Monday, August 26, 2024

The Tell-Tale Heart

 Whomever wrote (paraphrased) that “being a mother is like having your heart walking around outside your body” was absolutely correct, even though I thought it was a cheesy sentiment at the time. Of course, I feel much the same about my non-human children, but everything is accentuated with Zach…

Zach called me over his lunch break Friday - fortunately, I could “lend an ear” to him for a while as he vented about his relationship troubles**. I have noticed this distinct imbalance from the start - of course, it made sense when Zach was “merely” a student that he did most of the cooking and all of the cleaning & laundry, but now that he is a full-time member of the workforce also, this dynamic needs to be re-balanced. (Before Victoria moved in with Zach, she lived with her grandparents where Adela waited on her hand & foot

** I wasn’t about to overstate my case! - all I told Zach was that I perceive Victoria to be fairly self-centered; “my” truth of the matter is that I think she’s a spoilt little princess and I am amazed in one sense that my son fell in love with such a high-maintenance person. I thought sons were supposed to select someone more similar to their mother? I also only admit here to my annoyance about him ceding the car to her - I bought the Lexus 13 months before he actually graduated as an incentive/reward/early graduation gift for Zach, yet Victoria seems to constantly be behind that wheel, leaving Zach to continue to drive his grandfather’s old Impala (which is still a good vehicle by the way).

I asked Zach to come by after work yesterday to help Peran & I get the furniture rearranged - the old couch went out on the porch and my aunt’s sofa took its place in the living room. I obviously saw it through a veil of nostalgia last weekend, because it’s had its share of wear & tear too, but it’s still in better shape than the green couch! I almost titled this “you can’t go home again” since  I don’t remember how many months it’s been since Zach has been out to the farm?  But he admired Athena & Aphrodite - told me her enclosure was too small,  which is the truth of course! & handled hissy-faced Claude a bit - I took some photos to commemorate which I will have to download later. Victoria called him three times over the course of the approximate 90 minutes he was here, so he rushed off in short order. She keeps my boy on a very short leash.





Thursday, August 22, 2024

Venus of Bristol

 The month that I spent having to use the upstairs bathroom for showering as Peran retiled the master bath should’ve been great for my motivation - stepping out, there is a full-length mirror from which I generally tried to avert my eyes. My silhouette bears a strong resemblance to the Venus of Willendorf, the hell with body positivity! Even more distressing than my physical appearance is my decrepitude - I’ve just barely started this series of acupuncture treatments, and while they seem to give me a temporary boost, it certainly hasn’t given me the energy to go out, for instance, and hit the gym. Even hard-core Peran is getting in only a quick walk in the mornings before things heat up too much…

https://artincontext.org/venus-of-willendorf/

In other news, while the Colorado buyer had a change of heart about Big Bertha, he IS seriously interested in the surgery trailer - this expedites our efforts to finish the remodeling of my surgical suite in the building and get moved out of it! Kristy got her mom settled in with home hospice care - thankfully in her mom’s home, not her own - which I think would’ve been a grave error in her small house with 2 young children. No doubt she will continue to be stretched thin, but hopefully this will bring the revolving door of ER visits to a close. I am having to psych myself up each & every time I visit my mom’s facility - I too have such limited time and energy… my friends are posting beautiful photos from the Colorado ride this week, but who am I kidding? that’s a hell of a long haul to knock off a 12-15 mile intro ride.

I’ve got to concentrate on my immediate sphere of influence - finishing the clinic remodel, getting the surplus equipment sold, and trying to replenish my retirement account/decimated savings. Peran has consented to go back to Bonham to get my aunt’s couch this Sunday, so my great expedition will be to the local nature park to ride with the crew Saturday. Sam should be back from India where he was getting his elderly mother settled into hospice care also. Being a member of the sandwich generation is no fun, as much as I like Oreos!

Tuesday, August 20, 2024

The Buzzard’s Roost

 Periodically, I’m just gonna have “one of those nights”, when my anxieties have boiled up to a minor peak, and all of those evil buzzards come home to figuratively roost over my head. A technique I read of years ago involved telling oneself sternly “Stop!” when intrusive thoughts were keeping one awake, but this didn’t work Sunday night…

And just think - this was triggered by the welcome news that I may have a buyer for the mobile unit! (Buzzkill: all of this may have been for naught, as he should have made his downpayment yesterday which never appeared**) I am tired of treading water, ready to go ahead & take my licks by accepting a lowball offer - I am neither a horse trader nor a used-car salesman. I have rationalized this loss by telling myself that I would’ve had to pay rent on any other space we needed to work out of during remodeling: “the cost of doing business”. The overall market has taken a downturn in real estate and vehicles and I am no Svengali, I’m just a simple animal doctor!

** hopefully the guy has just hit a minor delay, as I have on many occasions trying to dig out from my vendors debt!

So at 3 AM Monday morning, I was wide awake, running down the list of disclosures I need to make - minor repairs that Bertha needs: the backup camera, the fan switch, the leak in the water tank for which I couldn’t track down a replacement… As well as all the ordinary roadworthy checks - the tires, the fluid levels, belts & hoses, etc. Misti & I had an uneventful road trip, driving back from Pensacola and I would hope this Colorado buyer would do the same - of course shit can always happen and that’s where Caveat Emptor, an “As Is” sale on this 20-yr old vehicle comes into play. (Print out necessary sales paperwork to make this clear)

It was really stupid to lay awake fretting about this, but I dragged myself out of bed yesterday and got my job done - my veterinary job, that is! Unfortunately I did not hear from the buyer, maybe today? (Fingers crossed) Thankfully I got a decent night’s rest last night, so today should be less tedious.

