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TABLE OF CONTENTS

Page One

Page Two

Page Three:

October, 2003: Pennsylvania-Bound

November, 2003: Our Weekend to Shine!

February, 2004: Old Orchard Beach, Maine

March, 2004: Old Orchard Beach, Maine
(AKA: "It's Not Endurance if it Doesn't Hurt!")

June, 2004: Zephyr's First Show

July, 2004: Zephyr's First Parade

August, 2004: The Fryeburg 50
(AKA, "Buy a Taller Horse!")

February, 2005: The Barrel

Page Four

Page Five

Looking for more stories? Visit my New Blog!

We had almost 8 hours of driving ahead of us before we reached our overnight layover in Wappingers Falls, New York, so we quickly pulled out the Books on CD and started one up. The time passed quickly as we listened to “A Walk in the Woods;” our only interruptions were stops for gas and tolls. We enjoyed the irony of listening to a book about the Appalachian Trail as we drove parallel to it and then crossed the mountains themselves.

We arrived in Wappingers Falls around 11:30pm, and were greeted by Vee (“Horsenaround” on the bulletin boards at HorseCity.com) waving her arms wildly at the end of her driveway. I somehow managed to park the truck and trailer in the only muddy section of her driveway; we unloaded Zephyr and brought him into the round pen without incident. He walked straight to the hay she had placed on the ground and started eating. I topped off his water bucket, and when he heard that he came over and took a big drink.

Kortney and I retired to Vee’s big LQ trailer, and forced ourselves to stay awake long enough to prepare and eat sandwiches and macaroni salad. As soon as we’d choked down the food, though, we crawled up into the gooseneck section and fell asleep. We both slept like logs until my alarm went off at 5:30. It was still dark though, and Zephyr wasn’t calling for his breakfast, so I actually stayed in bed until almost 6:00. Finally, I got up and gave him fresh hay and water, then dumped his grain in a feed pan and peeled his blanket back far enough for me to give him a mini-massage on his shoulders, hips, and the backs of his hind legs. He leaned back into my hands, yawning through his breakfast, telling me how good my hands felt to him.

Vee came out a few minutes later with her little dogs. She turned out the light in my trailer, thinking I’d left it on all night, but then saw me in the gathering dawn light when she turned around. We spoke quietly for a few minutes, then she went in the barn to feed her horses. I followed her after a few more strokes on Zephyr’s shoulders and neck. She gave me an introduction to each of her five horses as they ate breakfast in their stalls, and we talked about their histories and her plans for them. It was a lovely morning, just warm enough not to shiver, and the air embraced us as we stood talking.

Finally I decided to go wake Kortney; it was 6:30am and I’d been planning to leave at 7 but the sky wasn’t even bright yet anyway. Kortney woke slowly but relatively cheerfully, with only a minimum of grumbling about the early hour. She went and used the small shower in the trailer, less to get clean than to wake up. While she showered, I feasted on yogurt and cantelope, and then changed my clothes.

I went out to the round pen to change Zephyr out of his turnout sheet and replace it with his knit-cotton traveling sheet. But he looked so ready to play that I put the sheet back down on the fence and ran across the pen, then stopped, turned, and called to him. He got this look on his face like “OOOH YEAH, let’s play!” and came running at a big trot. I ran around the pen for a while, throwing in lots of changes of direction and complete halts so he’d have to stay alert and think on his feet. He never took his eyes off me; if he’d been a dog he’d have been panting and barking in excitement. Finally I looked over to see Vee and Kortney standing, watching our antics, and realized it was getting to be time to leave. I leaned down and asked for a kiss.

I walked back over to the gate and had already unbuckled Zephyr’s turnout sheet halfway, when I realized we had decided to make a quick trip to Dunkin’ Donuts in Vee’s truck before we left. It was at that moment when he decided he wasn’t done running yet. With both belly straps and leg straps unbuckled, and the chest straps only barely connected, he took off around the round pen in a hand gallop, his mane streaming behind him halfway down his back. I didn’t call to him; I knew he was running from joy and that he wasn’t likely to stop just because I yelled “whoa.” I also knew that if the blanket did slip, he would stop when he felt it on his legs. So instead, I simply waited until he rounded the corner and was headed back towards me, then I stepped backwards and held up my hands in front of me, palms towards him. He changed direction and ran straight at me, stopping with his nose almost touching my hands. I grinned and rubbed his face, very proud of him indeed. Then I re-buckled his blanket and we drove off for our coffee.

When we got back I turned my rig around, then attached his leadrope and handed it to Kortney while I changed his blanket and put his shipping boots on. He loaded without a moment’s hesitation, even though he’d been in the trailer so long the day before.

Vee’s daughter showed up just in time to take a quick picture of us all before we drove away.

Vee was going to lead us to the highway, so we followed her down the driveway and across town. Suddenly, driving down a narrow and winding country road, we rounded a corner and found traffic stopped dead in front of us. I was able to stop the trailer without any trouble, and after a moment, Vee came back and said it looked like an accident had just happened, not even a minute before! She said she’d seen people running from the cars in front of her to the corner, and that she thought she could see a white passenger car and an 18-wheeler off the road. We sat for almost thirty minutes before a burly official-looking man said that there was someone still trapped in the white car, and that all the cars should turn around and go back because it would be a long while before the road was open again. Some cars had already turned around on their own, but there was no way I could turn my rig around without help from the emergency people. For one thing, emergency vehicles kept flying down the road from time to time.

The burly official-looking man said to wait until he told me it was OK; that he would get the cars around me to leave. After a few moments he gave me the go-ahead, so I asked Kortney to get out and keep an eye on all my corners while I turned. I was just pulling my truck’s nose over to the left side of the road when he yelled to Vee, “I thought she was gonna back her rig out of here to the stop light!?” I stopped, confused, and asked him to repeat himself. I knew I could turn here; it might be a 15-point turn instead of a 3-point turn, but I knew I could do it. Why did he want me to back out?

He repeated himself, looking belligerent. I smiled sweetly, quaking in my boots, thinking he wouldn’t let me leave after all if I couldn’t back out. “Oh, I’m sorry, I must have misunderstood you.” Then I pulled into position to back my rig down the wrong side of the road and out of the snarl of traffic. I looked out my passenger window at Kortney. She had a stricken look on her face; I gave her a brave smile and looked backwards out my driver’s window. The burly man shouted the encouraging phrase “just keep your wheels on the white line now, and you’ll be fine” over and over. Both my legs began to shake and my mouth got as dry as paper. Every now and then I would “lose it” quickly, and would have to pull forward to straighten my rig before trying again. I found myself wishing I had a gooseneck trailer; I’ve heard they’re easier to back up.

Almost 400 yards down the road, the burly man had been replaced by another official-looking man. This one seemed more pleasant. He smiled at me and said, “OK, you’re clear of the traffic, you’re OK to turn around here.”

I had been clear of the traffic where I’d started! I could have turned around THERE!

But I smiled at him and said thanks, then backed my trailer as far to the right side of the road as I could. Then cranked the wheel hard to the left, pulled forward and put my truck wheels as far to the left side of the road as I could. I had just put my foot on the brake when the official-looking man said quietly, “I don’t think I’d go any farther than that.” I looked further forward and realized that my wheels weren’t just on the edge of a roadside ditch, as I’d assumed. They were actually on the edge of a ravine! I was practically looking down the side of a mountain!

I just knew, knew with all my heart, that this was one of those moments when my gas pedal would stick. I’ve had the truck for three weeks, and one of the things that I need to get fixed sometime is that when the truck is cold, the gas pedal sometimes refuses to be pressed down without a lot of pressure. I had to seriously force myself to remove my foot from the brake pedal and place it on the gas.

The pedal stuck. The truck rolled gently forward. I closed my eyes, stomped my foot on the gas as hard as I could, and somehow remembered to crank the steering wheel in the direction that would swing the trailer around where I needed it to be. The next time I stopped, the back of the trailer was facing where I’d come from, and I was able to pull forward into the road and complete my turn. Somehow, I’d managed to do it in a 3-point turn instead of the 15 I’d anticipated.

It wasn’t until we were back on the road that Kortney told me what I’d done. When I’d backed down the road, it wasn’t just little passenger cars in the lane next to me; there had been a full-size schoolbus, a flatbed lumber truck, and one of those huge flatbed 18-wheelers with a couple of front-end loaders on it. Apparently, the kids on the school bus had pressed their noses to the glass, admiring Zephyr and exclaiming “she’s gonna back all the way down through here????” Kortney said I deserved a good-driving award. I felt like I deserved a good long soak in a hot tub, and maybe a beer. Instead, I just downed a 24-ounce bottle of water in about a minute flat.

When we got to the highway, we waved goodbye to Vee and started up our CD of “A Walk in the Woods” again. Our next 8 hours passed without incident, and we arrived at Crooked Creek Horse Park at 4:30 in the afternoon. This is basically what we saw, although this picture was taken the next day from the top of the grandstand.

We drove down the row...

...and stopped at the last barn, where we were greeted by two women and a teenage girl, all smiling broadly and waving.

