ride story

the buzz from Bumble Bee

/ Ashley Wingert / 2 Comments

(That was horrible. I apologize for starting the new year off with cheesy, punny post titles.)

I had a blast at the “Lead, Follow or Get Out of My Way at Bumble Bee Ranch” ride (henceforth referred to as the Bumble Bee ride) this weekend. Attending rides is the absolute highlight of my job — I love interacting with riders and had such a great time meeting so many new people this weekend, or finally putting faces with names of folks I’ve either spoken to over the phone or emailed.

Bumble Bee was a new ride, put together by the same management team that does the “Lead, Follow or Get Out of My Way” ride at McDowell Mountain Park in November. I hope Bumble Bee becomes an annual event, because it’s an absolutely gorgeous location with a great basecamp and, from the little bits I saw along the way and based on what I heard from riders, fantastic, beautiful trails.

Friday was my “work” day, being available as a Renegade rep to answer any questions people might have had, check boot fit, make boot adjustments…pretty much anything that pertained to Renegades.

Saturday I was volunteering, which started with me heading out at 0-dark-thirty, navigating via headlights over a 4-wheel-drive road to man a gate that riders would be passing through fairly early on into the ride (within half an hour of the start…not the time to be getting off and wrangling a combo of a gate + fresh horse). I like doing gate work — it’s fun to say hi to all the riders and watch them pass by.

After gate duty, I went scuttling back to camp to start my job as one of the Master Timers. This is the third ride I’ve had that job, and I really like being in the thick of all of the vet check action. Plus, my organized little brain actually enjoys tracking all of the data. Weird, I know.

(I think my ride stories are probably more interesting than volunteer stories…there’s a lot more drama and entertainment as soon as the four-hooved factor gets added in.)

All in all, it was a really fun weekend. I’m really enjoying still being able to go to rides and socialize and reconnect with all my endurance buddies.

Slacker photographer-r-us this weekend, but I got a few pretty pics of ridecamp and such.

The pavilion where dinner and ride meeting was held.
The bucket in the foreground was the P&R area.
The sign really says it all…
Gate duty Saturday AM. Killing time between riders,
jumping up and down trying to keep warm in 30*.
Driving in to ridecamp late Friday morning.
Yes, this is still Arizona.
At least it didn’t involve rain or snow.
Sunrise Saturday AM. 

Memory Exercise: A Ride Story, One Year Later

/ Ashley Wingert / 1 Comment

I should win an award.  “Longest Time Waiting For Ride Story” or something.  It’s been a year since I did the LD at McDowell Mountain Park with Beamer, and I’m just now sitting down to write about it.  Timely reporting fail.  It wasn’t that the ride was bad, either.  I just lacked the motivation at the time to sit down and write.  Then we sold the horse, and I really didn’t want to write.  I think I’m finally getting to the point where I feel like writing again.  Not okay with the horse being gone…will probably never be fully okay with that, because that means being okay with where my life is at right now, and that’s not happening.

So we’re going to put my memory to the test, and see how much of the ride I can remember.  Fortunately, I’ve got a lot of pictures.  So even if the story doesn’t turn out to be very entertaining…enjoy the photogenic horse.

History


Going to the ride was something of a last-minute whim.  Well, last minute as in “a month ahead of time.”  A month to get Beamer, who had never really been out on his own, and who had had most of the summer off, back in shape.  Mimi was down for the count with an abscess, Dad was down for the count with being crazy-busy with work…I was without a horse, Beamer was without a rider.  Do the math, and between the four of us, we had one functioning riding team.

He did really well in the month leading up to the ride out on his own.  Dad and I took turns taking him out by himself at the San Tans, and he really impressed me, enough to where I felt comfortable with the notion of taking him to a ride, where we’d at least have other horses around us, if not riding with us.  Also bolstering this confidence was the discovery that my saddle fit him.  My designed-for-flat-wide-backed-horses-with-no-withers Duett actually fit him.  The Skito Dryback pad provided sufficient padding to keep the saddle off his withers, and after switching between Dad’s saddle and mine, there was no determinable difference in his movement.  All the sweeter for me, since I really love my saddle.  (As an aside…to date, that saddle’s been on four different horses for rides, and fit all four of them.  Four varying conformations.  Color me impressed.)

Friday


Fast forward to the Friday of the ride.  He loaded into the trailer with nary a peep (this horse has awesome trailer manners) and dug into his hay bag.  Mimi, stuck in the barn, was furious, and sulked in the corner of her stall as we left.  I tried to bribe her with food, but that only went so far…

McDowell is about an hour away from the barn, and an easy drive.  We got there early afternoon, and as soon as I opened up the trailer, Beamer looked around, gave the horsey equivalent of a shoulder shrug, and hopped out of the trailer.  I’m sure it really helped that he’d done two previous rides there — another reason I felt this would be a good ride for us.  This may have bitten us in the butt at some point…but more on that later.

We wandered around camp for a few minutes, him on a loose lead, taking in the sights.  Then it was back to the trailer, and he got installed on Mimi’s side of the trailer — and her HiTie.  He’d been on the HiTie approximately once before, and that was only after he had gone 25 miles.  Didn’t phase him at all, although he didn’t entirely catch on to the “I can turn myself around in a circle” concept.  He did like the “more moving space” concept.

If I didn’t know for a fact this was Beamer (and the blue
bucket to prove it), I would swear it was The Pony.

He’s a really good camper, and we ended up with horses next to us and horses behind us, so he was surrounded by a safe, horsey companion bubble.

Vet-In.  Dr. Rick knows me…and he knows Beamer.  Just not
together.  Had a couple moments of amused confusion.

We went over and vetted in, pausing along the way to explain to several people that “No, my pony didn’t grow; No, I didn’t technically get a new horse; Yes, that horse is familiar because it’s actually my father’s horse.”  Vetting went off without a hitch, and I have to pause for a moment to admire Beamer’s trot.  Even his lazy trot (which he did for that vet-in) is nicer than Mimi’s best trot. Arab versus non-Arab, I guess.  (And younger and sound versus older and fused hocks.)  He also vetted in barefoot, which was awesome.  Beautiful decomposed granite that makes up the parking lot means great footing for trot-outs.

My biggest challenge was going to be pre-riding on Friday.  It’s a necessity with Beamer.  He needs that time to blow off some steam, even if it’s just a couple of miles.  He’s usually higher than a kite, and feels like riding a powder-keg, per my father.  If we could get through this –alone — than we’d probably stand a chance of managing the ride just fine.  We just had to survive Friday afternoon.

I’ll admit — I had more than a few nerves going on at this point.  Beamer is a lot bigger than I’m used to (five inches, to be exact) and a very powerful horse.  He’d tossed me off on a couple of occasions very shortly after we got him, and I’ve been a bit wary of him ever since.  So we started off hand-walking down the service road the 25s would the starting on the next morning.  The other necessity for me with Beamer is a mounting block of sorts.  I don’t flat-mount 15hh horses.  About a hundred yards or so down the trail, I spotted some nice sturdy rocks just off the trail and used them to slither on.

Beamer was definitely up, and we tiptoed our way down the trail.  He gave me a couple head shakes on one of the downhills, suggesting how very much he would like to trot…and subsequently buck.  I declined.  We walked.  We probably went out another mile or so, then turned around.  Heading home, I allowed him some very brief controlled trotting moments.  He reminds me of a pressure cooker: You have to bleed the steam off slowly, in a controlled manner.  If you let it all out at once, your lid is going to explode and hit the ceiling.

Once we got back to camp, we stood around talking to a few people around the check-in/vet-in area, and he was great.  Standing there all relaxed and curious about what was happening.  He drank some at the trough, then we meandered back to the trailer.  He got dinner, and I got a ride briefing.

