The Quicksilver Fall Classic, October 2001 (Long)

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Nick Warhol (by way of Judy Long) nwarhol@yahoo.com
The Quicksilver Fall Classic, October 2001
(More fun in the Water) *

* (Gary Fend will no doubt enjoy this, and will probably add the incident
to his
    historical list of H2O related episodes)

Judy and I were not really planning on riding the annual Quicksilver ride
this year, since we had
some other rides scheduled, and Warpaint, the spotted Wonder Horse, needed
his time off after
Tevis to get better.  Besides- we have been around that Quicksilver park
so many times now I could
do the loop in my sleep, backwards, while blindfolded.   Those same old
roads, over and over.
But what ho!   It seems those crafty Quicksilver club dudes (we are going
to have to join that group
one of these days), decided to hold an all-new ride.  Not a new ride in
the same old park, no sir.
This was a new ride in a new park.  Henry Coe State Park was the chosen
site.  I think there is more
than one Henry Coe Park in the bay area, since I swear I have ridden my
bike by it somewhere up
in the mountains above the Peninsula.   But the ride was at the Big Mac of
all the state parks, the
one down off highway 101 near Gilroy.  This place is almost 90,000 acres.
That is so big it is
almost hard to comprehend.  The funny thing is neither Judy or I have ever
ridden here, since it's
a bit of a drive from Hayward.  With all the close by, cool places we have
to ride in the East Bay
we don't usually get that far south.  Live and learn, I guess.  Guess
what?  We'll be going back soon.

Lucky for me, Warpaint's Tevis injury was really slight.  He got foot sore
due to a shoeing error.
We were not paying close enough attention to his feet and let the
breakover get out of wack.
After our vet beat us about the head and shoulders with a stout stick,
(then he took some xrays for
the farrier), we fixed the spotted beast's feet and he was fine in no
time.   We decided to ride
the event at the very last minute and called the ever friendly, cheerful,
courteous, and always
helpful ride secretary, MaryBen for entries.  I packed up the creaky War
Pony and the youthful
Wabi into the trailer and headed south on Friday afternoon.  The traffic
wasn't too bad down
through San Jose, but I did have one problem finding the place.  The
instructions said take 101 S
to the Leavsley road exit, then left, right, blah, blah.  I looked for a
long time for a Leavesley
road sign, and was lucky to see it as I drove right by the exit.  There
were no signs at all for the
exit, except for the one sign on the exit itself.   No Biggie, I just went
another exit, hung a U-turn,
and headed back.  As luck would have it, I pulled off the freeway right
behind the Becky Hart mobile.
Cool!  I just followed them right into the park.  I still love that
license plate on that trailer- Rio 1 IT.
That's got to be one of the best ever.  I pulled in and set up camp, happy
that I was not pulling a
40 foot long horse trailer in there.  Some of those washouts were kind of
nasty.   Since Judy was
working until later, I had to get the horses vetted in, so I borrowed a
neighbor who helped me by
taking Wabi down while I took the pulling Appy.   Wabi?  Who is Wabi?
He's our newest horse,
we have actually had him for a year and a half now.   He's a really nice,
grey Arabian gelding by
Danshab that we are getting started.  I got him as a replacement for
Shatta when he was retired at
the prime age of 12.  Wab's a good horse, but he has a whole lot less
oomph that Warpaint or Shatta.
He's still young, and getting better, but I'm not crazy about riding a
horse who does not seem real
interested in going.   So- Judy is riding Wabi, and I ride Warpaint.   The
world is perfect!
She was going to do the 25 on him, it would be his second ride.

Speaking of poor Judy, she finally showed up at around 9pm or so.   I
won't embarrass her by
telling everyone how far south she drove on Highway 101, but she fell
victim to that road sign
problem as well.   I had everything set for the morning, while Wabi made
every attempt to eat
all the hay we had.  I thought Warpaint ate a lot!   This little spode ate
five flakes of hay!
Crunch, crunch, crunch all night long.   I made Judy her salad and beer,
by the time she finished
it was bedtime.   We awoke to a nice, cool morning and began getting the
horses ready.  Judy was
cleaning the Wab man, since he had rolled during the night, and found a
problem.  The little tuna
had gotten his right front leg stuck somewhere and had a nice cut on his
lower leg.  Yep, he's lame
on it.  That was the quickest ride Judy ever did.   Bummer!  She was out
already!   Disappointed,
she gave the little spud some more hay and helped me get ready.   I left
the truck a few minutes
before seven- Wabi made a couple of calls, but some more hay shut him
right up.   This is good.
Judy said farewell, and be careful with my Horse!   I rode to the start
and just kept on going
after giving Steve the ride manager my number.   Warpaint was being his
usual self, just trying to
hammer and run.  I went "briskly" along the first mile or so, passing a
few horses who were not at
Churchill Downs this fine morning.  I came across a nice looking horse
that was going a nice pace,
being ridden by a Quicksilver club member named Dawn Perrine.  The horse
was just cruising along,
so we rode together for a while.  We caught other QS people- Mike Maul on
his new horse
(big dude, looked nice), Hugh Vanderford on a strong looking beast.  We
chatted as we attacked
the first big hill- a very long and sort of steep climb on nice roads.
Dawn and I ended up together,
since our horses seemed to be pacing very well with each other.  In fact,
they were getting along
very well.  I was shocked when she told me Mikey was a stallion.  He was
totally cool!  I have
never really ridden with a stallion for any period of time in a ride
before, but these two were
buds already.   The trail kept climbing on these nice roads, and when we
got to the top of a big
ridge we looked to the right.  EGAD!  Was I in an airplane?   It sure
seemed so.  What a view!
You can see past at least three ranges of mountains.   I would have
stopped for a tea party if I
had the time, well okay, maybe not.  It was neat enough just to look at it
in the early morning.

