adding to the roster

I fell in love with another grey mare.
Because that's totally unexpected...

My "horses I have available to ride" got expanded by one today when I rode Stephanie's new mare Kasha on our training ride. This mare is awesome...I cannot wait to ride her at Prescott. "Kash" (pronounced more like "kosh" versus "cash") comes out of a show/arena training background, so just my kind of horse. I mean, we're blasting along up a sand wash at a fast canter, and she's offering up flying lead changes around the turns.

Love, love, love.

At least everyone else's horses have good manes.
Makes it easier to ignore the pony's pitiful one.

Looks like I'll get the chance to ride her one of the days of Prescott next month.

Liking the camera theme of "Kash ears"

And I'm even further convinced of the conspiracy to get me to ride large horses, since she's somewhere around 15-15.1hh.  She doesn't look that big, even when you're standing next to her, since she's so well balanced and put together...but reaching for that stirrup on a flat mount, you know exactly how tall she really is. But I did flat-mount her.

Very well-trained, but still "trail green" and has to look at
things like dead cactus and downed logs. And unexpected
picnic tables and random benches in the middle of nowhere.

We did about 10 miles today, trotting and cantering whenever we could to meet our time deadline. I did a lousy job of keeping track, but I think we were done in about an hour and half, possibly less. Tons of fun, though, and this mare is solid. Completely trustworthy and I felt totally comfortable jumping on her back and asking for a speed workout. 

Definitely the kind of horse I like to ride: Super-responsive to rein and leg, maybe needs a little bit of support along the trail learning curve as she figured out things like uneven footing, rocks, and hills...but that makes me feel like an active, engaged rider...and teaching trail savvy is way easier (at least for me) than trying to teach a died-in-the-wool, old-time endurance horse how to leg-yield. But that's just me and my preference. :) Guess the old show ring is never too far away...

Ride Story: Old Pueblo, Day Two: Let's Do It Again!

You can read about day one HERE, although my day one was technically Day Two of the ride, and my day two was Ride Day Three. Clear as mud now? Good. Now that that's settled...

Sunday's ride on "Frenchy"
50 miles
photo by Steve Bradley

photo by Steve Bradley
Yes, the mane is as ridiculously long
as it looks.
And the matching boots and tack were
a happy coincidence.

I'm really not sure what got into me, but apparently I felt compelled to earn my endurance stripes this weekend. First I said 'yes' to riding back-to-back 50s...having never done so before. And to top it off, my day two horse was one I'd never ridden before...climbing on him at quarter to seven on Sunday morning was  my first introduction to his movement, how he rode, controls, steering, et cetera. I never thought I would be one of "those" type who can (seemingly) easily climb on board a strange horse and go for 50 miles, but I guess I surprised even myself.

So, let's rewind a little bit back to Saturday afternoon. Rocco and I successfully finished his first 50, and he was still looking at me like, "That was fun." He was a little "Ergh...whut???" when I hugged him, but he figured out soon enough I wasn't actually trying to strangle him.

After taking care of him and getting him re-situated in front of a large amount of food (Rocco says, "Food is good. Endurance = food. Therefore, Endurance is Good."), I scampered over to retrieve the horse I would be riding the next day: Frenchy, who belongs to my friend Nick.

I now firmly believe there is a conspiracy afoot designed to try to break my attachment to my "go-cart ponies." It's true, I have an affinity for anything 14.2hh and under. They're smaller, handier, easier to get on. So why is it that everything I've been riding this year has been 15hh and over? Apparently someone is trying to improve my mounting skills...or something.

Anyway, Frenchy is a big boy, hitting nearly 15.2hh. Stretch, Ash, stretch. He vetted through fine, being somewhat of an "old hat" with half a dozen rides under his girth. I also got him fitted into Renegades for the next day. (Not much of a switch, as he is already barefoot and used to going in boots...but using any other boot is somewhat of a conflict of interest.)

A note on my decision to do this: I had the owner's blessing to ride in whatever boots I preferred. The horse was already barefoot and accustomed to boots. I was confident in how they fit him and how they looked on his hooves to trust I wouldn't be spending the next day jumping off and retrieving boots the entire ride. Maybe some would call it a leap of faith...I call it confidence in knowing that a reliable product works. And I was right. We didn't have a single boot issue all day long. I put them on in the morning and took them off after we were done. No rubbing, no twisting...and they got a serious workout, both from the horse and the terrain.

Incidentally, they were the same set of boots I used on Rocco on Saturday. (Convenient. Must endeavor to find horses with the same size of hooves...) And they did excellent on him as well, including sloshing through a mud-lined stream. Put on in morning, take off after finish. I was always impressed with how Renegades have done on my boot-challenged pony, despite not fitting her all that ideally. So to put them on horses that they do fit ideally...I didn't think it was possible to love these boots any more than I did. Well, apparently it is, and I do. Stay tuned for some more news regarding Renegades coming up soon...

And back to our regularly scheduled programming.