He was a great camper overnight…I never even heard him out there.  I did have to remember to talk to him when I’d open up the door, otherwise the sudden opening of the dressing room door would tend to startle him.

The Ride


Specifics escape me, but I want to say we had a fairly early start…6:30, maybe?  I was up super-early to allow myself plenty of time to eat, put Beamer’s Renegades on, mess with saddlepacks, and the whole “new and different horse” thing.  Fortunately, the vet check between Loop One (15 miles) and Loop Two (10 miles) was back in camp, so I didn’t have to pack the crew box or worry about getting food together.

Got my coffee and gave Beamer his breakfast, then set to work nibbling on something for myself.  I have to eat on ride mornings — years of show training instilled an almost instinctive ability to eat, despite nerves and busy-ness — but I can’t eat quickly.  In between bites of hard-boiled egg and peanut butter toast, I slipped Beamer’s boots on.  This horse was made for Renegades.  They go on so easy and fit his feet perfectly.  They were the one thing I wasn’t worried about at all, since I’ve been with Dad and Beamer for every one of their miles and seen their track record with these boots.

(He’s had two boots come off in a period of five years.  Earlier on, we had trouble with Beamer wearing out the Velcro straps very quickly, especially in the highs.  He’d drag his toes and roll the Velcro.  Shortening his toes ended that problem.)


Dad came up to crew for us, since home was only about half an hour away.  His help was appreciated, and most important, his moral support.  He knows the horse much better than I do, too, so he’d be able to give me feedback at the vetcheck of how Beamer looked.  (One of Beamer’s nicknames, given in one of my not-so-charitable moments, is “Sandbagger.”  He can be the biggest lazy-a** of a horse sometimes, and doesn’t necessarily love haaaaaard work.)  Dad knows the difference between “Sandbag Beamer” and “Tired Beamer.”

Dad was also responsible for getting a ton of pictures of us, since I wasn’t brave enough to bring my camera along.  I was planning on two hands on the reins at all times, never mind taking pictures.

Last-minute tack adjustments.  Yes, we are disgustingly
color-coordinated.  Did I mention it was a Halloween ride?
I wasn’t even going for the Halloween effect — it was the
Renegade Sport Orange subliminal color advertising at work.
If the color didn’t work, my Renegade t-shirt did.

Beamer is almost disgustingly calm on the ground.  Really, he has fabulous ground manners.  Please note the “no hands on the lead” display.  One of these days, I’m going to run across a horse that actually requires me to pay attention on the ground…

I did my last-minute tack fidgets, gave Beamer his accustomed couple circles of lunging, took a deep breath, and scrambled on.  It was still plenty early, and I had timed things just right to give me my accustomed 15 minutes of warm-up.  We walked up to the start and walked circles.  Most amusingly, the only behavioral indiscretion on Beamer’s part came when we’d turn and start walking away from the start.  He threatened to hop up and down a couple times, and then settled as soon as we faced the starting area again.

Up, but keeping it together.  The tail is only at half-mast,
which is a good sign.  The grin isn’t faked, either.



Okay, this is good.  He wants to go.

We started off pretty much in the middle of the pack, which is how Beamer prefers it.  The warm-up time allowed us to go right along at a trot.  He really held it together, despite the horse with the grass hula skirt that was right on his tail.  I could tell it was concerning him, so I let them pass, and he relaxed.

We hit a sand wash almost immediately, and I was able to let him move out at a nice trot.  I got a few head-shakes out of him when I’d check him, but again…keeping it together.

Alerting on the hula skirt behind us.

The wash was only a short stretch, and then we connected up to the Scenic Trail that runs along a ridgeline with a fabulous view of the Verde River in the distance.  Halfway up the hill, I experienced one of Beamer’s acrobatic feats.  Tired of me checking him, wondering why the horses ahead of him all disappeared around the corner, and concerned about the horses in the wash below us, he let out an impressive buck.  While trotting.  On a rocky singletrack.  Uphill.

This horse is an athletic freak.

I checked him, let out some colorful language, and we kept moving forward.  Made some pretty good time along the ridgeline, and he didn’t spook at the bench that Mimi always spooks at.  It’s really a pretty trail, and I love the 360* views.  When I’ve done the ride in the past, the 50s didn’t do this section of trail until the afternoon, and by then it was hot, and not nearly as much fun.

Down on the other side of the mountain, there was a water stop at the road, and the ride photographer stationed nearby.

Photographer Dean Stanton got a great series of pics.  B
was alert, a little wary, but the end result was beautiful!

 He wasn’t much interested in water, but given that it was only five or so miles into the ride, I wasn’t surprised.

Stopped for the road crossing.  He didn’t want to stop.

There were sufficient horses around us that he was plenty motivated to keep going, and wanted to do more than trot.  Given we had only gone about five miles, and given that he had already displayed some vertical hind-end enthusiasm, I elected for a trot.  He’s got a big trot when he’s motivated.

This section of the park is probably my least favorite, especially as you approach the northwestern-most corner.  The trail has a lot of blind curves and is quite brushy in some places.  B has never been fond of it either, but we made it through unscathed, with only one bike popping up behind us and startling B.

There was another water stop at the far end of this loop.  I actually hopped off here to adjust my pad (general endurance cut, no billet straps, so it tends to wiggle about under my saddle) and sloshed a bit of water on B’s neck.  He did not appreciate the gesture, even though he was fuzzy (I had clipped his neck earlier in the week, and braided his mane that morning) and getting sweaty.  He also didn’t drink.  Again, we’d only come 10 miles or so, but he usually drinks by this point.  Internalized nerves were probably interfering to some degree.

The benefit of riding a horse you enough is younger, tougher, and has more natural athleticism than your own horse?  You only lose a couple of minutes worrying about them before taking the tough love, “they’ll learn not to ignore water when it’s offered” tactic.  Me being me, though…I still worried a bit.  But I didn’t waste time trying to bribe him.  Found a suitable dirt pile and scrambled back on.  (13.3hh is sounding better all the time.)

A little ways past the water stop, one of my rear boot bags started flopping around, and I did my best to jerry-rig it in place without getting off the horse.  Also, with only using one hand, since I didn’t trust him enough to let go of both reins.  It sorta stayed in place…until we started trotting again.  Yanked it off and clipped it to the front of my saddle, where I could hold it in place.

Shortly beyond this point, we got off the nice single-track and into a wash.  A rather deep wash that’s really shrubby on both sides.  Beamer got very up and this point, so I hopped off to walk him, lest someone come up behind us and send him launching.  This was my major tactical mistake of the ride.  I got off to walk…and couldn’t get back on.  There wasn’t a good, safe place to mount, and whenever I’d go to get on, Beamer would sidle away.  So we walked.

Did I mention this wash was about two miles long?  I hand-walked all. of. it.  Unfortunately, this really cost us some serious time.  Finally got out of the wash and to the water stop.  Beamer drank, I sponged him, and tied my boot bag back in place.  And re-adjusted my saddle pad.  Again.

I was hot, sweaty, and a little bit peeved at this point, and a bit annoyed that there wasn’t a suitable place to get on.  (Ya think you should learn to flat-mount a tall horse, O’ Out-of-Shape One?)

So I ended up hand-walking out of the water stop.  Note to self: When someone offers to give you a hand, take them up on it.  Tried getting on a couple more times past the stop, and B wasn’t having it.  He was liking this whole “rider walks” gig.

Low point…leading out because I can’t figure out how to get
back on my horse.

I finally found a large pile of rocks that were used to surround one of the trail signs.  As Beamer sidled away one more time, the end of my reins might have connected with his shoulder, and I might have called him some very colorful names…but it made my point.  I was done with his games.

