Provo and I run with the big kids - Comstock 50

[Lucy Chaplin Trumbull <elsie@calweb.com>]

Well, you remember how, after our first 30 miler at Gold 
Country last weekend, I said I'd wait until next Spring to 
try a 50? I lied. 

More lengthy tale follows. Delete now if you can't stomach 
another one from me <g>.

Provo was in such good shape after 30 miles (read: didn't
actually notice he'd done anything), that I decided to keep
the ball rolling and packed us up and took us over the 
mountains to Nevada to do the Comstock ride this last weekend.

The main driving force behind this decision, was the lure
that I could ride with Karen Chaton and Weaver. This was to
be Weaver's 1000th mile in competition this year, and Karen
wanted to ride the 50 reeeeallllyy slooooowly, just to 
make sure nothing untoward would happen along the way. As 
a result, I knew that this might be the only chance I ever 
got to ride with her and Weaver (well, certainly for a few 
years, anyway ;-), so I ought to go for it while I could.

She'd told me that it was an easy ride and that we'd be fine
to do it. And she was right.

This time I couldn't persuade Patrick to come with me - there's
only so much enthusiasm one can drum up for standing around
in the cold for hours on end, waiting for me and the pony to 
reappear; but he says he'll come on other, warmer, more 
interesting rides. No surprises there. Although I really
can't understand it myself. Standing in the NV wind...in the
drizzle...waiting...what could be more fun?

So we went on our own. It took us about 2 and 3/4 hours to get 
over to Reno - it's a straight freeway drive, except that we 
go up over Donner Pass (7300 ft) to get there. The drive is 
just beautiful (I'm sure Provo thought so) and it was nice and 
sunny. Hah.

Once at the ridecamp (Lemmon Valley horseman's arena just 
north of Reno), we squeezed in next to Karen and Dave's palatial 
trailer, where Weaver was already happily ensconced in his corral.
Provo got to be tied to the trailer, with a hay bag, so he
didn't care.

They told me that it wasn't really windy, not by NV standards,
anyway. Only when it goes up over 40mph are you allowed to
call it windy. I wiped the grit out of my eyes for the 
fifty-eighth time.

I slept in the truck cab, which is actually more comfy than it 
sounds. About 5:45 I had this wonderful dream that it was
really 3am and not time to get up for hours...and then Karen
woke me up.

There was ice on the windscreen and a nice frosting on all my
people-stuff in the truck bed. And I forgot to take along a 
stirring stick for Provo's beetpulp/COB mix. 

Hint #1: when in NV, always assume you will *not* want to hand 
mix beetpulp and freezing water. If you do, your hands will not
warm up for hours.

Thought #1: Buy a huge water cooler and fill it up with roasting
water the day before, so that any water dispensed will at least
be lukewarm the following day.

I move very slowly in the mornings (read: disfunctional) - this 
is where the lack of "crew" (Patrick) *really* shows up, and 
despite the coffee laid on by ride management, I still wasn't 
really with it. So I was kind of late... the ride started at 7:30, 
and by 7:15, all Provo had on was a pair of interference boots
(I, on the other hand, had managed to swallow a whole half
banana! Major achievement).

And then the late arrivals started arriving in trailers. Provo 
thought that most interesting, "Look Mum, lots of exciting things 
happening!" and he started to do his "thing" - where he turns back 
and forth, back and forth, making it virtually impossible to put
any tack on him. We finally struggled into his clothes, and I
hand-scurried him, following Karen calmly mounted on Weaver, to
the start line. Provo was already jigging and I wasn't even on
him yet. Sigh.

So we walked out. After a few 100 yrds, Karen suggested that maybe
I could get on? I would have loved to, but as I explained to her,
the main problem was that I couldn't get him to stand still long
enough to get the cinch tight enough for me to attempt mounting.

Another 100 yrds passed and Karen suggested once again "how 'bout
getting on?" Nope. Still haven't got that cinch yet... sigh.
I'm sure she must have thought that we were going to hand-walk
(read: hand-leap-and-bound) the first five miles.

But eventually, after losing my temper with him (and getting his
attention for a split second), I managed to get it done and got
on. Off we went.

Normally we ride in the woods, so other horses disappear from sight
relatively quickly. But this was NV, where they stay within sight
for miles and miles. And Provo thought that was a fine thing.

"Look Mum, horses! [the front runners - several miles away]. 
We'd better catch them!"

Sigh.

