Day 1: Catching a Ride
Hercules jumped when I went to mount.
I looked to his mom. “Not normal?”
“Definitely not normal.”
She handed me her mare’s reins and started Hercules herself. He shifted away.
Nope, not normal. Lindsay looked at each other with concern. This wasn’t how we wanted our ride – my third time on her lovely boy DWA Hercules – to begin!
We abandoned our warmup and went back to camp, where the Day 1 50s were just ten minutes from departure. At the trailer, we stripped his tack and Lindsay put it all back on. Maybe I’d done something differently than usual?
Lindsay mounted up. No problem.
I mounted up. Again, no problem.
So Hercules and I, and Lindsay and her mare Biscuit, and Lindsay’s daughter and her girl Diva all headed to the start just as the trail opened. We actually got out of camp first because it was a small group with no real hotshoes in sight.
Since our warmup had been cut short, we picked up a slow jog for the first couple miles and let nearly all the other riders pass. By the time we arrived at the first real hill, our horses felt ready to roll.
Over a creek (Hercules jumped it, but I was warned!), through a scenic scatter of boulders, up to a view of the mountains, and around to the farthest point of the first loop. Through minor bogs, up a short stretch of gravel, and back onto sandy two-track.
Somewhere in here, Hercules grew impatient with our pace. Much too slow, in his expert opinion! He was fresh off his recovery from the 50 at Nevada Derby three weeks ago, and made sure we all knew that he could definitely cover ground faster.
He hopped a little, nothing terrible, and then settled into a head-tossing routine that kept me busy walking that tightrope between keeping his antics under wraps and staying out of his face as much as possible.
I was focused on managing Hercules as we reached the bottom of a sidehill, when Lindsey called out something about a charging cow.
Wait, what?
I looked up and, sure enough, here came a mama cow galloping over the hilltop straight toward us.
Hercules’ head went up like a giraffe, but he held his ground…barely!
Lindsay’s mare spun. She lost her stirrups as Biscuit took off down the steep hill, away from the cow. Lindsay slipped off and hit the ground, but managed to keep ahold of the reins.
I saw none of this, because I was still trying to hold Hercules together. The cow kept coming, and Lindsay yelled for me and her daughter to jump off. I’d been about to do exactly that, in any case. I managed to land on my feet, reins in hand, just as Hercules tried to run.
Thankfully, no horses got loose and nobody was seriously hurt. Nevertheless, we all walked a quarter mile to the creek before getting back on.
Now, Hercules was even more impatient. C’mon, humans! Step it up!
Riding through his goofiness – which didn’t feel dangerous, but took some effort to deal with – was made harder by the fact that I was riding in an unfamiliar saddle, quite different from my own, with stirrups that I should have dropped by one more hole.
Plus, Hercules is a big, tall, beautiful boy with a significantly wider barrel than the horses I’ve been riding. The upshot was that my calves and quads were feeling the burn before we even got to the first hold.
We had to pull tack for the vet, which took a bite out of our 40 minute break. But, all six of us managed to get some food in before hitting the trail right on schedule. Loop 2 was much easier, aboard a happier Hercules, as we trotted the deceptively-challenging foothills trails.
My legs made sure I understood that they were grouchy about the unfamiliar tack, but the discomfort became more manageable as Hercules chilled out. Thank goodness, because 50 miles is a long way to ride even without aches and strain.
And what a fun boy to ride! When we did get to a point where we could relax into a medium trot, he settled into his lovely stride and let me just post along with ease. Whew!
The second loop passed without incident, and then the third. We arrived in camp to take fifth, sixth, and seventh place (which isn’t as impressive as it sounds since only eleven riders started and nine completed), but hey, we had a fun day and Diva took High Vet Score.
It’s such a privilege to have the opportunity to ride a great quality, kind, athletic horse like Hercules. I learn something from every horse I catch ride, and every owner I catch ride for, and I’m always so very grateful.
And yet…the weekend had more gifts yet to come!
Day 2: Kokopelli's First Limited Distance Ride
On Day 2, I was set to ride my youngster, Kokopelli, in his first LD. Not only that, but I was to share the adventure with a friend I haven’t seen in way too long.
Paige would be riding Sister Sweaty’s young horse in his first LD…on her first LD…making me the only one of the group with any endurance experience. And I was already quite sore from the unaccustomed tack on Day 1. What could possibly go wrong?
Our morning started quietly enough. Koko and Titan stood calmly for tacking up. The clock was just starting to feel too fast when we discovered that Titan’s hooves needed a trim in order to get his boots on.
No problem.
Sister Sweaty’s husband was nearby, and he normally works on all her horses’ feet.
