TABLE OF CONTENTS

Page One

Page Two:

June, 2003: The Brookfield Adventure
(AKA: "Hand over the rubber boots and no one will get hurt!")

July, 2003: Pine Tree 50
(AKA: "That's not MY turtle!!")

July, 2003: A Weekend With Deadeye Zelda ("Yee Haw!")

July, 2003: The Bear

August, 2003: Near Disaster!

September, 2003: Streaked Mountain 30

October, 2003: Crooked River 30

Page Three

Page Four

Page Five

I left my house at 4am on Friday, and pulled out of the barnyard an hour later. Twelve hours, five tanks of gas, and 550 miles later, I pulled into Brookfield’s Assembly Area. (Three words about the ride: books on CD!!!) I was immediately greeted by a bunch of people whose eyes shone with recognition… I hugged them tightly, already knowing them before I even knew their real names.

The rigs:

I thought we were packed in like sardines, but I’ve been told that on a FULL weekend, you can barely walk between the trailers. Glad I missed it!

Refuge from the Deluge:

Evilgirl and her father set up their awning, and another canopy next to it. With a couple picnic tables under it, and a couple of portable propane grills and stoves, plus the rain making the benches at the ends wet, there wasn’t a whole lot of room to sit. That’s why Mark ended up in a folding chair, in an unfortunate spot… the wind came up and dumped all the puddled water from the canopy onto him! I wasn’t there yet when that happened, but I heard it was a riot.

We started up the grills, and everyone cooked their own dinner. Except Hollowfarm, whom we never actually SAW eating ANYTHING. <wink> I brought the pendants along, so folks could pick through and decide what they wanted. As soon as I’d finished eating, I passed the word that tours of “the bead room” would be given immediately. (People had been asking me since I’d arrived, whether I had this color or that color.) In 2s and 3s they came to the dressing room of my trailer, and we proceeded to get the floor so muddy we couldn’t see the mats anymore (thank heavens for the foresight that made me put those mats over the carpet!!!). By the time I went to bed around 1am, I’d made a whole BUNCH of necklaces. <grin> Plus a human necklace for Comanche’s younger daughter, and a dog collar for Brittany.

The fruits of my labors:

Speaking of Brittany…:

She sat up there between Horsenaround and her boyfriendMark, just like she was a person, and squinted her eyes, looking around her without moving her head. It was the most adorable thing!

It rained hard on Friday night. I went to bed around 1am and woke again around 3 to the sounds of people talking quietly a few feet from me. They were discussing the fact that Larry’s horse is a Houdini with knots! He’d escaped his stall, and was wandering around camp munching on grass. Glad he decided not to trample our tents! Hollowfarm and I would have been displeased. She was already upset enough about the darn cat that meowed outside our tents after we went to bed, and just an hour later we’d both be annoyed silly by the rooster who decided to crow BEFORE the sun came up… Not to mention Vera’s horse, who squealed every few minutes all night long. <wink> Good thing I’ve had practice ignoring my friend Traci’s mare, who SCREAMS every few minutes, all night long!! By the way, I never did hear Hollowfarm sing in her sleep…

Saturday morning, it was still raining. I was frustrated about that, and a tad bored, so I ate even more than usual. Bagel, banana, 2 hardboiled eggs, cottage cheese, and juice. Finished that by 6am, and it was still raining. We all sat around and complained about it, joking about piling in the van and going to WalMart for 17 pairs of rubber boots. Until around 10am, when it slowed to a light misty rain. Some of us looked at each other and said darnit, we won’t melt! <wink> Can’t remember for certain who all went on that ride, but I know it was at least me, Hollowfarm, Evilgirl, her dad Larry, their friend Bernie, and Horsenaround. There were a couple others but unfortunately I can’t figure out who. <frown>

We had a nice ride, albeit short. I only ate two granola bars while we were out… it’s not a long ride unless I drink both bottles of water and eat a whole bunch of granola bars. Came back to camp and piled into Horsenaround’s truck for a field trip to the tack store. The whole way there, I repeated my mantra: I don’t need anything, I don’t need anything, I don’t have any money, I don’t need anything.

<sigh> There was this pocketknife, and this pair of rubber/neoprene slip-on muck shoes, and this Australian Oilskin Duster… THANKS for finding it Horsenaround!!! There were only two, and they were only $30!! She got one, and I got one…. they happened to be just the right sizes! Then I had to get a can of the oil I’d need to coat the duster with. Anyway, by the time the dust had settled, we’d all spent quite a bit of money and I was in the lead. <double sigh> In my defense, I *did* fall in love with a nice soft pair of cotton rope reins, but I put them back because I didn’t really need them.

We got back to camp, I ate a quick lunch, and saddled up again. I honestly can’t tell you who all was there this time, although I know Evilgirl was there again. I remember her teasing me as we got back to camp, because I turned right around and rode back out with Horsenaround and Mark. Heck, I was getting in all the saddle time that I could!! <grin>

Getting back from our ride on Saturday afternoon: Horsenaround and her horse.

At some point on Saturday afternoon, Comanche attempted to take her girls for a ride. HSPrincess was on Flash, and her friend Amarah was on a rented horse. They’d told the guy she was a “rank beginner.” They rode out with Bernie, Evilgirl and Larry’s friend, but they didn’t get 200 yards from camp when they all came back walking alongside their horses. Apparently something had happened that had frightened Amarah. Something about the horse trotting, and her not being able to stop him? They got their money back, but the guy wanted to make it up to them. He promised them two free rentals, one for Amarah and one for Comanche’s other daughter, Nikki. He also said he’d take them all on a guided ride. When I talked to Comanche, she wasn’t sure she’d do it. I said” if you think the girls would like to go, but you don’t want a repeat of yesterday, I’ll ride with you. If one of them has trouble, she can have Zephyr and I’ll take the rental horse.” Comanche agreed.

Dinner was yummy.

Mug shots, after dinner on Saturday:

Crouching, Left to Right: Joan’s friend Amarah, Comanche’s daughter Joan(HSPrincess), her sister Nikki, and Charmergirl (Cheri).
Standing, Left to Right: Horsenaround (Vera) and her boyfriend Mark, Evilgirl (Lara) and her father Larry, Hollowfarm (Annie…standing in front of Larry), Zephyr’s Mom (Sharon), Comanche (Lee), Charmergirl’s husband (?) Eric (????), Comanche’s husband Tractorman (Russ), Charmergirl’s friend Barbara’s daughter April, and Charmergirl’s friend Barbara. The dog in front belongs to the general store. The little white dog is Brittany. Horsenaround and I are wearing the famous dusters in this picture. <wink>

We then retired to the covered picnic area, to listen to music, gab, and drink. In my case, I listened and made more necklaces for the late arrivals in our group. <wink> I chatted for quite a while with Nancy, who is a friend of Evilgirl and Larry. She lives locally, and has a 35yo TW gelding named Satan. She said she’d come ride with us the next morning.

I went to bed around 12:30am, after a snack.

Getting ready to ride on Sunday morning, 7:00 shift:
Barbara’s daughter April had chosen the Moonlit Lake pendant, and a glass necklace in lilac and cobalt blue:

- - -

Charmergirl chose the Inlaid Aztec Sun pendant, and a glass necklace in an earthy red and amber. She also wanted the 6 horsehair shoo-fly tassels.

- - -

We had a nice ride. Barbara works for the park, clearing trails, so she knew them very well. They showed me some trails I’d missed the day before, and we had several nice sections to canter. We got back at exactly the time I’d promised Comanche. <grin>

Getting ready to ride on Sunday morning, 9:00 shift:
Comanche’s daughter, Horseshoe Princess, had bought a second necklace for her gelding, Flash Dancer. She chose a “Harmony” pendant.

