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FW: [RC] Canal Diving (long) - Mike SherrellMost excellent story. Thank you. I have read of two other occasions where horses fell into water when banks gave way -- I think it happened to Babar, in fact. I think it's a standard hazard you have to learn to look out for, like wire hidden in grass or gopher tunnels. Mike Sherrell Grizzly Analytical (USA) 707 887 2919/fax 707 887 9834 www.grizzlyanalytical.com -----Original Message----- From: ridecamp-owner@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx [mailto:ridecamp-owner@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx]On Behalf Of Maryanne Stroud Gabbani Sent: Monday, September 06, 2004 10:41 AM To: Equine-L; Ridecamp Subject: [RC] Canal Diving (long) Well, I suppose that it's only fitting that one of these days I had to write about something other than idyllic rides through mango and date groves or early morning desert rides in a t-shirt under sunny skies in December. It's tough living somewhere with a great climate, but someone's gotta do it, and it's easier to take on a snowy morning when you know that there is a down side. So here's my down side: My lovely daughter finally took off for New York and the halls of higher education, monkey sex and old bones (an anthropology major, not kinky!) at 3 am Saturday morning. Saturday was, needless to say, an utter write-off since it is an hour each way to the airport from my house, so sleep was in extremely short supply. That probably had a lot to do with my Sunday evening ride. Yesterday I had the house to myself, got it cleaned, started the organisation job after 2 months of college students, and about 7:30 I decided to go out for a ride with Dory. By 7:30 the horses have had their evening meal and it's getting dark, but living just outside a city of 20 million people darkness is relative. The moon was only about half full (can't actually recall seeing it) so it wasn't much help, but the light from the villas and farms was good and the sky looked like it was just before dawn...the way it does all night long here. They say that the Nile Valley is one of the brightest spots on earth and I can believe it. I've been riding alone in the countryside at night for years and have never had any qualms about it. I know my neighbours and they know me. My horses ride these trails all the time and know their way home from almost anywhere. Dory in particular is my favourite choice for riding alone at night because she knows EVERYTHING and isn't afraid of anything. I always feel safe with her, so she was my partner last night. We started out taking a 12 inch wide trail across the fields near the paddocks. They were irrigating some of the fields and the trail was broken in spots with the irrigation ditches filled with running water. Most Arabs in this neck of the woods regard running water much the same way that ghouls and witches do...not to be crossed....but with Dory, no problem. She hopped over without missing a beat, which was good since I didn't even see a couple of the ditches until we were on top of them. I was very proud of her. Midway down the trail she stopped to snitch some leaves from a farmer's corn crop and sneakily tried to turn around for home, like maybe I just wouldn't remember which direction we were taking. Hah! But she managed a 360 degree circle without stepping off the path. Very good. On a dirt road a bit further on, we caught up with a boy on a donkey. He got a bit competitive and Dory decided to show her heels lest the donkey get delusions of grandeur. Lovely canter to the village and then the obligatory walk among the dogs, kids, and resting mothers. At that point, this ride looked like we were going to have a ball. Dory was really into it, I was really into it. This was great. Cross the road, over the bridge and down a dirt road where the dredge had been piling canal mud up on the edge of the canal. A pickup truck was approaching and we had a rather tight fit between the truck (which kindly stopped) and the canal. But we passed. Score another one for our team. The next stretch of trail was really dark and Dory saw the donkeys and the fully laden cart before I did. But she figured that a cart full of forage was just a meal delivery rather than an obstacle. The owner of the cart didn't see it the same way so I edged her around to pass. Another road to cross and things started to get interesting as we jetted on down a dirt road at Dory's weird not-quite-trot that flies along. I suspect that it's some other "gait" but no one here has the slightest idea how to tell me what. I do love it though. We cut a right at an intersection onto a road that would narrow into a trail along a minor canal and then widen into a dirt road again. I figured that we'd take that and then loop home. The first thing that we saw were a group of men and boys fishing with blue/purple glow-in-the-dark bobbers in the canal. Neither of us had ever seen anything like it and Dory was fascinated by these glowing lights flying around in the air as they cast out into the canal. But there was a look and a snort, but no spook. The road ahead was crowded with trucks and cars, so one of the villas that we passed just before the trail narrowed was having a party or something. This turned out to be A Very Good Thing. On we cruised, to the trail, only to find that someone had planted corn right to the edge of the canal and our trail was nowhere to be seen...not that seeing a trail in a cornfield in the dark is a high probability anyway. Dory wisely decided that this was not the right direction and turned away from the canal to do one of her tiny turns when the bank of the canal, which had been undercut by the dredge, gave way under her hindquarters. I jumped off on her left to allow her the freedom to clamber up to safety, figuring that I'd land on dirt, but the same undercut bank got me and I landed up to my armpits in the canal. Now there are canals and canals. I've seen clean canals with sandy bottoms and then there are Nile Valley canals. My first thought (after relief that Dorika wasn't in the water with me) was "Thank God it's night and I can't see anything in the water" because canals here can contain such enticing objects as dead animals along with the usual fish, crayfish, and schistosomiasis flukes....not to mention the chemical run off from fields. But then I began to consider just how I would get out. There were no bushes along the bank, not even any sturdy grass to grab and pull and no slope since the dredge had undercut the bank. I looked about 50 feet or so down the path back to the villa with the party and saw some people coming out to the trucks. So I started yelling in Arabic the usual sorts of things that one would say to entice someone to pull one out of a stinking canal. Actually it was pretty full, which cuts down a lot on the odorous attributes. I shouted for what seemed like ages with no one responding or seeming to hear me. Dory was standing next to the canal waiting patiently for me to come to my senses and emerge from the waters like Aphrodite, but she wasn't even close enough that I could try to pull myself out by hanging on to one of her legs. If she had been, I might have tried it as I'm pretty sure that she'd have stood still for me. Instead she ambled down to the trucks and just stood there under a gate light in her saddle and bridle waiting for someone to notice her and realise that there should be a rider somewhere close, which, ilhamdulilah, they finally did. One last shout and some of the men came running, grabbed my hands and hauled me up on dry land. Once I was on my feet, the people offered me a hot drink (when it's 30 degrees out?), a shower (what was the point since I still had to get home?) and all sorts of help. I declined all offers leaving them convinced that I was utterly mad, hopped on my mare and high-tailed it for home. Riding in wet pants, boots, and half-chaps leaves a lot to be desired, even in our climate and I was so glad to get back to the paddocks. We hosed down Dory's muddy legs to check for scratches and cuts, thankfully finding none, and I headed home for a hot shower and a change of clothes. The water in the shower ran black, and that was AFTER I'd removed the clothes and boots. The next step was a prophylactic dose of praziquantel to kill anything that I might have picked up while investigating the irrigation ditch. Today I'm feeling rather stiff due to banging on the bank as I fell into the water and being dragged willy-nilly out on the dirt by my saviours, and Dory took the day off to relax too. I have no idea whether she would have continued down the road to home if the people hadn't seen her (she's gone home from places before but never if there's been an accident), but I like to think that she orchestrated my rescue. Okay, so I'm grateful that she decided to go home in a direction where there were people at least. Now I'm curtailing any canal-side trails at night an sticking to the nice wide dirt roads where I can be relatively sure that I will stay on dry land. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. Maryanne Stroud Gabbani Cairo, Egypt www.alsorat.com "The trail is the thing, not the end of the trail. Travel too fast and you miss all you are traveling for" Louis L'Amour =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Ridecamp is a service of Endurance Net, http://www.endurance.net. 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