Funny enough, he stepped right up to the rocks after that.  Epic mounting fail on my part was what followed next.  I knew it was a bad spot to get on, but there was literally nothing else to use.  So as I hopped up and swung my leg, my foot hit the metal sign.

Kudos to Beamer…he really held it together.  That would have been enough to incite a bucking fit, but all he did was surge forward, with his butt tucked in concern and head up.  Fortunately I had my reins.  Only one stirrup, though.  So he redeemed himself, although I considered spooking him my revenge for the endless walking.

Now it was a mission to make up time.  We got trotting, and then cantering.  He’s got a great canter.  The textbook, rocking-horse kind of canter.  It’s not super-speedy, but we clip along, and it’s really surefooted.  Best part was the trail was a gentle downhill grade, and he felt perfectly balanced and comfortable.  (Can’t safely canter downhill on an already-downhill-built pony.)

Time was of the essence now…which is of course why he decided the water trough at the next road crossing looked delicious.  Guess he figured out that “use it or lose it” thing…

The way back into camp was The Wash that McDowell is infamous for — two miles of fairly deep sand.  Having done this ride twice, Beamer knows this wash.  He was a trooper heading down it, though — probably helped that we were heading for “home.”

Sorta dragging in at the end of Loop One.  Grin is for the
camera, since I was more grim at this point.

We trotted most of the back in, and I hopped off just outside of camp.  Dad was waiting for us, a bit concerned because we were pretty near the tail-end of the pack.

 By the time we walked in, I loosened my girth, let him drink, and removed his S-hack, B was down.  Wow, that horse pulses in fast.  (It was probably less than two minutes.)

He vetted in great…I want to say all As.

He doesn’t even look tired.  I, OTOH, look wilted.

We had an hour hold, during which time I managed to sit down for probably ten whole minutes.  (Tevis practice.)  I stripped tack for whatever reason, which is the first time I can recall ever doing so.  I suspect it had something to do with the heat, and the fact we were back at the  trailer, so could dump it on a saddle tack.  I think I wanted to pull the saddle pad out and reset the whole thing in an effort to keep the pad from wiggling so much.

In that hour, I managed to: untack, feed the horse, eat, pull off the annoying boot bags, check the GPS (alarmingly, the “15” mile loop was clocking in at 18), take a potty break, shed my long-sleeve t-shirt, re-tack, and be in the saddle again five minutes before my out-time.

A little effort, B?  Both of my feet are off the ground.

I was racing the clock now, and had determined that the next loop was probably somewhere between 8-10 miles.  I had an hour and half to finish.  I wasn’t sure I could make it…but I was going to try.

B got another drink at the trough, and then we walked around as we waited for the “go” from the out-timer.

I was racing the clock now, and had determined that the next loop was probably somewhere between 8-10 miles.  I had an hour and half to finish.  I wasn’t sure I could make it…but I was going to try.

Waiting to head out on Loop Two.

B got another drink at the trough, and then we walked around as we waited for the “go” from the out-timer.  I wanted to make sure he was plenty warmed-up so we could hit the ground running…okay, trotting.  I was determined to make every second of the second loop count.

The impressive trot lasted until we hit the sand wash again (all of about ten seconds…) and then it was back to peddle-peddle-peddle for the next two miles.  I’d get a bit of a peddle-trot out of him, then we’d slouch to a walk again.  Peddle-trot-slouch-walk.  There were two riders behind me, and we leapfrogged up the wash this way.  None of our horses were particularly motivated or wanted to lead, so the old “go ahead, follow the one in front of you” standby wasn’t working so well.  Once we hit the single-track again, he picked up.  (Why does this surprise me…it happened this way the other two times.)

Of course we had to stop at the water trough at the road crossing again.  After that, we did got a good clip going.  Until we hit the next wash.  B slowed down, but I wheedled, peddled, coaxed, cajoled, and encouraged him up the wash at a respectable trot.  Motivation was trying to stay ahead of the two ladies behind us.  He did really good, and got a lot of “atta boy” praises along the way.

Once we hit single-track, he picked it up again, and we really upped the speed with some nice stretches of cantering.  There was enough up and down on the trail that it really broke things up…good for the rest, but harder to keep up a good average pace.

The trail eventually looped back around to the same water stop from earlier in the day…and this time, I stayed mounted.  (She eventually catches on, that one…)  He drank, then we boogied.

I love this picture.  :)  Heading home for the final stretch.

We were both familiar with this stretch right after the water, and we flew.  I was so impressed with B…he was cantering along on a loose rein, cheerfully watching the trail.  At one point, we had an impressive skid moment…he hit a slick batch of decomposed granite and both hind feet skidded forward…and he never missed a beat.  Still kept right on cantering.  See above re: Athletic Freak.

We were clipping right along…came to the road crossing again, he drank (again), and then we hit the wash.  And B hit the wall.  Didn’t matter how much I begged, pleaded, peddled, cajoled, prodded, whatnot…he wasn’t gonna go.  Nope, not down that wash again.  He’d cheerfully walk out, but he wasn’t going to trot again.  Well, we had about a mile and half to go…and five minutes to make it.  Well, that wasn’t going to happen.

I was bummed, but resigned.  He’d done his best, and really, done more than I expected: 25 miles, all by himself.  I’m guessing he was just mentally done at this point and tired of being on his own.  We ended up coming in about 20 minutes overtime.  *sigh*  I’d called Dad from down in the wash to let him know.

Just as a courtesy, we pulsed down (B was something in the low 40’s, so he wasn’t physically tired, just mentally a bit done-in for the day.  He still looked really perky and was starving back at the trailer.) and did an exit check and turned in my vet card.

We took B back to the trailer and cleaned him up and let him rest while we packed up the trailer.  (Ooo, forgot how nice finishing while it’s still early afternoon can be.)

So I was really tickled with B, even if we didn’t officially complete.  But wait…there’s an epilogue to this story…

Aftermath

Remember when I said I GPS’d the first loop at 18 miles?  Well, when I pulled my boot bags off at lunch, I forgot to pull out my GPS to record the second loop.  A couple days post-ride, I get an e-mail from the trail master of the ride, wondering if I had a GPS track of the LD.  No, not the whole thing…but I have the first loop.  Okay, she says.  We believe there were some mileage discrepancies, and I’m going to go out to the park today and ride the LD trail myself.

A couple days later, I hear from her and the ride manager: the 25 actually GPS’d closer to 29 miles, therefore the mileage was being increased to a 30…and the completion time extended by an hour and fifteen minutes.  Which means we actually got our finish.  Yeah!!!

We ended up coming in 33rd out of 38, with a ride time of 5:32.

October 2011


I can’t believe how much of that I remembered.  It was clearly a good ride for me to recall so much.  I really had fun, and was pleased as punch with how Beamer did.

Valley of the Sun Turkey Trot 50

/ Ashley Wingert / 1 Comment

A day late and a dollar short, or so the saying goes.  Well, this is more like six weeks late, and it’s definitely not short…but here it is, as promised, my VotS Turkey Trot 50 ride story.  Enjoy, and as always, I love hearing your feedback.

***
Valley of the Sun Turkey Trot 50
November 21, 2009

In many parts of the country, November can mean snow flurries, cold rain, and generally unpleasant riding conditions. In the Southwest Region, and particularly in Arizona, November typically means bright sunshine, cold nights, and pleasantly warm days – perfect ride conditions.