Okay, problem.
Titan had a little blowup during the attempted trim. He managed to whack his would-be trimmer’s arm hard enough to do damage, and we abandoned the attempt. These are trails that I know well and Titan normally travels barefoot. We’d just go without boots and slow down in a few places.
After a little in-hand warmup (to be on the safe side with the green horses), Paige and I set out behind all the other teams in that day’s ride. We mounted up shortly with no trouble, and proceeded to jog up the hill just like the day before.
We were just trotting along and catching up on all eachothers’ life news when we spotted four horses blasting up the trail behind us. Where did they come from??
We dismounted to be on the safe side, but Koko and Titan actually handled the riders coming up behind without drama. Turned out the riders had missed a turn early on.
Back in last place, Paige and I resumed our relaxed pace over the rolling hills. We trotted where we could, walked where we had to – pretty standard stuff for both of these horses’ conditioning rides at this early point in their careers.
We’d gone maybe 6 miles when Titan slipped in a muddy spot. Nothing major, nothing every horse in the ride hadn’t done at least once. But within a quarter mile, Paige called from behind, “Hey, is he lame?”
Uh-oh. I looked over my shoulder. Head bob. Right front. Dang it!
We slowed to a walk and continued up the hill. Maybe he just needed a moment. But when we trotted again, the lameness was still there. Slight, but definitely there.
Paige dismounted. I handed her a hoof pick and she checked his feet. Nothing.
Darn. That would have been the easy answer!
She mounted back up. Trotted. Still slightly off.
We walked a short stretch. Trotted. Is he better? Yes! Looking better!
And then…nope. There it is again.
We began to discuss options. Less than a mile away, we’d hit the road that would take Paige and Titan easily back to camp. She could walk him in. Or, they could attempt to go on with me and Titan. There would be more opportunities to cut back to the road, though none as simple as this one for someone who didn’t know the area.
We trotted a few more times and concluded that although it was more noticeable sometimes than others, Titan was definitely off.
Gah! You hate to pull someone’s first-time horse, especially with a first-time rider. The lameness was so minor that it was a tough decision, but Paige and I agreed to err on the safe side. We parted ways where the trail turned away from the road.
Koko actually drank quite a bit of water from the tank at the intersection while Titan walked away, but he got upset when he realized I was asking him to move off in the other direction. Rather than get into a fight, I chose to get off and run with him.
It was a message to “focus now, let’s go!” and he caught on pretty quickly. I mounted up again within half a mile and we were back in business. Good thing, too, because our slow start had me watching the clock. We’d have to step it up in order to finish on time.
Just as we were hitting our groove along the ridgeline, I spotted a side-by-side zooming up the trail. A moment later, a couple dismounted riders came into view. Uh-oh…
Sure enough, the trail led me and Koko straight to a trio of riders, one of whom was on the ground, clearly injured. My heart sunk. This was a friend, who had been out with a couple other friends. I later learned that her horse had bucked her off.
Ugh. But they had a plan, enough water, and help from camp already there with a vehicle. After checking that there was nothing I could do, Koko and I rode on.
He didn’t protest much about leaving the other horses, but within a mile he began acting strangely. He kept twisting his head around, usually to the left, as if to nip at an itch.
I hopped off and checked the girth for pinching. Nothing.
I got back on, asked for a trot, and got more of the same behavior. Koko was clearly frustrated and trying to tell me something.
Maybe the pad? It had slid back a bit… So I dismounted again, loostened the girth, and shimmied the pad forward.
Back aboard. Same behavior.
This made me nervous, because Koko does have a few buck-offs in his history. I’ve mostly gotten past my concern that he’ll do it with me…but not quite. We’re still getting to know each other.
I’d seen this exact behavior from him before, but not in quite a while and definitely not this bad. Hmm.
With one eye on my watch, I dismounted yet again. I reached under the pad and scratched his back, which he clearly loved. Hmm.
But alas, when I mounted up, he still wanted to trot in a C shape with his head to the left and his ribs to the right. Occasionally, he’d try swinging around the opposite way.
I got off again and ran with him. He came along, perfectly sound and willing…at least, until we passed a cutoff that would have taken us straight to camp. Because we’ve conditioned on these trails, Koko knew exactly where we were, and he had an opinion about which way we ought to go.
That turned the last couple miles of the loop into a discussion. I spent about half of it mounted and trying to straighten him out without driving him past the edge of his frustration, and the other half running beside him to make time because he couldn’t seem to trot without the mysterious issue bothering him.
I did note that he mostly forgot to be bothered as soon as we were pointed directly back into camp. A useful data point. Noted.