We rode out at 9:30, and the sun was shining. I was in the back, with Nancy and her aged TW.

Everything seemed to be going smoothly until we started down a hill. With all the rain, all the trails were muddy. The hill was short, but steep. Amarah had taken her horse over to the far right side, maybe to get onto “higher ground”…? Unfortunately, that meant that instead of her horse’s feet slipping just downhill, they also slipped to the left because she was on a side bank. She was very frightened, probably thinking the horse was going to fall over and roll down the hill. Some of the other horses were trying to trot down the mess, but I didn’t really watch any of them. I was focused on Amarah.

When we got to the bottom of the hill, it was clear that BOTH girls were very scared. Comanche got off her horse, and so did they. I asked HSPrincess which girl was more upset. It turned out that Nikki was actually crying, but Amarah wasn’t. I don’t know what happened with her horse exactly, but I suspect that he tried to trot down the hill, and when she tried to hold him back, he threw his head around a lot, and possibly even reared up a bit. I called Nikki over to me, got off Zephyr, hugged her, introduced Zephyr, and told her he would take good care of her. That he was only wearing a rope halter, because he didn’t NEED a bit. That if she needed to slow him down, she could just pull back with both reins slightly and he’d slow. To stop him, she could just pull back harder, or pull his head around with one rein. I boosted her up into my saddle, and asked Nancy (who was right next to Zephyr) to get her settled in while I got the rental horse. Nikki had a stricken look on her face when I left, but at least she’d stopped crying.

I never got back over there. The rental horse was an old retired SB off the track, with a fast walk, who was seriously buddy-bound. He wouldn’t let me turn him to face the back of the group, and he wasn’t happy when I tried to check him down into a slow walk. He wanted to be right next to the guide horse, and if I didn’t let him, he reared and flipped his head. I called back to Nancy that I wouldn’t be able to ride with them, and could she please take care of Nikki and Zephyr. She said she would, and that if she had to, she would pony him off of Satan.

I tried to keep them in sight, but the guide wasn’t paying any attention and for some reason I didn’t think to ask him to please wait or walk slower. I lost view of them after a while, and had to just trust that Nancy would get Nikki and Zephyr home safely. I had very little concern that Zephyr wouldn’t take care of Nikki, but there’s always that niggling thought in the back of your mind…

The saddle was killing me, so I tried to put more weight in my feet… my knees started to burn and ache. I thought fondly of the granola bar in my saddlebags. Then about 30 minutes away from camp, I realized I’d forgotten to lock the truck. There was $700 worth of camera equipment, and $200 in cash, in that truck. And the dressing room door was still open, too. I prayed that it would all be there when I returned.

We got back, and it was all still there. Several members of our group had all been in camp while we were gone. About 5 minutes after we got back, Nancy rode into the clearing. I was happy to see her! Zephyr was about 20 feet behind her, walking carefully and slowly. I could see Nikki had a huge smile on her face!

She walked Zephyr up to me, and before she even got off, she told me proudly that she had CANTERED for the first time! WOW!!!! Apparently, after experiencing his “slow and steady walk” for a while, she’d gotten really comfortable, and started to trust Zephyr, so Nancy asked her if she’d like to trot. She agreed, and after a moment, Zephyr broke into a canter for a few strides. He came back to a trot on his own, but it was long enough for her to be able to say that she’d cantered!! (Have I told you yet that I really love my horse?) I had tears in my eyes when I hugged his neck, and thanked him for taking good care of Nikki. By the way, her second words to me were “I am in love with your horse!”

I grilled a couple hamburgers while everyone else packed up, then I packed up and left. Couldn’t find the road I’d entered on, but recognized another one so I took it. Larkin Road sure DOES have some hills on it! The truck did just great on them, though.

The drive home went slower. I drove 9 hours to New Gloucester in southern Maine, and stayed with my friends Bill and Stephanie. Good timing, I was getting really sleepy… arrived there around 10:30. When I drove up, the barn doors were slightly open and the outdoor light was on. I went in, and there was an empty stall with hay and water, so I just unloaded Zephyr and put him to bed, then drove down to the house. Had a snack and chatted with Bill, then showered. Laid down in the bed, rolled onto my left side, and woke up when Bill yelled up the stairs that it was 5am and they were going down to feed the horses. <sigh> When will I feel rested again??

I drove from New Gloucester to Topsham on back roads, in order to get onto the right highway to head north to my friend Susie’s house. But suddenly I realized I was only 30 minutes from my mother’s house, and I had to go see her as a surprise. It was only 7:30, after all, so I had plenty of time. Mom was thrilled (she was still in bed when I got there) and I visited for a little while. Got back on the road around 9:45 and was at Susie’s by 10:15. We loaded her horse into my trailer, already saddled, and headed 3 miles away to some local trails. She lives near a tidal river, and it was low tide, so we got to do some wading. Washed most of the mud off my girth and shoo-fly… <grin>

Here’s me and Zephyr:

And here’s Susie and her gelding Cody:

I got on the road at 11am on Friday. I followed the highway for a while, and I must have been in a daze because I missed my originally-intended turn off the highway and ended up taking a totally different route than planned...

Zephyr and I arrived at the North Waterford Fairgrounds 4 hours later, just in time to vet in. There were three parking areas for rigs. The one right in the middle, next to the tack vendors and ride management's booth, was filled with huge fancy rigs belonging to the 100-milers who had come to qualify for the World Equestrian Games. You should have SEEN these things - semis with trailers as long as 18-wheelers attached. Oh wait... they WERE 18-wheelers, but for horses! But none of them were for more than 3 horses, maybe 4, so most of the room was taken up by the mid-tack and camper areas. I swear, the campers in these rigs must have had ovens, walk-in closets, and full bathrooms. I'd say there were about 20 rigs in this parking area.

The second parking area was past the first, and over to the left behind some of the fairgrounds' cattle barns (filled with horses, of course). It had two levels, and the upper level was where the parking attendant brought me. This area was shaped like an "L" around the side of one of the barns. He showed me the spot he'd reserved for me, near my friends, and there was no way I would fit in there unless I could tie Zephyr onto the back of my trailer. Not happening.

So he took me back down to the third parking area - which was past the "High Muckety-Muck" parking area on the other side of the fairgrounds' cook shack and dance hall. It was basically a field that was split into two levels. He showed me a spot on the upper level, and I parked. Unfortunately, the parking spot was right next to the "out" gate for the race! The 100-milers were scheduled to ride out together at 5am - a full hour before us. I didn't want Zephyr anywhere near that commotion! Also, I didn't know anyone in the neighboring trailers. Cursing under my breath, I unloaded Zephyr and we ran straight for the vet-in area.

At the vet-in, Zephyr got all A's except for a B on gut sounds. We headed back to the trailer, and met up with my buddy Bill (the friend I had been supposed to park near) on the way. We discussed parking arrangements, and decided that there was a space next to him that I could probably squeeze into. It was in the corner of the "L" and the opening was about 10 feet wide, but got bigger as you went further in because the two neighboring rigs were angled away from it. Bill led Zephyr over in front of me as I drove. I backed my 7' wide (wheels not included) trailer through that 10' opening on the first try. Several onlookers had to be told to shut their drooping mouths.

It took me until 10pm to get everything set up the way I wanted it. I was poking along, I guess. Finally ate dinner (tuna sandwich) sitting in the back of the trailer just before bed. Couldn't fall asleep right away, because Zephyr's hay bag made a noise each time it slapped back against the trailer. Had to get up and fix that because it was driving me nuts.

