive criticism, versus just complaining and bitching. So good job, all around.)

That grilled hamburger dinner tasted delicious (and I really liked not having to cook), and it looked like a decent number of people stayed around for dinner/awards. We had planned from the beginning to stay Saturday night, so we had time to socialize and catch up with people before retiring back to the trailer for hot chocolate and cookies, and eventually bed.

I crashed hard until about 7, when sunrise and quiet horse murmurings pulled me out of the sleeping bag. I appeased the starving herd, then fortified myself with coffee. Liberty looked great — legs cool and tight, no back soreness (!!! and there hadn’t been any when we finished), bright-eyed, and most important: still talking to me. Yankee was back to normal — while I was out on the second loop, Gina had taken a closer look and found another thorn pretty deeply embedded in his fetlock, and once she removed that, he immediately started moving better and was completely fine by morning.

We did some hoof/boot consultations (Kirt have me one of those “show me what you’ve learned” tests by having me evaluate the hoof and what I would adjust on the trim…I passed with flying colors, which is always nice to hear since I tend to second-guess and doubt my abilities and skills when it comes to hooves and trimming) and slowly started to pack things up. Gina and I took the horses for a walk around camp, then loaded up and hit the road.

IMG_5836

nomming camp leftovers with Wicked

I swear, the road going out was almost worse than coming in, but I had good music on the radio, and a happy sense of success and fulfillment after a dynamite weekend, so the drive home went fast, and I was back by early afternoon to be greeted by my very excited Terrier Greeting Committee.

I am so, SO proud of this mare, I could just burst. She has not done very much training solo, and never at a ride. This is only my fourth time riding her, so she really doesn’t know me that well…and this was only the third time I would take a horse through a ride by myself. (The first was Mimi’s and my first 25, the second time was when I took Beamer on an LD at McDowell — both times on horses I knew very well and had spent a lot of time around.)

I felt so safe and comfortable on her. She’s sensible, not over-reactive, and keeps her head even when fairly stressed (such as leaving or meeting-and-leaving buddies). She never blew up, and she wasn’t even what I would consider particularly spooky. She’s got a stubborn streak that definitely shows up, particularly when she needs a mental break, and a walk that’s slower than a sloth dripped in peanut butter crawling over a glacier…but those are things that will be improved on with time. (And her trot and canter make up for her walk…and in-hand, she walks out quite nicely, so she can learn to do it.)

I don’t think of myself as particularly brave, but in this case, there wasn’t any second thoughts about heading out by ourselves. This horse and I feed off each other — she gives me confidence, she challenges me in all the right ways, and she makes me want to be the best version of the horsewoman I can be.

That was the longest 25 I’ve ever done, but it was worth taking whatever time we needed to make sure we both had a good experience. Liberty will for sure have a long, slow distance base on her, and all of her rides thus far (with the exception of the Bumble Bee pull) have had her on the trail for 6 or so hours, so she’s never learned the “race fast and you’re done in two hours” mentality…to her, you’re always on the trail for 6+ hours, so while moving up in distance will be a change, the longer time out on the trail won’t be as much of an adjustment. (It’s unconventional as a training method but maybe it’ll work?)

So, a Gold Star weekend for both of us, and one more building block layer in Creating a Distance Horse.

AERC Convention 2016

Another whirlwind Convention weekend has come and gone, leaving me short on sleep but exhilarated, inspired, and content after spending the weekend with some of my best friends and endurance “tribe.”

Convention means:

IMG_5732

running the Renegade Hoof Boots booth

 

IMG_5708

snow on the way in to Reno

 

IMG_5709

saddle testing…meet the new love of my life that will someday be gracing a saddle rack in the tack room…one of the flapless ReactorPanel models

 

IMG_5737

way too much fun with saddle testing…where’s that Money/Saddle Fairy when I need her?!?

 

12733378_10209121524101521_3558688552290543115_n

hanging out with friends

With tack swap sales, a teeny bit of shopping, really yummy food (all-you-can-eat sushi!!!) and drinks all thrown in, it makes for a really fun weekend.

Capped off with a driving tour of the Virginia City 100 ride, courtesy of Lucy and Kaity, who have both ridden it multiple times. They succeeded in getting me hooked on the idea of doing this ride, for sure.