We hopped out for introductions and hugs before parking and unloading. The first woman was Joanna, one of the event’s organizers, and “Joanna” on the GaitedHorse.net bulletin boards. Kortney and I would be staying at her house for the next two nights. The other woman was Pam (“Twila” on GaitedHorses.net), and she was accompanied by her 14-year-old daughter Dena. Dena and Kortney became friends immediately.

 

We settled Zephyr into a stall and gave him hay and water.

I decided to take him out for a short ride to stretch his legs. Once aboard, I halfway wished I’d lunged him first! With just the slightest touch of my legs, he was threatening to buck! I got him most of the way through that pretty easily, and rode around the barns for a little under a half-hour. When I came back to the trailer, I noticed that a boy of about 12 years old had latched onto Kortney and Dena, following them around like a shadow. His 6 year old brother drifted back and forth between them and his parents. At least, I assume he was with his parents the rest of the time… I didn’t really see where he went.

I met the new arrivals. There was Kate (“SeesSpots” from GaitedHorses.net) and her husband Zeke, Holly (“Holly” from GaitedHorses.net) and her husband Jeff, and several others.

It was around 7pm and the sky was getting dark when our little group coalesced and decided it was time to leave for dinner at the restaurant. I went over to the truck, pulled on the door handle, and with a sickening feeling realized it was locked and my keys weren’t in my pocket. I leaned my face against the window, straining to see, and was just able to pick out the edge of my keys sticking out from under my yellow jacket, in the middle of the bench seat.

“ARGH! Who locked the truck? I didn’t lock the truck. Kortney, did you lock the truck?” She had not. After some discussion, we decided that when Kortney was in the backseat getting herself a snack, the boys had been gathered around her and had leaned on the door, locking it with an elbow.

No worries, Joanna’s husband is 5 minutes away and is a mechanic. He has a ‘slim jim’ for unlocking doors when people lock their keys in. He came right over, but after 5 minutes, did not hold out much (any, really) hope of success.

No worries, I have US Rider, the equestrian motor plan. They could come unlock the truck while we were at the restaurant. I called out to borrow a cell phone, then walked to the window sticker to get the phone number, since my membership card was in my wallet, also in the truck.

No phone number was listed, just a web site. ARGH!

After an unsuccessful attempt to get the number from directory assistance, Joanna, Kortney, Dena and I hopped in her Blazer to go to her house and get the number from the website. When I logged onto their website and clicked on Contact Us, all I found was the number for the administrative offices. They were closed, but I reached for a pen as the voicemail said “If you’re calling for roadside assistance…”

I banged my head on the desk as the recorded woman finished her sentence with “…please hang up and dial the number on the back of your membership card!”

Joanna still wasn’t without hope. She wouldn’t let me call a locksmith; she grabbed the phone and started calling her friends to find out if any of them had AAA and could come pretend they’d been driving with me when it happened. After two or three unsuccessful calls, someone beeped through on the other line. It was her husband Jeff, calling to report that the truck was unlocked. It was slightly broken, but unlocked. I was 17 hours from home; I didn’t care what was broken, as long as the truck would still run!

When we got there, Jeff and Zeke were full of apologies. They’d gotten the back side window popped open enough to put an arm in, and unlocked the door with a dressage whip, but as they did so, the arm that locks the window in the open position broke. The window could still be locked shut, but not open. But I was 17 hours from home; I didn’t care what was broken, as long as the truck would still run!

Dinner was good but I think I slept through it. We arrived back at the house and I stayed up as long as I could, chatting, but finally crashed onto my air mattress somewhere around midnight or one. Kortney had crashed hours earlier.

Zephyr didn’t get his breakfast until after 7:30 on Saturday morning. I tried to get up earlier, but I was just too tired. Besides, I didn’t know my way back to the Horse Park so I had to wait and follow Joanna. Zephyr didn’t seem upset about the wait though. While he ate, I wandered over to introduce myself to Liz, our clinician. We had talked on the phone once, and emailed back and forth a few times. I’d sent her links to pictures of Zephyr, and also to my website for the Rhythm Beads, and she’d apparently been really looking forward to meeting me. She smiled pleasantly when I asked if she was Liz Graves, but when I introduced myself, she grinned widely and grabbed me in a bear hug! Then as soon as she let go, she grabbed me again! That was a relief; I’d been just dying to meet her too!

Kortney and I walked Zephyr back and forth along the dirt road that ran around the barns, trying to loosen him up a little after his long ride and night in the stall. Finally it was time for the clinic to start; we put him back in his stall and brought our canvas chairs to the indoor arena. The outdoor arena was too muddy.

We realized moments later that we would need much more clothing; even though the sun wasn’t out, the air inside the shaded indoor arena was much colder than the air outside. We stuck it out as long as we could though, because we were interested in the discussion of biomechanics that Liz was running through on a couple different horses. Finally, we decided to tack Zephyr up and begin his warmup, since I would be in the second pair of riders. Here are some pictures someone took while I was out warming him up, and which I was able to get copies of:

Zephyr’s warmup went about the same as the night before. He acted as if he’d like nothing more than to buck. I just rode him around for a while at a walk, asking little of him, just getting his muscles warmed up and letting him look at the scenery. Eventually, I decided he was ready to start moving faster. I was able to trot him a few times, but when I asked him to canter, he wouldn’t stay in it. I wasn’t concerned about that because his trot is how I can always judge how he feels; he was feeling great. I started to work a bit on his slow intermediate gait. I was really looking forward to Liz telling me what gait this was! I suspected it was a flatwalk, which I had been told was a slow running walk, and I was dying to know if I was right.

Finally it was our turn to go in the arena. We entered with a woman named Maria and her champagne-colored horse. Zephyr and I went first. I hopped off while Liz looked his saddle over to see if it fit. She concluded that it fit very well, but she did tighten the back part of the v-rigging to make it just a tad better. She loved my saddle! She brought everyone over to look at it more closely, explaining that the stirrups were hung in just the right place, that the panels were flared nicely, and that the back of the saddle was held in place nicely by the v-rigging. I was very happy to hear that she approved!

Then I got back on, a tad ungracefully I’m afraid, and we walked off. After a couple turns around the arena, she asked me to step him up into his intermediate gait. It turned out that the gait I thought was a flatwalk WAS a flatwalk, but that it wasn’t anything particularly unique to gaited horses. Liz said that all horses should have a flatwalk, that it was nothing more than nicely marching along. But she did see him moving in and out of a foxwalk, which is basically a really slow foxtrot! She said that was great, that his conformation told her this was the intermediate gait that he should be doing.

I’d have to watch the video again that Kortney took, but I have been told that from the moment I started riding Zephyr around the arena, Liz had been commenting to the crowd about how much she liked him. After a few minutes of watching his gaits, she asked me if she could ride. I said of course she could, I’d been hoping she would! Practically as soon as she was in the saddle, Liz started talking about how she’d like him to come visit her. After a few minutes of riding him, she got a really cute look on her face, turned to me, smiled, and started to speak. “I’ll trade you a… I’ll trade you one of my books for this horse.” It was all she had with her. I laughed, knowing she wasn’t serious, but taking it for the compliment that it was.

She worked with him for a few moments, asking him to lift his head higher and stick his nose out a little, trying to promote the head nod that he’d need for his foxwalk. She was making a bit of progress by the time she had me get back on. I was a little more graceful about it this time, thank heavens!

I was able to get him to flatwalk and foxwalk almost immediately, but he still kept falling back and forth between the two. At one point when he was foxwalking back towards the crowd, someone commented to me that it looked pretty comfortable. I said it was, and offered to let them ride him later to feel it. Liz, who was talking to an audience member at the other end of the arena, looked up and yelled “don’t you be offering rides on my horse, they have to ask ME now, not YOU!” I laughed again, knowing she wasn’t serious, but AGAIN taking it for the huge compliment that it was.

We were almost finished my session when she brought up the subject of the Rhythm Beads he wore around his neck. She told the crowd that anyone who rode outside should have a set! That they were good for warning animals and hunters that you were there, and that they were just so much fun, with the pendants and all. As if she hadn’t done enough, she then said “Other people make these, sure they do. I have a set someone else made. But Sharon’s are the crème de la crème! Nobody else is making them with these pendants, nobody else is making them out of glass, wood, or semiprecious stones. These, folks, are awesome!” From the moment I left the arena, I was besieged by folks wanting to pick out beads and pendants for their own set of Rhythm Beads.

I wasn’t really able to get back into the arena to watch any more clinics that day, but I did take Zephyr out and handwalk him a few times.

When we all got back to Joanna’s house for supper, there was a party raging. I got a couple people to help me bring in my 45-gallon tote with all my beading supplies, then I fetched Liz so she could figure out what she wanted to order. She ended up not being able to decide, so she ordered two necklaces and a cinch shoo-fly. Once that was taken care of, I started in on my orders. Good thing I had a small army gathered around me, begging to help. I had over a dozen necklaces to make, and it was already after 8pm!

Everybody got involved. Zeke put rings on the bells, and about six other people finished necklaces that I started the patterns for. I was amazed at how willing everyone was to help. They knew I’d driven 17 hours one way and needed my sleep, and they knew I needed their help. People really got a kick out of doing their own! They faded out one by one though, and by the time I finished at 2:30, only Pam (Twila) was still going strong. She was an angel, pushing me when I couldn’t keep my eyes open.