In other news, my cousin’s eldest son (51) will be returning to Texas next month with his tail tucked between his legs - he has also been job hunting for 18 months without success. He and his wife will take up occupancy in his parent’s home while his younger brother offers him office space in an outbuilding which used to house my cousin Steve’s model trains. Peran & I are going back this weekend to claim my aunt’s couch, which I’ve joked doesn’t quite fit my color scheme but it’s in much better shape than our weatherbeaten old sofa! “Beggars can’t be choosers” - we need a new sofa, but after spending $1100 a couple of months ago on the new washing machine, I don’t want to put any more on ye olde credit cards. Talk about financial stress!

                                         Lucius looks quite proud of his handiwork, don't he??
The only structure remaining from my cousin's dairy farm is this grain silo

                         This is the New View from where the hay barn once stood (new boat ramp)
              Only the majestic pecan trees remain which formerly flanked my cousin's house

Thursday, August 15, 2024

The Bell Jar

 … was a very influential novel on my young impressionable self, with its portrayal of a young woman “going down for the count“. Snippets float through my consciousness as I dog-paddle to keep my nose above water. My financial situation has improved but remains tenuous; I desperately need to sell the mobile unit & finish the remodeling of my surgical suite so we can move out of the surgery trailer and I can sell that piece of equipment also… Nevertheless, it’s gonna take years for me to rebuild my devastated retirement account.

And yet here I sit, fretting about weekend plans** and the handful of rides I plan on hauling away to this fall.

** I am meeting another cousin at my aunt’s house on Saturday to retrieve a truckload of her big ceramic planters and complete my nostalgic farewells. Hopefully we’ll have time to drive out to the new lake and see the renewed landscape - The only landmark remaining from my cousin’s dairy farm is the old silo.

I want to transcribe some more complicated family history, but I need to get sympathy cards in the mail to my cousin Denise’s daughters on the loss of their father. I’m debating whether to address one to Denise herself, but I may just make that a generic “Thinking of You” card. Maybe I’m hopelessly old-fashioned, but I still appreciate getting cards in the mail. This also reminds me to write my overdue pen-pal Leslie!

I mailed Katie (my brother-in-law’s widow) one of my precious few Z graduation announcements about a month ago with a short note, giving her my email address since that is vastly preferable to Royal Mail, but have not heard anything from her. I cannot take these things personally as I know full well “we are all busy”.

Tomorrow will mark 1 week of Sam’s return to India to sort out care for his elderly mother. (He had texted me upon arrival as he was waiting for his brother-in-law to pick him up at the airport)  God help me, I must get my own showered today - breaking out the air freshener & Vick Salve! And a Costco run for her hygiene supplies…

“I saw the days of the year stretching ahead like a series of bright, white boxes, and separating one box from another was sleep, like a black shade. Only for me, the long perspective of shades that set off one box from the next day had suddenly snapped up, and I could see day after day after day glaring ahead of me like a white, broad, infinitely desolate avenue.” 
― Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar



Sunday, August 11, 2024

The Ides of August

 (I realize it’s only the 11th, but the ominous foreboding fits my mood)

Why shouldn’t I be thrilled to death? Zach successfully completed his 14-d forced march at the lab, tired & sleep-deprived but otherwise none the worse for wear. He was disappointed that taxes & withholding took a disproportionate chunk out of that overtime - sorry son!

Apparently my link to top-secret blog may be faulty, so I’ll just paste in last week’s entry:

Tuesday, July 30, 2024

The Finish Line

 Whelp who'd have thunk it?? You got your boy through college as he now enters Month 2 of Gainful Employment with the City of Dallas (so far so good as I still can't completely relax - ask me in another 6 mos!)... The oddest of co-inky-dinks considering his father was working for Dallas County decades ago when we first met.

But apparently the New Rules are:

1.) I'm not invited over unless Victoria is working

2.) Lunch or dinner are off the table unless it's a Very Special Occasion (which is a damn shame, considering how most of your life these days seems to revolve around your next meal!) Your own re-edumacation is definitely in order; it’s downright sad and pitiable to live this way.

3.) Phone calls are definitely rationed - whereas Z used to call me almost every day, now I’m lucky to get an unsolicited call twice a week, maybe? (I realize it’s only Tuesday - 3 more days left in this week! - but Zach has called me Friday & Monday, and Friday didn’t really count because he was calling to get payment through for his coworker)

Withdrawal is hard; the process is as painful as any other addiction. I know I must release my arrow & let him fly where he may… And hopefully he will carry on long after I am gone - my legacy

******************************************************************

My cousin’s ex-husband passed away rather suddenly (age 66 which sounds younger Every. Damn. Day) so I went by the visitation this afternoon to show my support for his young adult daughters. It was a good excuse to see my cousins as we haven’t had any significant family social events since Covid. Life gets busy, etc, etc - I wasn’t sure if Denise herself was going (I started to text her but I figured she had enough on her plate - if she was there, I’d see her! & she was) Turns out they were on vacation, so she had to cut things short & drive back.
If I’m lucky enough to outlive my ex, I will probably attend his funeral in pure support of my son (not to mention it would drive his widow CrAzY!). Maybe there’s my goal to shoot for?!?

