The Wife, the Kid & Me

[Howard4567@aol.com]

OK, some of you have been buggin me about putting out a story.  I'm trying, I 
really am, but lately, I've had trouble.  Especially with this one.  Not sure 
why; well, actually, I know why, so I'll try and tell ya.  It's about the 
wife, mostly, and I guess the subject kind of scares me.  

You see, I've gone through a divorce once already, and I sure as Hell don't 
want to repeat that one again.  Even though it's been 15 years those 
memories, they haunt me still (yea, I know that's from a song).  I won't 
relive that experience here except to say that when I call one of my kids up 
in Yankeetown, Pennsylvania, and the ex answers the phone, I get all 
nauseous, queasy, nervous and tongue tied.  It's always a tough call to make, 
not talking to the boy but talking to the ex so I can talk to the boy.

So, anyway, I don't want to upset the current wife, I do love her so.  She's 
learned to live with my quirkiness and my weird ways, better than I thought 
anyone could.  And, along with Dance Line, she is my best friend.  SHHHHH, 
don't tell her that, I don't think she'd like me comparing her to my horse.  
In fact, if I'm ever going to finish this story, you and I need to make a 
pact.  Don't tell the wife what the heck I'm saying on here.  She hasn't 
discovered Ridecamp yet, and if you ever want to shut me up permanently, 
telling her how to get there will probably do it.  Or, if this doesn't 
succeed in completely closing me down, you'll get a much different version of 
Gator Howard.  One who types with a muzzle over his mouth.

See, the problems I'm having?  Pretty funny, don't you think?  Can't even get 
the story started without stammering or stepping on myself.  Well, that's why 
this one is so tough.  I thought once I got going, the words would just flow 
like they normally do; heck, I can usually write about endurance as easily as 
most women can talk: on and on and on.... (haha, that's a joke, don't get 
mad), but not this time.  Here's what I have so far, but please, don't bug me 
too much for part two or whatever follows.  It might go unfinished.  For once 
in my endurance career, the words don't flow that freely.

So, like the Adult Sites on the Internet say:  If you proceed further, enter 
at your own risk, and you must be 18 or over (not really, I'm rated PG 13, 
which matches my maturity level), and promise me that you will not phone the 
wife and tell her to go onto endurance.net.gethowardintroublebigtime.com  
That's the deal.  By continuing to read this you agree to keeping your trap 
shut.  OK?  You may now enter the site.


The Wife, the Kid, & Me

Well, what can I say about the wife?  I love her dearly, that's a start.  She 
finally went with Jennifer and I to an endurance ride, the famous Far Out 
Forest.  Dance and Rebel, Jen and I, were all doing a 50.  A tough 50!  Damn 
tough.  Total sand dune, and I'm not joking.  Stuff only Florida horses are 
used to; it was even tough sand for me and my gang.  And we live and train in 
the land of sand.

As most of you know already, my Dance Line is the tallest and the craziest 
horse that shows up at the endurance rides in the Southeast.  Jen and I have 
had luck at this ride before.  She top tenned in the 35 last year and I came 
in eleventh place.  And my gal, Val, was entering the 50 here; I couldn't 
believe my luck.  A chance to ride with Val; somebody pinch me I must be 
dreaming!  Dance Line can keep up with anyone on that first loop.  Just ask 
Nina.  I was planning on following Val for the first stretch of trail.  I 
decided I was gonna finally get up the nerve to talk with her, on horseback, 
side by side.  I hope I don't say anything stupid.

I had so many questions to ask my hero.  I wanted to talk about the Sheiks.  
I knew I was misinformed and reacting to questionable rumors and innuendo's.  
I'm sure Val could clear it all up for me.  If anyone could I knew she was 
the one.  She knows everything.  I know nothing.

One thing I do know is how to put on a show at the vet checks and run a run 
the first 15 miles or so.  Usually, 25, he's on fire, my Dance Line, at the 
start of these things.  And I can't see me riding any other horse here, 
although I am considering trying out my recently turned 4 year old Painted 
mare, Moonlight Princess, in a short distance ride one of these days.  But 
Dance has turned into an incredible 50 mile true endurance horse, even if he 
looks more like a giraffe than a horse and doesn't have that Arabian 
metabolic advantage.  Do I sound excited?  Am I proud of my horse?  You bet!

Anyway, the wife, her name is Erica, joined us for the first time at FOF.  
I've been doing the sport for over 2 years, Jen, probably, 15 months, and 
this is the first time the three of us showed up at one together.  And it's 
less than a one hour trailer journey from our house.  Can't beat that!