Instead of trying to clean up the mess I’d made, I simply moved my air mattress to the other room and slept under the pool table. I awoke five minutes later to discover that it was almost 8am.

Zephyr didn’t get his breakfast until 9am. And ten minutes later, I came into the stall with his saddle over my arm. Even as good-natured as he is, I was still surprised when he didn’t give me an attitude when I put the saddle on as he ate his hay! I had to hurry because today we were in the first pair, not the second. I cinched him up loosely and let him eat for another minute while I got myself ready, then I bridled him, tightened his cinch, and began warming him up along the dirt roads around the barn. He was better than the day before; not as much threatening to buck. I decided I’d better get right over to the arena because there were already some other horses waiting outside.

Liz actually ended up working with another horse first, on some bending and suppling exercises. While I waited, I parallel-parked Zephyr next to the last set of chairs. I was proud that he didn’t move a muscle for the half hour we stood there… a lot of the other horses we saw that weekend would move around and whinny to the other horses, but he just stood there quietly. He wasn’t asleep, but he kept his feet still while he watched the goings-on. At one point I even stretched out sideways across the saddle in order to stretch my back out, and he still just stood there.

When she got to him, Liz said right off that she’d been thinking about him as she lay in bed the night before, and that she’d decided to change him out of his Wonder Bit after all. She put him in an eggbutt-cheeked Billy Allen, then I hopped on. Once I realized I was supposed to hold my hands very still and let him bump against them as he nodded his head, I was able to get a foxwalk fairly consistently! I rode around for quite a while, practicing, while Liz talked to the crowd, took questions, and checked on our progress from time to time. All too soon, our turn was over.

It started to get sunnier as the day progressed.

Here are Holly and Joanna warming up for their turns in the arena:

Closeup of Joanna’s new necklace for Baylee:

Liz working with one of the other horses (the lighting was very poor and doctoring the picture didn't work too well):

All too soon, it was after 6pm and definitely time to start for home. I made sure to get a picture with Liz before we left.

Our only consolation about leaving was that we were boarding Zephyr overnight in the same barn that was hosting the horses from White Stallion Productions (The World Famous Lipizzan Stallions)! We made the 4.5 hour drive to our layover in Bloomsburg, PA, without incident. When we arrived, the Lipizzan people were still there. There were about ten of them and as we pulled in they were all climbing into the cab of the semi truck that hauled their enormous horse van. Kortney and I mused that there must be three rows of bench seats in there.

They pulled out of the parking lot a moment later and we went in to bed Zephyr down for the night. This is the barn aisle:

We weren’t able to get pictures of any of the stallions that night because it was too dark in the barn. We left for our hotel pretty quickly, and when we got there it took me forever to park the rig to my satisfaction! I was so tired I just couldn’t get it right. I ended up parking along the side of the lot, with my tires right next to the grass where I wanted them, but it took me way too long to do. The whole time, we were watched by several bunny rabbits. If you look hard you can see one at the center of this picture:

We checked in to the hotel at 11:50 and asked where we could eat. The restaurant right next door closed at midnight and was no longer seating people, but we were starving so we crossed the divided highway and walked down the road a bit to the truck stop. Oddly, those little bunny rabbits were everywhere! It was impossible to walk along without scaring them out of our way. We were so tired that we found ourselves half-running through the darkness, hugging ourselves in the cold air, making bunny faces and joking about how we would probably come back to find that the truck had been scratched up by revengeful bunny claws!

The restaurant was warm, and there were coin-operated TVs at all the tables. For the heck of it we started ours up. Somehow, out of twenty channels, we managed to pick one that had horses in it a few minutes later. Weird.

Our salads were tasty, but soon our eyes were drifting shut. We paid and headed back to the hotel. The truck wasn’t scratched up; we grabbed our bags and headed up to our room. As tired as we were, neither one of us wanted to go to sleep without seeing a bit of the video Kortney had made of our sessions! the air in the room was very cold and the heater didn’t seem to be working, so we curled up on my bed under the covers to watch it, then went to bed afterwards.

In the morning, it was pretty hard to drag ourselves out of bed. We got down to the lobby to find the Lipizzan people at the tables down there eating the Continental Breakfast. There wasn’t much being offered though so we just went out to the truck.

As we walked across the lot, we passed the big semi truck that the Lipizzan people came in. I was putting my bags in the truck when a man climbed down from the big truck cab and waved at us. I took the opportunity to walk over and introduce myself, of course! He recognized my truck from the night before. His name was Richard, and he was the driver. This truck was usually just for him, but the bus for the riders and grooms had broken down, so he’d had to bring half the group along to take care of the horses. Apparently there were no other seats in the back; they’d all been smooshed onto his bed for the trip!

Kortney came over then and we visited for a moment, but then headed back over to the barn. We got Zephyr ready to go and shortly after we had him on the trailer, Richard and the riders showed up again. They hooked up their truck to the horse van and began to clean out the stalls inside. There were five rows, and each was three horses wide.

We went back inside with Richard and he walked us along the rows of horses, introducing us to them and telling us a little about them. This one was our favorite, he’s actually an Andalusian.

These were a few of the others. Some of them wouldn’t stand still enough for pictures!

After we left, there wasn't much that happened of particular note. Unless, of course, you count having passed THIS a few times. There were two of them, traveling at about 25mph down the highway. We passed them once, then stopped for lunch and had to pass them again afterwards. In case you're wondering, YES, it was indeed longer than your normal flatbed truck. Probably twice as long.

Monday's part of the drive took 12.5 hours. We drove into the barnyard at 9:30 pm and all we did was drop Zephyr off and unhook the truck. It rained the next day, and snowed the day after that, and last night I was too tired, so neither the truck nor the trailer has been unloaded yet.

We leave in two weeks for the Equine Affaire. I may just leave everything where it is.

Old Orchard Beach: March, 2004

Our friends Bill and Stephanie invited us to ride at Old Orchard Beach in Scarborough. The whole beach is over 7 miles long but there's a pier that you can't go past, about 4 miles down.

They allow horses from Oct. 15 until April 30. That's a whole month longer than Popham Beach where I have gone before!

We met Bill and Stephanie at the beach. It was the perfect day for it, in the mid 40's and sunny with just a light breeze at first. I was fine without a jacket... the others wore long sleeve shirts under windbreakers or coats. I was a little hot with my winter socks, boots, and tights on, and we've still got a full two months that we can go back and ride!! Too bad it's almost 3 hours from here, darnitalltoheckandbackthatsjustnotfair!

We got there around 10:30 and since I had a lot of gear to rig onto my saddle I was the last one ready. We walked for a good long time and when we eventually started trotting, Zephyr and Nettie did not want to stay with our friends. It was Stephanie's first outing with a new horse, and she was taking it really easy! No cantering, and lots of trot/walk transitions. So we said "smellyalata" (with their blessing) and took off, both horses volunteering a beautiful extended trot.

Eventually Nettie hit high gear and Zephyr had to canter to keep up (his top trotting speed is only about 13.5 mph while hers is almost 15... those short legs of his!). Both horses just kept going faster and faster, so we egged them on and had a nice gallop. There were a few people around, so when we passed them we pulled up into a canter, then off we'd go again. What fun!

When we got almost as far as the pier, we waited by the water for our friends. Then a bunch of trotting back towards the trailer, but much more slowly because Stephanie's horse was getting too excited. At one point Traci and I got way far ahead, and I asked someone to take pictures of us trotting by. (I have almost NO pictures of Zephyr moving at ANY speed!) We ended up trotting back and forth a few times. He was thrilled to help out, and we practically had to pry my camera out of his hands when Bill and Steph caught up!

Too bad they were only doing a slow working trot in this shot... I was really hoping for some pictures of them extending!!

Stephanie and Bill on their new Arabians, Kory and Summer.

At one point I got kinda bored and decided to see whether Zephyr would leave the other three horses and canter back towards the pier. He did, and happily! So proud I was. There was a little bit of lugging towards the dry sand but nothing serious. I turned around and let him have a nice gallop to catch up.

A few minutes later, we came upon some people who were flying kites. Stephanie's horse had seen kites before and it was NOT pretty, so I trotted up to them and asked them if they'd mind bringing the kites down until the other horses were past. They were happy to. I was so proud, Zephyr never batted an eye, but I don't think he's ever seen a kite before!

Stephanie was tired of jigging, so they went back to the trailer while Traci and I continued on to the section of calm water we'd seen near the end of the beach. That was the 30 feet of water that we crossed in order to get onto the sandbar. It was almost belly deep... good practice.

There were several other places where shallower water crossed the sandbar, and we had no trouble there either. In fact, at one point Nettie trotted right across a section of wet sand that in the past would have made her throw on the brakes! We trotted all the way to the end (walking through all the water crossings) and I said "Hey, let's see if they'll trot all the way back, through the water and everything!"

On the way back down the sandbar to the beach.

We did, and they did! Two of the three water crossings were about knee deep, and maybe 15 feet wide. The last one was especially cool... Traci had stopped Nettie at the edge and I decided to see whether Zephyr would trot right past her through the water. He did! He got about 15 feet across (halfway) before the water got so deep that he couldn't lift his feet high enough anymore. I was so proud!