I wrapped up Saturday night with an impromptu boot party in the back of Steph's trailer, happily "talking shop" while swapping out some boot parts for some other people. I'm actually loving this "work at the ride" aspect. It allows me to socialize, yes, and I really do like doing hands-on troubleshooting and customer service.

Another restful night on The Most Comfortable Mattress in the World, and I woke up feeling really good. I took one Motrin the previous evening, but that was it. This was the best I've ever felt the day after a ride. Typically, I'm all crunchy muscles and whiny body. This time? Nope. Some soreness in the upper shoulder area, but I think that was more a side effect of the unaccustomed wearing of the Camelbak the previous day, combined with...err..."upper body baggage." Doesn't matter how padded the sports bra straps are...

But I was able to quite cheerfully (for 5AM) slither out of bed and dress, cram down a near-repeat of the previous day's breakfast, gather up all of my last-minute gear, and be over at Nick's trailer to start tacking up.

I had a brief moment of "What the heck am I DOING?" nerves as I scrambled off the mounting block onto my rather tall target, not helped by briefly getting stuck on the water bottle on my cantle pack. (Like I muttered multiple times over the weekend, I wish I could be one of those riders who survives the ride on a water bottle and a grapefruit. But I'm not, so I always have to remind myself of how to fit between all the stuff on my saddle.) Frenchy was good, though, and we had a nice calm walk up to the start to check in with our numbers. (No greasepaint butt numbers at this ride...dang, means I actually had to remember my rider number[s].)

Things briefly got...interesting...when we walked away from the start. Seems Frenchy didn't want to leave in the opposite direction of all the action, so I got treated to a bit of a temper tantrum display of head tossing and some hopping up and down. He responded to a few cross words, and we went back to walking a nice warmup loop around the backside of camp before heading out towards the tail end of the pack.

Both Frenchy and Nick's horse Moon walked out of camp politely, and a couple minutes out of camp, we picked up a nice working trot. Ooo, Frenchy had a nice trot. A bit strong and eager, but responsive to my requests to keep it to a dull roar.

The Sunday trail is my favorite of the Sonoita trails. It heads roughly northwest out of camp, crosses under the highway, picks up the Arizona Trail and follows it around for a while before breaking off to complete what is basically a giant lollipop loop that rejoins the same trail close to the highway before heading back to camp...only to fake you out when you're literally within a couple miles of camp and take you on a dogleg mini-loop of another handful of miles before spitting out back out on the same trail within sight of camp.

Sunday's trail also has a lot more up and down and climbing. GPS stats report approximately 3100' of climbing and 3800' of descent. (Hah, my bruised shins are vindicated knowing it was a "downhill" ride.) But it's a great mix of terrain: Lots of single track, with a lot of it being the kind you can still make good time; some sand wash; some rocky areas. Lots of good practice in "trot when you can" on some of the more technical areas, but with some good service roads thrown in where you could really open it up.

Like I said, Frenchy was a strong, eager horse, so I kept two hands on the reins the whole day and didn't get photos. (Also, I discovered on Friday afternoon driving down that I'd forgotten to charge my camera battery. That, or I had charged it and the charge isn't holding anymore.) Sort of a shame, because the area is gorgeous. The areas we were going through still had patches of unmelted snow ("Scary," says Frenchy) and an interesting mix of high desert/low mountain foliage: junipers, prickly pears, oak trees, ocotillo, yucca, and lots and lots of other plants whose names I don't know.

Frenchy would like to take a moment to point out the extreme horse-eating-monster-ness of downed oak trees and stumps...of which there were plenty.

You know what else there were plenty of at this ride? Gates. Lots and lots of gates. However, when you are the shortest person riding the tallest horse and riding in the company of chivalrous men, you typically don't have to get off and get the gate. :) I'll admit it: The only time I got off Mr. Tall Thing, aside from the vet check, was to go under the highway underpass. Something to work on...but I wasn't confident in my ability to get back on him without a large rock or stump close at hand.

I was somewhat familiar with Sunday's trail, although the last time I had ridden it, the Arizona Trail was mostly running through washes and service roads compared to the beautiful, interesting single-track that now winds through the area. This ride -- this trail, this day -- was my first attempt at a 50-miler, 7 years ago, riding a friend's horse. It was also my first pull after the stirrup leather on the borrow saddle torqued my ankle around so badly as to leave me unable to actually put any weight on it, so I RO'd at the vet check. I'd not made it back to this ride since, and it's been one of my own personal challenges to come back and successfully complete this day.

One of my goals after the past couple of years hiatus had been to enjoy the ride this time around. In the past, I've gotten more hung up on finishing the ride and "getting it over with" in a way...I just wanted a successful completion...that I forgot the appreciate the whole process.

(Okay, not entirely sure how much I'm supposed to enjoy getting somewhat thrashed and battered the way I was feeling partway through Sunday...but just think, I could be sitting inside doing something like a crossword puzzle instead of out out enjoying perfect weather, good company, and a fun horse. Bruises fade...and in the meantime, make great war wounds stories.)