(Photos still won’t load so I’ll have to put some pictures from yesterday‘s trail ride up tomorrow)

And here’s one last Tevis tale - from a non-finisher who made it exactly as far as I did in my attempt Way Back When in Y2K:

I apologize that this post has taken so long to appear, but Tevis  was, for me, an overwhelming experience. The people involved were simply wonderful. I don’t think I met a single soul who wasn’t kind, helpful, and happy to be there. experienced riders went out of their way to give me their best advice. Non-riders who are simply fans of my book recognized Shiloh across the fairgrounds and on the trail, shouting out greetings, comments on his beauty, and well wishes for our ride. It was amazing.


We settled Shiloh into his stall on the fairgrounds on Monday,  then spent a few days scouting out Robinson flat, Forest Hill, and Robie park. I rode the trail down to the river while searching for No Hands bridge before Jonni Jewell took me in hand and showed me the correct path. On Friday morning we headed for RobiePark. After setting up camp I took Shiloh out on the beginnings of the trail for a quick tack check ride.  It was emotional, seeing the sign that says Tevis start, and the view across the valley towards Watsons monument, especially since I knew it would be dark when next I saw that spot again.  Until that moment, I don’t think it felt real.


The rest of Friday was taken up with rider check in, initial vet in, a bit of shopping, crew meeting, first time rider meeting, dinner, and the ride meeting itself.  It was surreal, like stepping into my computer, to be in Robie Park the day before Tevis, where I had so often dreamed of, but only watched electronically.  We were now a part of it.  The dreamlike quality was only enhanced by seeing a sleek, confident, black bear, and her three cubs strolling leisurely through camp.


After an near sleepless night, the alarm at 3 AM, was something of a relief. Tacking up took a little longer than usual because of the requirements for the tracker to be placed in a spot open to the sky, and the number tag to be placed in a spot visible from a far on the left side but we finally got it figured out and I met Jonni for the walk to pen two.  After walking Shiloh around a few minutes, I found a quiet spot and took the time to savor the moment , feeling immense gratitude for the many people, and the wonderful horse that were allowing me to have this experience. Shiloh was so amped up by the darkness and horses that he actually fell asleep.


The word came down to move out, and we joined the line, headed for the Tevis start. I had worried that Shiloh would find the walking speed of the Arabians too slow, but he seemed willing to simply move with the herd. And then we were off, surrounded by trotting Arabians Shiloh and I simply moved along at the speed of the pack, but as they began to thin out, Jonni took the lead to show me the pace that her calculations had shown that we needed to maintain to make the cut offs. It was a good thing that she did so, for I had had no idea tha you needed to move that quickly, that relentlessly, at the start of this ride.


Shiloh felt good, and was eager but his heart rate was higher than I would want, and I became a little worried about keeping up the pace. Trail is largely very rocky, ranging from hard pack, gravel road consistency to dusty trail that hides predator rocks waiting to pounce. We went through forests, crosssed The highway, emerged above the old Olympic Village, and then climbed up under the ski lifts to Watson‘s monument.  This was the only place that Jonni let me stop to take a picture. Otherwise she was relentless. When I expressed concern about Shiloh’s ability to keep up the pace, she simply stated that without that pace, we would not finish.He drank well on the slopes of Squaw Valley, and recovered well at Watsons monument so I decided to ride the horse and not the heart rate.


It’s hard to adequately describe the beauty of the granite chief wilderness. The vista in the distance is rock, a harsh and savage land, but the area of the trail is alpine, covered in lush vegetation with Wildflowers tucked among gray and white rocks with a trickle of water making a lovely background melody.  It is also a vicious and unforgiving trail. The horses have to weave through rock beds where the rocks vary in size from golf balls to house sized and everything in between. In many spots, the vegetation completely covered the trail, making it impossible for Shiloh to see where to place his feet. The lovely trickling streams make many rocks incredibly slippery, and other spots are boggy. It’s no more tricky than many of the trails Shiloh and I have done at the big South Fork but in Tennessee I can slow down for them. Here they had to be taken, mostly at a fast rack.  At one point the trail made a fairly sharp right turn and Shiloh placed both his left feet on what turned out to be a slippery flat rock. Both feet slid to the left and for a moment I thought we would go down.  Shiloh twisted and recovered, keeping us both upright, but the movement required wrenched his back.


Up to that point, he had been moving out easily, and in good form, rounding his back and using his haunches to absorb the jarring motion of speed on down hills. Over the next miles however, he became more and more reluctant to round.  Even so when we reached cougar rock, he was still doing well. We headed towards the rock, and I simply told him “go for it. You were made for this! “ the volunteers at the rock, give you directions, because it is not clear where the best path to the top lies. Stick to the left in the beginning, and then turn right. Shiloh never lost his momentum and climbed that rock like a boss.  I have never been so proud of a horse.