We'd been riding for about 2 hours at that point, with lots of trotting, cantering, and galloping, and the horses were not tired. If anything, they were more ready to GO than they'd started! That's a great thing to see when you're riding a horse you're training for distance competition!!!

We went back to the trailer, loaded up, and had a nice lunch with our friends at a famous local restaurant. I had the best banana cream pie I've ever tasted!

Old Orchard Beach: April, 2004

Traci and I took the horses to Old Orchard Beach again last weekend. It’s a two and a half hour drive, so the plan was to ride on Saturday with Bill (Steph was busy), then stay Saturday night with them, and all ride together again on Sunday. We had been looking forward to visiting with them, and also to the steak dinner and hot tub that awaited us, ever since our last trip down.

On Friday night I planned to hook up the trailer, check the tire pressure, and load the hay/water/tack. But when I arrived I found that there was an enormous mud puddle right where I’d need to get out of the truck while hitching up! I switched to a different pair of boots, a pair that had a rubber foot part and a leather lace-up upper. It was the best I could do, but it wasn’t good enough because the puddle turned out to be a good 10” deep! Since I was hitching up alone, I had to get in and out of the truck several times to check my work. After the first three times, I decided the next time my boots would surely soak through, so maybe I should try jumping from the truck to the outer edge of the puddle. Unfortunately, I underestimated the width of the puddle, and overestimated the distance I could leap! I ended up thoroughly soaked, but I did manage to finish my pre-trip chores with the help of a change of jeans.

On Saturday morning, Traci and I got to the barn at around 4:30. It was pouring! We were both glad that since I had done everything I could the night before, all we would have to do was brush the (muddy) ponies and load ‘em up. We planned to leave the barnyard no later than 5:30 so we could stop for gas and food, and still get to the beach by 8:30 to meet Bill.

The front part of our barn has a couple of tack rooms just inside the front door, off to the left and up a 12” (or so) step. I came out of the tack room into the barn aisle, carrying my shipping boots and brush box, and had just stepped down onto the barn floor with my right foot, when suddenly it twisted underneath me! I actually heard a really loud pop, and then felt excruciating pain! I dropped my stuff and sat down hard onto the step while a bloodcurdling scream rattled the barn roof. I was still screaming when our barnlord and Traci came running to my aid. I am sorry to say that my choice of wording was not very nice! All I could think of (besides the pain) was how mad I was that this had to happen on the weekend of our beach trip... I was bound and determined that we would NOT miss out on this!

Traci ran for the first aid kit in the trailer (very easy to locate, thanks to my new storage system), and meanwhile I managed to stop screaming. Arthur had me extend my leg, and after a minute I was able to slip my shoe off for inspection. We decided that since I could wiggle my toes without pain, I’d probably just pulled something, or popped something out and then back in. We vet wrapped it, and they set me up in the doorway with my foot on some stuff to keep it elevated. I asked Traci to brush my horse for me because darnit, we were still going even if only Traci got to ride!

Traci started brushing Nettie and I could tell it was going to be time consuming to get all that mud off. There was no way we’d leave remotely on time if Traci had to groom both horses! Luckily, the pain was starting to subside. I stood up to test it, and found that I could walk without extreme pain, so I went to brush Zephyr.

We got done in a reasonable amount of time and loaded the horses. I had thought I’d ask Traci to drive but she’d never driven this rig and I knew she wasn’t excited to try it for the first time when it was fully loaded. I decided to use cruise control once we were on the highway, and switch off to Traci if I absolutely had to.

We were about an hour and a half away from home when we both decided we really needed to stop and use the facilities. Luckily, there was a rest stop ahead. It turned out that the state police were using the rest stop for a mandatory truck check... I wasn’t sure if I was legally supposed to stop but I suspected I was, and we had to pee anyway, so we stopped.

The policemen were all wearing long yellow rain slickers. I buzzed my window down. “I wasn’t sure whether we had to stop.”

The rain dripped off the plastic-covered brim of his hat as he nodded. “Yep, ya do. Where ya headed?”

“We’re going riding at Old Orchard Beach.”

There was a long pause; I watched the rain course down the folds in his rain slicker.

“Huh. You sure picked a day for it!”

“We ride Endurance and Competitive Trail. It doesn’t count if it’s easy,” we laughed. I didn’t bother to mention that we were also going in spite of a newly sprained ankle.

He looked startled and confused. “Well anyway, I need to see your registration please.”

A little background here... Maine has a law that I’ve heard is kind of unusual. They require all pickups towing livestock trailers to be registered as a Commercial vehicle because the gross vehicle weight will be more than 6,000 pounds. So when I registered my new truck last spring, I told them I needed a commercial plate because I would be hauling a horse trailer, and needed the 9,000 pound weight rating. I remember paying the extra $3 for it.

“Huh. You aren’t registered for a high enough gross vehicle weight. They’ve got you listed as Commercial but only at 6,000 pounds!”

Long story short... the DMV obviously screwed up my registration, and now I have to go back and pay another $3 to have it fixed. No big deal, but we’d now lost another 25 minutes.

Back on the road after our potty break, we decided to call Bill and Steph’s house to let them know about our delays. We didn’t give specifics; figured the gory details would wait! The rest of the trip went smoothly and we arrived at the beach just after the rain quit and the clouds started to clear.

Bill was there waiting next to his new rig, the U.S.S. Big Ass Trailer. When I got out and limped across to him, he rightfully forgave us our 45 minute delay!

After inspecting his new trailer we all tacked up and I gingerly mounted. Gee, a 14.2h horse seems a lot taller when you can’t hop up and down on your right foot!

Luckily, when I tested my weight on it in the stirrup, I decided it would be just fine. As long as I locked my ankle and allowed my toe to stray to the outside a bit, I didn’t really notice any pain.

We headed across the parking lot and out onto the beach. It was the bottom of low tide, so the beach was wide and flat, with wonderful hardpack footing. All three horses were full of vinegar, as they say! They love the beach, it’s their only chance to really stretch out. The wind was at our backs, the sun was out, and the temperature was probably in the mid 40s. Once we started trotting, we all started stripping! The gloves and windbreakers just HAD to GO!

After a bit of argument with both Zephyr and Nettie, we settled into a nice slow trot to match Bill’s horse Summer. Apparently his big trot is very uncomfortable, so Bill either trots at about 8 mph, or canters. We probably did a mile or so at that speed before we started extending the trot, and eventually cantering. Traci and I also got in a bit of a gallop. I had to take it easy because I wasn’t totally sure how strong my ankle was, and the posting trot had already kind of tired it out. Still though, it was a lovely fast gallop, even if it wasn’t as long as we would have liked!

We rode for about an hour and a half. Because we got there just after the rain stopped, we had the entire beach to ourselves! There were a few people, but not many, and no other horses. It was a wonderful treat!

There is a pier at the far end of the beach from the parking lot, and a sandbar at the near end. The distance between them is about 3.7 miles. You can see the pier here, and the sandbar would be at the top of the picture if it was low tide... but in this picture it's actually close to high tide so the sandbar is pretty much gone. At low tide the beach is twice as wide.

Once we got back to the sandbar end, we crossed the knee-deep water onto the sandbar and played around in the tide pools out there, letting the horses trot through them and splash water up onto their bellies to cool themselves. We were disappointed to not be able to get them into the surf. Zephyr had gone in on his very first beach trip (Nettie wasn’t there) with the help of my friend who was on foot, but since then, neither had been willing. This was his fourth trip and her third... we’d had high hopes. Oh well, no big deal, the time will come!

We walked back to the trailer smiling from ear to ear.

On the way to Bill’s house we stopped at a store, so I took the opportunity to get a picture of the two rigs together. This, my friends, is the U.S.S. Big Ass Trailer – not the biggest trailer out there, for sure, but the biggest I’ve ever been privileged to set foot in! It’s only a 3h slant but the living quarters are HUGE. My trailer, in comparison, is a 2h straight load with dressing room.

Once at Bill’s, we settled Zephyr and Nettie into a paddock together and stood back hoping the sparks wouldn’t fly. They’ve never shared a paddock, and Nettie has studded shoes on! We turned them loose and they trotted off together, then Nettie swung her butt over and he followed suit... they kicked at each other with both hind feet for a couple seconds, and squealed a lot, but they were done before Traci and I could do more than yell. Still, we were about to take them out of the paddock when Bill promised that was all they’d do. He was right – from that moment on they were inseparable and followed each other around like shadows. He was wrong, however, when he said that if they rolled they would choose the dry spot in the middle! Pretty soon after the kicking match, Nettie rolled “right good” in the muddiest, wettest spot in the paddock. Zephyr, ever the narcissist, stayed clean. Bless his heart!

We had a relaxing afternoon, marked only by changes of ice on my ankle and a “quick” trip to the feed store 30 minutes away, where I bought more vetwrap while waiting for Bill to load his grain.

Back home again, we enjoyed thick Porterhouse steaks and potatoes off the grill, green beans, and salad with a wonderful homemade dressing. A quick break to bed the horses down in stalls for the night, and then about 20 minutes in the hot tub before we climbed exhausted into bed.

