Where do I even begin? I guess I'll start four years ago, when Wendy got Fleuron as a four year old. Fleuron is an Asgard Arabian by Bandjo de Falgas. He was my first up close and personal encounter with the mystical Asgard Arabian. Fleuron was everything I had wanted an Asgard to be: big, athletic, gorgeous, level-headed, personable... and chestnut. I have been itching to sit on him ever since. The more times Wendy and I rode together, the more I fell in love with her big, red horse. When I competed Sterling in the spring, Wendy made an off hand comment along the lines of, "You'll have to try Fleuron next." Yes please!
And then, as I've recapped here a few times, things sort of fell apart on Wendy's end. Fleuron ended up having surgery to have his digital flexor tendon removed. He recovered quickly and completely, but we missed Biltmore. I went with Magic instead, and it was my last completion. Ha. Sterling went on to get Grand Champion at the NJ three day 100, and we were lined up to do NEATO in Rhode Island two weeks later. Unfortunately, Sterling came up sore a few days later and we scratched that plan. We kept trying all season long to get together. Wendy's daughter ended up in the hospital for OD. We tried for Muckleratz, but the ride filled before we got our entries in. And on and on. The cursed season of failed ride plans continued.
At long last, we nailed down a ride, the Hector Half Hundred in the Finger Lakes in NY. It was settled that Wendy would ride Sterling (she's aiming for his versatility award) and I would get to ride Fleuron. Since Wendy is local to a few of my clients, we were able to get together for a handful of conditioning rides beforehand. Fleuron was a total gentleman on these rides, and I was excited to compete him for the first time.
We have been in a serious drought that had left Mike out of work for the time being. As luck would have it, the forecast promised an end to that drought just in time for ride weekend. We kept watching the radar, and the line of storms kept shifting just so. The hope was that the rain would either miss the Finger Lakes entirely, or hold off just long enough to get the ride done.
After a night of thunder storms, Friday dawned clear and bright. Mike and I set up the horses, packed the car, and hit the road. The drive up took a little longer than we anticipated, and I'm glad I had my tablet to get us there, because the ride directions were not very helpful (or accurate).
Along the way, we caught up to Dodie, whose rig I recognized from (half) a mile away. I rolled down the window and made a fool of myself to get her attention, which I think she appreciated. HI DODIE!!!!
Had I known this was going to be the last of the nice weather, I would have stopped to take pictures along the way. We crested a hill to reveal a great view of Seneca Lake. I did some camping and sailing in the Finger Lakes with my parents as a kid, and went for a road trip to the area one winter in college, but I still forgot how beautiful it is up there. We drove past endless vineyards and vistas, and I hoped against hope that the weather would cooperate so I could get some photos of the amazing scenery.
Photo from my college road trip.
Ride camp was situated in a big field behind the firehouse, and we found it easily. The ride was limited to 60 rigs, and they were parking people like sardines. A pink Gator was zipping across the grass to intercept trailers as they came in. I know a lot of people were trailer pooling, but camp was still packed. I think ride management did a great job situating everyone to conserve space while still allowing adequate room for horse pens and traffic flow. I'm sure that having ten horses not show up helped.
Mike and I had beat Wendy to camp, which was our plan all along. Because we were in a car, not a rig, we were able to pick a remote corner of the field to park in temporarily. We were out of the way with a good view of the entrance to camp. We set up our camping chairs, popped open some beers, and sat back relaxing and enjoying the mild weather with the dogs.
You can see how much bigger than Herbie Julio is.
The week before the ride I bought this awesome double dog leash from Fozzy Dog. I am totally loving it, and I think it's going to make walking both dogs simultaneously a lot less of a hassle. Plus, it's perfect for keeping them both contained at rides. Additionally, if you have just one dog on the leash, the extra end makes it super easy to tie to any available post/ring/tree.
About an hour after we arrived, I spotted Wendy's rig coming up the road. I threw the dogs back in the car, and Mike drove over while I met Wendy on foot. We were all ushered over to a fresh spot in camp, and I was delighted to see that we were only two spots over from Dodie (hi again, Dodie!) I had explicit instructions to find Dodie's rig in camp because she had brought the new saddle I bought from Cheryl (thanks Cheryl!) I said hi to Daizy and Steel while Mike and Wendy parked, nose to nose.