We went up and down a lot of hills and valleys, never being on anything
level for more than a
minute or so.  Sort of like Grant Ranch, but just with bigger hills, and
what views!   Before long
we rolled into the trot by check at nine miles, where Michelle Shaw took a
look and said have fun!
We got a drink of water and went on our way, still on these rolling roads.
After a couple of miles
we suddenly turned off onto a really cool single track trail.  How did
they find this?  It was not
very used, that's for sure.   I love single track anyway, so Warpaint and
I led the way, trotting
through the trees.   Dawn and I were talking about all kinds of stuff- she
was glad to be back
riding after knee surgery a few months ago.   We made our way down a long,
steep canyon
(that I knew we were going to have to go back up) and turned onto another
trail, this one was
even less used.  In fact- I don't know if there was really a trail!  We
just rode up this long,
steep ridge that just happened to be the highest ridge of the three that
were going up the mountain.
It was one of the coolest trails I have been on in a long time.   It was
marked with ribbon on
bushes- you just sort of worked your way up the ridge, since there was no
where else to go.
Up and up and up, always a little higher than the other ridges, so you
could see the incredible
views.  We got into the manzanita bushes, that I love and hate.  They are
the coolest shrub/tree,
yet the toughest thing that ever grew. (except for Joshua Trees, but
that's another story.)
I call them 4110 Chrome Moly bushes, cause if you hit one, you give, they
don't.   Higher and
higher we climbed- both horses powering up without so much as a
hesitation.  Don't you just love that?
Up at the summit there was another great view, and then an airstrip.
Right.  Make that a dirt road.
Ain't no 747 going to land here.  We were treated to some semi-level roads
to trot on that led us
to the first check, next to a big lake, where Ken Cook had things all neat
and tidy.   They had
this water pump in the lake and a fire hose that was powerful enough to
fill the water troughs
back at base camp.  We vetted through just fine, and I even swiped a
chocolate donut from the
back of Ken's truck.  Yummy!   The horses had hay and apples for fifteen
minutes, we left right
on time and started climbing again.  One more big climb, mostly walking,
led us to another summit,
from where we could see where the lunch check was going to be.  It was
WAY, WAY down there.
It was a long downhill, all the way down that mountain to the lunch check
at 30 miles.  We walked
a lot of it, since there was some rocky stuff in parts of the roads.

The check was nice to see, since there was Judy waiting for me.  She left
Wabi at camp, after
giving him more hay.   If he had one of those automatic feeders, like the
kind you put cat food in,
he would eat for days.  Warpaint cooled down quickly and vetted through
fine.  It was nice to
sit in the shade and have lunch, since it was getting warm.  I got in just
as the leaders were heading
out.  The break was refreshing, but I wanted to get back on the horse,
since the trail out of lunch
started right up the hill, in the trees, on a single track.  Dawn and I
headed out, with Warpaint still
jamming up the hill.  The trail out was indeed single track, for a bunch
of miles.   It went way up the
mountain, and was very steep in certain places.   We spent a lot of time
walking up that mountain,
and stopped at a cow pond for a drink.  I think Warpaint drank 30 scoops
of water.   Now we hit
the best part of the ride, at least in my opinion.  We were treated to a
few miles of really nice,
rolling, single track trail where we trotted almost the whole thing.   The
scenery was a lot like
Sunol and the Ohlone wilderness, but longer and prettier.  And there was
NO-ONE HERE!  No
hikers, bikers, dogs, cats, taxis, or anything!  What a treat.  We blazed
down the trails until we
made another turn uphill.   More uphill?  Yep- we walked up another eight
hundred foot or so climb
to the top of a mountain.  If it was clear I bet you could see anything
from up there.   Over the top
and down the other side, onto another neat single track that you could
trot on.   It had been a while
since they had a drink, so I was happy to see a water trough off the trail
about fifty feet or so.  We
went over and hopped down while the horses drank big.  I gave Warpaint
some salts when he was done
drinking, and was putting the syringe away when he stuck his nose back in
the trough to rub.   Uh oh.
Guess what.   Yep- he got the hook in his kimberwicke bit stuck in a loop
of wire that was holding the
trough to a 2X4.  I don't think you could have done that if you tried, but
he did.   He pulls his head up,
and he's stuck.  Okay, so what's he do?  He proceeds to yank his head up,
and in doing so, he picks up
the water trough with him.  This is a real trough, one of those big,
Rubbermaid 90 gallon jobs or so.
And it is half full of water!   So now he's in startled mode, and starts
to back up, with the entire trough
attached to his face.  The PVC pipe is broken and water is spraying all
over the place. Mike the good
horse starts to move away at the commotion, but Dawn holds him steady.
Now the Appy is bolting
backwards, with the trough on his face, water flying everywhere, with me
trying to get to him.  He
picks up speed, causing more sloshage, dousing me in the process.  I just
have this thing about getting
soaked at endurance rides, I guess.   Luckily for everyone involved, the
hook on his bit broke off
after he backed up a few feet, causing the trough to hit the ground, right
in my path.   I tripped
over the stupid thing while trying to get to the horse, going down in more
water and mud.   At least
the stupid thing is off his face!

