I knew this ride was going to be a fast one. Seven inches of rain
over the holiday weekend had flattened down the sand making it nice and
firm. A much better condition for the horses than loose, deep sand.
America and I had both agreed we were going to try and keep up with the
front runners that first loop. The air was crisp, the sky clear,
temperature was in the low 30's and a breeze was predicted later on in the
day. My inner voice screamed out in silence, "Let's get ready to
Rumble."
As I warmed up America adjacent the fenced in area holding one incredibly
large buffalo, one camel who seemed to enjoy spitting at you and your horse
if you got too close to the fence, some emus, ostriches (they're larger than
emus), miniature horses, goats, and a few other animals I had no idea what the
heck they were called, I felt a warm burning fire starting to blaze inside my
belly. The heat helped me keep warm and stay alert. I love the start
of these things and deciding to run with the first group, out in front, on a
horse who "knows what is going on and expects to be let loose at any
second so he can fly" soon after Nancy says the words "trail's open, can
get one to thinking, "Today is a good day to die."
Well, I'm sure I could be alone with that thought, warming up with a group
of 45 other riders here for the sometimes chaotic start of a 50 mile
endurance ride at a Florida ride named Jennings. But, somehow, I think
there might be one or two other riders in this group who are thinking exactly
the same thing. "Today really is a good day to die." And, we
say this with a slight smile on our face. Without some danger, there would
be no thrill, and I have yet to not be thrilled during an endurance ride.
The liveliest part of the entire ten hour show was about to begin.
"30 seconds," yells out Nancy. I look at my watch and count them
down, three….two….one. We're off! A trot at first, four other riders
ahead of me, and America matches the other horse's pace as though the five of
them, all braced at the poll and ready for anything, acting like they practice
this sort of thing on a daily basis. I'm perfectly willing to trot all day
long, but I know this will not last. There are three concrete bridges
ahead (I checked out this trail yesterday) and, after we cross them, all bets
are off that the horses will remain in any sort of trot.
The horses, as a group, go into the canter. Riding with a group of
strangers, like I do so often during an endurance week-end, it never ceases to
amaze me how one horse will react off another, and, sometimes, their motion
flows in tandem, as if they were all a flock of birds, airborne, acting as one
unit instead of several different ones. Everything seems quite controlled,
at first, but after crossing the last bridge, the canter becomes a gallop, and
it seems to grow in speed with each and every step. The spark has been
lit, the heater is on full blast, and the horses, at least this group of five in
the front, all have their after burners ignited.
I pull back slightly on the reins, but not all that hard. I want
America to think I have some sort of control over him even though we both know
otherwise. My horse, along with the other three (one rider has pulled back
and slowed down), is covering ground at a speed I'd guess to be close to 30
MPH. Glimmers of light flicker with the sun preparing to get out of bed,
but, it's still predawn darkness that rules the sky. It's at this very
moment that I know nothing that I ever do during the rest of my lifetime
will match this feeling I have, right here, right now. Nirvana,
moment of ZEN, Gold fever, Jesus Lives, whatever you wish to call it, I have
peaked on a horse named America in an emotional conglomeration of adrenaline
rush, self satisfaction, and thrill seeker status. I am grateful to
be alive, riding atop a magnificent steed that has been graced and touched by
the hand of God. Get the idea? I'm so friggen happy I could
cry.
Among the 40 or 50 riders here today, my ole buddy, Susan K. is not
among them. I rode with Susan at Hahira a couple of months back and
find myself thinking of her during the start of Jennings Boogie. I hope
you don't mind, with the excitement of all these horses pounding the wet sand
alongside, but, I do have a Susan story that I'd like to share with ya'll, and,
since, I'm currently in my moment of Zen, thinking pleasant thoughts to distract
me from the very idea that if I fall off my horse now, at this speed, I'm a
dead guy, here's the story:
