Y’all know I collect pretty much anything and everything I can get my hands on related to Tevis, especially stories and articles.
Congratulations to all the riders who finished Tevis this year!
Extra congratulations go out to Mel Faubel and Farley and Karen Chaton and Bo for completing the ride in Renegade Glue-Ons! This is two years in a row now that Renegade boots have finished Tevis.
Barefoot is a movement that is here to stay, as evidenced by the number of booted horses that I understood were at Tevis this year. I’m thrilled about how many riders are taking that step and booted — and not just in endurance. The park I do most of my riding at hosts a lot of casual trail riders, and it’s exciting to see how many of them are in boots as well. I’ve had quite a few people stop me out on the trail or in the parking lot to ask me about boots, and it’s been a delight to see how many of them end up showing up in boots.
Many hikers we come across on trail are also intrigued when they look at our horses’ feet, and I’ve found the explaination that the boots are “like hiking boots for horses” tends to be both easily understood and entertaining.
I’ll be following the Tevis via the webcast today:
http://www.teviscup.org/webcast/main.php
Funnily enough, last year when I was at Tevis, iwas texting back and forth with my dad, who was at home following the webcast. He often knew more than I did about how was where and who was pulled, ironically, and we keeping me in the loop.
I’ve got quite a few people I know riding this year that I’ll be cheering for. Keep your fingers crossed and send your best wishes to:
#49 Karen Chaton & Bo
#64 Melinda Faubel & Farley
#98 Jonni Jewell & Hank
#114 Julia Lynn-Elias & Trinity
#138 Stephanie Palmer-DuRoss & Hadji
#177 Rusty Toth & Stoner
#179 Lory Walls & Alex
Good luck to everyone riding Tevis this year, and have a fun and safe ride!
Ask anyone that has done yoga: Flexibility is a learned skill. Some people are naturally more flexible than others (this would be everyone else other than me), but everyone has to do some degree of work to keep improving their flexibility.
And it’s not just physical. Mental flexibility is also an acquired skill. And I’ve found that nothing in my life has taught me that more than endurance.
I’m sitting here this morning under a low-lying level of thick, gray clouds — literally and figuratively. Monsoon season is upon us in Arizona, and we’re being taunted by those clouds and their accompanying thick, oppressive humidity into thinking rain might be on the horizon if we’re lucky. However, even if it were the brightest, sunniest day ever, I have to admit, I’d still be sitting under a pile of gray storm clouds hovering over my head.
Why?
Because according to my Life Plan, this weekend was supposed to be very different than what is actually happening. Life Plan dictated that, at this moment, I should have been standing around with my cup of coffee, inhaling silty red dust, braiding manes, packing crew boxes, and trying to remember how to breathe at 7200′ elevation.
Tevis.
This was going to be it. My year. My one and only shot at that silver buckle with Mimi. Our chance to defy those odds stacked against us; to pit ourselves against the wilderness and the clock; to experience all the tension, nerves, excitement, and worry as participants, not just as crew members on the sidelines.
That obviously didn’t happen.
Circumstances (school, work) even conspired against me this year to keep me from going up and crewing and enjoying the chaos in that fashion. I’ll be following things vicariously this year, via the webcast. The good: I’ll be making money instead of spending it. There’s my silver lining.
But I will admit: I’m sulking. This has been something I’ve wanted so bad, for so long…it’s been very tough to let go of this particular dream. I know that I’ll find my Tevis horse…someday. And get to the Ride…eventually. But my heart knows it’ll never be the same. Even when my mind knows that putting it on the shelf is the right decision, my heart has yet to be fully convinced. Such is the way of optimists and dreamers, I suppose.
I haven’t even ridden in six weeks: A bad combination of icky weather and pony antics. Both ponies are currently mooching their position on the Equine Disability List for all its worth. It started about a month and half ago, when Beamer got kicked in the shoulder, and flies invaded the tiny little gash on his shoulder. Within a few short days, it had grown to an irritation the size of my palm. Naturally ,this spot is right on the point of his shoulder — an area of constant motion, and an area that’s impossible to keep bandaged and covered.
After several unsuccessful weeks, I started brainstorming. I raided the garage, and the dresser that holds all of my extra tack, for my old show supplies, and one sacrificed Lycra mane tamer later…
I’m working on a very detailed, extensive write-up of my experience crewing at Tevis 2009 and the week-long vacation that was centered around it. My computer and I are at odds, though, and it thought it was funny to eat it. Thank goodness for MSWord Document Recovery, but the thought of having lost the three pages already written took the wind out of my sails, and I need to start back up again.
The short version: I had a grand time crewing for Lucy Trumbull and her pone Roo. She was a wonderful rider to crew for, providing very clear directions and a flexible approach (her words: “This is what I would like to happen, but am not really too particular if it doesn’t”) and Roo was an angel to take care of…cheerfully eating and drinking and not standing on us.
They did get pulled at Chicken Hawk, 64 miles in, when Roo cramped in the hind end. :(
Lucy was still very happy with how they did for their first Tevis, and Roo looked none the worse for the wear. By the next morning, he was cantering around his paddock, eyes sparkling, bossing the other pones around. You’d never know he had just done 64 miles on some of the toughest trail in the country.
Lucy is already talking Tevis 2010. :)
I got a chance to ride the trail from Foresthill to El Dorado Creek (the middle canyon) and back. Pics will be posted in the comprehensive post, but just briefly: I was pleasantly surprised. I’d read the stories and seen the pictures, and was fully expecting the trail to be a lot worse and a lot scarier. I understand that I saw the “easier” parts of the canyons, but I had expected worse. Granted, my perspective was one of a fresh rider and horse, not one who had already gone 46 miles before starting the descent into the canyons, but knowing what the last two climbs are like is encouraging.
I’ll keep chipping away at my crewing story, so look for it appearing in the next several days, most likely over several installments, complete with pictures.
Go Pony • Go the Distance 