Wendy has everything down to a system and doesn't really need help setting the horses up to camp. Mike has a system with all our camping gear as well, so I basically scurried from one to the other to offer a spare set of hands. In short order, we had everything set up and ready to go.
Our tent on the right.
Registration didn't take long, and I got a chance to catch up with Rachel, my friend from No Frills who just did Tevis with her horse! She asked how I was doing and I replied, "Living vicariously through you! How was it? Was it life changing?"
"It was everything it's supposed to be," she told me, and then, dropping her voice added, "But it's also very doable."
With ride packets in hand, we made our way back to the trailer to retrieve the horses. I was thrilled to find a very detailed ride map in the ride packet, but a little worried when I found out that the away hold wouldn't be open until the following morning.
The horses vetted in very well. Sterling's guts were a little quiet, and the vet said his back was touchy. I honestly think he just doesn't like being prodded by strangers. We took a good look at him after the vetting, and didn't find any actual soreness. As for his guts... he was devouring everything in sight and pooping up a storm, so no concerns there either! Probably just the trailer ride over. As for Fleuron... he vetted with A's across the board and was a total gentleman both for the exam and the trot out. I wouldn't expect any less from one of Wendy's horses, but it was refreshing, especially after Magic's antics at the last ride. Meanwhile, I spotted the professional photographer, Carien Schippers from ImagEquine. She was taking photos of the vetting, and got one where you can see how big of an Arabian Fleuron really is (remember, I'm no shorty at 5'7"!)
We passed the time until the ride meeting, and I grabbed my camera for some artsy-fartsy photos of the horses, who were grazing peacefully in their shared pen.
It was the golden hour before the sun went down, and the lighting was perfect. Even putting fly spray on the horses looked magical.
And, of course, I spent some time obsessing over Sterling's perfectly flea bitten coat.
Soon, it was time for the dinner and ride briefing. They fed us at the mess hall in the firehouse, and they fed us extremely well! I am always saying that the real reason I do this sport is for the food, and this ride was no exception. Pulled pork, coleslaw, potatoes, beans. It was a feast! Mike, Wendy, and I ate our feast outside in the grass, where we caught up with some familiar faces from rides past (specifically Big Loop Boogie last year). I was told I should be a comedian after I told some of my hard luck stories. I'm glad other people find them funny :-P
We did go inside for the ride briefing, which is when I spotted Jen, who was there with her stallion, Amir, and her poodle who I haven't seen since she was a puppy. Mike and I snagged some empty seats by the door, but a woman came by a few minutes later and informed us that she had claimed those seats for herself. We vacated quickly, only to spot Dan and Joanna (who rode 80 bee-filled miles with me in Maryland a few years ago) waving us over and saving us a seat.
The briefing was a little lengthy, but full of good humor and important points. Wendy and I were entered in the 55 miler and I paid careful attention to the details since this was my first time doing this ride. HHH has been in existence as a CTR for a decade, but has only recently become AERC sanctioned, which is why I'd never heard of it until last year! Patti Stedman and Karen (with whom we shared a cow barn with at another very rainy ride in Maine) gave us the ins and outs of the ride.
The first loop would be 22 miles (ouch). We would be heading out of camp on the 'common trail', a five and a half mile stretch marked in white ribbon. Apparently a private land owner made this trail
specifically for this ride, which is so kind and generous! This sport would be lost without the generosity of so many people. We would come to the common point, a four way intersection that we would become very familiar with over the course of the day. There we would pick up the pink trail, and ride through public grazing land. We were warned in big, bold letters: WE GOT COWS. The ride meeting focused on this point repeatedly, and we learned that we would be crossing through several cattle gates. Some would be manned by volunteers, but others were DIY. There were some very serious warnings about the cows, and I got to the point where I made a mental note. Carnivorous cows. Check.
The pink loop would eventually throw us back out at the common point, where we would pick up the white trail back into camp for the first hold. Pulse criteria 64. 45 minute hold. Standard stuff. Mike had already set up the in-camp hold.
Loop 2 was 18 miles (ouch again). White to green and out, out, out through the National Forest to the second hold, away at Newell Farm. 64bpm. 45 minutes. Then, Loop 3, (only) 14 miles back through the National Forest and back to the common point. Finish line for the 55's was just outside of camp. Crewing was set up before the final vetting. Pulse criteria 60.