At the first vet, check, a gate and go, Shiloh took a bit longer than I would like to pause down. At the time I attributed it to the heat, and the speed at which we had been going, but I’m now beginning to wonder if it was the pain in his back.  Jonni was kind enough to wait for me, but as we rode on, we both agreed that I should slow down and she should go ahead. After her kindness, I did not want to be the reason if she were overtime. So Shiloh and I found ourselves still moving fairly quickly but now alone.


We reached Robinson flat, and met up with the crew who were simply superb. They met us down the road and immediately began using the hand, held shower to pour cool water on Shiloh. When I dismounted at the trough, they quickly untacked and continued to spray water on him until he reached the pulse criteria and we could go to the vet. He looked good at the vet, alert happy to move out, decent scores for this part of the ride, but then his CRI was 60/72. The vet asked us to come back in 50 minutes for a recheck.


During the hold, Shiloh appreciated the shady spot the crew had found to set up our temporary camp. He had soaked alfalfa and mash, clear water, and brine and he took full advantage of all of it. Jo massaged his hind quarters, Lori showered him with cool water and Jonni sent over a member of her crew with handfuls of ice to help him cool down. I was told in no uncertain terms, to sit down, drink Gatorade, and eat a sandwich. I also planned to change here from my warmer longsleeved T-shirt to a high tech cooling, sunscreen shirt, in preparation for the heat of the canyons.  I just didn’t feel like walking all the way to the bathrooms to change, however, so I decided that wearing a sports bra constituted being decent, and I simply changed my shirt in my chair where I sat.  Now I know how many photographers were around. I find myself most grateful that there are no pictures on the Internet that I can find of my doing so.


Thanks to the good care from my crew Shiloh’s CRI was 40 and 44 when we went back to the vet.  We left Robinson flat exactly on time and only a few moments behind Jonni. The next 10 miles are not particularly difficult trail, but they are hard packed, are often gravel roads, and have minimal shade.  Much of it is downhill, and Shiloh‘s reluctance to round his back became more and more of an issue. Eventually, I could feel him stabbing his back feet into the ground instead of allowing his hind quarters to absorb the shocks of each step. This is a direct result of a flat stiff back and I became more and more worried. He continued to drink well but by mile 45 I knew that I would pull at last chance.


The last 5 miles are the trail to and around pucker point. It’s a beautiful single track trail under tall trees that comes out on the edge of a cliff with a 350 to 400 foot drop to the American river on your right and steep hillside on the left. The views are spectacular and by this time in the ride I had done so much stuff that scared the spit out of me that pucker point was no problem at all. Indeed, I slowed down knowing that time did not matter when I would be pulling soon and planned to get some video of us going around poker point. I got a little bit of video leading up to it, but my phone died before the actual pucker point.  Sorry about that guys.


At one spot Shiloh and I came up on a woman with her mare pulled over slightly to the side of the trail. She was attempting to place a hoof boot but her horse was most anxious because their companions had moved on. I put Shiloh in front of her and offered to stay and keep them company until she was able to move on. That allowed her horse to feel comforted and stay still. Once she remounted, I moved over to let her pass, but her horse refused to leave Shiloh. I explained that I had given up, but would attempt to pick up my speed to see to it, that she reached last chance before the cut off and we moved out together. After a mile or two, her horse was willing to lead instead of follow, and I slowly fell back until she was out of sight.


That lady is the only reason Shiloh and I reached last chance before the cut off. But I still knew that I did not  need to take an injured Shiloh into the canyons. He pulsed down at last chance quite quickly, and we went to the vet where I explained that he did not feel right and I would be pulling. After close examination, Vet felt that he could go on. His gait was even, his CRI good, his back only slightly tender to palpation, and his hydration indicators were all within parameters as fit to continue. It didn’t matter. I know that I cannot walk the canyons, that our well-being is entirely dependent upon Shiloh’s strength, and that that strength was compromised.


We saw the treatment vet, a requirement if you are pulling, even if the other vet thinks your horse is fine, and she explained that we would be trailered out but that there were seven horses requiring a trailer ride and Shiloh was the one in the best shape so he would, of course be going to last . I understood. Shiloh found the waiting incredibly easy.  He was being enthusiastically, cared for by a group of 10 to 12 year old girls who saw to it that he had an endless supply of mash, alfalfa, water, carrots, apples, watermelon, and petting.  This was surely horse heaven. I sat on a bale of alfalfa and cried.  Just because I knew it was the right thing to do didn’t make the giving up any easier.


We actually didn’t have to be the last people out of last chance. There was a horse who would not load, and they finally looked at me and asked if Shiloh would. Of course he would. And we began the four hour 40 mile trip to Forest Hill. On arriving in Forest Hill we were greeted by my entire crew who had gathered there. It turns out they had spent some hours thinking that Shiloh and I might be the pair who had gotten in to so much trouble in the canyons. The hours that I spent feeling sorry for myself they had spent thinking Shiloh and I might be dead, and next to their obvious distress, my own disappointment seemed quite petty.


In Forest Hills, Shiloh was required to see another treatment vet and get a final clearance to go back to his stall in the fairgrounds. I have to say the dedication of the vets to seeing that every horse is cared for, that no horse slips through the cracks, was very impressive. After waiting a while for some of the rigs around ours to clear out, we once again found ourselves on the road to Auburn, where Shiloh got his comfy stall, clean water, abundant alfalfa, and a chance to rest.