Got up at 3:45 to start getting ready for my 6am ride time. Everything worked very smoothly and I was in the saddle a few minutes early to warm up. I hooked up with my ride partners, Margaret Farnham and Lory Walsh, and we rode out after the front runners had already left. The start was much different than I've gotten used to - I'm accustomed to leaving two at a time, and being passed occasionally. Zephyr was jazzed, and tried to gallop, but I held him to a slow (bouncy!) canter to match the horses trotting around us down the two-track. Eventually the pack spread out a bit, but we ended up playing leapfrog with some other folks for a while. The three of us had decided to go faster than our intended average speed while the air was cool, so the pace, for me, was fast.

Zephyr was eager and happy, as was I. The first 15 miles went pretty quick. At some point, Margaret and I stopped to water the horses at a crew area, and Lory went on without us. When we arrived at the first hold, which was 30 minutes, I suddenly realized that I had no idea where my stuff was. I had no crew, so I'd put my hold bag in Irving McNaughton's truck and promptly forgotten what it looked like. I finally found it - Terry (sp?) saw me panicking and muttering, and asked me if she had my things! I said yes and she showed me where they were. It was then that I realized several things. One: it is extremely difficult to unsaddle a horse while you are holding it, especially if you have a breastplate and a heart monitor (which you're not used to using). Two: Once the girth is undone on one side, the horse will be perfectly happy to unsaddle ITSELF by dumping the entire thing off the other side onto the ground, in his effort to reach his neighbor's beet pulp. Three: Heart monitors are a pain in the butt to deal with when you're trying to extricate a horse from its tack while it is trying to eat his neighbor's beet pulp.

Finally, I untangled his legs and removed his bridle. He had his rope halter underneath, so I unclipped my sponge-on-a-leash (note to self: include extra un-leashed sponge in the hold bag) and dunked it in my neighbor's sponging water. Hey, it was the only water around. He'd been pulsing around 64 when I rode in, so I headed over to do my P&Rs. He pulsed in at 48 and got all A's. I returned to my stuff, gave him some beet pulp (which he didn't eat) and some carrots, which he sucked down like... well, like carrots, actually. I reset his front left Easy Boot (he's barefoot and booted all around) because it was twisting slightly. Before I knew it, it was time to saddle up. Needless to say, it was even harder to do than unsaddling had been - ended up begging someone to hold him for me. Margaret and I rode out about 6 minutes after my out-time (9 minutes after hers). Zephyr, who has never been unsaddled at a hold, was exceedingly confused. He told me in no uncertain terms that he was very unhappy at this nasty turn of events! We walked for a while, while I waited for his heart rate to normalize again.

The second 15 miles went a bit slower, and it wasn't just because Zephyr had slowed down. The time took longer to pass. I was getting hungry, since I hadn't had any time to eat at the hold, so I ate a granola bar out of my saddle pack. At some point, we reached a crew area and there was only one crew person left. Yes, that's right, Irving's crew person, Terry, was the last one there. (Irving is a 65+ yo gentleman who has had several surgeries on his heart, one heart attack, is extremely bowlegged, stutters, and looks about 80 yo... he usually finishes last but no one seriously teases him because everyone really respects him for getting out there and riding!) Terry let our horses have some of Irving's water, and we were about to ride off when Margaret looked back and spotted Irving coming over the hill towards us. We agreed to continue on, but at a walk so Irving could catch up. When he did, we proceeded to walk/trot to the next hold. When we trotted, we picked a medium pace because Irving's horse doesn't trot as big as either Zephyr or Promise. Irving, I discovered, is an absolute riot. Between him and Margaret, on the sections that we walked, I heard enough Endurance history to confuse me for months. (I'm new enough that I've never heard of 80% of the people or rides they mentioned. There was a lot of smiling and nodding on my part!)

We walked into the second hold, at the same location as the first, to find only a few other horses. One was just leaving, one had been pulled, and one was being treated. I unsaddled him a bit more gracefully this time (as in, the saddle landed where I put it, not where he dumped it), sponged him once, and went for P&Rs. He was at 48 again. A's on everything again, too. Margaret and I moved our stuff into some shade and I was thrilled to be able to tie Zephyr to a tree while I sponged him, used the Porta-Potty, and then ate the sandwich I'd somehow thought to put in my hold cooler with my 4 extra water bottles. Since I still had 4 full bottles, I stuck the last 2 into the middle pouch on my saddle pack. The first two loops had been drier than I'd expected, and I planned to use the extra two bottles to wet him down now and then. Margaret, who is 50+ yo and a very experienced Endurance rider, was amused when I took her horse away from her and ordered her to go use the Potty. Guess I was getting tired at that point.

We got back on the trail about 6 minutes late, again. I don't know how that happened, honestly, because the tree had made it easier to handle everything. Irving had waited an extra 12 minutes for us - his out time was 3 minutes before Margaret's, and 6 minutes before mine... and we left 6 minutes after my out time. He gave me a lecture at some point during that third loop, about how if my horse was pulsing down as we went through the "in" gate (he was) I should go straight to P&R before removing the saddle.

I had a "holy sh*t" moment when he told me that.

I said, you mean I can pulse in with the saddle on, and remove it between P&Rs and vet? He said sure. Wow. That would have been nice to know! Lessons learned... and learned well!!!!

The third loop repeated a portion of the second loop, and HAD to have been more than 15 miles. You know when you're in your car, and you drive the same route twice, and it seems faster the second time? Well, it doesn't work that way on horseback. At least not when you're doing your first 50. Part of the reason, though, was that Zephyr was not going along in the normal pulse range. It was higher than it should have been, even accounting for the heat, so we were walking a lot. And honestly, the other two horses didn't want to trot any more than Zephyr did. Margaret wanted to keep Promise's gut moving (he hadn't been eating at the holds) so we stopped and grazed a lot. Irving started complaining that we had to pick up the pace because he wanted to be at the last hold by 3:30pm. We picked up that nice easy trot again. At some point, we came upon 3 people walking their horses. Two of them were 30-milers who were overtime and who were taking a grass break. The other was Pam, a 50-miler who was just getting back on her Kentucky Mountain Horse. She had been leaving the second hold as we arrived. We ended up riding with Pam for the last 5 miles of this loop; unfortunately for Irving, Pam's horse had 3 speeds... walk, fast, and hell-bent-for-leather. Irving ended up cantering a lot... at least I assume he did... I don't know for certain because Zephyr was happily shoving his nose up Pam's gelding's butt. Oh well, at least he wasn't poking along anymore! All four horses had found new energy that no one knew they had. At one point I heard a muffled, strangled cry from Irving... "Mar-ga-ret! The pace has gone all to hell!!" We teased him endlessly after that, for never being happy. First he wants to go faster, then he wants to go slower.

