Pirate Run (Conclusion)

[Howard4567@aol.com]

We trot out of the dense forest area onto another dirt road and make a right 
turn.  I have yet to see one vehicle out here on these dirt roads that are 
part of the trail.  This must be part of the Florida Alabama border that was 
never fought over during the war.  Oh, I forgot, we were on the same side.  
haha.

Actually, it's not a residential area at all.  The land is owned, if I 
understood Kim correctly, by a timber company who has given us all permission 
to ride on their land.  When I write to thank them I'll also make a request 
for them to take out some of those trees, where Princess and I just went 
through.  And while you're at it, can you build a bridge (very large, like 6 
lanes wide) over that damn creek?

I have Princess in her favorite mode of travel on the road.  She wants to 
canter but I think it's better for her to stay in this trot.  Y'all say it 
with me now:  BOING BOING.
Catchy, don't you think?  haha.

She is still moving out very well.  And up ahead I spot Bernie, taking a 
leak, by the roadside (he's gonna love me for writing that).  I slow Princess 
down to ride with my pal; he mounts up and off we go.  He says something 
about riding with the lady on the Black Quarter horse, after he passed me at 
the creek, and that about ends our conversation.  Men don't really talk as 
much as you ladies think we do.  At least not while riding.  I did mention 
that I lost the spur he gave me.  Bernie wondered, outloud, if my fortune 
might have run out when my "lucky" spur decided to leave me.  

Bernie took the lead and his Buckskin was cantering.  Princess started to do 
this also, lowering her head.  It looked like sand, from Bern's big OLE 
walker, was being kicked in her pretty face.  This never happens when I ride 
Dance Line, with his head up high and the fact that he's 17 hands tall.  But 
Princess is low to the ground, so I slow her down a bit to get away from the 
sand spray.

We catch up to Blacky, ride with them awhile, and then Princess decides she 
wants to pass all of them.  And we do.  I keep her in that extended trot even 
when the others are cantering.  BOING>>>BOING.  Her springs remain as tight 
as ever.

After a while I glance behind me and don't see anyone.  We get to another 
creek, Princess drinks, and on we go.  Then we get to that tricky area, where 
a volunteer is waiting with a clipboard, to tell us which way to go.  It's 
Randy, volunteer extraordinaire.  And then I remember about the beer.

I get down to sponge my horse and ask Randy how many 25 milers are in front 
of me.  He looks down at his list and tells me we're the first ones to get to 
him.  I say, "Yea, right,"  and Randy says, "Really, Howard, you're the 
first."  Oh, man,  I think he might be serious here.

Knowing that the others are right on my tail, I forgo the beer break (this is 
a first for me, I must say), get back on Princess and Randy tells me which 
direction to take.  Now this loop that I'm on now will circle back to Randy, 
and when I get to him, for the second time, we will only have 3 miles left.  
I keep Princess in her trot.  I don't want to canter any more on my young 
horse, even though she seems to have plenty of gas left to do so.

I find myself glancing behind, more than I normally do at a ride.  I just 
have the feeling that the other riders, when they find out what place they're 
in, are going to come hauling up to us and pass.  I've never come close to 
winning anything in this sport, even when Dance and I did LD's.  Never even 
top tenned before.

We get back to Randy, he confirms Princess is still first, throws me a beer 
and we take off.  The feeling of being a winner, for once in my life, hits me 
and I yell out a REBEL yell.  And then I yell out Marv Albert's favorite 
phrase, "YESSSSSSSSSSS!"  Damn, I feel good.  I drink the can of beer 
quickly, while Princess is still trotting, spill most of it all over me (this 
should make those volunteers wonder when we get to the vet check), crumble up 
the can by smashing it onto my helmet (helmet check) and put it in my fanny 
pack. Then I put my head down on the side of Princess's neck and I start to 
sob.  I just can't believe any of this.  It has to be a dream.

Now, I'm constantly looking behind me.  I know about the 60 beat heart rate.  
That's who wins the LD, the first horse down to 60.  Somehow, I think we have 
a great chance of making that one.  I want to keep the lead.  I don't see 
anyone behind me.  The last time I had ever felt like a winner was in 9th 
grade, when I had a successful wrestling season.  That was so long ago I had 
forgotten the feeling.  Damn, I just knew there was something special about 
this horse.  She really is a Princess!