A brief moment of background for those just coming in:

The players mentioned herein are myself, Ashley, and my father, Vern. Our mounts are, respectively, Skip Me Gold (“Mimi”) a 14hh, 16-year-old POA (Pony of the Americas) endurance pony mare, and Brahma PFF (“Beamer”) a 10-year-old Shagya Arabian gelding. Mimi and I are former show ring princesses…the pony who couldn’t cross a cavalletti without clunking, and the rider who was afraid to venture outside the enclosed arena. What a team…of what, I’m not quite sure. We spent seven years in the show ring, and the last seven embarking on various distance riding exploits.

And now back to our regularly scheduled programming.

The VotS Turkey Trot offered two days of rides – a 50- or 75-miler on Saturday, and a 50-miler on Sunday. We chose to wrap up the season by doing the Saturday 50. One of the nice things about the VotS rides is that they’re held at McDowell Mountain Park, which is only about an hour’s drive from the barn. That means I have time in the morning to pack the coolers, finish packing the truck/trailer, and drive down to fetch ponies, all without having to get up at oh-dark-thirty in the morning. Very civilized.

Despite being so close to ridecamp, we still like to get there early. We left the barn around 10:00, late enough to avoid the worst of the traffic. We ended up detouring back to home to pick up a couple things inadvertently left off the packing list, and eventually pulled into ridecamp around 11:30…still one of the first dozen people to arrive.

Camp setup gets easier and easier as I continue to tweak the layout and arrangement of how I pack the truck and trailer, and we were set up within an hour. After that, we took the ponies for a walk, and grabbed our rider packets along the way. The vets had stepped out for a moment (apparently they have to eat lunch just like everyone else), so we used that time to stand the ponies in front of the water trough and convince them that pre-hydrating was a good idea.

The vets for the ride, Gene Nance and Rick Poteste, are both experienced, knowledgeable vets with the kind of miles and hours in the saddle I can only hope to some day achieve, and I was very happy to have them vetting the ride. They were both back in very short order, and we quickly vetted through, all As for both ponies.

We went back to the trailer, quickly tacked up, and headed out for a short stretch, stopping to socialize with several people along the way. Between this being the last ride of the season, as well as offering a 75-miler, a lot of people had shown up, and there were a lot of familiar faces milling about ridecamp. We eventually got out of camp and took a short ride up what has by now become the “infamous” sand wash of McDowell – a 2-mile-long stretch of deep sand that is the only way in and out of ridecamp, and that gets traversed four times over the course of a 50-mile ride (six times for the 75).

I suspected I might be in for an interested ride when I nearly got dumped on the way back after Mimi spooked, scooted, and tried to bolt at someone riding up behind us. *sigh* This, after falling off for the first time in several years the previous Sunday when she spooked at…a piece of cardboard next to the trail. Yeah, she’s fit, and definitely needed 50 miles to take the edge off. That’s the part nobody warns you about: there is a distinct correlation between their fitness level and their excitability level. My 16-year-old, formerly docile show pony was showing previous unheard of stores of energy, and seems to be regressing in age the more miles we get.

We did make it back to camp in one piece, and had plenty of time to untack the ponies and start throwing large amounts of food in front of their faces before the ride briefing and accompanying pizza dinner started. I used this time to further socialize, and to spend time touching base with Kirt and Gina Lander of Renegade Hoof Boots. We’ve been using the Renegades now for about four years, and in the past year, with Kirt’s guidance, have ventured into doing our own hoof trimming and maintenance.

As someone that is relatively new and self-admittedly inexperienced with trimming, it’s always nice to be able to get Kirt’s feedback on how we’re doing, something we’d be able to do later that evening.

Ride briefing did what it says on the tin, and was finished before the pizza even started to cool off. Then we headed back to the trailers to start packing things for the next day. There would be one check at the halfway point back in camp, which meant that I didn’t have to have the behemoth crew box packed, as everything would be there at the trailer. However, spending 25 miles out on a trail with very little by way of natural grazing (this is the desert in November, after all) meant that we needed to be carrying some pony sustenance in our saddle bags.

I had made up a batch of flax cookies, and divided up the pieces into Ziploc baggies…one bag for each of us for each loop. There were also the requisite carrot chunks, and Mimi’s pre-filled electrolyte syringes. Rider sustenance was also helpful, so I prepped the piles of energy bars, GU, and other little snacks that would suffice for out on trail.

In the meantime, I was also heating spaghetti for a second dinner with Kirt and Gina…more time to sit and catch up before doing some final hood work on the ponies. By the time everything was said and done for the evening, it was about 10:00 by the time I finally got to bed…a bit later than I prefer for a 4:30 wake-up.

The promised wake-up did indeed come at 4:30, and it was chilly enough inside the dressing room to encourage very quick dressing in several layers. Ponies got their breakfast while Dad and I got our breakfast coffee, and I engaged in my typical pre-ride ritual of seeing how long I can make one piece of toast last. The answer: ad infinitum, as I always end up throwing away at least the last ¼ of the piece when it’s time to go tack up.

Tacking up is the fastest part of our morning routine…boots on, splint boots on, saddle on, accoutrements (breastcollar, crupper), anything extra that needs to hang from the saddle, bridle, good to go. Last minute rider prep (no, don’t lock your keys in the dressing room, you’re going to need those to get back in…), and we were both in the saddle by 6:40, with plenty of time for a decent warm-up before the 7:00 ride start.

Ride start was a very long controlled start this time…the entire way up the 2-mile sand wash. It was very slow-going at times, but the enforced slow warm-up was nice, and I was supremely proud of how Mimi handled it. She can be fussy about being crowded , especially from behind, and has a tendency to lose her focus on the trail and worry about how close other horses might be. We were fortunate this time to be surrounded by experienced, courteous riders who gave us plenty of space and made navigating the most crowded part of the start much easier on all involved.

The trail was identical to February’s ride, and as I already when into extensive detail during that write-up, I’ll try to stick to the highlights this time around.

We made good time into the first water stop at around 10 miles. Took about 7 minutes there to let the ponies drink, for both of us to use the facilities (“hello, dense creosote bush…you’re just what I’ve been looking for”), e’lyte Mimi, and break out a couple flax cookies and some carrots. They munched gratefully – the flax cookies were a huge success.

Within a couple miles of the water trough, we got our space bubble for the ride, and would continue to maintain it for the rest of the time. From hereon in, we took turns leapfrogging who would lead and who would follow. There was another water stop at ~20 miles, and from there, it was another 5 miles back to camp, including the two miles back down the sand wash.

We met several 75-milers, as well as some of the Top Ten 50-milers, coming up the wash as we were heading in, but aside from having to watch for “oncoming traffic,” we were able to make good time heading back into camp. Back at camp, both ponies drank and pulsed down almost immediately. They both vetted through without a hitch, although I think I remember (six weeks later as I write this) a couple of Bs for each…most likely gut sounds for both, and gait and/or impulsion for the eggbeater pony.

The hold was for an hour, and both ponies set about to trying to rub the paint off the trailer from all their itching while I got lunch ready. The menu for the day: honey-barbeque roasted chicken lunchmeat slices, sliced fontina cheese, grapes, and bowls of the Never-ending Salad.

The one problem with back-at-camp checks: my comfortable chair is at the trailer, readily available for me to use, and I’m always reluctant to get up once I’m so comfortable. However, there were still things to do, so after indulging in 20 minutes of sitting and enjoying my lunch, I finished off the rest of the hold tasks: e’lyting both ponies, topping off water bottles and my Camelbak waist pack, restocking on pony and rider snacks, and reattaching the saddle accoutrements (removed for ease of pony “head to the ground to eat” maneuvers) – a compromise to full untacking, which is not my favorite thing unless absolutely necessary.

