“I can’t ride Ledger tomorrow.”

The ride manager’s eyes widened. “What?”

“His back is sore,” I said. “I can’t ride him.”

Indeed, the vet had mentioned some tightness in Ledger’s back when checking him in. He does sometimes get a little sore there, so I wasn’t terribly surprised. When he didn’t trot out with his usual enthusiasm, though, I felt a check in my gut. 

We were pronounced okay to start, but it didn’t feel right.

Just an hour before, I’d had Ledger on the trail for a shakeout ride with a friend. He’d started a little amped, but settled quickly…until we reached a steep downhill with a bit of old paper blowing on the ground.

Despite the wind, Ledger doesn’t normally doesn’t spook at that sort of thing, so it struck me as odd that he seemed edgy all the way down the hill. Unnecessarily jumpy. Weird enough that I eventually got off before he escalated.

As it happened, I was still leading him when we came to a blind corner. My friend’s horse, Rio, was slightly ahead. He was the first to see the cow in the trail. Normally a solid citizen, Rio flipped straight into prey mode. He whirled, unseating his rider, who has been nursing an injured shoulder and wasn’t up to the usual saddle-grab that might have saved her. 

Rio blasted past me and Ledger, who I managed to restrain, and made it a few big strides before my friend hit the ground with a hard thump. I cringed and hustled her way. She was a bit stunned ~ a hard landing on your back will do that ~ but able to say she preferred me to catch her horse than try to doctor her.

Not that she really needed doctoring. She just needed a minute to collect herself, while I collected Rio. No new damage to the shoulder, but damn, that was a hard fall!

Thankfully, my friend was able to stand and hobble in the direction of camp, which was about three miles away. We even mounted up after a while, but shortly thereafter had the good fortune to come across the ride manager in a Kubota, plus another friend who was able to ride Rio back while my injured friend caught a motorized ride. Whew!

So you can see why it took a while for my mind to circle back around to Ledger’s odd behavior on that descent. Eventually, though, I put it together with the vet’s comment about his low-back tightness. Hmm.

My injured friend knows a lot about equine bodywork, and she was kind enough to limp over and take a look. Sure enough, under her gentle touch, Ledger flinched dramatically. Uh-oh.

We discussed the possibility of massaging it out before morning. I pondered it over dinner, but decided it wasn’t worth the risk. No sense starting with a horse that was already uncomfortable.

Which is how I ended up staring back at the ride manager (another good friend), telling her that Ledger and I were out.

“Want to ride Harley?” she said.

I jumped. “Harley?” 

I know Harley. Harley has a reputation. I’ve personally seen several incidents involving riders’ involuntary dismounts from Harley, and heard about quite a few more.

Still. Harley is an amazing horse. He’s strong and fit, fresh off a season that included several 100’s. Besides, he’s mellowed in his later years ~ he’s 19 ~ or so I’m told…

“Will he kill me?” I asked. But I was kidding. I already knew I’d take the offer.

We had a bit of a scramble involving the manager’s husband and a very kind vet, both of whom pulled together to help me get Harley out of his pasture, hoof-booted, and vetted. Though worried about Ledger, I was beyond thrilled to have this surprise opportunity to ride such a cool horse.

Never mind the raised eyebrows as people found out which horse I’d be riding.

“Harley, eh?” they said. Or, “Ohhhh, Harley,” followed by a grimace. And there was the story about how he lawn-darted his rider at the end of an LD last spring…

I only lost a little sleep over it.

Actually, I was considerably less nervous to ride Harley than I would have been to ride Ledger ~ either under normal circumstances, when he’s a monster at the start, or with concern about his back lurking in my mind.

All the same, I was awake when the alarm went off. I managed my usual, light breakfast of instant oatmeal and brown-and-serve sausage, which (despite questionable nutritional value) seems to be what my ride-day stomach prefers.

I grabbed my saddle, which is thankfully the same kind Harley normally goes in, and met the ride manager’s husband for a short truck ride to the ranch. Harley was waiting, ears up and eyes alert. 

