Ridecamp: [RC] Nick Warhol- Virginia City100 Ride Story- part 1 of 4

The Virginia City 100, 2002
Tougher than Tevis?
And oh, what a moon!

This year was the 35th running of the Virginia City 100, making it one of
the oldest endurance rides anywhere.   Virginia City is in Nevada, about 30
miles south east of Reno, way up in the mountains at about 6000 feet.  It?s
an old western mining town that was huge in the silver mining days of old.
It?s also where Hoss, Adam, and Little Joe used to frequent, to get drunk at
the saloon, after their Pa hollered at them.  Today the town is a tourist
place that caters to visitors from all over, even endurance riders.  The
NASTR (Nevada All State trail riders) group has been around a long time and
puts on the 100-mile event each year.  There?s no fifty or LD ride here,
just the 100.  Ride manager Connie Creech, who is just about the nicest
person anywhere, does a terrific job of putting on this big event.  These
NASTR people really do it right; it shows in the overall quality of the
ride.  This was my first attempt at the VC100, and guess who I got to ride?
Yep, Zayante again.  This old codger has propelled me through 450 miles so
far this year with no pulls, including the Washoe 100 in April, held just
down the highway.  He?s looking good, and ripped through the Eastern High
Sierra Classic a few weeks ago, so away we go!  My riding partners were
Jackie Bumgardner (his owner) who rode her great mare Holly, along with
Merri Melde on Jackie?s horse Raffiq, a spunky seven year old Arabian
gelding. (who?s for sale, buy the way.  Raffiq, not Merri.)

This would be Merri?s first attempt at a 100, as well as Raffiq?s.  Base
camp for the ride was located right in the middle of town, just a block from
the main drag.   It was sort of neat, being right in the middle of town, at
least the day before the ride.  The ride meeting was held in a place called
the depot, a huge warehouse sort of thing that had been converted to a dance
hall, complete with a piano.  Connie and head vet Susan McCartney educated
everyone on the ride, then turned the ride meeting over to the Calcutta
guys.  The who?   Hey, this is Nevada!  They have this tradition of holding
a little lottery sort of thing on this ride.  I was a little fuzzy on the
gambling concept, even though I grew up in Nevada, but it works sort of like
this:  for each weight division in the ride, people bid on all the riders,
hoping to pick who they think will finish first, second, or third in their
division.  The highest bidder gets that rider, the pot is all the money
taken in for that weight division.  They pay out money for win, place, and
show based on some strange formula.  We were outside listening to the
madness going on in there, it sounded like a lot of fun.  I thought it was
cool when someone put in a bid on me!  Our sleeping arrangements were the
back of Jackie?s horse trailer, since the camper was left at home in favor
of the speedier car, since Jackie was hauling the horses.   And speaking of
speedy cars, the Ferrari Club of North America was in town, having rented
the main highway out of Virginia City to the south.   They were holding a
timed race up the mountain in some of the neatest cars in the world.  The
cops just shut down the road, and let the racing begin!  You can do anything
in Nevada with enough money.  It was music to my ears when the Ferrari 512
Boxer in complete race trim came flying up the twisty highway at full tilt,
its V-12 screaming out a glorious melody.  The Maranalo?s, the Modena?s, the
Testarosa?s, what a treat!


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