I feel really good about how much of the ride I was able to appreciate and enjoy along the way, even though Frenchy and I did have some disagreements about speed: He wanted to Go Faster and Tailgate. I preferred he Back Off and Watch His Feet. We compromised by leapfrogging who was in the lead off and on all day and that seemed to keep both of the horses happy.

In contrast to Saturday's multiple checks, Sunday had one out check. I did hop off and walk the loooong downhill into the check...a relief to get off and stretch at that point. Frenchy was already down by the time we reached the check, so we vetted through right away and grabbed a spot for them to start happily munching away on foodstuffs.

45 minutes for a hold passes way too fast, although I had plenty of time to refuel, rehydrate, and go visit the tall shrubbery. I did take an Aleve at this point, but that was it for the whole day. Back out after lunch, it's not too far before the big loop ends up rejoining the trail from the morning and starts heading back to camp. (And I reliably overshot the same turn to the highway underpass that I overshot while doing the LD on Mimi six years ago.)

Off Tall Thing to go through the highway underpass again, and successfully remounted on the other side off just a little ground berm without embarrassing myself or looking like a flopping platypus. The trail goes back though the same (scary) oak trees and the submerged cow tanks. Interesting concept...sink standard stock tanks into the ground so that only the top two o three inches of lip stick out. Supposedly this is to keep people from shooting them and draining the water? The horses were not fans of the concept...and I can't say I was either, since it ended up feeling like you were going to do a header into the water.

Then we had the evil fake-out loop that abruptly departed from the direct trail back to camp. Once you got past the, "Excuse-me-what-the-this-sucks" attitude of both horse and rider, it was a really fun little loop. Lots of single track, a chunk of it which traversed the same really fun single track from the previous day. Frenchy, who had typically slowed down earlier in the day when put in the lead, found a few extra gears and did quite a good job of leading through a lot of this section, including bravely cantering along in the lead through some really fun, twisty-turny, beautiful trail.

Advantage of this little loop was after a certain point, it was all repeat to anyone who had done the previous day. So I knew exactly where we were, that it wasn't that far back to camp, and I could survive one more downhill trot.

The horses wanted to race back into camp. We made them walk. Again, pulsed down and able to vet through right at the finish. Frenchy finished well, with mostly As. And Sunday's finish put me at 300 miles, which means I'm technically Tevis-qualified. (Not that I'm going to do anything with that yet...this year...)

We came in 15th...I think we were done around 2:30 or so. Both days of the weekend were definitely the fastest I've ridden, although I think the average moving speed was around 6.5mph on Saturday and 6.1 on Sunday. More thoughts of pacing and speed in another post.

Because home wasn't too far away (3 hr drive, approximately), Steph and I headed home that evening. I managed to pull everything out of her trailer, load it back into my suburban, drive home, and still have energy to start relating some of my weekend tales to my parents. And then I wanted a shower and bed.

And I woke up on Monday rather stiff and crunchy. But that's what I was used to feeling like after a one-day 50, so I'm pleased it took two days and two different horses, one of who was quite enthusiastic and vigorous in his movement and forward go-button (a lot like riding the pony on one of her extreme go-days, only 6 inches taller...), to make me feel that way. A couple of days of slathering arnica on my shins took care of the bruises, and I was back to walking normally after a few days.

All in all, an extremely successful weekend in which I hit major milestones, conquered some personal demons, and a good time was had by all.

Stay tuned for the always-popular "What Worked/What Didn't/Lessons Learned" post still to come.

Ride Story: Old Pueblo, Day One: Back At It

My friends are a bad influence. That's my only excuse for how I was quite readily talked into riding two days back-to-back at Old Pueblo. Two 50s, that is. Never mind that I hadn't finished a 50 since the end of 2009...that I've done a small handful of LDs since that time...that my saddle time hadn't been all that rigorous over the winter...

Oh, and did I mention that I've never done back-to-back 50s before? NATRC and LDs, yes. But prior to retiring the pony, I still hadn't gotten to the point where I was able to view a 50 as "easy" or "just another ride" and the idea of doing two back-to-back made my muscles whimper.

My friends are a bad influence...and I'm so grateful for it, because I don't know if I would have completed my first back-to-back 50s without their support, encouragement, and company. (And there's something to be said about wanting to live up to other people's expectations...when everyone else had full confidence in my ability to do it, it's hard not to rise to the occasion.)

And I had a blast. I "get" the appeal of multi-days now. There's something to be said for one drive, one camp set-up, but multiple rides. It seemed a little less rushed, less hurried. And getting the chance to ride with endurance riders who have years and thousands of miles of experience on me is a fantastic learning experience.

Sooo...I haven't done one of these [ride stories] for a while. One thing I don't have is photos...the first day, I was riding a (somewhat) green horse on his first 50, so juggling him + camera wasn't on the agenda. And on the second day, I was on an enthusiastically forward mount, so needed both hands on the reins for him.