The next morning, Traci and I were awake before Bill called for us at 6. Chores weren’t as quick as they could have been, we sure were moving slow! After chores, we sat down to a lovely broccoli/cheese/onion frittata, with home fries, cantaloupe, and toast. Folks sure don’t starve at Bill and Steph’s house!!

Bill mentioned that several other riders were going to meet us at the beach at 9:30. We already knew that Bill liked to be on time, but he’d been telling us a story that morning which made it clear that he actually WILL NOT be late, EVER. So after arriving 45 minutes late the day before we were bound and determined to have our horses ready and loaded before theirs! We made it; we were sitting in our truck ready to go before their horses even got on the trailer. We were VERY proud... we never leave on time for anything.

When we arrived at the beach there were no other trailers. A Jeep Cherokee pulled up just across from us and a woman got out. “Are you coming or going?”

“We’re just getting here.”

She smiled. “I’m a reporter for the Falmouth Forecaster. Two years ago I took a picture of a horse whose owner lets him roll on the beach after a ride. The film was ruined. I’d love to recreate the shot, do any of you let your horses do that?”

We explained that no, we weren’t willing to do that because we’d have to blanket sandy, sweaty horses. Bill told her it was probably Kathy who she’d taken that picture of, and that Kathy would be along shortly. She was happy to hear that.

She said she’d also like to take a few pictures of our horses running on the beach, if that was all right. We agreed and she took all our names and the breeds of our horses.

We unloaded and tacked up. Still no sign of Bill’s friends. Finally, at around 9:45, we mounted and headed for the beach.

The photographer was crouching ahead of us on the beach, and took our picture as we came between the fences through the dunes. Then we trotted down the beach and back up towards her. When we were past, we waved and took off for the sandbar.

We played a little in the water down there, then headed back down the beach towards the pier. Again, we tried to maintain a pretty slow trot. At one point, we came across a woman with a little yappy dog (terrier I think) who was loose and started chasing us. She was so annoying – she kept saying “bad dog, come here Spot!” She’d walk towards him, and he’d walk away, but even when she got within a couple feet of him she still didn’t lunge for him and grab him. Talk about the quintessential wimpy/passive owner! We finally got past her. We reached the pier and turned back. A while later, the beach was empty, wide, and inviting, so Traci and I told our friends we were going to turn back towards the pier for a gallop. Bill laughed, gestured at the woman and the yappy terrier that I hadn’t realized we’d just passed again (they were down by the water line), and said “OK, but make sure you avoid that yapper!” We laughed but sure enough, when we turned around and began to canter, there came the dog! Traci was ahead of me when I decided the only thing to do was outrun the dog. I kissed to him and squeezed, and he took off like he hadn’t even been moving before. The poor little yapper hadn’t a chance... but I hope he made his owner run a good distance after him anyway!

Zephyr’s mane tangled in my reins and blew into my face... quite an accomplishment since I was basically standing straight up in my stirrups because it was the most stable position for my ankle! We galloped quite a while this time, then walked back to meet up with Bill and Steph.

After we met up with them, we all cantered a little. Traci and I were just considering the possibility of another gallop when we saw more horses headed our way. It turned out to be Bill and Steph’s friends. I had known Kathy and Tom were pretty famous riders, but they were both wearing USA East Endurance jackets, which I assume they got by winning some pretty hefty rides! Kathy looked more intimidating because her jacket was spotless and she wore an American Flag helmet. Once I thought about it, I realized that she actually competed in the World Equestrian Games (or something like that) overseas a couple years ago. WOW!

Tom looked less intimidating because his jacket was pretty dirty and beat up. Plus, once I saw him I realized I already knew him. He hosted my first 50 mile endurance ride last summer, and I remembered that he was a really friendly, nice, and talkative guy. He actually remembered me from that ride, and also remembered having seen Traci at Crooked River later in the fall! I was impressed! There was also a young girl with them, I think it was Tom’s daughter.

The pace picked up a bit once we met up with the other riders. We went back and forth between a working trot (10 mph?), extended trot (13 mph?), and canter. Traci and I had been keeping our eyes on the ever-increasing numbers of people on the beach, watching for our chance to gallop again. When we finally saw our chance, it was just us and Tom. Neither of us thought to tell him what we were up to. We zoomed away so fast I had to bury my fingers in his mane! I can’t quite remember but I think he joked with us about that later.

When we all reached the sandbar end of the beach, Traci and I went over to join Kathy in the surf. We asked if she minded if we used her horse to try and accustom our horses to the waves; of course she said no problem. Tom joined us pretty quickly, and with the other two horses’ help, Zephyr and Nettie waded in up to their knees. Nettie has a habit of getting in front of Zephyr and then cutting him off just to annoy him; she was in the middle of doing that when a wave came in and she started walking sideways to try and avoid being eaten by it. That wouldn’t have been a problem if she hadn’t been in the middle of cutting him off – she ended up broad siding us on my bad side. I couldn’t hold back the yelps as my bad ankle got squeezed hard between the two horses.

That seemed to be the clincher for Nettie though; after that, she decided the waves wouldn’t eat her after all. All four horses waded happily along the beach in water up to their bellies, until we reached the sandbar. We trotted and cantered to the end, through the tide pools and everything. I could tell Zephyr was beginning to get just a little tired, because he began to cross canter from time to time.

As we got back onto the beach from the sandbar, I mentioned to Tom that since he’d last seen Zephyr, we’d figured out what his extra gait was and started developing it. I showed him the foxtrot and explained that now, when other horses were jigging, I could keep up with them easily without getting my brains rattled out! He looked impressed.

We got off at the beach exit and walked them across the parking lot to the trailers. As we untacked we saw a stock trailer pull in with a bunch of horses already saddled. When they unloaded, we were amused to look over and see an odd collection of equines! There was a big Belgian with a tiny Western saddle, an Appy, a brown horse, and a teensy tiny shaggy Shetland. A few minutes later the group rode by… I didn’t get a picture in time but it was just TOO funny! The little kid on the Belgian was much smaller than the kid on the Shetland! I did manage to get a picture after they’d passed us by and were down at the other end of the lot. You can’t see the Shetland (he was in front of the brown horse) but you sure can see the Belgian with his little boy!!

We were almost ready to leave when Kathy came walking by on foot, leading her horse. She was obviously very angry! It turned out that she had just gotten off him at the edge of the beach when an enormous dog came running up to her and jumped against her horse’s left shoulder. The horse, who wasn’t expecting an attack, had no time to brace himself so he fell over. The dog’s owner actually had the nerve to be angry at Kathy for having a horse on the beach!! I could NOT believe it! The horse wasn’t injured and didn’t seem traumatized, but GEEZ!

Traci and I pulled out of the parking lot about 30 minutes later than we’d planned. I was supposed to pick Lou up at the airport at 3:30, but I wasn’t going to get back to the barn until 3 and there wasn’t any way I would be able to unload, unhitch, and get back to the airport in time. We decided to swing by and pick him up on our way home.

It’s an International airport but it’s still very small compared to what you’re all probably used to. When we got there I realized that even if I left Traci with the truck, we’d have to park in one of the lots instead of alongside the access road. I figured the airport police wouldn’t be happy with a large vehicle like that just sitting alongside the road… suspicious activity and all.

We eyed the entrance to the Short Term Parking Lot for a good long time, and decided that we’d make it. It didn’t look any narrower than the average toll booth lane, and there seemed to be plenty of open parking spaces on the other side. We made it through fine and I parked lengthwise across four or five spaces. Traci started moving stuff around to make room for Lou while I went inside to wait for him.

His plane was right on time and he was amused to see the whole rig in the parking lot. After we loaded his luggage and started to pull out, I was distracted and missed the exit of the lot. Straight ahead turned out to be a dead end so I had to back straight out to where we’d been parked, then because the exit was narrower than the entrance (wish we’d known that!) I had to pull out wide and also do a 3-point turn to get lined up for it. I had Traci and Lou get out and spot for me!

We made it out of the parking lot, and back to the barn, without further incident.

What a weekend! Here’s hoping we get to go again soon - but without the injury!

The Fryeburg 50: August, 2004

FRIDAY:

I stayed up packing until around 1am on Friday morning, then got up again at 5am to load the Blue Beast and get to the barn, but ended up taking longer than planned and didn’t get down there until 7. Traci was also running late; she showed up around 7:30. We loaded up the hay and water, packed her gear into the truck, loaded the horses, and pulled out around 9am. (WOW you need a lot more stuff for a two-day ride! The Blue Beast was packed to the gills!)

After a quick stop to top off the gas tank and buy coffee, we were on our way. I drove for the first hour or two, then asked Traci to take over because I was sleepy. I read articles out loud from the Endurance News magazine to keep us both awake. Specifically, there was a very interesting article about correcting crookedness in both horse and rider.

Suddenly, Traci interrupted me to ask “What exit do we want?” I checked the map and reported that we needed Exit 12.

“Oh crap. We just passed 11!”

I checked the map again and started swearing. We were traveling southwest on the highway, and had already gone about 10 miles past our exit. Exit 10 looked like it was about 10 miles further ahead, so if we turned around there, it would be around an extra 40 miles, round trip. Plus, because of the way the roads were laid out and the fact that final destination was northwest of our current position, it looked like it would be quicker to just take Route 302 northwest along the shore of Sebago Lake, rather than going back northeast to the exit we missed and heading due west from there.