Tevis was an amazing experience. Just to ride that trail, with all the history, both the history of the California gold rush and the history of the sport of endurance, was quite a privilege. The effort that Shiloh put into this, the care he took with me, fills my heart. My crew was nothing short of amazing. Six women and my brother, who didn’t know each other and barely knew me before this experience became friends. The volunteers of Tevis are nothing short of miraculous. There seemed to be nothing I could ask for that they did not have for both Shiloh and myself. I think I could’ve asked for a chocolate malt and someone would’ve found it


If you ever think you might like to do Tevis, I strongly recommend it. It was a life-changing experience. That said, I do not believe that I will try again. I would love to experience that trail at a pace where I could enjoy it. I would love to experience that trail, when I did not feel that speed was of the essence. I am very glad I tried, but far less concerned that I did not complete than I would’ve thought that I would be. I had a wonderful experience that I got to share with the worlds greatest horse.  I got a cougar rock picture. I met great people. A buckle would’ve probably been too much icing on the cake for this old woman. 


Wednesday, August 7, 2024

Day 10

 Zach is working through a 14-day stretch as he trains on all the equipment so he can take over weekend shifts at the lab; today is Day 10 for him. All is well, but Mama can’t help worrying as he is still trying to sort out the best sleep schedule for himself. But hell, that’s been a struggle all his life as my poor boy’s sleep was always disrupted with the damnable visitation schedule: it would seem as if I barely got him rested up & in a good routine, then he’d have to go to his father’s again - coming home exhausted & stressed… as much as I miss my precious little boy, I would NEVER want to go back to those times!

I continue to slowly work my way through “Six Feet Under”, an excellent distraction for me. Ruth, the matriarch, made an excellent mini-speech about the hardest thing being watching your children grow up and leave you, which gave me a lot more sympathy for her as a character. But I am ready for Nate, the eldest son, to go ahead and die; I am tired of his idiotic episodes of animal cruelty. He smashed a harmless kingsnake in an early camping trip, then lost his shit on a hapless bird which had flown into their house - beating it to death with a broom! What a loser - I can watch all the examples of human death throughout the show, but as you can imagine, animal cruelty is my trigger.

Anyway I had started another blog during Zach’s tumultuous senior year - here’s my latest post which is pretty dark and cynical - “trigger warning”, I suppose!

https://ninemonthsncounting.blogspot.com/2024/07/the-finish-line.html

But I will dump some photos from last weekend’s trail ride from my work computer later… I’m glad I went - it was good to see everyone - Silas of course was The Best Boy & Baraq was happy to get shared billing!






Friday, August 2, 2024

Jonni’s Story

 And here is my friend Jonni’s account of her Tevis ride, wrapping up my week of reminiscence, bitter nostalgia, and current events. (Part 1 concerned the intricacies of her travel to get to California, which I will post if anyone is interested!) She has promised a postscript of “coming home” thoughts which I eagerly await (Jonni’s a good storyteller & a great writer) - now I’ve got to quit goofing around and go load up so I can make my own riding memories!

Tevis 2024, part 2, The ride:


After arriving at the fairgrounds, I got in a couple rides out to No Hands bridge and back, so if we were lucky enough to get that far, he would have seen that last section and hopefully know the way with a tired rider. He had his friend Henry [Gayle’s horse] staying in stall next to him, who he would stay with the night before the ride in camp. We did a ride to the bridge with Pam Reland’s beautiful Shiloh one day. Hondo liked him, and I asked if she would like to ride with us. Hondo could use a friend, and Pam was happy to ride with us, and I’d help her with the timing. Agreement in advance, if it did not work well, we would part ways, no hard feelings. 

Hondo was eating lots, drinking well at the fairgrounds, and looking as ready as he could be. He’s NOT an easy keeper, so I was happy with his enthusiasm for food. I was giving him loose salt in mouth once a day to encourage  extra drinking, and he would get a bucket of water with the “Gallaghers water” powder in it.  Friday morning, we loaded up, and headed to camp. I did high line where he could see Henry, and he was a Happy Hondo. Again, eating lots, drinking well. I held my breath on check in, with that previous lameness hanging in my thoughts. But he moved great, had a 36 pulse, and all A's on his vet card, with exception on B’s on lower quadrants of gut sounds, which is normal. We were good to go. But my mind was giving me many doubts on his fitness, as I had not gotten him out as much as I had wanted,  and my knees, that had been bugging me off and on for months, were really sore. But here  we were, and my gut over all was saying we could do it. 

The next morning, as I mounted up, and his friend Henry left, he did a bit of a jump, fuss, maneuver as I was mounting that startled me, and a few around us, but I stuck on, and we headed to the start with Pam and Shiloh. 