We were about five minutes late out of lunch, as the vet wanted to see Mimi trot under saddle before letting us go back out (Eggbeaters ‘R Us). Out of camp, and back into the sand wash, and the ponies’ lowest point of the day. Mimi decided this would be a good time to go potty…and procrastinate the inevitable of having to go up that *^#! wash again. Five minutes later, after dragging her feet and being peddled one step at a time, she finally found the perfect sandy spot and peed. Then the real fun began.

Both ponies had to be peddled, coaxed, encouraged, and nudged up the wash. Needless to say, this does not inspire rider confidence. Beamer hadn’t ate that well during lunch and he hadn’t had much to drink, either, causing some consternation on Dad’s part. We finally made it through the wash (we had given up on peddling partway through and were resigned to trudging) and onto solid trail, and lo and behold…lively ponies! They both shot out of that wash and offered up a springy, cheerful trot…*&#^ sandbaggers.

Almost immediately after getting on the trail, it crossed through a staging area with a large water trough. Mimi hustled over and drank, then Beamer made up for lost time. Thus fortified, we set off again, heading for the one significant hill climb of the whole ride. On the backside of the hill, we lost the breeze that had been keeping us cool, and thus lost much of our forward enthusiasm. Back to trudging.

We trudged up the hill, and finally reached the top of the ridgeline, where we were able to employ the “trot ten feet” strategy. It does work, and makes faster time than just straight walking. Mimi was still sandbagging, as she spooked at a bench on top of the ridge, nearly repeating the same move that had me on the ground the previous weekend.

Some of my sympathy vanished at this point, and for the next mile, insisted that we trot whenever it was feasible. Beamer, behind us at this point, had gone into “conserve mode,” obviously resigned to the fact that we actually were going to do the same trail from February, and he was in no hurry to get to those upcoming miles.

It was at this point I was feeling pretty swamped with overwhelming tiredness. I hadn’t slept well the previous night, waking up just about every hour, unable to get warm, and now it was catching up to me. I rummaged around for a caffeinated GU, which helped a bit, and at the water stop at the bottom of the hill, I hopped off and walked for a bit.

After the walking break, Dad and Beamer took the lead and set a smart pace, which helped wake all of us up, and once we got to the wider service road part of the trail, we broke things up by mixing in some stretches of cantering.

We saw a couple of the wild/semi-wild/loose ranch horses again…we’re 3/3 now for horse sightings while riding at McDowell.

The trail eventually looped back around to the second water stop from the first loop, where both ponies drank, then had to be peddled back out – a longer, more roundabout way around, versus the direct-to-camp way of loop one. Both ponies knew what was coming, and neither were thrilled, but they went.

It was seven miles back to camp at this point, and we could pretty much walk the whole way if needed. The ponies still had plenty left in the tanks, however, so we still stuck with the “trot when you can” tactic, breaking it up with stops every five minutes or so to let the ponies grab a clump of dry grass just off the trail. This grazing method really helped keep them perky on the way home, and probably contributed to keeping their gut sounds going. The flax cookies had been doled out earlier, and were gone by the last water stop, so it was nice to have something for them to munch, even if it was sparse.

It was nearing dusk by the time we left the last water stop, and we ended up riding the last five miles in the dark, which was actually great fun! I’ve ridden Mimi twice in the dark before, and Dad’s never had Beamer out in the dark. There was an almost-full moon, which helped, but no glowsticks. Fortunately, the five miles back in was all familiar trail, traversed earlier in the day.

The lack of light didn’t slow the ponies down one bit. One of my favorite parts of the ride was trotting through the final two miles of sand wash in the pitch black. Everything seems to be quieter and more muffled in the dark, and there’s this sense of isolation and peace, being out there almost entirely by yourself in the dark. I had one of those “moments” with Mimi at this point…the kind where I felt totally in sync with her, I knew I wasn’t interfering with her in any way, I couldn’t see but a foot in front of me, and I totally trusted her to find the trail and know the way home.

There were a couple of times where I attempted to direct her to what I thought was the trail, only to have her blow me off and keep going her own way. Curious…until I looked at where I had wanted to go and they were just dead-end little spurs off the main wash, or an odd gap in the bushes. Ah, so that’s why people say “just give them their head” when it comes to finding the trail in the dark. That served to further increase my confidence and trust in her as a smart trail pony.

We finished at about 6:15, and immediately vetted through. Beamer was back to all As, and Mimi had a couple of Bs – gut sounds and impulsion, if I remember correctly. Then we whisked them back to the trailer and tossed fleeces on them immediately, then untacked and unbooted them.

Another great ride in Renegades! I put them on in the morning, and only touched one of them at lunch to loop a tailpiece of Velcro back under its o-ring keeper. Her feet looked great – no rubs, and no twisting problems in the deep sand. While the vast majority of the trail is pretty smooth, there were some rocky sections I was glad to have the hoof protection, and I was super-glad to have the additional protection and shock absorption from the concussion of trotting on some pretty hard-packed trails. Beamer’s boots were great as well – on in the morning, off at the end, and I didn’t see Dad put one finger on them in between.

That wrapped up the ride season for us…150 miles for me and Mimi, 175 miles for Dad and Beamer…and all in Renegades.

We stayed overnight, despite home being so close, as both ponies are such good campers, and seeing it takes us a couple of hours to pack up, it would be close to 1:00 in the morning before we’d get home, so it was better all around to stay until the next day.

We eventually left camp Sunday…afternoon. Sunday morning was spent slowly packing up the trailer, and spending a good deal of time catching up with friends, comparing notes, and talking horses.

Good ride, friends, good ponies…a perfect way to wrap up the 2009 ride season. Onward to 2010!

Cliffnotes on McDowell

/ Ashley Wingert / 2 Comments

I’m way behind on all things blog-related, mostly due to 1) my laptop crashing again and 2) life is insane.  The cliffnotes version of the last 2 weeks is:  I fell off Mimi for the first time in a couple years, the Sunday before going to McDowell.  Not how to go into a ride.  However, we went to McDowell.  Dad and Beamer also went, as Beamer’s sore shoulder cleared up a week and half or so before the ride.  We all finished, and in fine form.  Tough ride, and despite being the same trail as February, it seemed harder this time, but the ponies looked better at the end.

Details will follow in a later post, as I was writing the ride story when the computer crashed.  Photos will be up later, as mine were on my computer, but not backed up when it crashed.  Granted, I only took about 10 pictures throughout the day.  The photographer got some beautiful pictures of us, and as soon as the digital copies go up online, I’ll post those.

Ride Story: Man Against Horse 2009

/ Ashley Wingert / 4 Comments

The 26th Annual Man Against Horse Race in Prescott, Arizona, marks the 5th anniversary of my foray into the world of AERC and endurance riding. This was the first AERC 25-mile LD ride I competed – and completed. As such, this is a ride that has always held a lot of sentiment to me, and it’s a ride I’ve been able to go to every year since.
The previous year, 2008, my father and I had tried the 50-miler for the first time, but were pulled at 38 miles for being overtime. We were somewhat dismayed and disheartened that year, both from the OT pull and the shock factor: we had known the ride was going to be difficult, but we were still in for a surprise, made all the more difficult by the addition of some horrendous rain and wind that made for downright treacherous trails in a couple spots. Afterwards, I believe I said something to the effect of, “I will never ask Mimi to do that ride again.”

This year, circumstances were conspiring in such a way that it looked like we would end up missing this special ride. Part of me was feeling all right about this after last year’s attempt, as I wasn’t sure I wanted to face that mountain again. The other part of me wanted a grudge match and to redeem myself, despite my insistence that I wouldn’t.