So, we got off at Exit 10 and stopped at a gas station to double-check that we should take 302 instead of retracing our steps to Exit 12. We told the clerks that we had a horse trailer, and we specifically asked if that route was bumpy, hilly, or otherwise an unwise route for us to choose. They swore 302 was the way to go. Then we spent a good 30 minutes trying to find it… even though it looked from the map as if it should have been RIGHT THERE! Finally, we did find it.

Not long after we turned onto 302, we ran into construction. The road had been stripped to dirt and they were only letting one lane through at a time. We crossed our fingers that it was only the half-mile or so that we could see ahead of us… but alas, it was not to be. I don’t know how far it ended up being, but if we had known about it, we would have taken the highway! It became two lanes again pretty soon, but even so, we lost SO much time there! I called Serendell to update her on our trip; it was fun to talk to her about traveling to a horse event while she was stuck at work. Hee hee.

The scenery was relatively pretty once we got back onto pavement, but we were thrilled when we finally hooked back up with our intended route. As we neared Fryeburg we stopped at a hardware store to buy a tarp in case of rain.

We finally pulled into the Fryeburg Fairgrounds at 3pm… six hours after leaving home, and 2 hours later than we had planned. We later figured out that we’d only added about 50 miles to our trip, but spent so long sitting in traffic that we lost much more time than we would have otherwise. Oh well.

We checked in at the office and found a good place to park. There were two shedrows of stalls, with horses stabled on both sides. We chose the second building, on the side facing the field. Here is our setup… you can see Zephyr’s head just to the left of the back of the trailer. There were water spigots all along the barn at about 30-foot intervals, and one of them was right next to our stalls. What luxury! There was even a manure pile in the center of each shedrow (which we were careful to park some distance from).

Looking just to the right of the last shot:

And just to the right again:

Keep in mind that the rigs you see in the pictures above are only a tiny fraction of the total. Many folks hadn’t arrived yet, AND this was only half of the available parking area.

The stalls hadn’t been stripped; they’d been picked through but we still had to finish cleaning old poop out of them before moving our horses in. We dumped the sawdust we’d brought from home on top of the old sawdust, just because we could. (I packed sawdust for Zephyr’s stall, because if they’d only had shavings available, it would have taken me a couple hours to pick them all out of his mane and tail.)

We had tied the horses on their Hi Ties while we worked on the stalls. As soon as I walked away from him, Zephyr dropped and rolled for three or four minutes straight. I sighed, thinking of all the time I’d spent bathing him on Thursday night, getting him spotless for presentation to the vets. Oh well.

Finally, we got camp MOSTLY set up and the horses settled in their stalls. I groomed Zephyr over again and we headed over to vet in at around 5pm, I think. Everything was going well until the rain started. Zephyr’s skin pinch and jugular refill were optimal, even after a long road trip with no water. His capillary refill time (CRT) was 1 second. He had above average gut sounds. (Darnit… that’s gonna be hard to match at the end of the second day of riding! You lose points for any parameter that your horse is worse on at the end of the ride.)

Just as we started trot-outs, the rain started and we heard thunder. The combination made for an especially “alert” and “forward” looking horse during the trot out! Darnit… you want your horse to look as asleep and lazy as possible on the first day.

As we walked back to the trailer, it started to really rain. Heavy sheets of rain, and maybe even a few slushballs… wannabe hail. We congratulated ourselves on wearing our raincoats and Aussie hats; after our experience last fall at Crooked River we were thrilled to be staying nice and dry. Zephyr started bouncing around at the end of the lead, and apparently Nettie knocked Traci to her knees and nearly walked on her! I didn’t know that until she told me later, since I wasn’t looking.

We hustled them to their stalls and suddenly I heard Traci yell, “the sliding windows on the truck cap are open, and our bedding is getting soaked!” I ran over and opened the cap’s tailgate door, then climbed over the truck tailgate and stripped off my dripping raincoat and hat so I wouldn’t make the problem worse. Then I realized that since we hadn’t yet put the tarp on top of the truck, the slant of the open cap tailgate was causing rain to stream down it and through the hinge crack into the truck bed, where it ran down the slight incline to the front of the truck bed where our bedding was. Yelling for Traci to bring towels, I shut the cap’s tailgate and scrambled to get our bedding out of the path of the streaming water at the same time as I slid the windows shut. In vain, I tried to stop the flow of water with my hands. Finally I gave up, opened the cap tailgate again and ran (raincoat-less) to find a towel. I spotted Traci huddled against the wall of the barn under the eaves, staying out of the rain. She hadn’t heard me yelling for her… the rain was too loud!

I ran back to the truck and wiped up the mess as well as I could. The rain tapered off as we got out the tarp. Because of the wind, it took quite a while to get it the way we wanted it.

I was puttering around camp when I spotted a black Toyota Tundra and trailer driving by. I’d been emailing back and forth with a girl named Amy who was going to do her first CTR the next day, and we had decided to let her ride with us. (Normally, riders are sent out in pairs, but they’ll allow groups of three if requested.) I flagged her down and she parked next to us. We visited for a few minutes and then went to change out of our wet clothes.

Shortly after that, dinnertime was announced. We hadn’t planned to buy a meal at the ride, but we had absolutely no urge to unhook the trailer and go to town. So instead we handed over the $8 each and then discovered that we were allotted one hamburger. Since neither of us can eat bread or pasta salad, that was ALL we got… one hamburger patty with cheese. And in the end we decided we couldn’t even eat THAT because no matter how many times we had the cook put it back on the grill, the center was still pink. Yuck. We chalked it up to a lesson learned… next time, unhook the truck.

We spent a pleasant evening snacking out of our food stash and visiting with folks, then went to bed early. We ended up laying there awake for quite a while because the folks down the row were still talking fairly loudly, and because the lights of the barn had been left on. Even with the tarp over all the truck windows, it was pretty bright! Finally though, everyone settled in for the night and some kind soul shut off the lights. (It was then that we discovered we had parked under the only light pole in the camping area. Oh well.)

The ride was due to start at 7am, with a 6:30am riders’ meeting, so we set our alarm for 5am. I ended up waking off and on all night because a nearby horse kept coughing (hopefully it was heaves, and not some horrible illness!) and various horses kept whinnying.

SATURDAY:

It was really warm on Saturday morning; we were comfortable outdoors in the shorts and T-shirts we’d slept in. We got up as soon as the alarm went off, fed the horses, ate breakfast, changed into our riding clothes, got our tack out, dosed the horses with electrolytes, set our hold bins next to Amy’s truck so her husband could bring them to the hold for us, hooked the horses to the trailer, tacked up, and headed to the riders’ meeting (leaving the horses tied). I had to ask Amy’s husband Mike to watch Zephyr closely to make sure he didn’t roll in his sandpit while he was saddled. He told me later that Zephyr did indeed try to roll, and was pretty disgusted when Mike wouldn’t let him. Apparently Mike made up for it though… he allowed Zephyr to rub his head on him as much as he wanted!

The riders’ meeting was less than informative. They were operating under the assumption that everyone present had ridden the course before. There were no maps, just flags along the trail. Yet Traci, Amy, and I were scheduled to lead the pack out at 7am (everyone else following in pairs at 2 minute intervals), and we didn’t even know where the starting gate was! We got that straightened out and headed back to the trailer to collect our horses. We were mounted and waiting by the gate a few minutes early. Nettie and Zephyr were both dancing around eagerly. I think Amy’s rookie horse Cayden was behaving himself… but then again, I wasn’t really paying attention to anything other than staying in the saddle.

We headed through the out gate at a very forward and eager trot, with both Nettie and Zephyr pulling hard. I don’t know about Cayden because Amy was keeping him well behind our maniacs on hooves. We turned onto a lovely forest single-track with pine needle footing and some small uphills / downhills (more like moguls than hills). Zephyr and Nettie made it clear that their preferred trotting speed was at least 15 miles an hour… I know for certain that they were beating their previous record of 14.5 mph. Amy asked us to go slower because Cayden kept stumbling. Out of the forest into a sandy clearing, down the side of a paved road, into the woods again, etc. etc. etc… I lost track. Amy was having trouble with Cayden. She couldn’t ask him to trot downhill at all because he was stumbling and she didn’t feel safe, so we got passed by quite a few horses. Even through my gloves, I got blisters from trying to hold Zephyr back.

Eventually we turned down a dirt camp road, where the trail led directly through a campground! The horses didn’t even blink at the clotheslines, canoes, camp fires, or other sights. They were still pulling hard, too. The trail went back into the woods (still in the campground) and Zephyr and I enjoyed a nice canter around a curvy ATV-width trail and past a few more camp sites.

We came out of the woods to a bizarre sight. In front of us was a wide beach, not really sand but more like tiny gravel… reddish rock chipped into pieces of less than 1/8”. What was odd about it was that there were dozens of tents set up on the beach. I know I wouldn’t want to camp on a beach, can you imagine how much of that chipped rock “sand” those campers found in unmentionable places?!