But I do have great ride photos. :)

Saturday, 55 miles on "Rocco"
photo by Steve Bradley

He's a very photogenic horse.
Love those greys...
photo by Steve Bradley

I carpooled down to the ride on Friday with my friend Stephanie, whose horse I would be riding on Saturday. "Rocco" was previously introduced in an earlier post ("Other People's Horses") as an up-and-coming endurance prospect...physically, 11 years old, but with the mental experiences and exposure of approximately a 6 year old. He's very solid and steady, with a huge 'try' button and little-to-nothing by way of explosiveness or over-reactivity. (In other words, the mental maturity indicative of his age, now it's just a matter of getting him experiences.)

It had been over 6 years since I had been down to Sonoita, but aside from some freeway-expansion construction around Tucson, it didn't look like a whole lot had changed. The same golden, rolling grasslands surrounded by beautiful mountains. And there were still patches of unmelted snow decorating the perpetually shady parts of some of the hillsides.

After unloading the horses -- Rocco, Steph's seasoned campaigner Hadji, and her new mare Kasha, brought along for the weekend for the camping experience -- and registering and vetting in, we still had time to take the boys out for a quick pre-ride before ride meeting. Saturday's ride would be pretty straightforward: four loops, with a 45-minute hold at the end of loops one and three, and a pulse-down/trot-by at the end of loop two.

While I'm not world's biggest fan of multiple loops in and out of camp, the part of my brain that kept reminding me of just how long it had been since I'd done a 50 was somewhat pleased: If I had to make tack adjustments, et cetera, it would be much easier to do in camp. Also, the "small bites" effect. Just concentrate on getting through each loop.

Plus, you don't have to pack vet check bags for when you're in camp, or figure out exactly what food will appeal at that point. And it's easier to shed/add clothes.

For whatever reason, it seemed like everything came together really fast, at least compared to what I remember, to the point where I was in bed by 9:00, even after Steph and I watched an episode of 'Grey's Anatomy' on her portable DVD player. I slept like a log (most comfortable mattress in the world resides in the gooseneck of Steph's trailer) and was actually up about 2 minutes before my alarm went off at 5 the next morning.

One thing that hasn't changed: I still hate to eat breakfast early in the morning. I managed an unfrosted blueberry poptart, a couple slices of cheese, and half a yogurt. Kind of pathetic...but I forgot the peanut butter and undercooked the hard-boiled eggs.

I was greeted with an unpleasant surprise when I looked at Rocco: During the night, he'd gotten into a fight with his corral panel and  lost when a loose horse came visiting and got too close to Kasha and Rocco had to let the world know in no uncertain terms that was his girlfriend and anyone that got near her would suffer the consequences...too bad he forgot about the panel that got in his way...

He managed to scrape a chunk of hide and hair off his right hind leg, just above the fetlock...and another chunk on his left hind just above the coronet band. He was walking sound and wasn't too terribly concerned when we poked at the areas...so I saddled up. We did do a quick trot-by for the vet, but he didn't notice anything amiss, so off we went.

We started out toward the back of the pack, worked our way up towards the middle, and pretty much stayed there the rest of the day. Rocco did a spectacular near-face-plant less than a mile out of camp when he moved off the trail to dodge a tangle of branches...and tripped over the hidden log. On a downhill. That was fun. But he kept it together really well, didn't freak out...and learned his lesson about over-zealous dodging around branches.

I really had to keep reminding myself it was his first 50. He is just so solid. He didn't get overly concerned when horses would pop up behind us, he didn't really care about being passed, and would pass others politely. He is kind of an Energizer Bunny in that he likes to keep moving, and doesn't quite get the concept of standing quietly under saddle (yet)...so waiting for the multitudes of gates on this ride to be opened/closed was a good lesson in patience for him. Still working on getting the drinking thing down...he passed up more opportunities to drink than I was happy with...but one hot ride will teach him.

Back to camp after the first loop, he was pulsed down by the time we reached the P&R area, and he vetted through with all As...except for needing work on the trot-out. To be fair to him...I don't know if he'd really been trotted out much in-hand prior to this weekend. sooo...handler-fail on my part...but we figured out that if Steph trotted Hadji out at the same time, Rocco would follow Hadji...so we got our decent trot-outs that way. Oh, well...work on that before the next ride.

The second loop included some really pretty sections of service road that wound through stands of old oak trees, and another eally fun section of single track that traversed along the valley floor between two ridgelines. Prior to this ride, Rocco gave off the impression of being a "good little worker bee." Not spectacular, not particularly fast...but pretty consistent and would get the job done. Probably a good multi-day horse, but probably not one to top ten.

All I can say is, "Sandbagger." At the ride, he offered up a previously-unknown big power trot that easily clocked 12mph on the GPS (we didn't canter a single step the whole day and the max speed hit 14mph). But the beautiful thing about him was even in that power trot, he naturally rated. Maybe it's lack of experience and exposure, but he wasn't inclined to be "racy" and didn't pull on me at all.