There were a lot of warnings at the meeting, and Mike was starting to look concerned. Watch out for slick pavement. Watch out for the cars speeding haphazardly down the one stretch of road we would be riding over and over again. Watch out for the horse-eating cows and the barbed wire surrounding them, but especially the barbed wire next to the DIY gates. Watch the ruts and the slick grass and the mud. What were we getting ourselves into?
It was dark by the time we wrapped up the ride meeting, and we checked the horses one more time before going to bed. I did grab my camera for some night shots in camp. No matter how old I get or how many of these rides I do (35 now, for anyone wondering) I still think it's so cool that we get to go camping all over the country with our ponies. Twelve year old me is delighted. Plus, the stars up there were incredible.
We checked the forecast one more time before turning out the lantern in our tent. The radar revealed that the rain was hanging out just west of us, and that if we got lucky, we might be done riding before it hit.
Unfortunately, as soon as my head hit the pillow, I heard the deep, wet cough of a horse choking. I waited for it to pass, but it just kept on going and going. I listened closely and determined that it wasn't one of our horses or Dodie's. In the mean time, Dodie had gotten up and talked to the horse's owner. Apparently he does this 'all the time'. The horse went on to ride the next day and got a completion, but it was hours before the coughing stopped. I can sleep through the stirrings and neighings of a ride camp, no problem, but I couldn't get any shut eye as long as I could hear this horse in distress. Once he stopped, however, I fell into a deep sleep, and didn't wake until morning.
The sunrise on Saturday was incredible, but I muttered under my breath.
"Red skies at morning, sailors take warning..."
Wendy and I got the horses tacked up while Mike checked us in with the timer. I have to admit, I was pretty jittery by this point, which was totally unlike me before this year. My two rough starts with Magic have put a serious dent in my confidence, and I definitely associate the start with bad times. Thankfully, Wendy and I have similar thoughts on the starting process, and we waited until the trail was open before we even got on the horses. Fleuron stood like a saint while I swung on board and got my good luck kiss from Mike. Sterling was prancing a little bit, but not nearly as much as he did when I rode him at his first ride in the spring. (Seriously, I have had some rough ride starts this year.)
We were not last out of camp, but we were towards the back of the pack. We rounded the corner at the edge of camp, and I could see the other horses ahead of us on the hill leading through the vineyards and out to the corn field. Some of the horses were acting up and looking pretty strong, but for the most part, it was a quiet start. Fleuron jigged a little bit, but as soon as I remembered to breathe, he came back down to a lovely walk. Wendy had her hands a little bit full for the first few miles, but aside from some cantering in place, Sterling didn't do much that was exciting. Good boys!
As we came out of camp for the first time, we passed the ride photographer, Carien Schippers of Imagequine. She managed to get some stunning photos, and you can catch a glimpse of the lake in the background.
Used with purchase, of course.
We rode out on the common trail, past the cornfields and an algae-covered pond, then into the woods on some gorgeous single track.
It wasn't long before we ran into a slight problem. We were on private property, along the edge of a fenced pasture. That was where we ran into the first of many cows for the day. The cows were lying quietly under the trees in the pasture, a stone's throw away from the trail, not bothering anybody or moving much at all. There are some large cows who live across the street from Wendy's barn, but neither Fleuron nor Sterling has any experience with them up close. To our relief, neither horse so much as batted an eye at the peaceful bovines.
The horse directly in front of us, however, had a major melt down. We came riding up just in time to hear the rider hit the ground. I guess the rider managed to keep a hold of the reins, and I could see him struggling to get to his feet while keeping a grip on his panicking horse. It was a battle he lost in the end, and the horse tore the reins from his hands and galloped off. At the end of the cow pasture, the trail went right, but the loose horse veered left and followed the farm driveway back toward camp.
"Yikes..." I mumbled, digging in my pocket* for my phone**. I texted Mike to let him know that there was a loose horse on trail, and that it wasn't one of us.
*I recently bought a pair of Kerrits IceFill tights specifically because they have pockets. I am 100% in love with these pants for distance riding. The fabric is lightweight but strong. The pockets are deep and sturdy, unlike the winter breeches, which tend to develop holes in the pockets in no time flat. I love the lack of knee patch, and despite the full seat pattern, they aren't true full seats. This works for me because I can't stand full seats.