We walked slowly down the beach. The dry “sand” was very deep and hard to walk in. When we got to the far left side where the beach ended, we saw horses ahead of us crossing the river. Ride volunteers and crew members were standing on the opposite bank, cheering and taking pictures. I suddenly noticed that the water appeared to be MUCH deeper than I’d assumed. It was lapping at the riders’ knees! Good Lord! We were less than 5 miles into a 25 mile ride, and we were going to get our feet soaked?!

Complicating matters, flotillas of canoes, kayaks, inflatable rafts, inner tubes, and other non-motorized watercraft were drifting lazily downstream with their half-drunken passengers making no effort to steer them. Riders had to time their crossing so they wouldn’t get hit.

We tried to get the horses to drink, but they were much too interested in the activity around us. As we entered the water, I tried in vain to pull my feet up somehow. I was using both front and rear saddle packs and I couldn’t get my feet up behind the saddle. So I tried the front, up next to Zephyr's shoulders.

Traci and Nettie were in the lead, and Amy is bringing up the rear with Cayden. In this shot, Nettie is just about to step into the really deep spot. Look how relaxed Zephyr's ears are. Gotta love a brave horse!

It became clear almost immediately that this method of trying to stay dry would make me fall off and go swimming. I gave up, put my feet back in the stirrups, and tried to think happy thoughts as the water crested over my knees. (Note to self… next time, buy a much taller horse.)

We came out of the water, walked directly across the beach, and back into the woods. Water sloshed back and forth in my “waterproof” boots. (Note to self… waterproof boots are only helpful if the water doesn’t come in the top. If it does, it can’t get back out!) My memory of the trail here becomes blurry, but I do know that at some point Amy asked us to stop so she could fix her saddle pad, and so she could check Cayden’s leg. It turned out that he had lost a shoe. We had no choice but to leave her there to walk him to the water stop.

I don’t think either of our horses drank at the water stop along the edge of a huge cornfield. We headed out from there at a brisk trot, following the edge of the cornfield and ducking branches. At times we had to walk because the footing was poor, but for the most part we trotted. I could see why some horses in the past have freaked out in this field and dumped their riders… the sound of corn slapping against the stirrups was a little unnerving, and the trail was only 1’ wide so you couldn’t get away from it. Last year, one of our friends got dumped and her horse was missing for over 7 hours!

I don’t remember much about what the trail was like right after the cornfield, but eventually we came out into a second field that was MUCH nicer. I don’t know what the crop was, maybe potatoes, but the nice thing was that there was a wide sandy road around the outer edge. The footing was perfect… loose sand 2” deep and damp from Friday’s rain. It was sunny and in the 80s, and a wonderful breeze was blowing. Zephyr and Nettie cantered happily along the sandy path, which probably went about halfway around the fairly big field. At one point, I lost a water bottle out of my rear pack. Zephyr slammed on the brakes and I hopped off to get it, and was back in the saddle and trotting before Traci really knew what had happened. Gotta love a responsive horse… I was thankful the speed demon I’d had earlier was mostly gone. He still wanted to go fast but at least he was listening to me again.

Not sure what the trail was like between there and the hold. The hold (and vet check) was in a clearing next to a dirt logging road. We trotted right in and Amy’s husband Mike met us with water and our hold bins. For the first few minutes, all we had was muddy creek water, of which Zephyr drank about a gallon. After that, the water truck arrived and he refused to drink again. He did, however, happily eat his soaked beet pulp / grain / carrot mixture. In fact, it looked yummy to Nettie too so we poured it all out onto the lid of Traci’s hold bin so they could share. (Traci hadn’t brought any because typically Nettie won’t eat beet pulp at a ride.)

Zephyr pulsed down almost immediately to 42/12… the requirement for pulse was 64 but there isn’t really any respiration requirement… they just can’t be “inverted”. Zephyr’s respiration is usually marked down as 8 because the vets can’t see him breathing, but since we’d trotted right into the hold he was at 12.

Traci and I gave the horses their electrolytes and got in line for the trot-out. While I was waiting in line, a woman came up and asked to take my picture with Zephyr and his pretty braid. If I can find the slip of paper she gave me, I will get a copy of it. Amy arrived at the hold with Cayden and went to find the farrier to replace his shoe. Our trot-out went smoothly and we were back on our way.

The trail immediately after the hold was a muddy and narrow dirt road. Not sure about the rest of it, but I do know that the last couple miles were wide dirt roads, leading to wide grassy paths through clearings, and then to this view just about a mile outside of the finish line. This was the only time we went slow enough that I could pull out my camera!

We rode in around 11:15… we had left camp first and arrived back home in 3rd and 4th place, not that it matters in CTR. It was just nice to know we’d kept pace even with our slow start. Mike, who was waiting at Amy’s trailer, commented that there must be a fire somewhere nearby because he’d been hearing sirens for a few minutes. We didn’t think anything of that until a bit later.

Zephyr pulsed down to 40/8 by the end of the required 20 minute period. I was very pleased. I don’t remember what Nettie got, Traci doesn’t always tell me. While the volunteer was taking our P&Rs, we found out that the sirens had been an ambulance and police cars sent to the scene of a nasty accident with one of the riders. Apparently, shortly after we passed through the camping area, a pickup truck with a canoe in the back had passed a group of riders. The canoe (which wasn’t tied) was sticking diagonally out the back of the truck bed, and it shifted place and smacked up against a tree right in front of them. One of the horses reared and the rider fell off. Because the horse was blind in one eye and couldn’t see where she had landed, it stepped all over her. The only news we had at that point was that when rescuers arrived, the woman had been alert but immobile at the bottom of the roadside ditch. Our friend Stephanie (whose horse is also blind in one eye) had been in the group of riders, and she reported that none of the other horses had really spooked much. Frankly, I was surprised… that would have been scary stuff.

At some point, we were told that our ex-group-member Amy hadn’t been seen again after the hold. Search and Rescue personnel were sent out, and her husband and a ride volunteer headed out in their trucks to try and find her. She finally walked up about 12:40. Apparently, she had been in last place and alone when she arrived at the river, and Cayden didn’t want to cross at first. Then after they finally got across, they were faced with a very long, steep, and muddy uphill climb, during which he just gave up. She had to get off and lead him up the hill through the ankle-deep mud, which I’m sure must have zapped any energy she had left.

Knowing that feeling well, Traci and I took Cayden away from her, tied him to the trailer, sat her down in one of our canvas recliners, gave her a Smirnoff’s Twisted and a wet facecloth, stripped Cayden’s saddle, sponged him, gave him water and hay, removed Amy’s wet boots and socks for her, and gave her a dry towel for her feet. She seemed almost embarrassed, but we told her that after getting drenched at Crooked River we’d gotten a bit of the same treatment from near strangers, and we were happy to be able to pass it along to someone else.

Having been disqualified because she went over the allotted time, Amy rested a bit and then packed up and left before the award ceremony.

This picture was taken a bit later that afternoon. Surprisingly, Zephyr did not roll after the ride.

Zephyr trotted out fine, but Nettie was flagged for a possible issue with her right hind leg. Traci was told to bring her back in the morning for evaluation. We had flashbacks of our ride at Acadia last year, when she was pulled on the morning of the second day of our first attempt at a 2-day 50.

Dinner was only marginally better than the night before. The chicken was overcooked and dry. I splurged and had most of a baked potato, along with a pile of limp Caesar salad. Later we dug into our own coolers to supplement our dinner with tuna, nuts, cheese, and various other snacks.

We walked the horses a few times before the awards for the 25-mile riders, which didn’t happen until around 6pm. (In my opinion, 6+ hours for vetting out and tabulating scores is a little excessive!) As it happened though, it was worth the wait. Our friend Stephanie, who had been riding her husband Bill’s “tubby, half-blind, old spotted cow pony” was Grand Champion with a score of 99.75 out of 100! He may be a little on the fat and aged side, but “Mickey B” knows his job well after only 2 years of competition. He keeps a steady pace, eats and drinks when he’s told, and pulses down quickly. His trot-out is so lazy and tired looking BEFORE the ride, that when he does the same thing AFTER the ride, there is no change and he doesn’t get marked down! Hey, more power to him, gotta love it when non-Arabs get recognized!

We shared a champagne toast with Bill and Stephanie before heading off to the showers. That’s right folks, not only did our horses get stalls, WE got SHOWERS! There was a building with about a dozen little rooms, each with a toilet, sink, shelf, and shower. Tons of hot water. Sure, it was a 5 minute walk, but it was THERE! Normally we just have to live in our own stink for the duration.

We headed off to bed at around 9:30 I think, and this time I was asleep as soon as I laid down.

SUNDAY:

I woke up freezing, even in my sweatpants and sweatshirt. I sure wish I’d switched to my heavier sleeping bag once I realized the evening air was cooler than it had been the night before! Traci got up to tend the horses, and she threw her own sleeping bag over me so I could warm up a little before I had to face the cold air outside.

When I finally emerged she told me that Zephyr had been busy during the night. I had left my folding canvas chair just to the left of his door, and my saddle stand (with saddle) just to the right. Somehow, he’d managed to reach both items and tip them over! Sheesh, I would have thought that after 25 miles at such speeds, he would have been too busy sleeping to bother being nosy. Oh well. Traci had picked everything up and it was none the worse for wear.