At the last minute, life pointed us in a different direction and said, “You’re going.” It was very last minute – we made the decision to go the Thursday before the ride, about noontime. The rest of the afternoon was spent trying to fit all of our ride prep into one afternoon: clean out the horse trailer that hasn’t been used for an overnight trip since June, repack the trailer, bathe ponies, load hay/water, fetch the trail home to finish packing, and pack people stuff. I’m happy to report we managed to get everything done in about eight hours, and I was still able to fall into bed at a respectable time.

The nice thing about fairly local rides (just under a 3-hour drive from the barn) means that I don’t have to be up at oh-dark-thirty a.m., and can mess with fetching ice and packing up the food cooler in the morning. Dad and I are early-birds when it comes to getting to rides, even those fairly close by in our own state, and we pulled out of our driveway at 7:15, were at the barn by 8:00, and on the road again, ponies in tow, by 8:20.

The trip up was the best kind – uneventful, with nothing to report. We pulled in to ride camp just after 11:00, and practically had our pick of camping spots. Camp is a large cow pasture on Fain Ranch, and part of the fun of this ride is watching the cows meander along the outskirts of where all the rigs are parked and down by the vetting area.

Some history of the ride:

The first Man Against Horse race took place in 1983 and was conceived by Prescott, AZ residents Gheral Brownlow and Steve Rafters. Gheral was a runner and owned a store in town. Steve was a cowboy who worked for the Prescott Police Department and enjoyed riding horses. Rumor has it that they decided to put on the race while at one of the taverns on Whiskey Row in Prescott.

Ron Barrett, a local runner and endurance rider, became ride manager in 1988 and moved the ride from its original location at Whitehorse Lake to its current location at the base of Mingus Mountain in Prescott Valley, AZ. All proceeds and donations from the event go to support food banks in the area. Over the years, more than $100,000 has been given to feed the hungry.

Thanks to Kevin Myers for the summary of the ride’s history.

Man Against Horse is a very unique ride in that riders and runners compete alongside each other over the same courses. As far as I know, it’s the only event like it in the southwest. The horses really seem to enjoy sharing the trail with the runners, and quickly catch on to the idea of “chasing” after the runners. And it’s great desensitization and training for those who end up doing a lot of riding on multi-use trails.

Once in ride camp, we fell into our setup routine, which went like clockwork, despite not having done a ride since February. Guess we’ve got the hang of getting our “cowboy condo” (thanks, Dad!) set up by now. We took the ponies for a walk around ride camp, and I was super-pleased to see how well they handled the rocky ground with their bare hooves. Camp set-up was interspersed with some socialization time, and getting caught up with many people I hadn’t seen in quite a few months. One of the things I really miss when I’m not doing rides is the people – I’ve made so many wonderful friends in the five years I’ve been involved in this sport.

We’ve been experimenting with doing our own trimming for the past three months now, and from my completely unbiased perspective, I think their feet look really good. Every year I’ve done this ride I’ve been in boots of some sort, and every year up until now, I’ve had to have Mimi booted to even walk around camp. It was very gratifying to see her marching over the rocks without a single flinch or misstep.

After camp was set up, we had enough time to go take our pre-ride, and registration and vetting hadn’t yet started, so we saddled up and headed out for an easy, couple mile stretch out from the finish line and back. This section of the trail is open cow pasture, and by taking a peek at it the previous day, I get a heads up as to any new gopher holes that might have cropped up and would be disastrous to ride over.

Both ponies were really good, although Mimi wanted to keep wandering off the trail and go exploring in some of the side washes where the cows like to hang out. (Cow Pony R’ Us) After determining all their legs were still properly attached, and their brains appeared to be settled between their ears, we headed back to the trailer, socialized a bit along the way, then untacked the ponies. While they were munching, I scurried over and got us registered, and after quickly brushing the brown Prescott dust from their legs (an exercise in futility), we headed over to the vet line.

We vetted through without incident, although her trot-out set what would be the continuing trend for the weekend. Mimi is called the “eggbeater” for a reason when she trots. She is 16, and has fused hocks. Her trot always looks a little bit stiff, because it is. She lacks a lot of the flexion in her hocks that would produce a smooth, floating trot, and that makes the vets look twice at her. Both in the past as well as this weekend, I’ve been very fortunate to have vets that were willing to hear out my explanation for why she moved that way, instead of arbitrarily pulling me for “funky” movement, and for that, I thank them.

After vetting, it was time to go over to Kirt and Gina Lander’s trailer and pick up our new pairs of Renegade Hoof Boots. This ride also marks the fourth year of us using Renegades, and of meeting Kirt and Gina along the trail at the first water stop, and realizing they were the ones responsible for those cool new boots our vet had directed us to.

At this point, I would like to pause and thank Kirt and Gina – their boots were one of the key factors in getting us through this ride. The Renegades offered fabulous protection from the rocky trails, and we were able to trot over parts of the trail we would have otherwise been forced to walk. They offered fantastic grip during the grueling climb up Mingus Mountain, including the parts that involved scrambling over large boulders in the trail.

We put the boots on Saturday morning, and never once had to touch them for the rest of the ride until Saturday night after vetting out. Their feet looked fantastic – no rubs or bruising anywhere! The boots stayed in place perfectly and didn’t move or spin at all.

Thank you to Kirt for taking the time to look at their hooves and give them a rasping touchup before fitting the boots. Mimi’s custom-fitted, Equithane-molded hind boots did fantastic, allowing a tiny, almost 000-sized hoof to fit securely into a 00 boot. Her feet have grown since we switched to Renegades…where she had been a 000 on her front feet as well, she is now a 00. Dad’s horse Beamer also moved up in boot size on his front hooves at this ride, from a 1 to a 2.

After getting our boots, it was time for ride briefing, which was fast and informative, and we were able to get back to the trailer in good time and make a fast dinner of ravioli and Caesar salad. While dinner was cooking, I was multi-tasking, mixing electrolytes for the next day and gathering up the last of the essentials to go in the crew box. This was another new experiment: the crew box.

Up to this point, we had been using first one, then two, crew bags, and I wanted to find a way to consolidate, and make things easier to carry, as invariably, one crew bag would end up being streamlined but heavy, and the other would be filled with the lighter but bulky items. In short, the box was fabulous! I could fit everything I needed in it, save for the hay, which went in a bag that got strapped on top of the box. Unfortunately, the bungee cords went on walkabout some time during transport, but not too many people tie their hay bags together with lime green shoelaces, so I was able to easily identify it. Next time, I’ll look for more of a buckle-type strap to go around the whole box.

After dinner, a final stroll to the large water tanks around ride camp with the ponies, and topping off their hay bags, it was time for bed: yet another night of getting to bed at a respectable time. Not that it made much of a difference – I had a very restless night, waking up at least once every hour, drifting off only to wake up again, tossing and turning. Needless to say, I was very glad when the alarm went off at 3:15 Saturday morning.

Yes, I’m an insanely early riser on ride mornings, mostly because there’s a lot of stuff I can’t do until the morning. I typically pack the crew box cooler Saturday morning, as I have a hard time thinking of what I’ll want to eat during the ride until that day. There are also the ride-only things that end up going on my saddle: extra Renegades, small pack for carrots, camera, e’lyte syringes, rain jacket, and rump rug. All of that ends up being easier to put on after Mimi is saddled, since it’s less weight to heave up over her back.

Ride start was at 6:30, with a 6:15 check-in. Both Dad and I were mounted by 6:10, checked-in, and then had the rest of the time to use as a warm-up before the start. The start is situated on a double-track dirt road that dips through a small wash, climbs a slight incline, then drops down to the wash that makes up the first five miles of trail.

Come 6:30, the trail opened, and we found ourselves being whisked along in the middle of the pack – right where we wanted to be. We’ve found that Beamer especially does best when allowed to start along with all the horses, versus being held back. Starting with the pack give him something to focus on – namely, the other horses – and he thinks move about moving forward than moving upward. It was one of our smoothest ride starts, despite Mimi tossing in an uncharacteristic leap of protest at being held back as we crossed through the wash at the start.