We get to the finish line, but I know our job here is not over.  I take 
Princess to our portable corral, remove the saddle and pad, and sponge her.  
She drinks a lot of water.  I wait for her to finish and keep an eye out for 
any of the 25 milers behind me. I don't see anyone come in.

I take her near the vet check area.  No one is in line.  I check her heart 
rate and it seems up, so I wait a bit.  No need to rush.  I tell someone I 
know that, if we get down first, we just might win this thing.  Next thing I 
know I have 5 or so women surrounding my horse, calming her down, sponging 
her, and doing things crew helpers do.  I only know one of them.  This is 
just way too cool for me.

We go to the check and a volunteer takes her pulse.  And she's down.  Below 
the required 60.  "Time in on Y," she says.  And it all just hits me.  I 
break down and cry, a woman comes up and hugs me, and I put my head on her 
shoulder, not being able to control myself.  Others around us are staring, 
wondering what on earth is wrong with this man.

We get though the check, it's official, we won the 25.   I try not to cry in 
front of the vet.  He tells me to come back in 15 minutes, if we want to 
participate in the BC.  I confirm we'll be back, even though I have no clue 
what to do for BC.  I've never done that before either.

I had to report back to Nancy twice, for the BC checks.  One of the ladies 
asked me how it felt to be a winner.  I started dancing, right there, next to 
my horse.  Princess nodded her head as I danced, as if to say, "Yea, he 
really is a nut case."  I'll do anything for a laugh.

But it really did feel good.  I don't know what else to say.  Ponce De Leon's 
fountain of youth had hit me, while crossing one of the creeks, and I was a 
kid all over again.  And I hope that feeling never leaves me, even when I'm 
80 and still riding endurance.

The awards dinner was excellent that night.  I was still on Cloud 9.  Food 
was great and they even had raw oysters and a keg of beer.  Kim and Michelle 
know how to throw a party.  And they gave out a ton of prizes.

Kim was funny when she got to me getting my first place award.  Before she 
announced my name, she said, "And you just won't believe who won first place 
in the 25."  What an intro.  After she announced my name, I did say something 
silly in front of the crowd.  I was so overwhelmed I can't remember what 
exactly it was.  Something to the effect that I really felt out of place, 
winning anything, and had no clue as to what to do up here.  I get something 
more than a T-Shirt?  Are you sure?  What I did win was a paid for Cloud 9 
saddle pad.  Kind of ironic, don't you think?

I'd like to finish up this story with a few things.  First, this ride might 
not survive.  Kim and Michelle both lost money here, second year in a row, 
and they were talking about not being able to afford to have it again next 
year.  Quite a few of the Florida endurance rides are hanging on, by the skin 
of their teeth, and I find this very unfortunate.  So, I'm begging you 
Georgia folks, and the other Southerners who ride endurance.  Please, if 
Michelle and Kim try it again next year, please, go to this ride.  It is one 
of a kind, top of the line, and you'll be glad you did.

The last thing I'll mention is, yes, I am aware that a 25 miler is limited 
distance, and is considered to be a training ride.  I know you have to 
complete a 50 miler to do a true endurance distance with your horse.   And, 
yes, I am aware that my horse is young and I should have went slow with her.  
But, in my own defense, my ride time was 2:52, and that's not a normal ride 
time to win a 25 mile run down here in the South, in an area that is 
considered to be a flat land area ride.  The normal winning time is, usually, 
2 hours or less.  

This sport means a great deal to me, more than it probably should.  But even 
more than the sport, is the horse.  And no matter how great winning or top 
tenning is, the horse comes first.  I will pull my horse if anything seems 
amiss, like it did when I almost lost Dance Line at a ride.  I would not be 
able to live with myself if I ever make that mistake again.  Take care, be 
good to your horse, and they will be good to you.  If you ever spot me at a 
ride, please stop by for a beer.  As you probably guessed, I enjoy the 
company of horse people, especially endurance riders, and I just love to talk.

cya,
Howard