Less than 48 hours till take off! The whole gang is excited. My wife is having trouble sleeping; I know it's a case of nerves. Can't blame her really, the thought of riding 50 miles with a nut like myself is enough to drive any Rookie Rider insane. The fact that she's controlling a sky full of aircraft early tomorrow morning, after spending half the night tossing and turning in her sleep mumbling, "Howard, slow down, passing left, Howard, slow down, passing right....." is another reason why I'm glad I no longer fly. And, she knows we're gonna be across that state line, in the land of North Georgia, where her husband has the gall to wear his GATOR cap amongst hundreds of Georgia folk, so anything's likely to happen. My wife is aware that there are a couple of North Georgia riders who aren't so crazy about her offensive husband, so she's concerned. She keeps telling me that my gun permit is only good in the State of Florida and I can't take it with me north into the land of Georgia. Ha, if Amber can take hers into Canada, mine's gone with me across that Georgia border. There's always that chance of running into a Gator poacher up there so this Gator's traveling prepared and ready. I don't plan on becoming one of those dead bodies that Amber and her friends go out looking for when they go horseback riding in Oregon ("The west is a verrrryyyyy scarrrrryyyyy place," says Elmer Fudd). It will be hot, but we're used to the heat. We've been training most of the summer, which is not an easy task with the squitoes and deer flies and dead birds all over the trail, casualties from West Nile. My horses hate stepping on dead birds, but sometimes there's so many of them out there, on the trail, there isn't much choice. I'm starting to wonder if this West Nile thing isn't some sort of anthrax attack, courtesy of Al Qada, that gang from the Middle East. Cause it sure did come from that part of the world. Flew in from there and got off a 747 at JFK in 1999 and then started traveling South. But, they say Bin Laden likes horses almost as much as he enjoys riding in a Toyota Land Cruiser, so I'm wondering if he'd really want to kill all these horses. Does he look at the breed, before he decides to try and kill it or not? I mean, if it's an Arabian horse, but was born and raised in America, does he take it out anyway? Or, does he give it some slack since it's almost kin. Does he even believe in kin? Sorry, I digress, and this isn't really a story, so, don't worry. It will all be over soon enough. I'll end it when I hit my 17 K limit. We've been training pretty hard. I've been doing my own horse trimming lately, but I do have a friend coming out tomorrow to put some shoes and pads on. I'm not ready to do that myself, yet, but I hope to by next year. The Georgia ride we're going to has so many man made rocks, the size of silver dollars, that I feel there's just no choice in the matter. I'm not a fan of the Easy boots and I've yet to see any of my barefoot horses traverse a gravel pit gracefully. So, on with the steel shoes. My heart monitor, for the horses, tells me all the guys are ready. They all stay under 120, after a 3 hour ride, trotting all the way, with few breaks. IF that's not enough this time of year I just might have to find another sport. Or move to those mountains. Or train like Debbi Foti, a fellow Floridian, who goes out at 4 am and doesn't come back home till well after dark (I wonder if Debbi does this in the summer time down here?) Even though this ride is considered a hot one, weather wise, this should be almost an advantage to us. None of my horses have anything that even resembles a coat of hair on them. They'd probably all start shivering if the temperature hit 50. We plan on doing the famous Rojak trot the entire 50 miles. NO CANTERING allowed! Back of the pack, well, maybe, the middle, the first loop. If memory serves me correctly there were a few pulls last year because of the heat. I was one of them, but I don't plan on that happening this year. But, then again, my plans never seem to work out. Scratch the plan, I have no plan. No plan at all. Ha, but the wife has a plan. She's in charge of the food, the packing, the timetable. I get to drive, but she'll be vectoring me like the pilots she's used to dealing with on a daily basis. "Traffic twelve o'clock, one half mile, opposite direction, large red semi, altitude 15 feet." She's only had three near misses this year so I feel pretty safe. lol. "Dad, why does that woman from North Georgia hate you so much?" "Well, Jen, she says she doesn't really hate me, but she does tell folks that I'm the most offensive person she's ever met in her entire life, so, I guess that means I shouldn't go up to her and say HELLO." "Well, Dad, what did you say to her that was so offensive?" "To tell you the truth, I don't really remember saying anything at all. If my memory serves me correctly, I think she did most of the talking. I just kind of mumbled 'Uh huh,' once in awhile. I must have done my grunts in an offensive manner or something." OK, enough of this. Sorry, sorry, sorry. I'll probably come back home from Georgia in a box, or, if I survive, find I've been banned from Ridecamp, again. Sorry, Steph, I really didn't mean anything there, I know you like her better than me, and, hey, that's OK, you wimmin really should stick together and all, it won't happen again, I understand that this sort of thing isn't really very humorous, Howard's world is a little too bizarre for those non-smoking, non-drinking, non-drug abusing, non-gambler types...... My wife will think I'm suicidal or something if I continue with this dialogue right before traveling up to North Georgia. This is something you put together after the ride, not before you get up there. Satan damn, Howard, pull yourself together man! This is endurance, be serious here; it's not some sort of comedy sketch for Mad TV. Well, the adventure begins. Heat, humidity, Georgia hills, and lots of man made rocks so the hunters can travel quickly in their 4 wheelers. They (the hunters) must love it when over a hundred horseback riders come cantering through their trails telling all the deer, "Beware, those men are coming to kill you in a couple weeks. Beware. Run for your lives." I wonder if I'm going to have to act like a deer during hunting season while I'm up there. If you never hear from me again, ya'll know what happened. lol. cya, Howard (watch out Georgia, the Gator redneck is coming)
|