The first five miles of trail are mostly in a sand wash that is great for trotting. There were a couple of sections of rocky areas to walk through, but it seems like the wash gets shallower and more trottable every year. This part seemed to zoom by this year, despite having a few moments of “how am I supposed to go 50 miles” when, at around mile 3 or 4, my lower back started whining, my feet went numb, and my legs started wondering how long they could keep up posting. The feeling passed pretty quickly though, and my body settled back into ride mode in short order.

This ride has a lot of checkpoints, courtesy of the county Sheriff’s Jeep Posse. They man the runner’s aid station and take numbers as you pass. They also generously share runner goodies with the riders, a very welcome treat. The first of these many checkpoints is at the 5-mile mark, where we stopped very briefly, split a bottle of water (that was really nice, being able to get a lot of water along the way without having to carry a ton of it on either my person or saddle), and continued on. From here, the trail climbs out of the wash and onto double-track dirt road that winds across rolling meadows at the foothills of the mountains.

Next checkpoint was 7 miles in, and the first horse water available. Neither pony wanted to drink, although Beamer tried to sample the algae growing in the trough. Euw. That was just fine, as there was another trough at the next checkpoint, 2 miles up the trail.


At mile 9, both ponies drank, both riders got off for a quick stretch, and then it was back on trail – the start of what is called the “Grapevine,” a single-track trail that winds up through a canyon and eventually deposits you onto logging roads that take you into the first vet check. This section is one of my favorites. It’s a lot of technical single-track that tunnels through huge stands of scrub oak and Manzanita bushes. Definitely a good section to be wearing half chaps.

Up to this point, Beamer had done the majority of leading, but now it was Mimi’s turn. She’s aces when it comes to hills, especially the kind that involve a lot of twisting, turning, and smart footwork. Her small size and compact build really come in handy on a trail like this.

It’s a 7-mile climb up to VC1, but most of it is slow and gradual, so we were able to trot most of the way to the vet check. We hopped off right at the VC, walked them over to the trough and let them drink, and by the time Beamer was finished drinking, his pulse was down, and Mimi followed suit a minute later (parameters were 64 all day, I think Beamer was at 48, Mimi 60). We were probably in the check a total of three minutes by the time they pulsed down.

It was here I gave up on my heart rate monitor. I haven’t been riding with it of late – my belt for it broke, I’ve yet to get another one put together. and didn’t have time before the ride to remedy that – so I carried the transmitter with me and wore the watch, thinking I could just hold it on her side at the VCs and see when she was down. I attempted this idea at VC1, and gave up when I got a reading of 90 to the pulse-taker’s 60.

VC1 was a hold time of 30 minutes. After pulsing in, we immediately went over to vet in. Both vetted through great, and we found a nice, half-sunny spot to settle in for our remaining…15 minutes. Where does the time go? Dad held the ponies while I grabbed the crew box, draped fleece blankets over their rumps, and laid out pans of sloppy goodie mix, carrots, and hay. I shouldn’t have bothered with their exotic goodie mix concoctions (beet pulp, flax, probiotics) at this ride, as they only wanted hay and carrots. I also used this time for a potty break – ooo, Porta-Potty, very civilized – then traded off pony-holding duties.

Dad and I each ate a peanut butter sandwich, and I amused those around me by multitasking, sandwich still stuffed in my mouth. I believe in eating on the go. The rest of the time was spent refilling water bottles, carrots in the saddle pack, and on-the-trail munchies, then all too soon, it was time to pack up the box, tighten the girths, find a mounting block, and head out…right on the dot at 9:42.

The section after the VC is an old logging-type road that climbs up and down, and up and down, and up and down, drops down onto a gorgeous section of single-track that runs next to a dry streambed, then reaches the next big checkpoint at mile 20. There’s water here for the horses, and they drank again. Shortly after the VC, we met up with Bobbie Jo Lieberman and her Morgan mare, Excalibur Annakate, and they would remain our riding partners for the rest of the day. All three horses paced well together, and got along with each other. There were a couple of dirty looks passed between the two mares a few times, but I consider that par for the course with mares, especially mine.

The next nine miles after the checkpoint at mile 20 is a wide, forest service/logging-type road that winds around Mingus Mountain. It is a mix of being rocky, hard-packed, and pleasant. The first several miles (an approximate guess, since I don’t have a GPS) are rocky, but trottable, especially if you’re wearing hoof boots. The middle three miles are the most unpleasant – large swaths of loose rock, slabs of rock, or a combination of both. It is also out in full sun, making it the warmest part of the ride. However, with highs in the low 70s, even this wasn’t unpleasant.

The view from the road is incredible, though, and in a way, it’s kind of nice to have to walk part of the way, as it allows you to take in the view. At one point, it’s possible to see all the way out to the Sedona red rock canyons, and the whole of the Verde Valley is laid out before you. The camera can’t even begin to capture the panoramic magnificence of the view.

The last three miles or so of the road are really nice. The rocks seem to disappear, comparatively, and you can really fly through this last section. There are sporadically placed culvert alongside the road, though, which makes for some interesting duck-and-weave maneuvers as you go trotting past. Metal culverts = Mimi’s mortal enemy.

At the end of the road awaits what most consider the toughest part of the ride: a three-mile climb up Mingus Mountain, with an elevation gain of about 1800’. (Did the little voices just start chanting, “Tevis training, Tevis training, Tevis training?”) At this point, the trail turns from road into single track, and starts moving upward.

This was our lowest point last year, when, partway through the climb, Mimi slipped on a very tricky, technical section of the trail and we nearly wiped out. All of that was not helped by the fact it was really wet, muddy, and slick last year. This year, the weather was on our side, and the trail seemed to be in great shape. However, remembering last year, I hopped off Mimi in advance of the tough area, which involves a steep climb, sharp switchback, and immediate step up/jump (depending on your horse’s height and leg length) over a rocky ledge.

She clearly remembered last year’s episode, and kindly stopped before the jump up the ledge to let me scramble ahead, then gamely jumped up after me. Good girl. We took a five minute break here in order for me to relearn how to breathe (I don’t do well at elevations) and when Mimi started pulling me down the trail again, I hopped back on to ride her the rest of the way.

Partway up the mountain, we happened upon an unexpected trail occupant: a Green Mojave rattlesnake. Bobbie had been leading the way, with us about a hundred feet behind her. She called back to say she heard something that sounded like rattling behind her, and just about that time, the trail in front of us exploded in a hissing and rattling storm. Beamer slammed to a stop and backed up several yards until he ran into the immovable barrier that was the pony, and we watched as a large snake slithered across the trail and draped itself over a rock about five feet off the trail. After standing there for a couple minutes, trying to determine if the snake was going to keep going, or if he was settled in for the duration, we quickly scurried past him. As if climbing the hill wasn’t enough to get the heart rate going.

The rest of the climb up the mountain is fairly slow-going in most places. There are a few places where you can pick up a trot and make some time, only to slow down within a couple hundred yards to pick through more rocks. It’s the climb that keeps on going – when they say you’re going to the top of the mountain, they mean the very top. Near the top, there’s one final section that involves some deft maneuvering over and through some boulders in the middle of the trail, but Mimi-the-mountain-goat scampered right through it without a hitch. Her little feet come in handy sometimes – she can use tiny crevices and spaces in between rocks as footholds, and pick her way through a tricky section, versus having to leap over a large boulder in one go.