When we arrived back at the fairgrounds for our last (20 min) hold, it was exactly 3:30pm. I went right over to the buckets I'd set next to the barn earlier. There was a row of people standing along the half-wall of the barn, leaning on the wall and looking out. I sponged Zephyr quickly and looked at my HRM. It said 60, but I didn't know if that was its last reading before I moved out of range, or the current one reading. I hoped it was current, and went right to P&Rs. He squeaked in with a 64 after a moment or two. He got B's on gait, impulsion, and attitude, and A's on the rest. CRI of 64/60. We went back to the buckets, and some of the people in the barn talked to me as I sponged him. Don't remember what we talked about. One of the guys noticed Zephyr wasn't drinking while I sponged, so he came out of the barn and held a bucket up for him to drink from. He made a joke about how at this stage in the game, even horses didn't want to have to do anything for themselves. I hadn't removed the bridle because it was such a short hold, and the guy mentioned that Zephyr wasn't able to drink very well with the bit in his mouth. I looked closer, and sure enough, even though he was sucking hard, he wasn't getting much down his throat. My helper pulled his bridle off and Zephyr stuck his whole head in the bucket and drank about 3 gallons. Good boy. The peanut gallery (I mean that in a nice way!) asked if I'd been e-lyting him, and I said yes I had been, but that at the first hold I hadn't because he hadn't been drinking. They suggested that I e-lyte him now that he'd had a good drink. I couldn't, because the other syringe was in my hold bag. "Where is your hold bag?" "In Irving's truck." "Well, I will hold your horse. Go get the syringe - you have to e-lyte him now." (Gotcha, yes sir, will do!!) When I got back, the helpful guy had walked Zephyr out of the commotion and was feeding him some hay. Later, I'd tried to find the guy who'd been so helpful and thank him again, but I couldn't remember for sure what he looked like.

Zephyr was pretty bummed about having to ride out again on the last 5 miles, but since his saddle hadn't been removed this time, I think he kind of expected it. His pulse was still higher than usual, and I was kind of worried. He was hanging over 100 even when we were walking. Which we did a lot of on this loop, by the way! I hoped he was just tired and hot... I squirted water on his neck whenever he dried off, but eventually the bottles came up empty even though I had stopped drinking, myself, in order to leave the water for him.

When we rode back onto the fairgrounds' property, I made sure I wasn't last. I didn't want the turtle award! I think it was Pam, then me, then Margaret (all close together) and finally Irving about 50 feet behind.

I noticed that Margaret and Irving stopped and sponged at the barn, without removing their saddles, but I knew I had a better chance of getting Zephyr under 60 if he was nekkid. So with Steph in tow (friend who had finished the 30 with her hubby Bill), I headed up to my trailer (pulse of about 80 at this point) and stripped him down. It was then that I saw it. The strap of his right hind Easy Boot had slipped up over his heel, and rubbed him raw!! I took the rest of the boots off first, then tried to get that last one off, but Bill ended up having to cut the strap with surgical scissors. As soon as the boots were off, Steph checked his pulse with a handheld and he had dropped to 44 or so. I rinsed his heel off with cool water, grabbed him and headed for P&Rs.

His pulse was nice and low, and he got all A's except for B's on guts and skin tenting. He was perfectly sound.

I took him back to the trailer, set him up with hay, water, and beet pulp, and quickly grabbed some dinner to bring to the awards, which were in 10 minutes.

In the 50-mile ride, there were 47 entrants and 33 finishers. That is, 30% of the horses did not complete the ride at all.

Somehow, I ended up with the Turtle Award after all. I was very confused about that... I'd been told that the Turtle Award went to the last person across the finish line, and so I had made sure I wasn't last! But that's OK, it's a very nice turtle statue that someday when I have a garden, I will be happy to display there.

Last Friday morning, early, I dug Louis up out of bed and dragged him to the barn. ("You're making me get up at 6am on a HOLIDAY??") I'd already done everything except load Zephyr, the day before, so we were on the road by 7. Got to my friend Missy's barn (she's a natural horsemanship trainer... www.deadeyezeldas.com ) at 9:30. Settled Zephyr into her lower pasture with a fly mask and extra spray; the gnats were fierce there! Then headed down to her camp for lunch. Here's a photo of their camp, on Clearwater Lake in Maine. They live there year-round.

Then after lunch, Louis and Missy's husband Dale went golfing. We loaded up our horses and went to her friend Sheila's house to ride. There were four of us - me on Zephyr, Missy on Vigil, Carol on Duffy, and Sheila on Bo. Vigil is a bay Morgan, Duffy is a black draft-cross, and Bo is a buckskin mixed-breed. Bo has done CTRs in the past, but not for a few years now. He's 20.

It was HOT. Upper 80s or low 90s, sunny, and humid. That's hot for around here. We headed out for a 2 hour ride... at least, that was the plan!

I wasn't able to bring my camera, because I was using my 35mm and it's too big/bulky. I'll just have to try to describe it.

We had every type of trail imaginable, almost. We started out on the sandy shoulder of a paved road, then moved into the woods onto ATV trails and some singletrack. Then down a dirt road through a sandpit (where we rode up and down the sand piles) and back into the woods. We came out of the woods onto a beach of smooth rocks, ranging from 3" to 10" in diameter. No sand, no dirt, no grass... just rocks worn smooth by the passage of time and water. It's a little unusual for our area. This was the Sandy River, but Lord only knows why it's called that. Our horses did not hesitate as we asked them to cross the beach, about 30 yards or so to the edge of the river. None of them balked, just walked right in. We brought them out into the middle of the river and stood, letting them drink and splash in the water. I got my sponge out and dunked it, cooling Zephyr's shoulders, neck, and head. He drank, but not as much as I would have liked. I was sad when we left the river. It was so pretty that I didn't want to go. And me without my camera. *sigh*

The horses were feeling refreshed, apparently, because they asked to gallop up the hilly trail away from the river. We whooped and hollered as we raced each other. Eventually we had to stop because Carol lost something that had been tied to her saddle. We proceeded at a more dignified pace after that. Our next trail was an old narrow-gauge railroad bed that was grassed-over and forgotten. The saplings hung low, and fallen trees made us leave the trail in places to find a way around. At one point, Carol didn't duck enough, and she got scraped as Duffy passed under a big dead tree that was leaning from one side of the trail to the other.

We came around a corner and took a left at a Y, and all of a sudden I was in Sherwood Forest. A mature stand of pines, with no underbrush, stood in front of us on the side of a hill. The sunlight filtered through the canopy onto the pine needle floor. We zigged and zagged between the trees, and Missy left the group a bit to wander up the hill. She looked back at us and gasped because it was just so picturesque. And me without my camera. *sigh*

We ended up going through that stand of pines again because we reached a dead end and had to turn around. After a brief moment of milling around, Sheila picked a trail. We came out into a big rolling field and rode down a mowed swath in the middle. The view of the mountains was breathtaking - not really clear because of the haze, but still breathtaking. (Of course, any of you from out West would laugh at what I'm calling "mountains" but hey it's all we've got.)

We hit another stretch of paved road, then turned into the woods again. Some more ATV trails and singletrack, then a dirt road with loose rocks. It wound its way up a hillside, sometimes very steep, sometimes very narrow. The horses wanted to canter up it at first, but eventually they realized it wasn't going to end anytime soon. Duffy was panting so hard that Carol got off and walked him, so Missy got off too and stayed with them. Sheila and I were pretty far ahead when we got to the top. We looked back down the hill; the view here was even better! The hill was so steep that from where I was standing, I could have taken a picture of the other two horses being led up the hill, and it would have still included the mountains in the distance. And me without my camera. *sigh*

Once they caught up, we got off and stood waiting for Duffy to stop puffing. Sheila got back on and rode out, but Missy and I got back on and waited for Carol. She was sitting on a log looking up at us on our horses, and we were sitting on our horses looking down at her thinking "man, Duffy must be in serious trouble!!" After a few minutes, we all realized suddenly that Carol actually thought she was waiting for US! That's rich! She was the one sitting on the log - we were on our horses! I think mayhap Carol was feeling a bit dehydrated and not thinking clearly.

Anyhow, we got back on the trail and went just a bit down the hill before we saw a house. There was a woman in the backyard with three horses; two were in the pasture and one was under saddle. Wait! It was Bo, and here came Sheila from around the other side! She had stopped for a water break and to hose Bo down.

