The Wife, the Kid & Me: Part Two

[Howard4567@aol.com]

The Wife, the Kid, & Me
Part Two

The next day the 50 milers started warming up. The 100 milers had already 
left. Dance Line was extremely hyper as usual.  I had a hard time getting up 
on him because he wouldn't stay still.  Erica tried to help me but I didn't 
want her to get hurt or stepped on by my giraffe.  He even reared a bit, but 
Erica continued to watch from a close, safe, distance.  I finally got my 
horse's attention, stepped up on an overturned bucket and we were off.

Jennifer and Rebel followed us, closely, as we got our horses ready for the 
start to come.  And then I saw her, up ahead, with an entourage on both sides 
and behind.  But no one dared to ride in front of my gal Val.

Our paths crossed while warming up, with our horses going in opposite 
directions.  She even glanced at my horse once, probably wondering why anyone 
would enter such a creature in a 50 mile endurance run.  I was tempted to get 
Dance to rear up, just to get Val's attention, but I decided it wouldn't be 
prudent to do so. 

I didn't even get to say Hi to her before the start; she had so many others 
around her who evidently weren't as shy as me when it came to speaking with 
her.  That's OK, I told myself.  I'll get my chance to talk with her on the 
trail.  They won't all be able to keep up with her.

And then the run began.  We were all off and Val was leading the pack in an 
instant canter.  We made a quick turn to the right on a dirt road, 40 or so 
riders.  Jen and I were in the middle of the pack.  The start of the ride is 
the most exciting part to me and this was where you always do that gut check 
and pray nothing happens to your kid.  This is one place where falling off 
your horse could mean death.

Dance was moving quickly.  I had to pull back on the reins just to keep him 
in check.  He wanted to gallop and catch up to Val.  I did too but I didn't 
want to put Jennifer in a position of too much danger.  She already was in a 
little danger and adding to it wouldn't be very smart.  

Up ahead one of the riders had lost control of his horse.  The horse was 
turning sideways and kicking out.  I tried to go around him but had to stop 
Dance completely cause this man's horse was totally out of control.  I wanted 
to tell him the Limited Distance riders weren't supposed to start until 30 
minutes from now, but he looked kind of busy for conversation.  I got around 
him as he was spinning his horse in circles.  The horse kicked out as Jen was 
passing him and the back feet missed her head by inches.  Jen hardly noticed 
this, but I did.  My face was flushed, I could feel the anger as I saw Death 
flash by my kid with this horse's hind hooves.  Sometimes I wonder why I got 
Jennifer into this sport; softball or swimming seem so much safer to me.  

We get back into our canter, but Val was out of site.  She was gone and I 
never saw her again the entire day.  I had no idea that a 30 second delay 
would make that much difference since I knew my horse could ride with anyone 
that first loop.  But Val isn't just anyone and I couldn't believe the pace 
she was keeping.  My vision of riding with Val, side by side had just been 
erased; the TV screen playing that scene in my head was now a total blank.  
All of my questions would just have to wait for another time.

This story really isn't about this ride; it's not even about Val.  It's 
mostly about the wife and her being drawn into my world.  The world of 
endurance.  And the beginning of that happening started at this ride.  The 
Far Out Forest, February, 2001,  55 miles from my back door.

The kid had already been drawn in; it didn't take much for that to happen.  
She was and is a natural. But I had kind of planned that one, with the kid; 
she's been riding since she was two years old.  Jennifer is my Tiger Woods; 
we started early, she was 9 (close to the minimum age allowed) when she 
experienced her first endurance run, and I plan on her doing it forever, as 
long as I am still able to load the horses and drive the truck.   I had never 
planned on the wife doing this especially since she kind of gave up riding 
horses a couple of years ago. 

While Jennifer and I were out on the first half of the ride, which came out 
to 30 miles with one away vet check, Erica walked around the campsite, 
meeting people, watching the riders and taking it all in.  She even had time 
to relax and read for a while.  After all, most of the action was out on the 
trail, not here at ridecamp.  

After the hours started to run together making the wait seem longer than 
expected, she decided to rearrange the section of our horse trailer where I 
keep all the tack.  When Jen and I got back from our first half of the ride I 
couldn't find anything in there since I just throw the stuff I'm using on the 
floor.  Erica had organized the entire section and I ended up having to ask 
her to find stuff for me.  "Hon, where's the electrolytes?" I'd ask.  "What 
do they look like?" she'd respond.  After doing 30 miles, I'm not in the best 
of moods, but I realized I'd just better shut the heck up and look for it 
myself.  Damn if the room didn't look neater than I had ever seen it before.

And this was just the start of what was to change in my life.  Being 
organized.  I knew Jennifer would be like this, eventually, when she was done 
being a kid.  Me, I've always been a slob.  Anything else is too much work, 
and I'm just not the type to spend too much time cleaning or arranging 
anything.  Life it too short for that sort of nonsense.

I looked into my trailer's miniature tack room and became mesmerized by the 
organization.  Blankets were with other blankets, all arranged according to 
size and color, bridles and bits were together, arranged according to some 
pattern that I didn't recognize.  Everything had quite an orderly look, when 
viewed from the ground. Crops, quarter chaps, sponges, ropes, brushes, feed 
supplements, and tons of other stuff I bring to these things were all 
arranged and separated, all within hand's reach.  I looked into this room in 
astonishment.  It took my breath away.

Jennifer and I successfully completed the ride.  We both finished, got a 
completion, coming in next to last place.  Dance and Rebel were tired, but 
not to the point where I was worried about anything.  We crossed the finish 
line almost ten hours after the start of the run.  Long, long day.  And, yes, 
Val did win the 50.  Her ride time was 4 and one half hours; she came in 
alone, nobody was close to her at Far Out Forest.

Sometime during that Saturday night, sitting out cooking steak and drinking 
beer, Erica turned to me and said she'd like to start coming to more of these 
things.  She enjoyed the camping, didn't even complain about sleeping in the 
tent, even when the grounds were filled with rigs that had kitchens, 
bathrooms, and sleeping quarters inside.  And then she hit me with it, out of 
the blue, a request that just about knocked me out of my chair.  My wife 
said, "I want you to start giving me riding lessons on Rebel when we get back 
home."