**It was lovely to have cell phone reception at a ride for a change.
Long story short, they eventually caught the horse, and the rider re-mounted and went on to earn a completion. I love this sport.
From there we rode down a short stretch of road, where we saw some draft horses pressing against a fence that I wasn't convinced would hold them.
The road eventually came to a dead end with a pretty impressive abandoned bridge. Of course, I failed to get any pictures of that. We rode down a series of switchbacks and through a dried up creek bed. After the creek, there was a steep up hill climb, the only serious climb of the day. The trail was already slick with mud, and I turned to Wendy and said, "Well, this is going to be fun by the end of the day."
After the hill, we emerged into a big, open field of goldenrod, and then onto the stretch of road that we'd been warned about at the ride meeting. It was one of the busier roads in the area, but the first time we came through, it was still early enough that there wasn't much traffic. The scariest parts of this stretch were the cones marking the way (the horses were not thrilled) and the slick, new pavement (Sterling kept insisting that he wanted to trot on the pavement instead of next to it, and it was Wendy's turn to not be thrilled). Eventually, we made a right onto Ball Diamond Rd. (the same road that camp was on) and were back to alternating between old pavement and gravel. Fleuron did throw one major spook at a drainage ditch, which was harboring some pretty terrifying lawn equipment, but we otherwise made good time.
By the time we reached the common point a few minutes later, we had settled into a wonderful rhythm. Wendy's horses are extremely well matched, and travel together nicely. Every time one would get tired of leading, the other would be eager to take his turn for a while. We leap frogged together all day long, and it made for easy riding in that respect.
At the common point, the horses drank deeply (hooray drinking only five miles in!) and I took the time to snap a photo of the view behind us. I only wish it had been a clear day.
From there, we took off on the pink loop, the longest loop of the day. We picked up the No-Tan-Takto Trail and the Interloken Trail (red and yellow on this map).
Most of this trail featured public grazing land. It wasn't long before we came upon our first DIY gate for the day. We would become very familiar with these gates as the day went on. It was interesting to see the horses who obviously practice this sort of thing at home tackling these obstacles. The riders who were able to open and close the gates without dismounting definitely saved a lot of time during this ride! I did open one gate from Fleuron's back, but couldn't manage to shut it again. I suspect that's a me issue, though, and not one related to the horse. Regardless, Wendy and I wound up taking turns dismounting at each gate to make our way through.
We did pass a few herds of cattle on this stretch of trail. They were mostly black angus, and they pretty much kept to themselves. Wendy and I did hear one cow mooing from the treeline next to us, and it was a little close for comfort, but the horses weren't bothered. Mostly, I just enjoyed the lovely views.
There was a water stop on this loop, in a trail head parking lot. There, we were met by a slew of wonderful volunteers who were handing out water bottles and fresh-picked apples. If there's one thing that I can say about this ride, it's that it was full of awesome volunteers. They had a ton of spotters out on trail, and most of the gates on the first loop had people opening and closing them for us. I called a cheerful, "Thank you for being out here!" to every one that we passed. Rides like this couldn't run without these good souls.
A volunteer holding Sterling for Wendy.
Spotters pointing the way to the next stretch of trail.
This is also where we started to see some two way traffic on trail. The front running 50's were coming back in as we were heading out on the overlapping stretches. I was thrilled to see Angela and Skip riding near the front. Angela was in a huge group of riders. We tried to high five as we passed, but Fleuron was pretty offended by the onslaught of bright, flapping colors and opted out. Haha.
This section of trail also featured some gorgeous single track through the forest at the edges of the pasture. The clouds were gathering in earnest by this point, so I didn't get much in the way of photos.
Next thing I knew, we had come back through the water stop and were following Potomac Rd. back in the direction of the common point. This was a lovely, open stretch of gravel road, and Wendy and I opened the horses up into a canter. We had been cantering on and off in the less rutted stretches of cow pasture, but this was our first sustained canter of the day. The horses made short work of the open gravel roads, and we were soon back on single track, passing head on horse traffic as we went.
A good place to make good time.
The last bit of the pink trail overlapped with some of the orange trail, which was being ridden by the Intro Distance riders. At one point, we passed a pair of girls who looked a little rattled. I asked them if they were ok.