We walked to the official start in the darkness, deep in thought of what the day would bring. He was calm, and I was trying to be. We picked up the trot, and we crossed the official start line, and we were on our way. I always have my legs complain a little at the beginning of a ride as I start trotting. And this is a ride you trot a bunch in the beginning. Up hill, down hill, almost the whole way to the highway 89 crossing, which has the first live feed for those watching on line. I was already thinking about “why am I doing this? This is not fun right now! My legs /knees ache already!”. But I knew it would get better, it always does. This was my 7th time starting the ride, 6th from this camp. I know the timing, I know the speed to go, yet, when we got to the top at High Camp, I was feeling we were a bit behind on time, and I wasn’t sure why. We paused at Watsons monument, looked back over our shoulder to Lake Tahoe, and ahead to the vistas and valleys of the Sierra mountains, and somewhere, down there, was the finish line. I always get emotional at that spot on the trail. The high country was as beautiful as ever, I felt like we were making decent time, but at Lyon Ridge, I was about 15 min. behind where I wanted to be. And this was early in the ride!  Hondo had not been super attentive like I wanted, so I decided to pass on Cougar Rock this year. But I had put Pam up in front of me, and when we got to it, I told her to kick and go, and look up towards the top. Shiloh did spectacular, and I knew she would have some beautiful pictures. I then went around the bypass, and met back up with her.  At Red Star Ridge, we were still 15 min. behind my goal time. I hopped off, checked his pulse myself, let him drink, and went straight to the vet. He needed to be a 60 pulse, and was a 56. We arrived at 10:05, and were thru the vet at 10:12. Pams horse took a bit longer, so we waited. We did talk about it, and she understood if he was slower at other spots, and Hondo was quick, I’d go ahead and leave, as we were pressing time. 

We arrived at Robinson Flat at 11:41am, my goal had been closer to 11:00am. My crew put water on him, stripped his tack, and 3 min. later he was pulsed down in pulse box at 48 (60 was required) and when we got to the vet, his pulse was 44, and a 44 again for his CRI after the trot out. He commented he has only had a couple others that low. I held my breath as my crew trotted him out, and he was perfect! Whew.  After he ate everything in sight, we were off to the next stop, alone, as Pam was a bit behind our time. The road out of Robinsons Flat sucks. Its hard pack, getting warmer out, and Hondo could not see any other horses.  We finally got to the entrance to the Pucker Point trail. We both drank, looked at the time and realized we needed to push to make the 3PM cut off time.  The trail to Pucker Point has a lot of nice footing, straight aways, that have a drop on one side, but wide enough to move out well. So, we cantered those sections. I’d have never thought I’d have to canter on this ride for any reason, but we needed to MOVE. We got to Last Chance at 2:51, we were at vet at 2:58 with pulse of 60, and after he ate a bit, we were gone by 3:10. Now we had the first, and worst canyon ahead of us. The rocks seemed a tad more loose than in the past, and slipping more under the horses feet. Because of my bad knees, I don’t/can’t get off and lead downhill, but he was a rock start all the way down.  We got to the bridge, skipped the river, and went to the nice stream that was running well after you crossed the bridge. He drank, and I sponged him, to cool him down. Then we started the march to the top. We were with one other horse, who we followed awhile, but it kept stopping. I took the lead, and let Hondo set the pace. He marched to the top, and never asked to stop.  Most have heard about the different accidents on the ride. As we were almost to the top, one rider was off to the right in a clearing, with the horse untacked, and a volunteer was sponging the horse.  They were well off the trail. Up ahead, a dark horse was down in the middle of the trail, but it was where we could go around it in the brush. I wished the rider the best, and told her I was sorry her horse was having trouble.  More volunteers were coming down the trail to help out, and we reached the top at Devils Thumb, let Hondo drink, and headed on into the Deadwood Vet check a bit over a mile down the trail. Its usually a crowded vet check, and this year, a good number of horses were already there, cooling down, eating, and some had stripped tack to help cooldown. We arrived at 4:48, just making the 5PM cut off time. I checked his pulse, he was down, and at 4:52 we vetted thru with a pulse of 56. I then took him over to eat some mash and hay which he consumed with much enthusiasm. I rehydrated myself, and we were off to the next canyon. This canyon has more sections you can trot some, which we did. At one point, we passed Kaput spring, where it has made a few puddles in the trail, and he stepped in it, and his back legs sunk up to his hocks. He sprung out of it, thankfully unscathed.  We pushed on, and finally came to Michigan Bluff which is about 63 miles in. I skipped some crowded water troughs at the top of the climb, not wanting to burn up any time waiting to get him into one, and moved on down into the little town, where he had a trough to himself, and a volunteer cooling him down. No vet check here, but a tough one just a mile and a half up the trail. We were still feeling the pressure of being behind my own times I had set, so we did not spend much time there, and headed on to Chicken Hawk. It’s a big wide road, but a constant slight climb. We trotted and walked, and finally arrived at 7:12PM.  I have volunteered at this spot for years, and its quirky. A horse can arrive, meet criteria, then will spike a pulse, and have trouble coming back down. I tell people vet thru as soon as the meet criteria, THEN feed them etc.  My crew was there, and before they did much, I checked pulse, and he was 71, we put some water on him, and he dropped to 56, and we were over at the vet in minutes. I was now feeling so much less doubtful about his chances, as long as he stayed sound. But every trot out, he was looking great! So at 7:25, I was back on the trail, headed to the last canyon, and our 1 hour hold. 