Back into camp for the pulse down and trot-by, then we were out again before my brain had a chance to register the thought of "break." Loop three was short...go out the same way as loop one, but cut off about halfway through then rejoin with the last third or so of loop one. Loop three also included a water crossing, something Rocco "hasn't done a lot of so might not be wild about." So proud of him when he marched through the mud, into the stream, and back through the mud on the other side. Would have liked for him to stop and drink...but again, a case of him wanting to "get on with it." And we were only a few miles out from a water trough.

It got kind of warm on the third loop, and back at camp, it took Rocco about 10 minutes or so to pulse down to the required 60bpm. Looking back, I probably could have gotten him down faster if I'd stripped tack and done some more aggressive sponging/scooping of water. He wasn't super-high with his pulse...just hanging for a bit at 64 before dropping to 60. And we'd done 40-something miles at this point...he was probably ready for a break. (I know I was.)

A hot lunch during this check tasted fabulous: brats and burgers provided by ride management. I'd done really well during the first check with raiding the cooler and doing my best hoover impression (past 8 in the morning, I can cheerfully eat a wide variety of food), so felt really good and fueled up for the second loop...but the pulse-n-go check after loop two didn't leave time to refueling, so I'd relied on an energy gel and squeeze-applesauce out on the trail. And now I was hungry again.

But I was mostly amazed at how good I was feeling. I'd taken one Motrin after loop one, and wasn't feeling the need to take another one yet. There's really something to being on a horse who doesn't beat you up and is a consistent ride with soft gaits, and doesn't pull or necessitate a lot of bracing in the saddle.

Loop four was a short loop, out the same way as loop two. As we headed out, I could practically see Hadji rolling his eyes and giving of a very clear, "This again?" attitude. But Rocco, bless his naive little heart, practically bounded out of camp. As I said before, Energizer Bunny who just loves to go, so the notion that we kept going back out again was thrilling his little soul. He was so thrilled, in fact, he actually took over leading for part of the last loop! He hadn't shown a lot of previous inclination towards wanting to lead or being particularly brave out front...but the fact we were now on a trail he'd already seen was a huge confidence boost for him, and he cheerfully headed out front and gave me a nice working trot. We pretty much motored through the last loop -- which was basically the first and last part of loop two.

And then we were done! We walked in, nice and easy, and by the time I'd dismounted and retrieved my vet card, Rocco was already down, so we vetted through right away. His only 'B' was on skin tenting...the "still figuring out how to drink whenever water is offered" probably caught up with him a bit...but other than that, all 'As' and still looking great! (I think he lost maybe 5 pounds. Maybe. And then gained it all back overnight. Easy keeper.)

And with that finish, Rocco earned me my first endurance mileage patch for 250 miles!

And I felt great at the finish! Muscles that had been used, but not abused. A little tired, but exhilarated. Lots of happy adrenaline from a successful finish and a ride that did a lot towards chasing the ride-demons that have been plaguing me for the last couple of years away.

After taking care of Rocco, I had just enough time to vet-in the horse I would be riding on day two...Frenchy. But that...and the rest of day two's story...is still to come...

Cliffnotes

After being gone for the last three weekends in a row, I've got a lot to catch up on (including riding my pony). I did good in getting my 20 Mule Team crewing adventure story out in a timely fashion, but the next two weekends required a lot more prep to get ready, so relating those tales got pushed to the back burner.

Two weekends ago, I did back-to-back 50s at the Old Pueblo ride in Sonoita. It was my first 50 in three years, and my first time doing back-to-backs. I finished both days on two different horses, one of whom was doing his first 50. Great fun and an awesome weekend and I predict the write-up will be long and extensive. (Isn't it always?)

And last night, I got back from the AERC Convention in Reno. I ran the Renegade booth at the trade show and had an awesome time. It was my first time going to the convention and I had a blast getting to hang out with old friends, meet people face-to-face, and make new friends. Bottom line: Short on sleep, long on fun, and a good time was had by all (I hope). More photos and stories to follow on that as well.

Now it's back to catching up on work and sleep...and the riding of my own pony.

Crewing 20 Mule Team; or, Isn't Endurance Riding Glamorous?

I'm getting caught up on last weekend's sleep just in time to probably end up short on it again this weekend...and then repeat the process for the following week/weekend. Life is crazy busy but I love it. This upcoming weekend is the Sonoita ride, then the following weekend, I'll be attending the AERC Convention in Reno, NV and running the Renegade booth at the trade show.

Anyway, the reason for last weekend's lack of sleep: Crewing the 20 Mule Team ride for friends Kaity and Lucy, riding the 100-miler. It was a whirlwind weekend and I felt like I was gone for a lot longer than I actually was.

This time, I decided to fly out. Two factors: One, Ridgecrest is an almost-1000-mile round trip drive for me and I don't want to be putting those kind of miles on my somewhat older, already-high-mileage vehicle; and two, I drive a gas guzzler. Flying and renting a car turned out to be cheaper than just driving. I felt rather grown-up, driving myself to the airport Friday morning and leaving my vehicle for the weekend (uttering the universal traveler's prayer of "Please let my car be there and not in pieces or non-functioning when I return").