"Well.... we survived, so I guess so," one of them replied..
"Survived what?" I was wondering if we should be concerned.
"The cows who wanted to play..."
O boy...
Well, the girls weren't kidding! The last stretch of the pink trail went through a pasture full of Holstein cattle. It wasn't long before we realized that the cows were actually lying on the trail.
"Umm..."
Fleuron held it together pretty well, and we approached the cows quietly and cautiously. Everything was just fine, until one of the mostly-white cows walked over and tried to touch my horse! Fleuron displayed some really impressive lateral maneuvers. I managed to stay on him, but decided that enough was enough, and hopped down as soon as he came close to standing still.
Too friendly, cows. Too friendly.
Once we were out of the cow pasture, we were back at the common point, and we made good time back to ride camp. Down the road, through the goldenrod, down the increasingly interesting hill, and back to the corn fields. I texted Mike to let him know we could see camp and would be right in.
Mike met us at the in timer with camera in hand, and snapped some great shots before grabbing our cards and getting us checked in.
Mike had gotten everything set up perfectly, of course, and we got the horses stripped and sponged in record time. Fleuron was guzzling water and devouring everything in sight. He had also peed on trail, which was great. The horses pulsed down right away, and both of them vetted clean. Fleuron scored all A's across the board, and set right back to eating, eating, eating.
Despite a very long first loop, I was feeling good. Mike brought me a sandwich and some GoGurt, my new favorite hold snack. By this point, the temperature had dropped and I donned a jacket to keep from getting sore and chilled.
After an uneventful hold, we electrolyted and tacked back up. W were ready to go out 45 minutes later. Mike gave me another good luck kiss, and Wendy commented on what a sweetheart he is. On the way out, I was surprised to see Angela and Skip still in camp. I later found out that Skip's horse had come up lame. Thankfully, removing his pads and icing the foot had helped, and they were allowed to continue.
We started back out on the common trail. I quickly decided that wearing a jacket had been a mistake, and found a way to stow the whole thing inside my saddle bags.
When we got to the base of the big hill, my jaw dropped. It was a mud slide, and the trail was completely torn up. I got up in my half seat, grabbed some mane, and urged Fleuron up. He dug in deep and powered up the hill like a pro. I was very impressed, and was actively cheering him on. What a good, good boy.
From the common point, we picked up the green loop, which started us out past the overly friendly dairy cows. This time, I dismounted as soon as we were in the pasture.
To give you an idea of how close the cows were, I dug up this photo from HHH last year:
Not me and not my photo.
At one point, I caught a glimpse of a herd of cows stampeding in the distance. As they crested the hill ahead of us, I remember thinking, "I hope there are no riders up there..."
This time, we were on the Backbone Trail. A lot of this trail ran along the outside of the cow pasture, which meant we were on a single track with the treeline on one side and barbed wire on the other. I was just hoping nothing spooked the horses into the fence. I heard that one rider's horse jumped sideways and her sponge got ripped off her saddle. She also ripped her chaps on the barbed wire, but her horse was unharmed. Yikes!
Soon we emerged onto National Forest road. Here, Wendy and I made really good time. We picked up a canter and maintained that gait, switching leaders periodically. We passed a lot of people on this loop, including Jen and her stallion. It turns out they were the riders in front of the stampeding cattle, and Jen had used her horse to turn the herd away! Wow.
Eventually, we wound off the gravel road and back into the forest. This was probably my favorite part of the trail all day. We rode through seemingly endless groves of red pine, and the forest was absolutely stunning. Once again, it was too dark for photos, but I marveled at the beauty around us. This part of the trail was pretty technical and we slowed to a walk for a lot of it.
At the end of the forest, we picked up the trot again, and passed a series of ponds before dipping back into the woods.
By this point it was drizzling on and off, and I had a feeling that our luck with the weather had run out. The miles started to drag and my body started to ache. I deal with a pretty significant amount of chronic pain in my leg, and especially my knee, as it is, but any sort of damp, cold weather really doesn't help. I was very sore by the time I spotted Newell Farm, the location of the second hold, through the trees below. I could see Mike's car parked in a field, and it gave me a second wind. Unfortunately, we still had to wind around field after field for about two more miles before we actually turned for the hold. That was the point in the ride at which I thought, "I would gladly settle for just 50 miles and cut out that section..."
