Dance Line ReVisits Goethe

[Howard4567@aol.com]

Dance Line Revisits Goethe
by Howard Bramhall

Part One

I am so damn happy today!  I feel like I reached a goal that I have been 
trying to attain all my life.  Dance Line, my beautiful, most wonderful, 
glorious, long neck'd, long back'd, 17 hand, sorrel, full blooded American 
Saddlebred, just completed his first 50 mile endurance ride!  I can't walk by 
this magnificent creature without giving him a big hug and thanking him for 
being so damn cool.  He lights up my life and is a big part of my family. He 
doesn't understand why I hug him so much, I don't think he knows what an AERC 
completion is even though I discuss it with him over and over again. And, as 
embarrassing as it is to admit, he is my best friend.  I don't make or keep 
human ones very easily.

We attempted one 50 mile ride last March, and he did finish the 50 miles, but 
we did not get a completion because he collapsed and almost died at the 
finish line.  Yes, I know I beat that story to death (pun not intended) if 
you heard me mention it before, but I just can't help myself.  "Let it go, 
Howard, let it go," some riders have said to me.  Well, that memory will 
leave me when it does, and it until it does it lingers on.  In a past life I 
must have been an elephant because some things I never forget.

Anyway, it was all I could do not to cry at the awards ceremony last night 
when I went up and received recognition for finishing.  Helen, one of the two 
ride managers, even let me have a cool fly mask that should be large enough 
to cover Dance's face and ears, something I would not, normally, expect to 
receive for coming in 42nd place.  I even said a few words to the crowd 
(public speaking is not my style) and I didn't lose it but I'll tell y'all 
about that later (remind me if I forget).   Here's my story; I'll try and 
keep this one clean, but I'm sure I'll end up offending some of you.  I still 
have visions of naked women when I'm out there on the trail.

This ride was a Florida ride, my favorite state, my home, my life.  I wasn't 
born in Florida but I know I belong here and I will remain here till the day 
I die.  I've asked my family to scatter my ashes in the ocean, ten miles 
offshore from Daytona Beach when that day does come.  I want to continue 
swimming with the sharks like I've done most of my life.  All of what's left 
of me but one cup, which I want placed on top of where Dance Line is buried.  
I have visions of Jennifer carrying out this morbid request for me.  In 
addition to riding together, Jennifer and I go deep sea fishing, sometimes so 
far from shore you no longer can see land, on our boat, usually accompanied 
by our dog, a cinnamon chow named Taffy.  Everyone else in the family gets 
seasick.

One good thing about a Florida ride, for me, is I do not need to get a stupid 
health certificate.  My trailing journey would keep me within the confines of 
the heavily patrolled state border.  Another reason why I was happy about 
going to this ride was I was pretty confident that the woman from north 
Georgia, the one I'm no longer allowed to discuss, wasn't going to be there.  
Rumor was she doesn't think Florida rides are too far away and not worth the 
journey.  Either that or she was snowed in up there in the mountains since we 
were a week away from winter.  I haven't seen snow in over ten years.  I have 
kids who have never seen snow.

The ride is called the Goethe ride and is in a State forest with the same 
name.  Goethe was my first endurance ride exactly two years ago.  I guess I'm 
no longer on my endurance honeymoon, but, man, every time I think of my first 
ride there it still brings back sweet memories (as sweet as chocolate covered 
cherries, my favorite).  Dance Line and I had done a fast 25 miles (I knew no 
better back then) and we would have top tenned if I hadn't gotten lost.  Now, 
I no longer even consider coming in the top twenty.  I never want to know 
what place I'm in during a ride.  Winning a ride is not my goal.  I just want 
a healthy horse when we're done and a completion is good, but a horse that is 
fit to continue is paramount to me and I ride my ride with only that in mind. 
 I'm not the same rider I was two years ago.

After that first ride at Goethe I got the urge to write about it and tell 
anyone who would take the time to read my story titled, "Rookie Horse, Rookie 
Rider."  I just had to tell others about the exciting world of endurance 
because the experience was so new, different and unique to me.  And so 
wonderful!  Even though I felt I pretty much sucked as a writer I went and 
wrote the story anyway and put it out there on the Internet.  I think it's 
still there on an endurance website appropriately named endurance.net. For 
me, Goethe was like your first lover, the person you give your virginity to; 
and you never forget her.

I had to miss Goethe last year; it just happened to fall on my wedding 
anniversary, and even though I had every intention on going, my wife had 
other plans for me and kind of put the hammer down.  I, reluctantly, gave in 
(like I had a choice).  My friends told me it rained there during ride day so 
I guess my wife did me a favor, but, missing the ride last year just 
increased my desire to be there this time.  And I was taking my daughter, 
Jennifer, and her horse, Rebel, with me along with my giraffe of a horse, 
Dance Line.  Jennifer and Rebel have already completed three 50 mile rides, 
but this would be her first trip to Goethe.

We got there after a two hour trailer ride.  Only two hours, can you imagine? 
 The campsite looked crowded on that Friday morning, but I found an area, 
close to the vet check but not too close, and started backing up.  Truman, a 
regular at these rides was parked near where I wanted to go and I saw him, 
wearing his shorts and hanging out near his trailer.  I asked if it would 
upset him if I parked close by, knowing that he knew I was a dangerous 
camper.  He just rolled his eyes, looked up as if asking God if it would be 
safe, and then he told me, "Sure, no problem. It's so warm I can't see you 
setting your trailer on fire this time."

Now, someone had placed some empty buckets in the area I wanted to take so I 
went around the other campsites and asked the folks there if the buckets 
belonged to them.  They all said no, so I just moved the buckets and backed 
up my rig.  I've been through this bucket thing before and, from what I've 
learned at other rides, saving spots for people who may or may not show up is 
not legal.  Besides, I'm used to having people angry at me so one more added 
to the list is not a problem for me.

As I'm unloading the horses and setting up the portable corral a very big man 
approaches me and I have a feeling the shit is about to hit the fan.  I don't 
know him but I have a feeling I'm going to.  He starts in about saving spots 
for his friends, I admit to moving the buckets but tell him saving spots is 
not really legit. I had already unloaded enough stuff to be damned sure I 
wasn't going anywhere so I dug in my heels ready for combat.   Luckily, he 
buys what I'm selling, takes his buckets and moves on.  Man, too easy, maybe 
I scared him off with my large 5'8" frame.  haha.  Two years ago, as a 
Rookie, I would have packed up and moved on to another spot.