What's to say about the flight? I flew into Bakersfield, so the trip was short and the plane was small. The advantage of flying into a smaller regional airport is things like getting baggage and a rental car typically go pretty fast, so I was on the road faster than I had anticipated. The drive over to Ridgecrest is gorgeous along Hwy 58, passing through the Tejon Ranch and Tehachapi.

Ridgecrest was somewhat familiar turf, having been there just last month for the Fire Mountain ride -- the only difference this time around was a different base camp. I managed the drive in about two hours and showed up early afternoon, with plenty of time to socialize, perform Renegade-related duties, help Lucy glue on boots (the start of the "Isn't endurance riding glamorous?" theme as Fergus sneezed on us, rubbed on us, smeared glue on us, and in one memorable moment, narrowly missed pooping on Kaity...), watch them vet in, pack crew bags/boxes/coolers, then finally sit down for a laughter-and-endurance-rider-war-stories-filled dinner.

Lucy eyeballs Fergus's freshly-applied boots.
Allowed on his hi-tie with the caveat of "No sudden moves."

Kaity heads out to pre-ride.
Her boyfriend KC was the other half of the weekend's
dynamic crew duo.

Lucy vets in Golden Boy.
Fergus is a 16+hh Arab/TWH cross...
and is now 3/3 on 100s, including Tevis and
Virginia City.
Everyone loves Fergus.
(Who technically belongs to Lucy's husband Patrick.)

Team Buckskin
"K2" -- Kaity and Kody
"Team Lurgy" -- Lucy and Fergus

We probably shuffled off to bed later than we should have (considering the 6am ride start the next morning), but sitting around drinking wine and laughing with friends is just too much fun and none of us were ready to call it quits at an early hour.

I was bunking in Lucy's trailer for the weekend, which was quite comfortable and civilized, complete with squishy mattress and heater. Bliss, I tell ya. I'm getting spoiled...

How much fun is tacking up 16+hh in the dark and making sure the saddle pad is on straight? At least Fergus is well-behaved and isn't a moving target...

Riders fed, horses tacked, and off they went, heading out just a couple minutes after 6. (Meanwhile, I'm only half-awake, and suspect that NesCafe Expressions instant coffee contains very little coffee based on my body's "need caffeine" response.)

Kaity's boyfriend KC was the other half of the dynamic crew duo for the weekend. His job was to drive the truck, schlep stuff, and feed riders while I tended to the horses. We finished piling everything into the back of Lucy's truck, then made a beeline for Starbucks, armed with our riders' breakfast orders. (Ridecamp in the middle of civilization is very civilized.)

I was "that person" in line at Starbucks: The one you hope you never get behind because they have a large order that holds up all the proceedings. Heh. Four drink orders and four breakfast sandwiches later, we were back on the road and heading to VC1.

Exhibit B of "Isn't endurance riding glamorous?"
Following the Port-A-Potty into VC1.

We snagged an excellent spot at the vet check: Out of the way of the major cluster of proceedings, but not so far away that it was located in outer Egypt. We were able to park the truck quite close to the stop as well, so it was easy enough to pull out the "check essentials" and set those up, and walk back over to the truck if we needed anything else. Out-of-vehicle crewing = so much easier than schlepping everything everywhere. (*cough*Tevis*cough*)

Our coveted spot.

After that, it was time to embrace the old crew adage of "Hurry up and wait." Oh, and take the time to eat now, before we got busy. (And I did quite good in the "don't forget to take care of myself" department, too. I'm learning.)

Incoming Fergus

Lucy showed up first, Lucy and Kaity having separated when the boys started being naughty and needing "buddy timeouts."

Fergus was already down when they arrived (for as big as he is, he is an athletic freak, especially metabolically), so Lucy vetted him through and we got both horse and rider settled with food and drink.

Kaity and Kody showed up about 10 minutes later and went through the same routine.

Incoming Kody

Lucy elected to wait past her out time so they could ride together...which they did for the rest of the 85 miles ahead. (As a crewperson, I was happy about this: Having them riding together was actually easier than trying to juggle the logistics of crewing for two riders who are on different time schedules.)

Riders fed and caffeinated, horses fed, and we whisked them out just a couple minutes past the 20-minute hold time. Oh, and you can just assumed that pretty much every check involved the hand-feeding, electrolyting, and/or bridling of at least one horse. I got slopped on...a lot. Glamorous. :)

Cleaned up our area, dumped it all back in the truck, then we were off again, this time for VC2.

VC2: Our original location (the silver truck)

For those who have done the Death Valley ride in the past, where one of the days' camp was located in the dry lake bed: VC2 was in the same location. It was quite windy when we got there, to the point where chairs wouldn't stay upright without a body in them. Eh, no biggie. Try to position the truck as a windbreak and hold onto the doors as you're getting in and out of the truck.