Still, we looked cheery as we trotted into the hold.
Once again, the horses were eating and drinking up a storm. They both stopped to pee before we headed over to pulse. I was delighted when both geldings were down right away, but that delight was short lived. It turns out there was only one vet at the away hold, and the line was really starting to build. We got lucky and only spent half of our hold time waiting on the vetting. I know Dodie and a few other people were stuck in line for their entire hold and didn't get to rest at all.
Fleuron, once again, did very well at this hold. He did get distracted by the herd of horses living on the hill behind the farm, and his CRI wasn't great as a result, but he scored well on the rest of his card, and was more worried about eating than anything else. Good boy.
Mike fed me again, and I gobbled down some ibuprofen before elyting Fleuron and climbing back on board.
By this point, it had started to rain in earnest, and we were all drenched by the time we rode up to wait for our out time. I guess I looked like I needed a pep talk because one of the timers assured me that the last loop was mostly a straight shot back to camp on gravel road.
Our out time came, and we rode back out into the fields behind the farm. The skies opened up and it started to pour. I'm not sure who was less amused... me or Fleuron. The poor horse was holding his ears flat in an attempt to keep the water out, but the driving rain kept hitting his face, and he shook his head in protest on a few occasions. I patted his sopping neck and told him, "I'm sorry buddy... we'll be under tree cover soon..."
The last fourteen miles are sort of a blur. I had standing water in my supposedly waterproof Ariat Terrains (boots which, by the way, I totally adore otherwise). I did warm up once we got moving, but my jacket clung to my skin. Worst of all, my stirrup leathers were bruising my shins, and the pain was becoming too much. I'm not sure why this happened on this ride. I compete in my saddle all the time and it has never been an issue. Maybe it has to do with the many down hill stretches and the fact that my stirrups were wet and slick. I don't know. Either way, I spent most of the loop alternating between trying not to focus on my burning shins, and trying to find ways to take the pressure off of them. The first thing I did when I got home was put my stirrup leathers under my saddle flap (thank you, Wintec!) but it was too little too late for this ride.
Wendy and I didn't talk much on this last loop. I think we were both focused on just getting to the finish line. Still, the horses continued to work well in unison, and we made quick work of the gravel roads.
When we reached the common point, the horses were still going strong. I felt better knowing that camp was only five and a half miles away.
At long last, it came time to do the slippery hill one more time. With the added rain, it was really treacherous. As we approached, the riders in front of us disappeared into the treeline, and I heard an echoing, "Woohooohoooooooooooooo!!!" The woman in front of us turned around in her saddle and gulped. I held Fleuron back so we would have plenty of space to navigate this last obstacle.
I urged Fleuron over the edge, and he pricked his ears and stepped forward. Two steps later, he dropped his haunches and sat. We slid down the hill like something out of Extreme Riding School in Croatia, then turned 90 degrees to the right and slid again. Fleuron handled it like a pro, and I was thankful for his sure footedness. Good boy!
Wendy and I continued to pick riders off on our way to camp, and when the finish line came into sight, we picked up the pace and galloped in.
When the timer took our cards, we found out that we had crossed in 15th and 16th place! I was thrilled. About forty riders had started in the 55, and we had been riding for completion not placings. We had done so well!
Mike snapped some more photos as we came into camp, and the horses felt phenomenal. Fleuron felt sluggish for half a second, but it turned out he had to pee, and as soon as he was done, he was raring to go some more.
Soaked after 55 miles.
Mike got the rain sheets on the horses before we even pulled their tack off. Fleuron and Sterling set to work on their grain while Wendy and I removed their saddles and Fleuron's bell boots. We walked right over to the P&R area, where both horses pulsed down right away.
And then the wait began. Once again, there was only one vet checking horses. She made some funny remark about the fact that the other vets were hiding under the roof to get out of the rain. I think it was supposed to be a light hearted comment, but I was furious.
After what felt like ages, it was time to trot. We went down and back and the vet frowned. "He's off in his right hind," she told me.
"What?!?! He felt perfect at the finish... How lame is he?"
"Lame enough that I need to get a second opinion."
Another vet came to watch him trot, and concurred that he was off in his right hind.
The rest of his vetting revealed A's across the board, and a giant knot in his haunches.