After reaching the top, it’s another mile of blissfully flat forest service road into the vet check at 33 miles . We walked this road as a chance to let the ponies cool off and stretch out after the hard climb. I was ultra-conservative and ultra-paranoid at this ride, as Mimi has had some problems in the past with muscle cramping, so I rode with a rump rug, and religiously whipped it out every time we stopped for more than thirty seconds. That, combined with a more aggressive electrolyting protocol, must have helped, because there weren’t any signs of some of the problems we’ve had in the past.

The vetting portion of VC2 was a repeat of our check-in that involved the vets looking at her cross-eyed as we trotted out, and my heart just sank when I heard the dreaded words, “Trot her out again.” Oh, no. No, no, no. Don’t tell me we just climbed all the way up that %#*^ mountain only to get pulled.

So we trotted again. My legs weren’t being the most cooperative, and the trot-out area was in a small mountain meadow covered in grass that hid a lot of dips and ruts – hard terrain to move out in, which meant we were trotting pretty slow, and the slower she trots, the funkier Mimi looks.

She didn’t look any worse the second time, and even after a very thorough check up and down her legs, she wasn’t showing any signs of pain or soreness, and her heart rate was all of about 48 at this point, the vets ultimately left the decision up to me as to whether I wanted to continue.

There was no doubt in my mind at this point: Absolutely! I know my pony, I know how she moves. She was moving totally normal for her, she was bright-eyed, and her metabolics were great. When she’s uncomfortable, her pulse is sky-high, or it hangs in the mid-range, and she won’t eat. Well, her pulse was down, and she was starving. I often think I over-pack the amount of feed for VCs, but this time, I barely brought enough. They decimated a flake of alfalfa between the two of them at VC1, and at VC2, they each polished off half a flake of alfalfa, half a flake of Bermuda, a couple carrots, and a few scraps of someone’s oat/grain mix leftovers.

Oddly enough, neither of them touched their carefully prepared goodie mixes. And I even left the electrolytes out. VC2 was a longer hold – 45 minutes – and I used the time to feed myself and Dad, refill water bottles and my Camelbak, restock on carrots, and stuff more snacks in the saddles.

All too soon, it was time to go…where does the time go at these vet checks? I don’t know how people manage to sit down and take a break at them – my only break seems to be when I pause to go take a bathroom break. Maybe it gets easier and more streamlined as you go along. Or maybe I need to start trying to wrangle people into coming to crew for me.

We headed out, right on time (yeah!), and moseyed down the trail until they were warmed up, then set off again at a nice trot. At this point, the trail starts heading down the mountain, and was a mix of forest roads and single-track. And rocks. A lot of rocks in this section, and I was so glad for the Renegades. All three of us were riding with Renegades, so were able to move out over the terrain.

Five miles after the vet check, we were back at the same checkpoint as mile 20. Last year, this was where we got pulled. This year, we paused to let the ponies drink, then continued up the road at a brisk trot. This section was fun – a couple miles of forest service dirt road, and we really moved out, even letting the ponies “race” at a canter for a few minutes.

At mile 40, we turned off the road onto what is my new favorite section of the ride: a 3-mile stretch of single-track trail that slowly winds down the mountain, trottable 95% of the way. Mimi led through this section, and we a had a blast! These are her favorite kind of trails, and she just zooms her way through the trees and up and down the hills. This was the section of the ride we missed last year, so I was really excited to be able to make it this year, and Mimi picked up on my excitement, since she practically bounded through here, and before we knew it, we were at VC3 – a gate-and-go style check at mile 43. At this point, the trail meets up with where the 25-milers came through after their hold at VC1, and leads home. All of our ponies had done the 25 before at this ride (Mimi three times) so they knew the way home.

We vetted through quickly, then were off again. At this point, it’s seven miles to the finish. The first two miles are somewhat narrow single-track that switchbacks down the mountain. Mimi wanted to really zip through this section, but begrudgingly acquiesced to my more delicate sensibilities (“No, don’t go racing through here, there’s no catch vegetation!”) most of the way down. It is entirely trottable if you have nerves of steel and need to make up time, but we were still doing okay, time-wise, so we walked part of it and trotted part of it. (Tevis training, right? Actually, truth be told, after riding part of the Tevis canyons over the summer, I found this to be a bit scarier – it’s more open than the canyons, despite a lot of Manzanita catch-vegetation.)

At the bottom of the mountain, it’s a mile of mostly-smooth, double-track dirt road, and we made up a lot of time here, although I had to stop a couple times to accommodate and give my right shin a break, since the pressure from the stirrup leather was reaching the knife-burning sensation level. Another mile on the “power line road,” a wide, hard-packed road that leads back to residential areas, and then camp was in sight.

Two miles across a wide-open field, following a cow path, and we were DONE! We slow-trotted the last mile or so, then walked the last 100 yards to the finish line. Mimi had her “pony march” going, and was out-walking the “big horses” to cross the line first in our group. In her mind, she won.

I know it’s not official until the vet-out, but I knew we had done it. We finished what I would consider to be one of the toughest 50s in the Southwest Region. People were still waiting at the finish line for us to come in, and as soon as I heard their applause, I couldn’t hold back the tears – of joy, of amazement, of absolute pride and wonder for my little Go Pony. She was still bright-eyed and marching, 11 hours and 45 minutes after our start, and after I dismounted, she dragged me over to the water trough to drink.

I whipped the rump rug out, pulled off her leg wraps one final time, and took her over to vet out right then and there. She vetted through great, and the adrenaline from the success of finishing the trail and crossing that line was enough to motivate me to run as fast as I could for the trot-out. That trot-out score was her best of the entire ride.

They were sufficiently cooled-out enough to be able to take them back to the trailer, untack them, blanket them, and leave them to large amounts of grass hay to munch. Last year, we came in so late, we didn’t get dinner. This year, we were still in time to get more than enough of the fabulous barbeque dinner: ribs, melt-in-your-mouth brisket, coleslaw, beans, and peach cobbler. And wine. A finish like this deserves celebration.

The awards for the 50 milers include the coveted silver buckle for finishers…the start of my ride buckle collection! We also got hats, and the t-shirts that all participants get. After dinner, we took the ponies for a walk around camp, let them drink from the troughs, and then left them to sleep, stockpiled with a large amount of food to munch overnight.

A phone call and a few text messages later to spread the word, a “sponge bath” with baby wipes, and it was time for bed. During the night, a storm front started moving in, and despite being exhausted, I kept waking up every couple hours to howling wind outside. At 3 a.m., I finally woke up, in need of Motrin…which was in the truck. I pathetically crawled out of bed and out of the dressing room, but I was glad I went outside when I did. Both ponies had eaten nearly all of their hay, so I gave them a refill, grabbed my Motrin, and went back to bed again, this time until about 6:30.

When I woke up the second time, it was light enough for me to see the formation of storm clouds in the mountains, which was enough to get me out of bed and moving – I had no desire to pack up camp in the rain. Dad woke up shortly thereafter, and in between packing, we took the ponies for another stroll around camp. Mimi was moving much better than I was, which is to say, she was striding out energetically, eyes still sparkling, moving from water trough to trough, and sampling leftover hay left behind vacated camps, while I pathetically lurched alongside. (Don’t I get any credit for sparkling eyes, too? My muscles might have been screeching obscenities at me, but that didn’t diminish the joy I felt over our finish.)

By 8:00, we were packed up and pulling out of camp, just as a few rain splatters started coming down. Good timing! The drive home was just as uneventful as the trip up, and we unloaded two very happy ponies back at the barn. We turned them out in their pasture to roll and drink before bringing them back in for a quick bath. Fortunately, the weather was still warm enough down in the Valley to be able to hose off the sweat and dirt from the weekend. Then they got to roll again. Life is good. :)