We had set our alarm early enough that we could take the horses for a quick walk, trot Nettie again for the vets at 6:15, and drop our hold bins off at the official hold truck. (Gee, it sure was nice on Saturday when we just gave our stuff to Mike!) I skipped the electrolytes on Sunday because as usual, Zephyr hadn’t drunk well the day before, and I’m starting to think he’s better off without them… maybe they’re too harsh. The vets allowed Nettie to go out because she was no more off than the day before, and really it was a borderline thing that not everyone could see.

We would have gotten up earlier if we’d realized there was another ride meeting, again at 6:30. We had scheduled our morning routine as if there would not be a meeting, which meant we were scrambling to tack up. We didn’t get to the out gate until 7:01.

We had been told that the trail would be the same until the river crossing, but we didn’t remember the trail from the day before so we followed the trail markings. We had been TOLD that all the Day One markings had been stripped down so we wouldn’t get confused. But at one point, we were following a dirt road and the ribbons clearly indicated that we should turn right onto Mountain View Road. Unfortunately, even though I knew we had followed this road Saturday on the way BACK, it didn’t occur to me that the markings might be wrong. We got all the way to the top of the hill where we could see the fairgrounds before we realized. I would guess our round trip off-trail was about 5 miles. By the time we got back to the intersection in question, we had picked up several other riders who had made the same mistake. Upon closer inspection we discovered that a pie plate with a “straight ahead” arrow had fallen face-down onto the ground. So we turned right to continue along the same dirt road we’d been on before we turned.

We’d started in the lead, but while we’d been off-trail, everyone else had passed us. We had promised the vets that we would go slow so Nettie wouldn’t further injure her leg, so even the three other riders pulled ahead out of sight. Both horses surprised us by not getting discouraged at being last and alone. They even crossed the river with no hesitation. And since this time I hadn’t used my rear saddle pack, I was able to put my feet up behind the saddle and keep them dry. WOO HOO!

We were still trotting strongly when we finally got to the Fly By where the vet looks to see if any horses have started to have issues. I was absolutely, totally shocked when the vet called us back. She had me trot Zephyr again, and informed me that he was borderline lame in the left front! I hadn’t felt a thing, and he was very eager to go. They checked Nettie too, and she was no worse than before. After a few minutes of discussion, the judges allowed Zephyr to continue as long as we promised to take it easy.

Traci and I decided to continue at a steady medium-paced trot, which for us is around 10-12 mph instead of 14-15. No cantering at all, and as little walking as possible. The trail complied with our hopes, by having very little mud or rutted ground. Also, I decided to post only on the right diagonal, to keep my weight off Zephyr’s sore left leg.

We cruised into the hold (which was pretty close to the halfway point) just over halfway through our allotted time, so really it could have been much worse. Apparently we had made up a lot of time after we regained the trail and before we reached the Fly By. Even so, we had no expectations of being allowed back on the trail… we were fully convinced that the vet would pull one or both of us, since she seemed to have “itchy fingers” that way... she seemed to be really picky.

Zephyr pulsed down immediately to the same as the day before (44), although with slightly higher respiration (16). I wasn’t surprised, since we’d trotted right into the hold again, and it was a little warmer that day.

I ditched my windbreaker and begged Zephyr to drink. Again, he wanted nothing to do with the water but was happy to eat his slurry. Nettie shared with him again. Finally as we were waiting in line for the vet, I held a bucket up for him and he drank about 3 gallons! Good boy.

The vet watched him trot and said he was fine. I got kudos from some of the onlookers for my strategy (go slow and steady, keep my weight off that leg). Nettie was still fine too. We trotted out of the hold and into the woods with renewed hope of completing within the allotted 4 hours and 40 minutes.

The next section followed the Saco River and its half-drunken boaters, which was interesting because they were catcalling and neighing at us. The trail itself was dreamy; ATV width with packed sand. To our right, the trees were thick but the only branches were very high, leaving a tall canopy of leaves, a maze of clean tree trunks to peer through, and a low covering of green leafy plants about a foot or two tall. There were no trail ribbons in this section so we just followed the hoof prints.

At one point, there was Caution tape strung across the trail, and the hoof prints seemed to disappear. We ranged around a bit and found them again on a parallel trail that drifted away from the river and the raucous boaters.

A few minutes later, with Nettie in the lead, the trail became overgrown with the leafy groundcover. The sunlight trickled down through the leafy canopy to dot the groundcover, and as we trotted through, Nettie’s hooves stirred up thousands of small white moths. It was a scene too wonderful to imagine; it made me think all at once of Sherwood Forest, knights, elves, and unicorns.

Unfortunately, we soon hit a dirt section and realized there were no more hoof prints. We backtracked to find a tiny, almost unnoticeable, unmarked offshoot trail where the hoof prints led. (Thank goodness we weren’t the first to pass through there, how on earth would you know where to go???)

My memory of the trail grows fuzzy again here, but I do know that we eventually reached the river crossing again. It was at this point that we saw the first horses we’d seen since the hold. They disappeared from sight as our horses drank, and drank, and drank. Finally the volunteers had to gently remind us to keep moving!

We tried to, but the horses were perfectly happy to stand there in belly-deep water and not move. We spanked them with our reins, squeezed/bumped/kicked with our legs, and I even used my sponge-on-a-leash as an “over and under” to no avail. One of the volunteers waded out into the water and began spanking Nettie on the rump with a wet water noodle that she borrowed from the campers next to us. Nettie tried to stomp her back feet in annoyance but the water was too deep so it was more comical than anything else. Our tights and boots were waterlogged, and our legs were getting tired, when Zephyr finally took a step forward. I looked up to see that our timing was all off… the next group of canoes and kayaks would run us over if we continued! The volunteers yelled for us to keep going, and that the boaters would just have to try and avoid us.

Once we got them moving the second time, it was a relatively routine experience. Our feet were already wet so we didn’t make any effort to get them out of the water. When we reached the other side, we walked even more slowly across the sand to avoid straining tired muscles and tendons.

We entered the woods and repeated some of the same woods trails and dirt roads, then veered onto a new section of woods trails that was extremely hilly and had long sections of very deep mud. We commented to each other that it would be a miracle if the horses escaped this ride without any nicks on their legs (which the judges mark down for), because of all the rocks and roots buried in the mud.

When we saw the 4.6 miles to go sign, we had about an hour left until the cutoff time. We continued to trot when we could, and walk when we had to. We crossed the finish line with 5 minutes to spare.

As soon as we got back to the trailer, we tied the horses and stripped their tack, then put a dry towel on their backs and replaced the saddles. This helps reduce the swelling that sometimes occurs after a long ride. When the 20 minutes were up, Zephyr pulsed down again to 40/8 just like the day before. Good boy! Nettie had a 52 though, which is 8 over the required pulse of 44, so we knew she would lose 2 points (1/4 of a point for each beat over 44).

The minute that was over, we covered the horses with light coolers to keep their muscles warm, and began to walk them. We walked back and forth, and around and around the fairgrounds, until it was time for our hands-on vet check. Zephyr lost 1.5 points for two wind puffs, two small swollen areas on his back, and rub marks on his muzzle from the knots on rope nose of the S-Hackamore (from Saturday when he was pulling so hard).

We continued to walk and hand-graze them for the next couple hours while we waited for the trot-out. The last thing we wanted was for two horses who had crossed the finish line sound to end up lame just from standing around and getting stiff! There was a delay in judging while the vet treated a rookie horse for colic. We probably logged another 20 miles on foot from the time we first started, to when we finally trotted out.

Zephyr lost 4 points for loss of willingness and energy (well yeah, he was tired, but ALSO there was no rain or thunder that day). And apparently the vet thought he was lame again, so she marked him down another 8 points. Personally, I was pretty surprised by that amount. I did notice that he was a bit stiff but I didn’t think he was actually lame, nor did I think that WHATEVER it was, was worth 8 points (she said he was at the lower end of Grade 2 on the lameness scale). Our final score was our lowest to date… 86. But whatever. We enjoyed the trails, and we finished the ride and got our Completion, which at 9am we weren’t at all certain would happen. So all in all, it was still a good ride.

In case you’re wondering, Nettie lost 5 points for being slightly lame (Grade 1), and another 4.5 points for various swellings, rubs, and nicks. Her final score of 90.5 earned her third place in her weight division, and the Senior Rookie award.

The trip home went much faster because we followed the original route I’d marked out. We got home in only 4 hours instead of 6. Even so, we still didn’t pull into the barnyard until 11pm.

Our barnlord (Arthur) told me that on Monday morning, Zephyr raced out to the pasture as usual, galloping around and raising ruckus with his buddies. When I told him that the vet had tagged Zephyr as being lame, he just laughed and laughed. In fact, I think I recall him clutching his belly, overcome with hilarity.

When I went out to the pasture though, Zephyr had been standing in the sun for a few hours and was clearly feeling lazy and a bit stiff. I don’t blame him, I took Monday off sick from work and slept until 11am before going to check on him and start unloading gear from the trailer. I’m still feeling pretty stiff, in fact, and I’m not the one who ran the whole 50 miles!

Hope you enjoyed this edition of our adventures!