Until the dust happened.

It was originally contained to just the immediate vetting area: As the horses trotted out, they kicked up dust. But as time went on, the wind started changing. And pretty soon, this happened:

Smack in the middle of Egypt the dust storm

After having the water int he buckets get swirled into mini-vortexes, the top of the horse's wet sloppy mashes get encrusted in dirt, and being literally sand-blasted from head-to-toe (I was digging dirt out of my jacket pockets and my sweatshirt, once black, looked like it has been vintage-washed), we decided this wasn't going to work and moved the truck. (Glamorous. Still digging dirt out of my ears.)

Up on higher ground.
We had been right in the middle of that cloud.

We scrambled to get everything relocated and set up, and a few minutes later, Team Buckskin came into sight, making their way down the long hill into the check. (Lucy had binoculars in her truck, which were quite handy.)

This check was a full hour. The horses pulsed in and vetted through right away, then we whisked them off to be settled in front of a buffet spread of food. Kaity and Lucy parked themselves in the cab of the truck with their own buffet spread and munched while I went back and forth from horse to horse, trying to tempt them with yummies. Kody did good, munching on some alfalfa for a while before getting his sloppy. Fergus, on the other hand, decided that the goings-on around the check were much more interesting than his own (yucky) electrolyted food. (The horrors.)

Of course, Fergus has whole-heartedly embraced the idea that many endurance horses follow: Your own food is disgusting, but everyone else's is delicious. And being the paranoid bunch we are, it is imperative that they eat something, anything, especially on a 100-miler. Fergus wanted some of Kody's alfalfa. Kody wanted Fergus's (beautiful!) grass hay. And Fergus didn't want anything that had his boring ol' Elk Grove pellets in it. He decided that rice bran, hand-fed by me, was acceptable. Carrots were good. Apples were better. And I was a big meanie for stuffing a syringe in his mouth and electrolyting him. (After years of dealing with the pony, I'm pretty confident in my ability to syringe e'lyte just about any horse out there...)

And then it was time to go again. It was a relief to pack everything up and get out of the dust bowl, although it set the weather tone for the rest of the ride, and the wind never really did stop blowing for the rest of the time.

Driving back towards VC3, we caught up with them at a point where the road and trail runs sort of parallel to each other and I was able to snap some photos of them going along:

And then again several minutes later when the trail crossed the road:

We made a quick detour back to camp to pick up some extra clothing as requested, then back to VC3.

At least it wasn't dusty.

This one was another 20-minute hold and the horses came in starving.

Incoming!

Kody was firmly into "nomming everything in sight" mode and I'd finally found a mix that tempted Fergus: Beet pulp and LMF feed. And alfalfa. And carrots. They vetted through looking great and munched for the rest of the hold while Lucy changed tights to a non-rubbing pair.

We whisked them off yet again (sensing a trend here?) and I got another photo op at another road crossing:

And then it was back into camp for VC4, their second hour-long hold. We met them with blankets and hay to munch, then pulled tack for them to vet through. Both horses looked really good vetting through...as they had all day. Kody gave everyone a mild heart attack when he tripped and knee-planted a few miles outside of camp, but despite his skinned knee, he vetted through with no problems and was deemed "good to go."

Loop One, 65 miles, done!

I had to laugh as I elected to carry Lucy's saddle back to the trailer. I had mistakenly thought that treeless saddles were supposed to be lightweight...and hefting it back up onto 16+hh Fergus would be more work than carrying it.

Or not.

Ah, well. Got my upper body workout.

KC fed the riders dinner -- pasta and sausage in marinara sauce -- while I cleaned up the horses and taped glowsticks on breastcollars and headlamps on helmets. All too soon, it was time to tack up again: Repeat the morning antics of hefting the saddle onto Fergus and making sure the pad is straight. Thank goodness for stepstools. (Why're the two shortest people in the room crewing for/riding the tallest horse?)

Onto Loop Two...35 miles.

After they headed back out, it was time for crew people to sit and eat dinner...mmmm, hot pasta tasted sooo good. I filled up thermoses with hot water, packed up the truck for round two, then we were off again. Destination: The "hot chocolate stop" at the south Hwy395 crossing. Not an official stop, but management puts out hay and water and it's easy access for crew. We gave the riders cups of hot chocolate and pans of sloppy mash for the horses, and I performed quick-change pit crew duties, replacing one of Kaity's boots that had busted a cable with a spare. (And Kody kneed me in the side of my head for my troubles.)

It was cold and windy, so we urged them out of there before the horses could get cold, then we headed over to VC5 -- last check and same location as VC3.

We actually had enough time before their anticipated arrival (Kaity had done meticulous timing sheets based on her ride here last year and Lucy's ride in 2010, so we had a really good idea of when to expect them and how long it would take between sections; plus Kaity would text approximate ETAs) to grab a quick nap in the truck...I think I managed maybe 20 minutes before waking up, worried I would miss a text -- or worse, their arrival.