It turned out that we'd been riding for about 3 hours, and been lost for half that time, and I didn't even know it. Sheila had been freaking out because she knew we had to get back to our men, and she had been lost ever since the railroad bed. Wow. Either I'm dense, or she's really quiet when she's lost!

We hit the road and made it back to Sheila's house without further incident. Duffy was still puffing hard when he got on the trailer, because he's so out of shape, but he's fine now.

Friday night, we had BBQ and sat around on the screen porch talking.

Saturday morning, the guys went golfing and Missy and I loaded up the horses again. This time, we went to the local fairgrounds to watch the team penning. We wanted our horses to see the cows, and she wanted Vigil to be around the commotion. Sheila met us there with her Spotted Draft, Outlaw. We ended up leaving the fairgrounds and riding down the road a mile or two, then coming back and riding around the fairgrounds some more. We rode through a new barn that had a concrete floor and was totally empty inside. Outlaw was the only horse with shoes, but the three horses' echoing hoofbeats still made quite a racket. We rode through next to each other and felt like the 3 musketeers! When we got to the other side, I turned Zephyr and gaited back through, using the building as a sounding board for his 4-beating. It was the first time I'd ever had a particular moment (the doorjam) to cue him into gait, and he did it perfectly in both directions. Good boy!

After that, we went over to the dirt racetrack where they do the harness racing. No one was out there, so we did one lap. Always wanted to ride on a racetrack! I wish it hadn't been so hot, we all really wanted to gallop but it wouldn't have been good for the horses. We compromised by trotting most of it, and cantering the rest.

Then we found a washrack and hosed them down before heading back to the trailers, and home. I went for a brief swim right away, but had to cut it short because we got a thunderstorm.

Saturday night we had a bonfire and a huge meal with about 20 people Missy invited.

Sunday morning, Missy and I rode our horses into the lake. Their property has two narrow sandy beaches that are pretty gradual until you get about chest high on the horses. Zephyr went right out to the edge of where it drops off more abruptly and then planted his feet. That was the deepest he'd ever gone. It took a bit of coaxing to get him in deeper...

- - -

After we swam, we took the horses back to the barn and Louis and I packed up. Then we sat around for a few hours wishing we could just stay!

Zephyr’s front legs were puffy last Sunday morning. I treated them, and they were better by Monday morning. So last night I set out to do a nice easy walk/gait ride. It was hot and muggy, and I also wanted to take it easy on his legs.

I filled up four 20oz water bottles, tacked him up, put his Easy Boots on his front feet, and sprayed us both with bug spray. We turned right onto Bennoch Road and rode 2 miles on sand shoulders to the trailhead. That included going under the local 4-lane highway’s overpass. Good boy – never flinched or broke gait.

Turned left onto the dirt/grass road that I thought would connect me to the snowmobile trail that leads to the old railroad bed. The bugs got a bit annoying, so I asked him to gait instead of walk. The ground was rough enough that he said he’d rather trot – so I said OK. The road got a little narrower. We passed the point that was the farthest I’d gone on that road before. The road got muddy. The road turned into a mud puddle. The mud puddle turned into a narrow, bumpy, muddy ATV trail. I finally reached a T intersection, so I turned right and headed out towards the snowmobile trail. I hoped.

It was actually a neat little ATV trail that we were on. The pine-needle footing was wonderful. The branches of the trees formed a thick, low canopy at about my shoulder height, and the trail seemed perfectly straight; we could see for quite a distance down the trail. Zephyr offered to trot, and I agreed because of the bugs. I was in two-point, with my head behind his neck and my crop held vertically in front of my face to shield me from the spider webs. His step was springy and eager, his necklace was jingling merrily, and all was well. We were having a nice little trot in the cool forest.

Then suddenly, he stopped. Just like that. And then a small bear cub ran across the trail about 30 feet in front of us. We stood and waited, listening for Momma Bear, but never heard anything. I called out “Hey Momma, we don’t want to meet you – but we’re coming through, OK?”

No, silly, she didn’t answer me.

It took me a few minutes to convince Zephyr that it really would be OK to go on. Then just when he was going at a nice walk, he spotted a pond through the trees to our left and decided it would eat him. It took me another few moments to convince him the pond was OK after all. We were halfway down the side of the pond when he offered to trot again. I agreed, and off we went, jingling merrily again. It seemed that all was again well.

The pleasant little trail dumped out abruptly onto a dirt road. We could choose straight, left (looked a bit like a logging operation), or right. I surmised that a right turn would take us back towards home, but I wasn’t ready to go back, so I figured I’d see what was ahead. I could see more ponds, and I hoped there would be a good place for him to drink.

The dirt road got a bit nicer in increments as we proceeded. By “nicer” I mean nicer for cars – more hardpacked and wider. It wasn’t nicer for Zephyr’s legs. There was nowhere for him to drink, either.

Now, I wish I could say that I had a valid reason for making the decision I made at this point. I wish I could say “Zephyr didn’t want to go back towards the bear” or “I thought we’d get home faster.” But really, I just wanted to explore. *sigh* Anyway, I asked a guy who was walking his dog what road I saw intersecting ahead. He said “Forest Ave.” I asked which way to turn in order to get to Old Town, and how far. He said left, and a couple miles.

Honestly, I must have thought it was a different section of Forest Ave., because if I had known, I would have just gone back the way we’d come!

Instead, we went out and took a left onto Forest Ave. Wide sand shoulders were a blessing – cars go fast on that road. But we’re used to cars and heavy equipment and everything, so all was well. He even stopped to pee as a dump truck was approaching from behind. Oh yeah, he was really concerned about that dump truck.

We rode for a while, and then we rode some more. Then I looked down to see that his right Easy Boot was missing! I knew I’d seen it when we turned onto Forest Ave. so I turned him around and we walked back the way we’d come. This giant German Shepard came roaring out of the woods in front of someone’s house, snarling and snapping. I could hear the owner calling him, but he wasn’t listening. I turned Zephyr to face the dog, and he stayed back a bit. Occasionally got close enough for me to threaten him with my crop, but I never connected. Eventually the owner came and got him, apologizing profusely. I said it was OK, but warned her that I would be back in a minute because I was just looking for something I’d dropped.

I found the boot and put it on him, then we turned again and resumed our travels. We walked when he got tired of gaiting, and trotted whenever he asked to. Once he even cantered, although not for long because some cars came by. At one point, he stopped and it took me a moment to realize why. His necklace, which I had carelessly tied UNDER his pommel bag, had come undone. I looked back, and did not see it. Why had he stopped, then?? Then I looked directly under him, and saw that he was standing right over it. Wow. He’d stopped as soon as he felt it slip from his neck. I decided not to get off and fetch it, though, because it was a bad spot. Oh well, maybe I would come back for it in the truck. A short time later, the right Easy Boot came off again. This time I didn’t have a choice; I got off, replaced the boot, and remounted.

I kept thinking to myself, “the turn for Bennock Road has GOT to be coming up soon!” Suddenly I realized my mistake. Long before Forest Ave. intersects with Bennock Road at a Y intersection, it intersects with Stillwater Ave. Now, Stillwater is a connector between Bennock and Forest, and taking it would have made our trip QUITE a bit shorter, but it’s a 5-lane non-divided main road, with no sidewalks, and is currently undergoing construction. So instead, we continued straight. After crossing over the highway (no incidents – rode on the yellow line and refused to let cars pass), Forest Avenue comes into the Town of Orono in the Professors’ District. It’s not really called that, but it’s how I think of it. Lots of nicely kept homes, with immaculate lawns, newly paved streets, and sidewalks on both sides. Zephyr walked on the sidewalks when I asked, on the edges of the lawns, or in the street. He ignored the lawn sprinklers, the weedwhacking bug-hooded pith-helmeted yard workers, and the yapping chihuauas, just to name a few things. We basically did a big triangle. Forest Ave. to a sharp left onto Bennock Road (then replaced the Easy Boot again), then stopped at the Bennock/Stillwater intersection.