He had cramped up waiting to be seen.
I feel like such a poor sport whenever I talk about this. Pulls happen, and it's not like me to point fingers at anyone but myself. It wouldn't be a sport if you won all the time, and if it was easy, everyone would do it. But, in this situation, I really feel like I got robbed. Maybe I should have done more to keep Fleuron moving while we waited. Maybe he would have cramped even if we got in right away. I'm not sure. But, at the end of the day, I feel like the wait at the end killed us.
We got forty minutes to come back, and Mike spent that time massaging Fleuron under the rain sheet. He worked and worked at the knot, and it decreased significantly. I hand walked Fleuron and backed him up and turned his haunches.
We went back to re-present, and I could tell he was moving a lot better. In fact, Mike and Wendy both say he looked sound. The vets disagreed however, and I did not get my completion. I should have asked them to trot him so I could see how he was moving, but I didn't want to torture the poor horse any more. He deserved to go back to his pen with a warm blanket and eat his grain.
So, for the third time in a row, I got pulled at the finish. If there's one thing I've learned this season, it's how to accept defeat. Still, I walked away from the vetting feeling pretty bitter.
We got the horses squared away and I did my best to dry off. Then, we wandered down to the firehouse for dinner. We had to wait a while for awards because a few riders were still on trail. It turns out that Angela and skip were among them. Angela later told me of their ordeal of a day. It was her first time having bad luck in this sport, and it just kept piling up as the miles went on. Still, they both completed and I was thrilled for them.
We had grand plans of hanging out and catching up and drinking mud slides, but as soon as we got back to our tent with the horses tucked away for the night, I knew I was done. The rain seemed to be never ending, and I was stiff and tired and cranky. Mike and I snuggled the dogs and drank some beer, then called it an early night.
I slept pretty hard that night, but did wake up in the middle of the night to FIREWORKS going off in the pouring rain. I think everyone started awake thinking, "WTF?!?!" but we all got lucky and not a single horse got loose as a result of whatever was going on behind ride camp.
Thankfully, the rain stopped by morning. I woke up extremely sore, and my shins were swollen from my stirrup leathers. I haven't been that sore since 2013, when Diesel and I basically galloped 50 miles straight as my first ride back after my broken leg. I don't know if the rain was a contributing factor or if it had to do with all the road riding, but I was a pretty sorry sap for the next few days. Ouch.
We helped Wendy get everything wrapped up. As I keep mentioning, she has a heck of a system and she was loaded up and ready to go in no time.
Once Wendy left, Mike and I broke down our camp, packed the car, and got the dogs out for one last walk.
I walked down to say goodbye to Angela before hitting the road, only to have Skip insist that I needed to come inside for a cup of coffee. By the time Mike pulled the car around, Skip was in the process of making breakfast for all four of us. Eggs, bacon, waffles, fruit... I was in heaven.
We spent a long time exchanging stories. I was feeling pretty sorry for myself with my abyssmal completion rate this year. As I told Mike on the ride up, I'm not sure I actually remember what it feels like to complete. I jokingly said that I think I'm cursed this season, and that sent Skip off on a tangent.
I should have known that all I needed to do to feel better about my luck was to talk to a more experienced rider.
Skip went on in detail about his cursed season.. 2009... which started with endless trailer trouble that left his stranded in multiple states, and ended with the infamous loss of his mare, Ice Joy, at Tevis.
The four of us sat around for well over an hour, and Skip had a lot of insight on a lot of things. He has a lot of people catch ride for him, so he understands my somewhat unique perspective on the sport (because, for better or worse, it's not my horse I'm competing). The conversation lifted my spirits and backed me away from the precipice of, "Maybe I should just quit this lunacy."
Eventually (and sadly) it was time to hit the road. For some reason, Mike and I made much better time on the way back to NJ, and we were home and unpacked with plenty of daylight to spare.
Despite the fact that I didn't get my completion (and that I've know had four pulls on three horses for three different reasons) it was a great weekend. The trails were stunning. Except for the bullshit at the vettings, the ride was very well run. The trail markers were great. The food was delicious. Our tend held up for torrential downpours that seemed to never quit. The dogs behaved. The horses behaved. I would still call it a victory.
The rest of my ride season is still very much up in the air, but I'm hoping to find a positive note to go out on...