Nick's Tevis story - part 3

[guest@endurance.net]

Judy Long julong@cisco.com

        The one-hour hold went quick, especially since I spent a quarter
of
it with a vet.  After my egg salad sandwich, (that's me cooking) I headed
back out towards Cavanaugh Ridge, all by myself.  Warpaint was pulling me
and jigging as usual.  I passed Kristin Bernsten, who was doing her first
Tevis, then Karen and Brenda.  I got down to the freeway dirt road and
trotted along, where I caught up to Gary and his daughter.  At least Gary
was on the trail.  We trotted along, making up some more time on the easy
roads that led to Dusty Corners and a vet check.  No problem- we zipped
through and went on our way, down the neat single-track trail that takes
you
along some serious ridges above the American River.   There is this one
spot
that you really don't want to turn right at.  It would be about a thousand
feet down.  Not for the faint of heart.  It's just one little turn, but if
you look down, you think: "wow."  I was riding all-alone with the Appy
just
trucking along, him feeling stronger than he did in 99, if that is
possible.
This turkey is 17 years old now!   We zipped through the trail and headed
down the first of the big downhill canyon trails.   This trail is so beat
up
it is almost like riding in the wilderness in spots.   I led him all the
way
down to the river, where we went in for a drink and a cooling off.   It
was
hot, but not nearly as hot as it has been in the past.   We went across
the
infamous swinging bridge, letting a horse follow us that didn't want to go
across alone.   Now for some uphill- I tailed the horse all the way up
that
climb to Devils Thumb.  That's a lung buster for sure, but Warpaint jams
uphill at a walk, passing several horses on the climb.  People would just
watch him power by in amazement, with me dragging myself up along behind
him.  The water stop at the top is a welcome sight.  He drank very well,
as
did I.  A mile and a half to the next check at Deadwood, it is 3:40 pm, so
far everything is perfect.  We trot over to the next check and say hi to
the
in timers, Karen and Roberta from my riding club.  I show up right at 4:00
pm, 15 minutes better than last time.   Off to the check, Warpaint
recovers,
trot for the vet, and WHAM!   He's slightly off, left front.  NO!  Dianna
Hassel is the vet, she knows the horse, and says, yep, it is slight, but
it's there.  If this were the quarry, you walk in for a completion, but
not
with 45 miles to go.
        DARN!  I'm so depressed at this point, but that's the way the ball
bounces.  The horse is eating everything in site and still has another
hundred miles worth of fire going on inside.  I dejectedly go over to the
trailer waiting zone and get in line.  Here comes Mike and Zayante, they
get
pulled for a slight lameness as well.   Gary and his daughter come in,
they
are standing about 50 feet away.  Gary sees me with a saddle-less horse
and
shrugs a "what happened?" look.  I respond with a finger across my throat
and a thumbs down sign.  He looks back and raises his hands in a "What's
wrong?" motion.  I take my two fingers and do a little trot / run in front
of me.  Gary grabs his ankle and asks with a shrug;  "Leg?"  I nod "yes."
He then takes his two hands and makes a "BIG?" gesture,  then a "little"
gesture with his fingers.  I respond "little" with my fingers.  He nods, I
see the "sorry" in his gesture.   Cool- now we are doing endurance sign
language.  Maybe we can create a new wordless horse riding language, or go
scuba diving together.
        My ride ended at Deadwood.  I had to wait a while for a trailer
ride
out of there, which I wish I never got on.  The driver thought he was in
the
Baja 1000 the way he was driving.  The poor horses were being bounced
around
and were scrambling way too much.  He hit a dip so hard the safety chains
on
the trailer popped off, I had to tell him to stop to put them back on.  No
matter how many times I told him to slow down (from the back of the truck)
he kept racing.  He had to lock up the brakes to avoid a head on collision
with another rig coming the other way.   I'm thinking, "great, 3 horses
and
five people killed by idiot driving off the side of a mountain at Tevis."
Ride Management- tell these guys to take it easy.  The poor horses have
been
through enough, they don't need that kind of treatment.   We made it back
to
Foresthill and got cleaned up, then loaded Warpaint and Zayante up for the
trip to the fairgrounds.   That's two pretty cool horses in that there
trailer, I don't mind saying.  We got them bedded down in their stalls and
all trooped over to dinner at Chevy's to drown our sorrows in Mexican
food.
I sat there in the restaurant, looking out the window at the full moon.
It
was just about midnight, I should have been down by the river, through
Francisco's maybe.  I closed my eyes and saw Warpaint and I trotting along
on the trails down there, in the dark.  He just cruises through the night,
no fuss or bother.  We only have a few miles to go, then....  Dinner
comes.
Darn again.
        It was a rough time for finishers this year, with 91 finishers out
of 225 starters.  Yikes, that's a lot of pulls.   Gary made it to the
finish, his daughter had to stop at Francisco's.  Brenda and Karen both
made
it, congratulations to both of them.   Mike Tracy was 13th or 14th on his
great horse Arron Moon, Joyce Souza finished well on Jim Bob.   And
special
congrats to Barbara White- her 25th buckle!   That is so impressive I
can't
say enough.
 I know Warpaint still has it in him, it's just those darn 17 year old
bones.   We think it might be his foot this time, making it another short
recovery for him.  Will we try it again?  Don't know, depends on the
horse.
I'll be back next year if I have to steal a horse to ride, but I'd much
rather be back on our magnificent endurance appaloosa, Warpaint.

Nick Warhol
Hayward, Ca.