It was there that it occurred to me that horses do not trip the sensors at streetlights. At least not the ones that are embedded in the road surface. He stood quietly at the white line, in the “go straight” lane, waiting for a break in traffic. Finally we got one, so we ran the red light. LOL

A block later, I had to replace the right Easy Boot for the FOURTH TIME. We got within a mile of home, and had just left a tall grass section along the road when I looked down and realized that the *&$@(# Easy Boot was gone again. This time, I hadn’t noticed it right away, so the boot wasn’t right there. There was still plenty of light, even though it was 8:15pm, so I turned him around (this is not the first time I’ve been grateful that he’s not barn sour!) and we walked back through the tall grass, looking for the boot. Nowhere to be seen. I got off, took the other one off and tied it onto my saddle, then we walked home. I got off about 100 yards from home, loosened the girth, and led him from then on because I thought he would appreciate it.

After a quick sponge-down and a few bites of grass, Zephyr was happy to find his hay and grain waiting for him.

What a good boy he had been – I didn’t even care that I’d lost his boot and his necklace.

This morning, I retraced our street-route with my truck. The streets alone were about 10 miles, and I estimate that the woods section was about 2-3 miles. We went about 5 miles out of our way by going back via the roads. But you know, I’m not upset about that either. We had a great ride, and I learned a few things about my horse. 1) He trusts that I will keep him safe, no matter WHERE we end up; 2) I can trust him to get me home safely; 3) He knows what stop signs are for; 4) If he really has to pee, he will do so no matter WHAT is going on around him; and 5) I love him to pieces.

It was just icing on the cake that while I was retracing our route the next morning, I found both the boot and the necklace. By the way – I now have proof that the glass beads on my Rhythm Bead Necklaces can be run over by a car and still not break.

Sorry I don’t have any pictures to share… you’ll just have to believe me that everything happened this way. Or you could ask the blind man… he saw it too.

Streaked Mountain... a 30-mile Competitive Trail Ride... second-to-last of the season.

I got out of work at 11, and by 1pm Traci and I had loaded the horses and headed out. It was our first trip in about a month and a half but we were pleased with how well we’d been able to remember everything we needed to pack. We stopped on our way out of town for snacks and gas, and then got on the highway. Both of us were very excited to be traveling again. Even our horses were happy about the prospect of getting away from home to ride; they’d been getting a little bored of the local trails.

The directions said we were to stay on the highway until Augusta, which is about an hour and a half south of here, but we hadn’t been on the road for 15 minutes when I noticed the “door open” light was on. I pulled over and asked Traci to check the doors; it turned out that the tailgate hadn’t been latched all the way.

I don’t know what made me think of it, but about 20 minutes later I had a disturbing realization. Not just disturbing but alarming. I quickly pulled over again and hopped out to discover that I had been correct; I had indeed forgotten to plug in the trailer’s electrical connection! The entire cable and plug was dragging under the center of the trailer… when I pulled it out towards me it was very hot and the last four feet were totally trashed. The wires were all exposed and ripped to shreds.

Did I mention that my trailer is brand new, that I only bought it in May?

Did I mention that once before, with my old trailer, I forgot to plug in the electric connector? You would think once would have been enough.

Traci came over and joined me in my swearing contest; I finally asked her to get a bungee cord out of the trailer, then I wrapped the cable around the tongue stand and hooked it up with the bungee. We got back in the truck and practically cried our way to the Newport exit about ten miles away. We really didn’t want to turn around and limp home, because we really wanted to go to this ride and we were already almost halfway there!

Just as we got off the highway, I remembered my membership to the Equestrian Motor Plan. I figured they could make some phone calls for me and find a place that could fix my wiring… maybe an RV sales and service shop. (Traci seemed to think a car dealership might be able to help but I knew they couldn’t. I’d asked my dealership a while back if they did wiring, and they said no dealerships did.) I needed a large parking lot to park in while I called the Motor Plan people, and I was headed for the supermarket parking lot when I realized the traffic was getting really thick and I didn’t want to go any further without lights on the trailer. We turned into the very next lot.

It just happened to be a GMC dealer. We looked at each other and said hey, why not, it doesn’t hurt to ask! I went in, put on my cutest, most helpless face, and approached a salesman. Before I even finished my story he escorted us to the service department and told me to ask for Terry. Terry said he could start working on it in about ten minutes!

I asked where we could unload the horses while they worked on the trailer, and Terry suggested a field behind an abandoned department store about two blocks away. So Traci and I drove over there and unloaded the horses. It turned out that there was a construction crew working at the department store, but they weren’t using any particularly loud tools and they weren’t anywhere near the field, so we figured it was safe. I tied Zephyr to a tree in the shade and made him promise to be good. Traci held Nettie. I left her with a bottle of water, her sunglasses and a ball cap, and promised to return as soon as I could. I was planning to either unhook the trailer and drive back over, or beg the dealership for a ride. They ended up driving me back; I kept my cell phone and made them promise to call as soon as the work was finished. I also grabbed a few paper towels in case either of us had to pee while we waited (good thing I thought of it)!

When I got back to Traci and the horses, everyone was just as I’d left them. A little TOO much so; Traci had trampled down about a two-foot diameter circle in the grass, and could not move from that spot because she was wearing shorts and was very allergic to the grass! Meanwhile, she was starting to feel very sick, as if perhaps she had eaten something bad. She told me that at any given moment she might throw Nettie’s lead rope at me and head for the woods despite her grass allergy.

We stood around and tried to be patient for about 25 minutes, but then we started to notice storm clouds rolling in. Thinking back to the thunderstorm Zephyr and I had lived through two weeks ago, I knew we did NOT want to be standing in a field holding two horses when the storm hit. Zephyr and I went for a little exploratory trip over to the back of the department store.

There was a concrete loading dock with a roof, and on one side, the dock was only about a foot and a half off the driveway. Someone had put a flimsy patched plywood ramp over all but two feet or so of the space; I stepped on it to verify that it wasn’t even strong enough to hold MY weight let alone his. I looked at the dock very carefully to make sure nothing was likely to hurt him. There were some broken linoleum tiles laying on the dock right where he would have to get onto it, but I knew he wouldn’t hurt himself on them so I just tried to kick them out of the way as much as I could. Then finally I stood on the ramp and pointed towards the loading dock with one arm, swinging the end of the lead rope with the other.

On his first try, Zephyr kicked the bottom portion of the ramp by accident and moved it over about six inches. The experience made him a little more wary so on his second attempt he got his front feet up onto the dock, felt the tiles moving under his feet, and decided he had to back up again. On his third try he made it! I rubbed his neck and told him he was a wonderful boy. I figured if he was already up there Nettie would go just to be with him, and if the storm really got bad I planned to knock on the loading bay door and beg to be able to stand just inside the door. After all, we were stranded!

I returned to report our success to Traci, who was starting to feel better, then I called the dealership to find out our status. They estimated another 45 minutes, so we concentrated on keeping our spirits up and making the time pass quickly.

A bit later, the storm hadn’t gotten any closer. I looked at my watch and reported that 15 minutes had passed. When I looked up, Traci was smiling and looking past me. I turned around to see my rig being driven over to meet us! We were so happy to see it! Terry dropped it off with us and walked back to the dealership while we loaded the horses (again, so grateful that they self-load!). We went over to pay our bill and discovered that the guy who did the work was a horsey acquaintance of ours, a man we’d ridden with several times last summer! What are the chances?