So Weaver trotted happily and Provo cantered excitedly next to him,
but we kind of stayed under control. We even managed to walk a few
times, but it was kind of hard keeping him calm. Everytime we 
managed to get a little settled, some rider who'd left even later
than us would trot calmly past on their horse. And Provo would
renew his enthusiasm for conquering the world. So we'd trot (well,
Weaver would trot, Provo'd canter) along, trying not to catch up
with whoever had just passed us.

About three miles in, I began to wish for painkillers... neatly
stashed in my Camelbak... on my back... completely out of reach when 
you need two hands to ride the horse (I had decided they were better 
stashed on me, than on the horse, for when I fell off and broke
my leg and Provo ran off without me. Patrick tells me that if
I fell off and broke my leg, painkillers wouldn't be much help).

Thought #2: Next time, take two lots of pain killers - stash one
set in Camelbak *and* the other in the pommel bag within easy reach.

Karen dredged up an Arudis (don't know what those are, but it
was blue, and only a bit crumbled around the edges, and didn't
have much fluff on it) which I gobbled down, thinking to myself
that things were going badly if I was already on the painkillers
by mile three...

We came to a water trough. It was kind of boggy around the trough
and there were two riders hogging the non-boggy side. Neither of
their horses was drinking, or showing signs of being interested
in drinking. But they seemed to be happily resting there. The
woman announced that her horse never drank until it was thirsty.
Karen and I wondered why they didn't move out the way, then?

Eventually they left and our horses got to sip a little water. 
Miraculously, Provo didn't seem to think he had to leave with them.

Karen had been riding with her heart monitor - but was happy with
the way Weaver was moving out (trotting along at 82 bpm to our
canter), so she hopped off and rigged it up on us. Now that was
interesting - I've never ridden with a heart monitor before, so
it was fascinating to see what Provo was actually doing when he
was leaping about. It demonstrates how unsettled he really was,
with the rate moving around wildly, until later in the ride, when
he began to settle and everything got more consistent. I was super
happy to see him trotting at 85 by about mile 47. Perhaps he'd 
finally figured it out...? 

We went up a hill. It got windier. Clouds came. It began to drizzle.
Karen was the one who graciously hopped off and opened gates when
we came to cattle grids (probably thought if she let me get off
and open them, she'd have to wait endlessly for me to haul myself
back on again... and Provo's only 14:3... he just feels tall).

We went down the hill and stretched in front of us was a big plain.
We could see some horses miles in front of us, and when we got to
the bottom, the footing was so nice, we cantered across most of it
(this was once we'd had a carrot break, and I got to eat some fluffy
Cliff bar I found in my pocket. Didn't fancy all of it, so I offered
it to Provo. He slurped on it, but didn't want it either). And we
finally came to the half way mark - a man with a water trough, and
melon and muffins. I got to watch the heart rate monitor and see
Provo come down within minutes. The ponies slurped. Lucy munched 
a whole piece of melon. Karen managed to narrowly miss dropping 
her helmet in the trough (how we would have laughed... not) and 
off we set again.

By this time the weather was nasty. I had an uneasy feeling that
we were supposed to go up over some of the mountains ahead of us,
but at the last minute the trail took a turn, and instead we
found ourselves on a very dull, straight, dirt road. We must
have stayed on this road for miles and miles (or so it seemed).
It was pretty dull. Hard enough that it was not too comfortable
to trot on. It went up a hill, and then, even more dull, went
down a really looooong hill. Not very steep, but even harder
footing and *really* uncomfortable to trot on. So we got off 
and walked down it. I saw a dead snake (highlight of that portion
of the trail - just to show you how dull it was).

Then we were back in the valley again, back on the nice sandy
soft, but not deep, footing, and off we went. Karen put Weaver
on his rope halter, and we scootled along. Weaver rewarded her 
by spooking at gates, and trail marker ribbons, and yellow flowers. 
Provo dutifully spooked too, not knowing why, but I'd told him to 
learn from Weaver-the-wise-one ..."do as he does, Provo..." 
Spook, lurch, canter, canter, spook, lurch, canter, canter...

Back at camp for the hour lunch hold, Mr vet complimented me
on Provo's state of wellbeing and gave him a bunch of AAAs. I 
was super proud of him. He'd settled. He'd trotted. He'd P&Red
nicely. He hadn't stood on anyone.

After lunch, we set out the same way as at the start. I led
Provo along - this time him ambling along contentedly, until
we got to the gate and then he stopped dead, as if to say:
"er... I thought we were done... just going for a walk around...
er... didn't we do this already today?"

