All you REAL endurance riders, feel free to laugh about my 10 mile "adventure ride." I have been wanting to do an endurance ride with this horse for five years, so I guess I was just pleased to actually get out and do something even if it's the very definition of greenbeany.
The trail ride at Grizzly Mountain is 10 miles and I was very confident
the distance would not be an issue for Deli despite the fact that our regular
rides at the time averaged around 5 miles at a stretch on less challenging
terrain. Despite multiple injuries and bad luck, she is an athletic and capable
mare who has a good judge of footing and does great with technical trails.
Friends leaving on their LD on Sunday, the day after our ride. |
I opted to delay leaving in the morning so I could “ride my own ride”
away from the other group of trail riders. This was both a good and a poor
decision, depending on how you look at it. My husband wanted to hike with us
the first mile or two, which I welcomed because the loop we were to ride had a
couple gates that I was nervous about opening because they would require a
dismount. I can’t mount Deli from the ground – not because she’s too tall, but
because the saddle slips. She has low withers and a wide flat back, so this
isn’t an unexpected problem. When riding in Western Oregon trails I almost
always was able to find a log or rock to scramble up on, but I wasn’t so sure
about my luck in the Eastern Oregon sage land. I did end up dismounting 4 times
on the trail and the first three times I was able to find something to stand
on, or have Deli stand in a deep rut in the trail while I swung up. The last
time I was so close to ride camp that I just decided to jog back.
Deli was in good spirits as we set out. My PLAN was to walk the
majority of the trail ride – enjoy the scenery, take pictures, and see how Deli
would be in such a different environment. Almost immediately she turned on her
speed walk, showing she was more energized than she usually is at home. My
husband, Brian, is a very fast walker
(around 3.5-4mph) and he has a hard time keeping up with her when she is
grooving that walk. Ironically her slug walk is around 2mph and he normally
leaves us in the dust on home trails unless we are trying to make time.
She felt curious and forward and happy. One horse passed us politely
and she stayed 100% with me – she didn’t care. We crossed the highway and Brian
opened the gate for me, and then he headed back to camp, leaving us on our own.
Deli wasn’t the least fussed by being alone in the sage. She was definitely alert, but I was very happy to feel that
her alertness was more from excitement and curiosity than anxiety (though there
was a very small amount of that too, which was eased by moving FORWARD).
As we wound through some lovely juniper forest she suddenly spooked
forward, and I heard someone call behind me. I rushed to get her off the trail
(which was luckily wide enough in this spot). The front runners of the 50 mile
race galloped past us with a wave, calling out “beautiful horse!” as they left
us in their dust. Deli was NOT happy to be bum-rushed, and at this point I
realized what others had been telling me: you can practice all you want, but
nothing will give you the experience of actually BEING at a ride.
I let Deli trot, which seemed to ease her anxiety caused by strange
horses galloping past us like a bear was on their tails. Our trail split off
from the path the front runners were taking, but Deli wasn’t bothered that we
weren’t following them: she just needed to MOVE and was not happy when I asked
her to walk.
We got to the second gate and I dismounted, deciding to lead her
in-hand across the next highway crossing and find a place to pee. I am very
very prone to heat exhaustion and so of course I had drunk quite a bit of water
before leaving camp. I had to GO and I figured it would give me some time to
find a place to re-mount and let Deli grab some bites of grass.
After peeing I walked back to the road only to have more fifty-milers
pass us. I used the rut in the road to mount Deli again as she trembled with
excitement but stayed put for me to mount with a stern word.
At this point it became clear to me that we might not be walking quite as much as I had planned on this trail
ride. Deli was very excited, and while I could rate her at the trot and FORCE
her to walk by hanging on her mouth (I’m very glad she had a bit in her mouth,
honestly, because her side pull would have hurt her), she was very dissatisfied
by walking. And dissatisfied, I mean her brain stopped functioning when she
wasn’t trotting. At one point, trying to hold her to a walk she started kicking
out (her version of bucking in annoyance) and getting VERY wiggly. At this
point we were around 1.5-2 miles into the 10 mile ride, and about to head into
the hilly bit. In fact, from what I could see right after re-mounting, this is
where the trail went UP and UP.
I decided that at this point letting her trot was the safer compromise,
and that if she felt off or lame at all I would be getting off her and
hand-walking the rest of the ride – remember I was worried about her soundness
since we hadn’t done anything like this since her last collection of injuries.
In fact, if I hadn’t been worried about HER, I probably would have been much
happier to trot because my saddle was hurting me at this point and trotting is
by far more comfortable.
So we trotted. And Deli felt great.