What's Warpaint do?  He turns, and starts trotting away.  I'm running
after him, asking him to whoa.
 (yeah, right.  What's the point?)   I figure okay, he will go down the
trail, and since it's it is single
track, no matter what direction he chooses, he will come to a rider, or
the vet check, since it is only
about 2 miles away.  Robert Ribley on Murr the Blur was only a few minutes
ahead of us, I bet Robert
will stop the stupid Appy.   All these things are going through my mind as
I chase the horse, (I've done
this before, eh' Gary?) but I start to worry as Warpaint crosses the
course and just goes out over the
virgin hill, still trotting, and away from me, across the grass, down the
steep hill, towards a canyon.
Cripes!  Now I'm remembering the three things they told us about this park
at the riders meeting- Don't
get lost, don't get lost, and don't get lost!   There is no help out here,
and it's a big place.  Okay- time
to get serious.  The horse had to slow down to get across a really gnarly
gully, which he crossed,
thank you, giving me a chance to catch up a little.  I was on the downhill
side of him, so I blazed
down this hill, cutting him off, or at least keeping him from going down
any further.   He sort of
slowed down when he saw me down below him, and turned back up the hill.  I
took off at a dead run,
up this steep hill, in the weeds and rocks, and managed to get next to him
and grab his reins.   We
tood there for a minute or so, while my pulse got back down from my red
line.

Poor Dawn wasn't sure what to think, since I just disappeared down the
hill, chasing the horse.
She mounted up and started down the trail, and was surprised to see me
trudging back up the hill
about a quarter-mile from where we departed.  I got up to the trail, got
on his back, and he just
starts trotting along like nothing happened.  I pounded down my water and
wished I had more.  I
have not worked that hard in a while.  That was exciting!  Nothing like a
little extra activity to liven
up a ride.  At least I was cool from the water that had doused me.  Dawn
and I pondered what the
following riders would think when they got to the tank.   She said it was
near the trail, upside down,
white PVC pipe broken, and water coming out into a little ravine.   I felt
better when the next water
trough was only a mile further.  Warpaint drank out of this one too, but I
was a little more careful.
We rolled into the last check where we had a 15 minute hold.   Michelle
did a great job getting us
through while she was working on a horse that was having some trouble.   I
told them about the tank,
thinking I better give Steve my credit card number at the finish.  Then
someone brought up the
Warpaint off the cliff story, then the Warpaint jumps the Honda Civic
story.  We all agreed he's
certainly entertaining.

We rode out of the check with a few miles of rolling roads, the back down
that really long downhill
to the flat road we rode out on in the morning.  We hooked up with Robert
and Murr the Blur, and let
me tell you, that mule is the Warpaint of mules.  He really trucks along.
We literally smoked down
the last 3 miles to the finish, going faster than I thought that mule
would go.   The three of us slipped
in in 10th, 11th, and 12th, with me in the middle.   Warpaint vetted out
fine, the vet said he looked a
little foot sore, but okay.   Back to the trailer, where Wabi is eating.
I was famished, and was really
pleased at the dinner.  It was great!  A Mexican buffet that was
excellent.  Best ride dinner in a
long time.   The good news was that only 2 riders got pulled in the 50,
and I think none were pulled
in the 30, or maybe just a couple.  My hero Julie Suhr finished the 50,
along with her daughter
Barbara White.  I still can't believe that's what, 47 Tevis buckles going
down the trail between
those two!   The mind reels…….     My buddy Rebecca and her sister
finished the 50, but she wasn't
on her super cool dude horse, Moose.  He's out with a suspensory injury.

The ride was indeed tough, but was absolutely wonderful in every other
aspect.   On a horse like
Warpaint it was a walk in the park.  (Or, a run down and up a hill for
me.)   I'll do it again!  Way
to go, Steve.  It was fun.

Nick Warhol
Hayward, Ca.