This is the easiest canyon, and we were able to move out a bit more, but we caught up with a few riders, which slowed us down a little bit.  As you come out of the canyon, you go onto a paved road, called Bath Road. They had water troughs there, and he drank well, and we started the final climb up to the Foresthill vet check. With his Poly shoes, I was able to trot on the pavement some, and walked the steepest parts. Its always a welcome sight, to see people lining the road, cheering on all the riders. A local resident runs water hoses out to the road, to help cool the horses. While I mentally wanted to hop off to walk the last part, I stayed on him, stopped at the water spot, had someone hand me a hose, and I cooled him down.  We made our way on into the vet check, and timed in at 8:19pm. They SUGGEST you arrive by 8PM, and horses must be pulsed down by 8:45pm.  We stripped his tack, checked his pulse, and he was down. All the other vet checks during the day, except Robinson Flat, the vet does the pulse. I forgot they had pulse takers here, to check you, before going to the vet, and I got to the vet with a bit of confusion, that I did not have a pulse. Oops. But the vet was kind, took the pulse, which was 56, vetted us thru, and we were now headed over to the trailer for our 2nd 1 hour hold of the day.  We arrived as our friend Gayle was getting ready to leave. I wished him well, and as he rode off into the darkness, I prepped for doing so myself, as Hondo again, ate everything he could. 

NEXT: Into the darkness


Tevis part 3, Into the darkness:

At Foresthill, Hondo ate, and I managed to eat a little something. I had just not been hungry all day.  I got his glow sticks on his breastcollar, and changed to my other helmet that already had a headlamp attached. We changed to a shorter girth, as he had gone down in size a bit (more on that later) and when our hour was almost up, we headed to the timer, and then headed out. 

Its always already dark when I leave Foresthill, and the first part is along the  road, then thru town on the streets, a turn on to California St. and then on to the trail. I was asking those around me if any of the horses had done the ride before. Nope, not a one. Nice to follow a horse that knows the trail. In Fact, not sure any of the riders had done the trail before. I had practiced riding Hondo in the dark once, for a couple miles. He did great, but knew the trail. So, we got in behind some others, to get a feel of how they paced, and how Hondo was doing in the dark. A gal in the front used her headlamp, which does not bother me at all. Also, the fire a couple years ago took out all the trees and the moon was actually shining on the trail, as the trees were gone that used to make it so dark. The trail has a lot of switchbacks. They marked the end of each one with a red glow stick, to signal a turn. That worked well, and we were getting a feel for the trail. After a bit, our group of about 8, stretched in to smaller groups of 2-3. I stayed behind the one with the headlamp awhile, but was starting to feel we needed to pick up the pace a bit. I eventually passed her, and we found ourselves alone for a few miles. I decided to try using the headlamp, and found Hondo moved out better. I think much of that is, when I felt more confident, HE felt more confident. Using headlamps is a big controversy amoung riders, and regions. The key for me is, at a sharp turn, you sort of pan the light on to the turn, showing him where to go. And do NOT look around, and turn off  if we saw others ahead. I think now that Hondo has had so much practice in the dark, the headlamp would not be needed for MY comfort level. Again, this worked for US, and I’m never going to tell someone what to do or not do, unless its affecting my ride. About half way to the Cal2 water stop, I realized I had forgotten to refill my water bottles, and one was missing. I had a little in the one bottle, so I sipped it until I could refill at Cal2. Funny how very thirsty you are, when you realized you do not have much water. We finally got to Cal2, he drank, I drank, and we moved along. No reason to hang out there.  We were now headed to the Francisco’s vet check. A mix of more single track, and roads, Including a few steep/short climbs I had forgotten about.  Hondo started doing these weird grunt noises. Kind of like some horses do when they colic. Concerning, but he was still moving well.  Again, we found ourselves mostly alone, trotting thru the darkness. Finally we could see the welcome lights of the vet check. We arrived at 1:05am, with a cut off of 1:45am.  I was moving a bit slow, and a tad sleepy. I let him grab some food, a drink, and got to the vet and pulsed down to 56 with CRI of 52 at 1:14am. And he was sound! It was time for both of us to recharge a bit.  I parked Hondo at some hay and a mash, and went to find caffeine and something to eat. I was offered a Mtn Dew, which I quickly drank. It was so cold, and so yummy. I then drank 2 small 6 oz cans of Pepsi. Then a piece of pizza. It was 1:40am, and time to get a move on. Here I hooked up with Kirsten and Haily. Hondo always loves to have a friend along. And was happy to follow along. And again, you really do not have time to walk much. Trot, trot, trot…  Haily had a light, and we moved along at a nice steady pace. We picked up a few more riders who were thrilled to follow along with us. By now its pushing 3AM, and we have been riding since 5:15AM.  Finally we reach the river crossing. They have glow sticks like runway lights to ride between as we get to the river, and then they float in the river, to guide us around the best path to take. I had wanted to take Hondo to a local horse pool to swim him once before the ride, but did not have time. I had no idea what he would do as that cold water hit him. He drank a bit at the edge of the river, then we stepped on in it. The shore was a bit steep, and all of a sudden I was wet almost to my knees. A couple of the other horses sort of stopped, so we took the lead, and kept moving, then up the short, but steep climb out of the river. A bit more trail, then we finally reach the road towards the last vet check. This section always seems long, and I really could not remember how far it was to the Lower Quarry vet check. We swapped around who was in front between our group of 3, and the other group of about 4-5 that joined us before the river. I was constantly thinking about how Hondo was feeling. Was he trotting balanced? Any sign of lameness? Was he willing to trot when I asked? This was the last on trail vet check we had to get thru. Long sections of silence, where we are all thinking about our day, and how close we were to finishing. Finally! The lights of Lower Quarry. You ride above the vet check on the trail, then do a sharp turn down, into it. We had a cut off time of 3:30am. My in time was 3:24am  Again, I decided to check pulse, and go straight to the vet. Because many of us were arriving at once, I also did not want to get caught up behind a group vetting at the same time if I could help it. He was pulsed down and vetted at 3:27, with a pulse and CRI of 60/60.  He drank and grabbed some hay, and we were headed out. As I was getting back on him, the rider from Mexico, who brought his own horse up from Mexico was waiting for transport. His very sweet mare had gotten pulled. I was rooting for them to finish. His trip up, included a 21 day quarantine. So many stories on this ride. 