I kept us at a fairly conservative pace, asking her to collect up when the
footing was iffy, and letting her go a bit when the footing smoothed out. There
were three main groups of fifty-mile riders that we kept leap-frogging with as
their trail met with and split away from ours. Seeing other horses on the move
ramped up Deli’s excitement level by several degrees every time, but I was
still able to steer and tested to make sure
I had an emergency halt twice.
At the first water trough we discovered that a gang of cows had taken
up camp and they were not giving up their spots to my chickenshit mare (she has
lived with cows before, but I think the mommas with their babies were being
threatening enough that Deli didn’t want to test the waters). In the end we
left that water tank without Deli drinking. She wouldn’t get close to it, with
all my coaxing. She didn’t seem at all dehydrated at this point, though it was definitely
warming up. She was VERY aware of where the trail continued and wanted to
GOGOGO.
Before the "race" started when we were still in the flat lands. |
So we went.
While less than pleased that I couldn’t get her to walk calmly on a
loose rein and forget all the excitement, I was happy that she didn’t seem to
get herd bound. Just excited. And the only cure for that excitement was
FORWARD. Forward always cures her anxiety, too, and looking back I have
encouraged that (when she is spooky or anxious I always push her forward and it
helps her brain come back to me).
At any rate, we pretty much trotted the remained of the ride, slowing
for steeper downhill and technical bits. She did great on the technical bits,
including one spot where the soil was loose and somewhat rocky – she just
tucked her bum at my request and power forward. Literally chomping at the bit
the whole way.
One of the most thrilling moments as a long straight wide stretch where
I let her open up her trot and also asked for some dressage “lift” in the back.
She dropped down into the contact, lifted her back while I did my hover-half
seat-posting and power trotted the whole stretch. At this point I had turned on
my GPS on my phone since I had good reception (without dropping it, amazingly –
the simple work I’ve been doing to teach her to neck rein is helpful) and that
trot clocked in at 13mph! The canter I asked her for a bit later was only
10mph.
She was still feeling good ¾ of the way through the ride, but I was
starting to regret not sticking around at that first water trough to sponge
her. She was very sweaty, and with most of her winter coat still present, very
hot to the touch. I tipped her nose regularly so I could make sure she wasn’t
breathing too hard (she did start breathing in time with her steps, which was
kind of cool), and she wasn’t in distress in any way as far as her respiration
was concerned. She also didn’t seem dehydrated based on the pinch test on her
shoulder. At this point I decided to dump the remaining water from my water
bottles on her shoulders, and spread it around on her flanks with the sponge I
borrowed from Melinda after drinking half of the bottle myself. All at the
trot!
(I undid her noseband so she could graze more easily in this shot) |
We came into camp, finally, with Deli still raring to go. We pulsed in immediately
just to see where she was at – and she was down despite being totally amped
still. I then took her back to our camp to untack her and remove her Easyboots
and DUMP water on her while she drank, and grabbed mouthfuls of grass and hay.
Then, after my husband forced me to drink (I was definitely more dehydrated
than my horse) I ran her over to the vet check. She got all As and superb gut
sounds except for attitude (B) because she was an absolute BITCH for the capillary
refill and decided flailing around was a good way to make friends. No, pony, it really isn’t. It’s
something we really need to work on, still, because she’d gotten fine with it
at home for me. Clearly I need to have more strangers poking her mouth on a
regular basis. Her trot-outs are stellar, and other than having a hard-to-find
heartbeat she is good for everything else to do with the vetting in.
So that was our ride. I opted not to take her out again because I didn’t
want to push our luck – I was immensely satisfied with the fact she was able to
trot a good 7+ miles without any negative consequences other than me being a
worry-wart. As for my health only my arms were slightly sore the next day,
which is to be expected as I don’t think I’ve ever had to hold her back so much
in the history of our relationship.
So do I think this horse could do 25 milers? Yes. Given a healthy body
and some needed tack and booting tweaking, I think she would have no issues
eating up those miles.
I actually think energy-wise she had another 15 miles in her that day. But
I am conservative. I am cautious. And I’m working with a horse with lots of
ongoing and/or potential soundness and health issues. Her welfare comes first
and it always will.
And of course the day after
we got home from Grizzly Mountain her girth-skin issues flared up again BAD and
I haven’t ridden her since. It’s healing, but I’m not sure what my next step is
as I don’t know how I am going to afford more expensive treatments that
(according to my vet) are unlikely to make a difference. It’s possible the
Grizzly trail ride irritated her skin just enough, but I don’t think the
irritation alone was the cause of the flare up (hint: I was riding her regularly
when it was dry and warmer in late winter/early spring without issues). This is
the frustrating tug-of-war my horse life plays with me – hope and excitement and
planning quickly replaced by disappointment and limbo.
C'est la vie?