The horses came in absolutely starving and munched non-stop for the next 15 or so minutes while Kaity and Lucy sat in the truck and raided their own food stashes. I'd replaced the cable on Kaity's boot while we were waiting, so swapped the boot back to the original.

I got really, really cold standing out in the wind tending to the horses, despite wearing three layers of jackets, so getting in the warm truck and heading back to camp felt really good, and once back in camp, I bundled myself into Lucy's trailer, turned on the heater, and sat in front of it for a while as I boiled water and made some hot soup and hot chocolate. I also laid down for about 15 minutes, and after some food and rest, didn't feel as pathetic and shivery.

Best text in the world from Kaity:

"10 mins :)"

I scrambled around camp, making sure everything was set for their arrival, then we headed over to where they'd be coming in, blankets and hay in hand. Roughly 10 (or so...) minutes later, we saw glowsticks approaching in the distance.

And call me ridiculous, but we exchanged a few "woo-hoo" exclamations back and forth as they came in...hey, they went 100 miles. They deserve a celebration and welcoming committee...even if it's a committee of two. :)

We got both horses vetted out right away...both riders still insisting on running their own horses out. Everyone looked bright-eyed and happy...and starving. Fergus helped himself to the carrots I had stuffed in my jacket pockets...and tried to sample a finger along the way. (Ow.)

Once back at the trailer, I had laid out a gourmet buffet of pretty much everything edible, and they dove in. Untacked, covered in fleecies and blankets, legs wrapped -- Fergus a dry wrap, Kody poulticed (still digging poultice out from under my fingernails) and wrapped -- and left with enough energy to change into pajamas and crawl into bed.

Sunlight and whinnying horses all conspired against me by 8AM, at which point Lucy and I both reluctantly admitted we were awake and should probably get up, even if we really didn't wanna.

We did go over to watch the BC judging for the 65s and 100s...some really excellent-looking horses who didn't look like they'd gone their respective distances.

In terms of actual ride reporting, I'm fairly useless for knowing/remembering placings and who finished and who didn't...I tend to get pretty wrapped up in tending to my rider(s)/horse(s) and kind of forget about the rest of the ride. One-track mind, me. :)

The rest of the morning was spent with the ride breakfast/awards, some more Renegade business, then gathering all of my stuff back together and packing up camp. Oh, and there was a brief break in their for a shower -- a SHOWER!!! -- and the chance to wash the lake bed off, which is probably why I didn't actually turn my bathtub brown once I got home. Holding a ridecamp at a fairgrounds, with things like permanent bathrooms and showers and tables, is very civilized and I like it.

I was kind of dreading the drive back to the airport, knowing how fuzzy-brained I was feeling at that point. So I stopped at Starbucks for caffeine and some sustenance to munch on, then once I got on the road and through the parts where I had to remember where I was going, called over to Renegade Headquarters to give my weekend play-by-play report. Chatting with Kirt and Gina took up probably close to an hour, so by the time I finished with that, I was well into the "pretty" part of the drive by Tejon Ranch, so that was enough to keep my interest, and then I got close to Bakersfield and had to pay attention to where I was going again, so managed to get myself to the airport in fine shape.

Of course, me being me, I had left Ridgecrest with the intent to allow plenty of time for any mishaps along the way. Nothing happens...so I found myself with about 3 hours to spare before my flight. Ah, well...that's what books are for. And I do have to make one comment...the one good thing that came out of the (still-blowing) wind: My flight got in half an hour early. That was a pleasant surprise. Yay, tailwind.

I'm mostly caught up on sleep now (as I sit here trying to convince myself I absolutely do not need another cup of coffee) and in the thick of packing and getting ready for leaving for Sonoita Friday morning.

Prior to last weekend, my only real experience with crewing has been Tevis, which is intense and can be a bit stressful. But the weird thing about Tevis is, I think (at least for me) it's a more mental challenge. There's the fact you're chasing the clock, and there's typically multiple-person crew management, and the logistics of schlepping stuff and moving whole rigs from place to place. Plus, there's just the intensity of it being a ride like Tevis. But you also only end up at two vet checks, plus the finish. So the set-up and the hour of the check itself is the intense part...bracketed by a whole ton of "sit around and wait."

With a ride like 20 Mule Team, it's definitely less intense. But I felt like I did a lot more, with 6 stops (5 checks plus the hot chocolate stop, plus the finish), all of which involved crew assistance. There wasn't the time-clock pressure: We had a really good idea of when to expect them coming in to checks, and the furthest drive we had was maybe half an hour from check to check.

And I had a blast. There's something immensely satisfying in knowing you helped someone's ride go that much smoother and helped contribute, in part, to a successful ride. And time spent with such great friends is always enjoyable. And crewing is a great way to get the feel for a ride and what to expect when riding it...especially since I intend for 20 Mule Team to be my first 100 when that time comes.

And now it's back to my packing and list-making for Sonoita.