Endurance.Net Ridecamp Archives

Well, I suppose that it's only fitting that one of these days I had to 
write about something other than idyllic rides through mango and date 
groves or early morning desert rides in a t-shirt under sunny skies in 
December. It's tough living somewhere with a great climate, but 
someone's gotta do it, and it's easier to take on a snowy morning when 
you know that there is a down side.  So here's my down side:

My lovely daughter finally took off for New York and the halls of 
higher education, monkey sex and old bones (an anthropology major, not 
kinky!) at 3 am Saturday morning. Saturday was, needless to say, an 
utter write-off since it is an hour each way to the airport from my 
house, so sleep was in extremely short supply. That probably had a lot 
to do with my Sunday evening ride.

Yesterday I had the house to myself, got it cleaned, started the 
organisation job after 2 months of college students, and about 7:30 I 
decided to go out for a ride with Dory.  By 7:30 the horses have had 
their evening meal and it's getting dark, but living just outside a 
city of 20 million people darkness is relative. The moon was only about 
half full (can't actually recall seeing it) so it wasn't much help, but 
the light from the villas and farms was good and the sky looked like it 
was just before dawn...the way it does all night long here. They say 
that the Nile Valley is one of the brightest spots on earth and I can 
believe it.

I've been riding alone in the countryside at night for years and have 
never had any qualms about it. I know my neighbours and they know me. 
My horses ride these trails all the time and know their way home from 
almost anywhere. Dory in particular is my favourite choice for riding 
alone at night because she knows EVERYTHING and isn't afraid of 
anything. I always feel safe with her, so she was my partner last night.

We started out taking a 12 inch wide trail across the fields near the 
paddocks. They were irrigating some of the fields and the trail was 
broken in spots with the irrigation ditches filled with running water. 
Most Arabs in this neck of the woods regard running water much the same 
way that ghouls and witches do...not to be crossed....but with Dory, no 
problem. She hopped over without missing a beat, which was good since I 
didn't even see a couple of the ditches until we were on top of them. I 
was very proud of her. Midway down the trail she stopped to snitch some 
leaves from a farmer's corn crop and sneakily tried to turn around for 
home, like maybe I just wouldn't remember which direction we were 
taking.  Hah!  But she managed a 360 degree circle without stepping off 
the path.  Very good.

On a dirt road a bit further on, we caught up with a boy on a donkey. 
He got a bit competitive and Dory decided to show her heels lest the 
donkey get delusions of grandeur.  Lovely canter to the village and 
then the obligatory walk among the dogs, kids, and resting mothers. At 
that point, this ride looked like we were going to have a ball. Dory 
was really into it, I was really into it. This was great. Cross the 
road, over the bridge and down a dirt road where the dredge had been 
piling canal mud up on the edge of the canal. A pickup truck was 
approaching and we had a rather tight fit between the truck (which 
kindly stopped) and the canal. But we passed. Score another one for  
our team.

The next stretch of trail was really dark and Dory saw the donkeys and 
the fully laden cart before I did. But she figured that a cart full of 
forage was just a meal delivery rather than an obstacle. The owner of 
the cart didn't see it the same way so I edged her around to pass. 
Another road to cross and things started to get interesting as we 
jetted on down a dirt road at Dory's weird not-quite-trot that flies 
along. I suspect that it's some other "gait" but no one here has the 
slightest idea how to tell me what. I do love it though.

We cut a right at an intersection onto a road that would narrow into a 
trail along a minor canal and then widen into a dirt road again. I 
figured that we'd take that and then loop home. The first thing that we 
saw were a group of men and boys fishing with blue/purple 
glow-in-the-dark bobbers in the canal. Neither of us had ever seen 
anything like it and Dory was fascinated by these glowing lights flying 
around in the air as they cast out into the canal. But there was a look 
and a snort, but no spook.  The road ahead was crowded with trucks and 
cars, so one of the villas that we passed just before the trail 
narrowed was having a party or something. This turned out to be A Very 
Good Thing.

On we cruised, to the trail, only to find that someone had planted corn 
right to the edge of the canal and our trail was nowhere to be 
seen...not that seeing a trail in a cornfield in the dark is a high 
probability anyway. Dory wisely decided that this was not the right 
direction and turned away from the canal to do one of her tiny turns 
when the bank of the canal, which had been undercut by the dredge, gave 
way under her hindquarters. I jumped off on her left to allow her the 
freedom to clamber up to safety, figuring that I'd land on dirt, but 
the same undercut bank got me and I landed up to my armpits in the 
canal.

Now there are canals and canals.  I've seen clean canals with sandy 
bottoms and then there are Nile Valley canals. My first thought (after 
relief that Dorika wasn't in the water with me) was "Thank God it's 
night and I can't see anything in the water" because canals here can 
contain such enticing objects as dead animals along with the usual 
fish, crayfish, and schistosomiasis flukes....not to mention the 
chemical run off from fields. But then I began to consider just how I 
would get out. There were no bushes along the bank, not even any sturdy 
grass to grab and pull and no slope since the dredge had undercut the 
bank. I looked about 50 feet or so down the path back to the villa with 
the party and saw some people coming out to the trucks. So I started 
yelling in Arabic the usual sorts of things that one would say to 
entice someone to pull one out of a stinking canal.  Actually it was 
pretty full, which cuts down a lot on the odorous attributes.

I shouted for what seemed like ages with no one responding or seeming 
to hear me. Dory was standing next to the canal waiting patiently for 
me to come to my senses and emerge from the waters like Aphrodite, but 
she wasn't even close enough that I could try to pull myself out by 
hanging on to one of her legs. If she had been, I might have tried it 
as I'm pretty sure that she'd have stood still for me. Instead she 
ambled down to the trucks and just stood there under a gate light in 
her saddle and bridle waiting for someone to notice her and realise 
that there should be a rider somewhere close, which, ilhamdulilah, they 
finally did. One last shout and some of the men came running, grabbed 
my hands and hauled me up on dry land.

Once I was on my feet, the people offered me a hot drink (when it's 30 
degrees out?), a shower (what was the point since I still had to get 
home?) and all sorts of help.  I declined all offers leaving them 
convinced that I was utterly mad, hopped on my mare and high-tailed it 
for home. Riding in wet pants, boots, and half-chaps leaves a lot to be 
desired, even in our climate and I was so glad to get back to the 
paddocks. We hosed down Dory's muddy legs to check for scratches and 
cuts, thankfully finding none, and I headed home for a hot shower and a 
change of clothes. The water in the shower ran black, and that was 
AFTER I'd removed the clothes and boots.  The next step was a 
prophylactic dose of praziquantel to kill anything that I might have 
picked up while investigating the irrigation ditch.

Today I'm feeling rather stiff due to banging on the bank as I fell 
into the water and being dragged willy-nilly out on the dirt by my 
saviours, and Dory took the day off to relax too. I have no idea 
whether she would have continued down the road to home if the people 
hadn't seen her (she's gone home from places before but never if 
there's been an accident), but I like to think that she orchestrated my 
rescue.  Okay, so I'm grateful that she decided to go home in a 
direction where there were people at least.

Now I'm curtailing any canal-side trails at night an sticking to the 
nice wide dirt roads where I can be relatively sure that I will stay on 
dry land. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Maryanne Stroud Gabbani
Cairo, Egypt
www.alsorat.com

"The trail is the thing, not the end of the trail. Travel too fast and 
you miss all you are traveling for"  Louis L'Amour


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