We arrived at camp about half an hour after vet-in was supposed to end, but it turned out that we weren’t last. The large, hilly field was surprisingly empty compared to the other rides we’d attended. Only fourteen riders were expected. One trailer with four riders from Vermont was still missing; they’d been caught in a thunderstorm so bad they’d had to wait it out at the side of the road. Not long after they were back underway, they’d gotten a flat tire on the trailer.

We parked our rig and unloaded, and vetted the horses in with no problems. Unless you count the fact that the trot-out was in a grassy field as a problem, that is… it’s hard to get a horse to trot if all he wants to do is have his head buried in the grass!

It’s also hard to set up a tent when people keep coming over to admire your Hi-Ties and your horses, but finally I just left them and went to work. One of them finally caught on and came to help me… a very nice man from Vermont who we had never met. He and his wife (who was still talking to Traci) had been doing Endurance and CTRs back in the 70s, but were newly returned to the sport and therefore were intrigued by all the advances in gear.

It was after dark when camp was finally set up. Rather than go socialize more, Traci and I chose to sit in the back of the truck and munch on cheese and crackers, talking and looking at the clear night sky. There was no moon yet, so it was absolutely dark except that it was filled with more stars than we had ever seen before, including the Milky Way and Mars. It made us hungry just to think about it and there was no chocolate in sight. Unless you count Power Bars, which I don’t.

Around 9:30, a bunch of yellow and orange lights pulled into the narrow driveway and began to squeeze between the stone walls we knew were hidden in the darkness. Every now and then a person’s silhouette would get between us and a few of the lights; we estimated that about eight people were trying to guide the driver. It took probably 20 minutes before the entire rig came into view, and when it did, it spanned the entire length of the driveway. There were more lights on that trailer than on most 18-wheelers, which actually made some sense because the darn thing WAS an 18-wheeler. (The next morning, I wasn’t surprised to discover that the living quarters / tack room was larger than my entire apartment.)

They pulled up in the middle of the field next to a small windmill that was turning lazily in the warm evening breeze. It was a long time before they had the rig positioned just right, and then they left the engine running while they set up four elaborate electric pens. When that was done, they shut off the rig and we were left in peace.

We finally got to bed around 10:30. I say “bed” in the loosest sense because I had forgotten to pack the air mattress. It made setting up camp a lot easier and faster but it sure as heck didn’t make falling asleep easier OR faster! In fact, neither of us fell asleep until the wee hours. The horses were relatively quiet, so it wasn’t their fault, but neither of us could get comfortable.

We must have both been sleeping at 2am though because apparently some coyotes howled and a dog barked, and we never heard any of it. We woke up to hear an engine start at 4am, followed by the sounds of the neighbor’s horses demanding and receiving breakfast; we finally gave up at 4:30 and went to feed our own horses.

I took this photo of the moon (top) and the pre-dawn sky:

The ride was scheduled to start at 7am so we began to tack up at 6. It wasn’t even light enough then for me to start braiding Zephyr’s mane, so I did his Easy Boots first and then braided. That meant I didn’t start saddling him until after 6:30… I was still finishing up when my watch (synchronized to the Atomic Clock) said 6:54. But apparently the ride manager’s watch was fast! She called our numbers before I’d even bridled him. I was as quick as I could be; I even mounted without tightening the girth again. I figured at some point on the trail I’d stop and tighten it.

The trail started out as a right turn down a paved road and then a quick left into someone’s side yard, then out back through their orchard and hay fields, and into the woods. The woods section was extremely narrow and winding; even with ribbons every six feet, Zephyr and I (in the lead) frequently had to stop and back up a few feet to where the trail had turned. Traci and I grouched and grumbled as we ducked to avoid the low-hanging branches that WE, had WE been managing the ride, would have removed.

The trail got better a little while later though, getting wider and taller until it eventually turned into a dirt logging road. We increased our speed until we were moving at a nice fast trot; Zephyr was still in the lead, which was nice because he can’t trot quite as fast as Nettie can. And she shouldn’t trot that fast all the time anyway, that’s how she hurt her suspensory last month.

We almost went off trail a few times because the “out” loop was marked in pink and the “in” loop was marked in red. (DUH… they’re a bit difficult to distinguish!) And later, in a forested section right before we hit the mountain, there were pink surveyors’ ribbons all OVER the place and the footing was hard to see hoofprints in! We found the right trails though, and eventually hit the “ledge” everyone was telling us about.

Over a mile of trail up Streaked Mountain, all of it on solid granite ledge. I was thankful I’d kept him Easy Booted instead of bowing to peer pressure and shoeing him… he’d have slipped and fallen off the mountain very early on. He can’t seem to keep his balance in metal shoes, not even on the concrete barn aisle.

Zephyr continued to lead, as he had for the entire ride thus far. He seemed to enjoy the challenge of picking the best route up the mountain. In some places, there was no choice but to climb what amounted to tall rock steps; all we could do was lean way forward, put our arms around their necks, and pray. At some point I remembered that I’d never tightened the girth again… good thing he had a breastplate on…

This picture was taken at one of the EASY sections. During the hard stuff, the camera was safely stowed!

Traci reported that for the first time ever, Nettie was hanging back and actually LOOKING at where she was putting her feet instead of just putting her nose on his butt and trying to push him to go faster.

Along the way, there were several very large, very muddy puddles. Zephyr, who had not yet drank anything at this point, stopped and drank about 15 gallons of water at one of those puddles. I think he was finally convinced he might be out for a while

We stopped a few times on the easy sections to look at the view:

At this point we thought we’d left camp last. We hadn’t seen any other horses on the trail at all, and were hoping that the official photographer at the top of the mountain hadn’t left before we got there! He hadn’t, though, and we got a couple good pictures out of it:

Thank goodness the route down the mountain was a granite road. But from the summit to the cell phone tower where the road started was enough downhill to make me really nervous! Did I mention that I’m terrified of going down steep hills? Being on horseback, and on solid rock, doesn’t make me feel any better.

The horses weren’t sure what they thought of the loud electrical buzzing sound they heard coming from the cell phone tower, nor did they know what to think of the huge cables that anchored it to the mountain. Without too much time lost, though, they were persuaded to walk under all the cables and past the cell phone tower.

The gravel road was very steep, and the horses slid a lot because the gravel rolled under their feet. We went very slowly.

After we got off the mountain we trotted and cantered all the way to the vet check. The last 2 miles before the vet check was a very straight, very boring dirt road… actually an abandoned railroad bed. When we arrived, both horses were happy to see their apples, carrots, and water buckets! Zephyr pulsed down to a 44 (the requirement was 60), and his respiration was so slow the volunteer could only count two breaths in one minute. I said eight was pretty normal for him, so that was what she wrote. Nettie got a 58 on the pulse, but I don’t remember what her respiration was.

After the hold, they’re usually pretty sluggish. The long, straight, boring dirt road (5 miles of it) was no help! Other riders had been able to make very good time in that section, but we were happy to get a steady trot. Nettie tripped a lot because she kept going to sleep as she trotted. We tried to splash her with water on her neck as often as we could.

After we left that section and hit the edge of a paved road, we were able to make better time because there were things for the horses to look at and be interested in. That turned into another dirt road and then a logging road; we made even better time there, cantering wherever we could.