Now we were on the final stretch. It’s a big wide road to the highway 49 crossing. Its bright from the moon, and easy to move out, but also a very hard packed road. So we did not pound them fast. Just kept moving that steady pace.  After we crossed the highway, Hondo had been pre-ridden on the rest of the trail to the finish. He lead much of the way.  When we got to No Hands bridge, I remembered crossing it with Ted in 2019, where he picked up a lovely canter, and the moon reflected on the river. Tonight, I settled with a nice trot across it.  Looking at our timing, and knowing we had just 4 miles to go, Kirsten and I knew we did not need to push fast to finish. The rest of the group moved on, and we did more walking than trotting. We still had the final vet check to get thru.  We chatted some, but I was also reflecting on our day, and how Hondo far exceeded my expectations for the day.  Then, finally, we saw the lights of the finish line peek thru the trees. They are sort of above and to the left, and you go past, turn left and up a little hill and across the line. As I saw the lights I did a “Whoop” and called out “Let’s Go Hon-do!”, with my crew responding back.  I’m not even sure if we picked up a trot!  While its thrilling to cross that finish line, I’m always apprehensive to let my emotions go, until we vet thru and get the “Congratulations” from the vet.  While Hondo took a big drink from the finish line water trough, where so many grand horses have drank over the years, my crew gave me hugs and praise. We then headed from the timed finish line, down the road, across the railroad tracks, and on into the fairgrounds where we took our victory lap and photos as we went under the banner. Kirsten and I turned around after we passed under, and went back under the banner for a photo of us together.  More hugs from friends, and now I could get off and get him untacked, and ready for final vet check. They give us 40 min. from the timed finish at the over look, to vet thru at the end. Its about a 10 min. walk down from the timed finish to the arena. Then the victory lap. So we finished at 5AM. At 5:22am he had tack off, and we were vetting thru.  His final pulse was 48.  A funny note on our final vetting. On all my finishes, Dr. Mike Peralez has done our final vet. So when I came up to wait to vet thru, I was directed to another vet. I told him I was going to wait for Mike. He said I can’t do that. I joked and said “He has always vetted my horses thru at the end”. Then Mike looks up, and is told “She’s wanting to go to you”.  And Mike says” Yes, she has to come to me to vet thru”.  We all laughed. Mike and I both rode NATRC at the same time as junior riders, and I have known him, and his family for decades.  I held my breath as I had my crew trot him out. I of course was really watching the leg he was lame on a couple weeks before the ride and he was as sound and balanced as he could be. His scores on his metabolics were fine. Not outstanding, but fine.  Mike then turned and said the magic word: “Congratulations”.  Now I could get emotional and let some tears leak out.  The horse many would have betted on as one to NOT finish, had proved he was one tough boy, with recoveries that were good to spectacular. He was now a Tevis horse.

I’ll do a part 4 on random thoughts, synopsis and a bit on traveling over 1800 miles each way alone

I Ride, Therefore I Am

 My sleep quality has been marginal this week - nothing unusual, just one of those periods of my life…Perusing my Fitbit sleep data may be counterproductive - I know I tossed & turned, & woke up still tired; I don’t need a damnable piece of electronic technology to remind me!

Really on the fence about going to my trail ride this weekend, since both my Carlas have backed out as well as both Lisas! And poor Sam may be in transit right now - he’s going home to India for 3 wks to sort out care for his elderly mother. I know I haven’t mentioned my own mother recently as she continues her slow, pitiable, inexorable decline. I did manage to get her into the shower yesterday, which is an ordeal for both of us - at least she only had body odor and not frank fecal contamination. 

I had signed Peran & I up for a “couples’ heart scan” which was promoted on the radio for $99 - it sounded like a heck of a deal, but then he backed out since he had a phone interview yesterday (fingers crossed). I went ahead and went by myself, having read the reviews and knowing this outfit is trying to sell you on their full screening packages - which I may be interested in when my financial situation is a little less precarious - but for now I’ll just take my $99 heart scan, thank you very much! I should’ve warned the radiologist to pay no attention to my degenerate clavicle, just as I told a new girl at my PT place to nevermind all the snap, crackle and pops my little musculoskeletal system feature. (It doesn’t hurt it just sounds funny)

But nevertheless I want to see my other friends: Cindy, her daughter & granddaughter and everyone else that shows up for the trail ride, so I’ll be loading up shortly to meander on down to Wharton. I’ll actually be taking Silas for my friend Tina to ride - I don’t know what misfortune has left her afoot but I’m happy to oblige and that way I can ride Baraq again, he’ll be happy! No points or mileage but lots of fun, good food & camaraderie…