We saddled up with only a brief moment of crisis when we discovered that his usual girth is English style, while my saddle is rigged for a Western cinch. I dug through the tack room and came out with an old, felt cinch that was, blessedly, the right length.

I swung astride for a quick, get-acquainted couple miles back to camp. Beyond a few, minor “testing” behaviors, Harley didn’t give me any trouble. He seemed overjoyed to be out for a ride, and his many years of ride camp experience showed. We met up with the friend we’d pre-arranged to ride with, plus another ~ hooray, so fun! ~ and trotted off near the back of the pack as the trail opened.

Harley was forward and powerful as promised, but he didn’t offer any excessive spook or buck. He even motored past the turnoff toward home without hesitation. No lawn-darting! Good start! 

In fact, for the whole 25-mile loop, he gave me no problems.

He did give me a workout, though! Holding that strong boy in with just an S-hack gave me much opportunity to ponder the value of isometric strength training.

Ah, well. That’s what the sport is about, right? Is there anything more thrilling than hovering just out of the saddle, heels anchored, core braced, triceps holding, fingers giving, quadriceps working, as an enthusiastic horse gobbles his way up a steady grade?

All six of us ~ three horses, three riders ~ had a blast and came into the hold looking great. Harley pulsed down immediately and we headed for the vet…who listened to his guts for a long time. Uh-oh…

C+.

C+? I looked over at Harley’s owner. “Normal for him?”

She shook her head.

Hmm.

On the bright side, Harley was soft-eyed and hungry. We agreed to come back for a re-check before leaving on the second loop. Mash, hay, water, electrolytes. Harley spent 25 minutes convincing us that he was fine. 

Upon re-check, his gut sounds were picking up. They hadn’t had time to fully respond to his meal, so we decided the best thing to do was head into the next loop slowly, taking plenty of time to graze on the desert grasses.

We hadn’t done the first loop particularly fast (we were near the back of the pack), but it was nevertheless a prudent time for our trio to slow down. One of the other horses had been a little tight in the hindquarters, and the other had a little swelling in his hind fetlock.

Nobody minded the easy pace. After a difficult spring of wind and late snow, we finally had a beautiful day to enjoy. 

We took our time on the 15-mile loop, got Bs on gut sounds at the next hold, and went into the final 10 miles feeling strong. I learned later that our relaxed pace was just slow enough to cause some worry back in camp, where folks were apparently expecting us to go a little faster. 

Their concern was in vain, however. All three of us finished around 6:00 p.m., having spent ten and a half hours getting our money’s worth out of the ride.

Best of all, I’d managed to keep Harley between myself and the ground. Huzzah! He was an angel, truly, but you’d better believe that I kept my heels down and stayed at least close to light contact on the reins all day. That’s what a reputation like his will do for you!

After riding Harley two miles back to the ranch (for a total of 54 miles), I scrubbed as much sweat and dirt off him as I could before turning him out in his pasture, where he promptly rolled six times, shook mightily, and trotted off with his buddies.

What a guy. What a day. What an honor to be entrusted with a beloved horse, ride with friends, and finally join Mr. Sweaty in packing up for the short drive home.

I often wonder for how many more years endurance will remain feasible, as trail loss and inflation eat away at its viability. But there’s no point borrowing trouble, is there? We only have today…so today, we live!

As for Ledger, I took him to a very experienced endurance-riding vet for a chiropractic workup. She adjusted him and recommended Adequan in the hopes of dealing with whatever underlying issue (hocks?) is aggravating his back/SI.

Additionally, I discovered that the older Bob Marshall I’ve been using is quite a bit more flexible (front to back) than the newer Bob Marshall in my tack room. Hmm. I’ve switched my stirrups and saddlebags over to the newer saddle.

I know, I know, multiple variables. Isn’t that always how it goes when you’re problem-solving mid-season? Fingers crossed that at least one of these things will be just what he needs.