Not too many people showed up at the ride; I was disappointed.  It was like 
this last year too.  I can't believe endurance people would be scared of a 
ride that's rumored to be "too tough."  Is sand that scary?  I mean if you 
have aspirations of running with the Sultans of Swing in Dubai, wouldn't this 
be the perfect place to prove your worthiness?  And why is Val doing the 50 
here?  I've never seen her enter one where a hundred was offered and it was 
here.  Nothing is too tough for my gal, Val.

We left on Friday, and leaving was kind of different.  Wife helped pack, so 
things had the illusion of being organized; a far cry from the norm, I must 
admit.  I don't remember using duct tape one time.  And this was only the 
beginning of the changes I was to see along the way. I hope I bought along 
enough beer.

We arrived, and as I was setting up the portable corral, the wife and Jen 
were to put up the tent.  I was interrupted a couple times, for my input as 
to location of where to put the tent and then, I had to actually produce the 
tent, two air mattresses, and other accouterments that were to be placed 
inside the tent, after it was erected.   Of course, I had forgotten where I 
put everything, so this took some time.

The wife had never seen the tent, erected.  She was in for a real surprise.  
After we got the thing up, she went inside to try and sweep out the dirt that 
had collected on our plastic sheeted floor.  As she was sweeping, she looked 
up at the top, for some reason, and noticed the duct tape that was keeping 
part of the tent attached to the other part that had ripped away one windy 
night at a ride in South Carolina. She looked at me and asked what I thought 
the chances were of it raining this weekend.  I told her little to none.  She 
then resumed sweeping.  I'm not sure what she would have done if I told her 
it was going to rain.

I had parked a bit far away from the vet check area, but I did this because I 
wanted to give the horses some shade, and the tree line was not that close to 
the roped off vet area.  I was a little disappointed that my wife's first 
ride (as a crew type person) was going to be one with not that many riders 
(around 70 total).  But, hey, Val was here, so what more could you ask for?

The briefing, before the ride and after the spaghetti dinner, was 
informative, as usual.  My favorite vet in the entire world, Dane Frazier, 
was here.  After the ride manager gave us a short talk about the trails (deep 
sand, go slow), he then gave the microphone to Dane.  And I leaned forward in 
my seat to take in every word.  I was not disappointed.  

If you've never met Doc Frazier, you really should try and do so.  He's a vet 
who, also, rides horses, and you can tell.  I can't quote him word for word, 
but I'll give it a shot.  His words moved me at this ride and I'll try and 
share some of them with you. 

He started out with the fact that this ride is not an easy one.  The mileage 
is accurate.  You will do a true 50 mile here, a true one hundred.  I didn't 
find out until the next day just how right on he was about that one.

He then spoke of the horses.  Doc mentioned that we, as endurance riders, 
push them closer to the edge, closer to their breaking point, more than any 
other equestrian sport.  Some of us know this, some of us do not.  It's not 
until something bad happens when we discover exactly where that edge is 
located.  As he said this it bought a few tears to my eyes since Dance Line 
and I had already made a trip down that road. I had taken Dance Line over 
that edge at an endurance ride just about a year ago. I planned on that never 
happening again.

Then he spoke of the riders.  The sport.  How we do this because it takes us 
out of our comfort zone.  We leave our twenty-first century safety and 
security net at home and come out here, with our horses, to compete in a 
grueling sport.  During the weekend we learn something about ourselves and 
our equine companions. Something that we would not learn sitting at home, 
eating our ready cooked meals and watching television.  It's a challenge, 
there's no doubt about it.  An experience, that hooks us to the point where 
some of us just have to repeat it over and over again.

I had never heard anyone say that about the "comfort zone," at a preride 
briefing before, even though I knew it was so true.  I wish I could quote him 
word for word because I hung on to every one.  What a special kind of guy 
this man is; intuitive is not quite the right word, but it's the best I can 
come up with for now.  If he's doing the FOF ride next year, go, just to meet 
this Veterinarian.  You'll see what I'm talking about.  And, I bet, Val will 
be there too.

As the Doc spoke, I glanced over at Erica.  She was taking in every word.  I 
might have prepped her for this, I'm not sure, by telling her how much 
respect I had for this man.  Anyway, she was paying attention and I think 
this might have been the start of hooking the wife with the sport of 
endurance.  Gee, thanks Doc.  I thought I had everything under control till 
that started.