By this time, I’d formed a theory that he wasn’t a fan of the Equipedic pad I’d decided to use that day for its more robust foam inserts. Although I’d used it with him before, lately I’d had him in a Skito pad. Although the Equipedics are great quality and I’ve ridden hundreds of miles with them, maybe they just didn’t agree with Koko.
Thank goodness I’d thrown my Skito in at the last moment, just to have the option. We could switch at the hold.
I was surprised and delighted to find Paige waiting to crew for us when we arrived, trailing well behind the pack by this point. Koko vetted well, but sputtered out on eating his mash shortly after starting. He didn’t want any alfalfa, either. Or a cookie.
And Koko ALWAYS wants a cookie.
Concerned, though he showed no sign of distress – just mild distraction – Paige and I took Koko for a meander slightly away from camp. Within minutes, he began to graze. Whew!
By the time we needed to tack back up (this time with the Skito pad), Koko was happy to eat alfalfa and cookies. He hadn’t had a big drink yet, but I felt safe taking him out for another loop.
I wasn’t sure how long we’d be out there, though.
I anticipated reluctance leaving camp, a discussion about passing that same cutoff back to camp again, possible continued behavior/physical issues, and who knows what else.
And then there was time. We’d definitely have to increase our pace from Loop 1 – by quite a bit – to have a chance of finishing on time.
Ah well, the most important things were to enjoy the ride and make this a positive, educational experience for Koko. If we finished late after a good day, then a good day would be good enough – overtime pull notwithstanding.
I did grab a dressage whip for the second loop – not to speed Koko up, but because he responds well to a tap on the butt or shoulder when he starts to ask questions about who’s calling the shots. Having checked all the obvious physical possibilities for his behavior on Loop 1, I wanted a full toolkit to address the issue behaviorally on Loop 2.
To my surprise, Koko took off at a brisk trot and even offered to canter away from camp. Wheee! He was totally under control, but had a new fire under him that I didn’t expect.
As my longtime endurance mentor would have asked, “Who put a quarter in his slot?”
Whatever the answer, Koko rocked and rolled down the road, up a sand draw, and along the ridge. We did have a little disagreement at the cutoff, but he gave up soon enough and carried on at a steady trot.
And the C-shape behavior? He considered it a few times, but much less dramatically than before. Just a tap with the dressage whip brought his attention back, and after a few miles he never tried it again. We were moving together now, having fun!
But, we were also in a hurry.
Despite the protestations of my sore legs, I dismounted to run down the long, gradual hills so we could cover ground more quickly with less strain on Koko. We’ve run together quite a bit, and he’s so short that getting back on is easy, making this an efficient way for us to travel.
And then, we arrived at the bank of the creek. Perhaps 15 feet wide, I knew it would be belly-deep on Koko. Although we’d crossed once before, a week ago, rainfall had raised the water level considerably.
Koko’s solution was to try to drink the entire creek. Ha! Check that box – hydration refill complete!
Now to cross… I gave him a little nudge… and he motored right through without a moment’s hesitation. I had to lift my feet to keep my boots dry, but Koko plowed fearlessly all the way to the other side. Such a good boy!
And then we were off again, alternating between a walk and trot, plus an occasional short canter, as the footing dictated. Another crossing – long but shallow this time – up to the ridge, down the other side, and then onto the final leg.
Forty-four minutes left.
It was only a few miles, but this was not a fast section of trail. The steep climbs and descents, riddled with holes and dried cow tracks, would force us to walk a lot. Again, I dismounted to run the more gradual downhills to make time.
Tick…tick…tick…
Up one hill, down the other side. Up another, down again. Climbing, descending, grabbing grass along the way.
Finally, FINALLY, the last hill came into sight. We crested it. I dismounted and ran beside Koko to the road. He looked happy and bright as I got back on once more for the final mile into camp.
We zoomed down the road and…ta da! Arrived with seven minutes to spare. We pulled tack and pulsed down easily.
That’s as close as I’ve ever come to going overtime! The only other time I’ve even worried about it was over a decade ago at Bandit Springs. But our private race against the clock wasn’t stressful. It was fun! A low-stakes challenge that Koko clearly enjoyed.
He vetted with all A’s, then settled down to a bowl of mash and hay. I grabbed a camp chair and watched him eat – my sweet, tough, quirky little horse of unknown origin and promising future.
Here’s to thousands of miles together, Partner.
As for the injured rider, Life Flight was called. I don’t have details (nor are they mine to share). My understanding at this point is that she has some broken bones but nothing extremely serious. Sending out my best to you, Friend!
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