[RC] Endurance, Carolina Style: Part Fourteen - Howard Bramhall
Pink is not a manly color, although after doing this loop twice I will
admit, I now see pink quite differently. This was, after all, the loop I
had practiced on most of the week prior to the ride; I had become familiar with
the color. The reason I had repeated it on each of my three horses was the
ridge line; long and overall flat ground (flat according to Leatherwood's
definition of the word). The views seen while riding the ridge
line had been spectacular, although those views were not to be seen in
today's overcast sky.
Early on loop two, I had hooked up with Lara, a rider new to endurance whom
I had met at the convention. The poor girl was one of Jim Holland's
protégé's and this was her first endurance ride: the Leatherwood 50 miler.
Even though I had made the mistake of saying that this was, also, Tim's first 50
miler (it wasn't; it was his second), I have validated these facts with
Lara. Jim has yet to answer my email (I think he's still out there going
for the completion at Leatherwood).
Keep in mind, whenever I mention another rider, my facts could very well be
fiction, so, please, don't ever expect me to get anything right. I rarely
do. I count on Michael Maul to get the facts correct at an endurance ride;
if you're counting on me you might as well know my world is one of
illusion. Reality and fiction coexist on my planet. I'm rarely certain of
anything except for the one fact that I ride to live and I live to ride and I
really do experience most of this on a horse named America. Other
than that, anything else is suspect.
Lara decided she would ride with me and America for awhile. Three
hours later she would regret this decision. On the flat ground, America
started flying. I pulled back on him, but not all that much. The
speed of his canter would steadily increase, and, he started doing
something new, even if it was an offshoot of something old. He started
that slalom thing, going back and forth, zig-zagging along the narrow
trail. I didn't even pull sideways on the reins; he was doing this
completely on his own. The scary thing was, he would zig towards that drop
off side of the trail, and since we were on the ridgeline, the drop off area was
sometimes on both sides. What on earth is he doing here?
It was as if he was saying, "OK, Boss, I know I'm going too fast here, so,
let me turn my head like I know you're going to make me do anyway. We'll
go this way, then we'll bank to the left and go the other way, covering more
ground than necessary in that inefficient manner you seem to enjoy so much when
you decide I'm running too fast." This is how we ran most of the second
loop, gaining ground on more and more riders. Poor Lara decided she was
going to keep up with us, commenting on my riding ability, or lack there of,
every time America did something out of the ordinary. Out of the ordinary
was more common, here, on the second loop, than on any other that day.
Faster and faster we went, for more distance than I should have
allowed. But, I must admit, it was damn fun, and, I do believe Lara was
enjoying this type of riding, also (like Tim, maybe, she'll comment; isn't
Interactive writing exciting?). If nothing else, I do believe America and
I were entertainment, during the late morning and early afternoon, for
Lara, until a sad thing happened.
I'll kind of fast forward, reverse, spin dry, and, confuse some,
here. We did the second loop rather quickly. Lara and I both got
through the vet checks and, somehow, she got the drop on me and left sooner,
even though we kind of came in together. Anyway, the third loop was the
pink, all over again. Except, this time, America was working on the tired
end of his ride chain. I noticed it right away, while we were making
that initial mile plus climb for the third time today. I got off my horse,
midway, and started walking. This was early on, during the game, to be
walking my horse but, my gut told me it was the right thing to
do. I would get off, jog, walk, jog and walk, again, whenever my horse's
actions indicated this was a good idea. During the course of the day,
I walked my horse, with me on foot, more that ride than I have ever done
before. This is as close to the sport of Ride & Tie as I will ever
get.
After that climb, which now seemed to be over 3 miles, I remounted and he
took off. Canter was what he wanted, trot is what he received. We
had plenty of time. The sun had come out, and even produced a little heat
when you were in direct light. I removed my jacket and tied it around
my waist. I had a feeling I'd need it later on in the day.