But he perked up and we trundled along. I still haven't decided
if he just needs to develop more trotting muscles, or whether
he just likes to canter, but he'll happily canter next to Weaver-
at-a-trot. As he gets a little tired, he starts thinking about
trotting more, but seems most comfortable, at this point, 
cantering. 

We walked some and chatted with some other people on the trail.
We got our photo taken (yay), and then we went up on a ridge.
It was quite glorious. Whoever said NV rides are flat and dull,
this one wasn't. We could see pink NV mountains for miles and 
miles all around us. We were looking down on Reno valley spread
out before us. Wonderful stuff.

And then we fell off the edge of the ridge. I now see one of 
the reasons Weaver does so well - he's really good at downhill
stuff. This was very steep and rocky. Provo decided this was
a good place to pee (sigh), so I took the opportunity to get
off and followed him down the mountain - I wasn't too comfortable
leading him in front. Tailing reins are good. 

At the bottom, I scrabbled back on again, and we set off in a
sand wash in the deep V of two mountains. It was twisty and
fun. And I was glad Weaver was in front, demonstrating that
horses can go this speed over that type of terrain.

Thought #3: we need to do *lots* more work trotting downhill
and negotiating bad footing. Without this skill, it'll be
impossible to finish a 50 under time, if it's the type of
hilly ride I hope to be doing in the future.

Eventually we came to the halfway mark - a trough with no water
in it. This was kind of sad, and a problem, Karen tells me, if
you're riding at the back of the pack. The ponies squabbled over
the last dribble in the bottom of the trough and we sadly left the
trough behind. What we didn't realise until we got to it, was that 
200 yrds down the trail was a lake-sized puddle. The ponies perked 
right up and drank deeply. 

Weaver had been munching almost the whole time we were on the
trail, but Provo hadn't figured out that that brown stuff was
worth bothering with. As far as we could tell, Weaver thought
we were doing a 100 - what with us riding so slowly - so was
settling in for the duration and snacking at every opportunity.

We were four miles from the second vet check, and back down on
the flat, soft footing, so we scootled across the plain, with
the wind whistling and tearing my eyes. I don't know how long
it took us, but it seemed to over with in a flash. And we were
at the check. There was a sign a quarter mile out, so we were
off and walking, and they were down by the time we got there. 
Again we vetted through with lots of AAAs, but one B- on hydration 
- hardly surprising, when the only water we'd seen on this 20 mile 
loop had been 3-4 miles before. But the ponies drank well, and we 
settled in for 20 minutes while they feasted on a bale of hay 
provided by the management. The sun shone. And I got to eat
a bag of crisps (potato chips, for you Americans) and a peanut 
butter and jelly sandwich provided by ride management. 

It was good.

And then off we went again for the final four miles. I was
kind of convinced that we were going to trip and do a face
plant and ruin everything, but instead the miles just zoomed 
by - I couldn't believe how good Provo felt (still cantering 
and trotting cheerily) and even more amazing, how good I felt. 
I was tired, my knees were sore, and my back was well-pulled 
from Provo's antics in the morning, but I could have still 
gone another five miles by the time we reached the finish... 
and then maybe another five miles after that (yes, Lucy, and 
how exactly would you have been able to walk the next week?).

We even overtook two horses just before the finish... those
same people who'd been hogging the trough at the beginning
of the ride.

Karen's husband was at the finish with blankets for us, and
we got to remove tack and dump it in the back of their truck.
He's a most excellent crew person - please remember to thank
him for me, Karen, for getting me water in my big bucket,
and waiting endlessly for us with the blankets.

Again, we vetted through excellently. More AAAs (can you believe
it?), but with a B on gut sounds... really have to explain to 
Provo about NV desert grass. I was soooo proud of him. Such
a good mellow pony (compared to the crazed beast I'd started
out on). He got to go back to his "space" and eat to his 
heart's content and dose in the sunshine.

An excellent ride. Now I can put him away for the winter (not
really) and plan our strategy... actually, now I have a good
idea about what we have to work on, and continue to work abit
on our speed. It felt like we were racing the whole day, but 
we actually completed with a ride time of about 8:10, which 
isn't going to be much good if we're riding on anything that 
isn't flat good footing, as most of this ride was.

Many thanks to the ride people for providing munchies before,
during, and after the ride.

-- 
**************************************************************
Lucy Chaplin Trumbull - elsie@calweb.com
Repotted english person in Sacramento, CA 
http://www.calweb.com/~elsie

with Mouse and Provo
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