At the last water stop, with 5 miles to go, we had used our entire maximum ride time. We had to make it back to camp within 30 minutes or we would be disqualified and would not receive a completion. The road after the water stop was at least hilly, so we really whooped and hollered and yippiekaiayed as we went up the hills, racing each other at a full gallop. The horses really got into it! They got so they considered trotting to be resting, and they’d start cantering on their own as they hit the uphill section. All we had to do was kiss once and they’d gallop, and if we yelled and hallooed and yodeled, they’d take off like they’d been shot from a cannon. They were having a blast! Unfortunately we nearly gave one poor woman a heart attack as we rounded a curve and surprised her in her yard… I don’t know why though, it’s not like she couldn’t hear us coming!

The trail ended at the edge of some dense woods. At least, it looked like it ended… in actuality, we had returned to that first section of trail, the really narrow one that wound its way through the trees. Just as I was groaning and thinking to myself, “we have to walk through this but if we do we WILL be disqualified,” Zephyr barged into the woods at a trot without any prompting from me. I crouched low over his neck, with my left hand on the pommel for balance and the reins in my right hand. “Good thing I taught him to neck rein recently!” I thought to myself. I ducked branches here and there at first, but more often as we continued. Knowing Nettie was close behind, I started calling out “duck!” to warn Traci about the branches. Then as the turns started coming faster and getting tighter, I started calling “left!” or “right!” depending on which way it looked like the trail went. In this case though, “looked like” is the operative turn. Frequently I would call out a direction, and even steer Zephyr that way, and he would overrule me and zip around the corner in the other direction… he was never wrong. It was an unbelievable high, like driving a Porsche along a twisty mountain road at 90mph!

At one point, immediately following a rapid succession of “duck!” warnings, I called out “goose!” She didn’t laugh, so I said “what, didn’t you think that was funny?” I heard a distinct growl from behind me. Much later, as we rehashed the ride, Traci told me that while Nettie had enjoyed herself, Traci had not. Nettie is several inches taller than Zephyr, and unlike Zephyr, she isn’t short-backed for her height. She’s actually LONG-backed, which made the tight turns really hard for her. Her head and shoulders would make it around the corner but her back end would spin out and take down small saplings before she could get back on trail! Apparently while Zephyr and I zipped around the corners having the time of our lives and pretending to be a Porsche on a twisty mountain road, Nettie and Traci were playing “1970 Chevy Impala.” Whoops…

We burst out of the woods into the neighbor’s hayfield, which from this direction was a sweeping uphill vista of green. We galloped along the edge, around the corner, and slowed to a canter as we rode through the small orchard. A short section of lawn, then a brief section on paved road, and we trotted across the finish line to hear that we were five minutes over the limit for disqualification.

We were so upset.

As we headed dejectedly back to the trailer, the ride manager caught up with us to report that over half of the 14 riders were over the limit for disqualification, so the staff was not disqualifying anyone! We felt better then, and went to take care of the horses.

Zephyr pulsed down to a 44 again, a good thing because that was the requirement. Normally he gets down to between 30 and 36, but I thought 44 wasn’t too bad for having done so much galloping up until just ten minutes earlier.

Nettie, however, hung at around 80. She was still revved up from the last half of the ride. She lost points but wasn’t disqualified. In fact, since she was the only Appy, she won the breed award and “brought home the beet pulp!” We thought that was a nice award, especially since we needed more anyway.

We broke camp as fast as we could and got on the road. The trip home went very smoothly.

The barnlord told me that the next morning, instead of his normal sleepiness, Zephyr incited the whole pasture to a gallop-fest! He got them racing around and kept them at it for a good long time, as if he had more energy than he knew what to do with!

So it sounds like Zephyr’s finally feeling better these days… I’m so glad!

Poor Zephyr got a bath on Thursday night after I got out of work; it was quick because it was only about 48*F outside. He didn’t complain too much. We pulled out of the barnyard at noon on Friday, right on schedule, and made our obligatory stop at the Irving down the road, for gas and snacks. The new truck handled much better on the highway than the old one, even with both horses. Eighteen-wheelers passed us and I never felt a thing, even going as fast as 65 mph, when in the old truck I would have had to slow down to 50! I was thrilled. It was sunny and mid-50’s, just perfect for traveling.

The trip was pretty uneventful and we arrived in the Ridecamp at North Waterford Fairgrounds at around 4:30. The horses stood quietly while we set up their Hi Ties, hay, and water, then we unloaded them so they could eat for a few minutes before we took them for their vet checks. The vet and lay judge marked down their existing booboos, dents, and dings, and measured their metabolics and such. Zephyr got a B on jugular refill, 1 second on capillary refill, and .5 seconds on the skin pinch; everything else was an A or a 0 (the best you can get).

Then it was time to trot out. I was a little concerned because the ground was pretty rocky and normally Zephyr is a little tenderfooted on rocks. But then I reminded myself that he was wearing his new polyurethane Ground Control shoes, and they had bars that would protect the sensitive frog of his hoof, so he would be fine.

Zephyr and I went first. The lay judge looked at his sheet and asked why I’d listed him as “Grade” when he was clearly a full Arab. I explained that he was an unregistered Arab / RMH cross and she looked surprised. I had to chuckle… he does not look like a full Arab to me. Oh well, at least that served as a reminder that I had to inform her that he is gaited, in case he threw a few steps of something funky into his trot. I’ve had vets call him Grade One Lame before, because of that.

Unfortunately I forgot that during the trot out on the night before the ride, you want to make sure they look as tired and lazy as you can. I ran as fast as I could alongside him; his trot was snappy and alert. He did his circles perfectly and I ran as fast as I could back to the judges. I realized my mistake when I looked at their faces (impressed) and heard the vet say “well, HE’S definitely ready to go…” I glanced over at the others waiting in line, and saw the same look on their faces. Oooops… Tom Hutchinson, a pretty famous rider here in the Northeast, commented that I was going to have to work pretty hard to make him look better than that tomorrow. Oooops… Steve Rojek, even more famous, just chuckled and shook his head. Oooops… I just grinned and shrugged it off, trying to just be happy that he’d looked great and that I had been doing this long enough to even KNOW who those famous folks were, and to talk to them on a first name basis. I had no hope of beating them anyway, so I decided to just relax.

Traci and Nettie, forewarned, performed an average trot out, and then we returned to the trailer to get our camp set up. That went pretty quickly because we were setting up the air mattress in the bed of the pickup, instead of putting up a tent. Then we met up with some friends and walked down the street to the famous Tut’s Restaurant (recently renamed Melby’s) for dinner. It wasn’t far, and the sunshine and friendly company made it a pleasant walk. The walk back, however, was less pleasant. The moon wasn’t out yet so we could hardly even find the road! We made it back all right though, and settled into our sleeping bags with some wine to relax and get sleepy.

The night was too short; every time Nettie ran out of hay, she would bugle a complaint and one of us would have to get up and throw her some more. Next time I think we’ll just plop a whole bale down in front of her, with the strings still on it to slow her down some. Zephyr, of course, never bothered to answer her. He just woke up long enough to notice the new hay and munch on it for a while.

We got up at 5:30, fed the horses and did our other morning chores, then headed down to the 7:00 riders’ meeting. Then back to the trailer to tack up for an 8:10 start. Rain was in the forecast, but not until the afternoon, when we were scheduled to be back in camp anyway. We discussed clothing strategies and decided to wear light windbreakers over poly-pro long-sleeve shirts, and our tights. I was also wearing poly-pro long johns, and I tied on a pair of rain pants. Traci stuffed her rain slicker in her hold bag; I put a bunch of dry clothing in a big Ziploc bag and put that in my bag for the hold, then dropped both bags off in the truck to go to the hold.

We were in the saddle by 8:05 or so, but ended up wandering around the grounds until we were finally called to leave at 8:22. Normally that’s not a big problem, but (as had been observed the previous evening),