The "first 100" stories have been great. My
own first 100 was also my first-ever endurance ride. It was at Virginia
City back in 1973. (Dang, I just realized that that was 30 years
ago....) My then-young stallion Surrabu and I hauled down there with my
parents as a pit crew, and started off with more faith than knowledge at 4 a.m.
in front of the Bucket of Blood Saloon. Everybody took off hell bent for
election, and not knowing any better, I took off right with them. The
first vet check was just after sunrise, at 29 miles. Then we looped back
through some of the country we'd crossed in the dark--and I was mortified to
realize that I had literally galloped through watermelon-sized boulders in the
dark! I pretty much rode on my own to the 61-mile point at Horseman's Park
in Reno. At that point, a crusty experienced rider took me under his wing
and we rode together through the heat of the afternoon (much more slowly) to the
84-mile point at Washoe Lake. I don't know if I'd've made it (or at least
not as well as I did) without that guy. I left Washoe Lake just at dusk to
do the last 16 miles in the dark. My horse got a real second wind, but I
didn't really take advantage of it--I knew I could finish in plenty of time to
get my buckle, and it never occurred to me to let him speed up and go on ahead
with horses that passed us, even though he wanted to. I had the most
mystical walk in the moonlight down Ophir Grade to the finish on my best buddy,
and still ended up in 28th place out of 92 starters. I distinctly recall
seeing people with Ace bandages wrapped around their knees at the beginning of
the ride and thinking to myself what an odd thing that was--didn't these people
RIDE?? And at the end of the ride, when the insides of my knees were
bloody and looked like ground hamburger from the seams of my jeans (and STUCK to
the jeans because of the dried blood--yeeouch!), I remember thinking, "My, what
SMART people to have wrapped their knees in Ace bandages!" (We've come a
long way in 30 years!) Somewhere my mom still has a picture of me,
sound asleep at about mid-morning on Sunday morning on a sleeping bag
spread out on some straw bales on the loading dock of the old railroad station
at Virginia City, where base camp was. (We got there a couple of
days early and got a good spot, right up against the loading
dock.)
I didn't get to another endurance ride until 1975,
but I definitely had the bug, and I still dearly love 100-milers--if I can only
get back in shape to do them again!
