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The night before the ride we managed to get to bed fairly early - a 4AM
start, which meant a 2:30AM alarm, so a few hours sleep at best. I awoke
well before the alarm went off - (this is a miracle, I'm not a morning
person) - wide awake and Really Ready! I felt this overwhelming sense of
relief and excitement - finally, let's do this thing. All the nerves and
stress and worry, trying to imagine how the start would be, how the horses
would behave, would they stumble over the roots in the dark, would the sand
on the beach be soft and treacherous, would I be able to stay on Gordita if
she got too excited? ...all that stuff - all that didn't matter any more.
Just time to go and do it.

We got to the barn plenty early, John helped me round up the tack from
Miguel's trailer and carry it to the barn. Orlando was there taking the
blankets off the horses, getting them groomed, lots of excitment. My plan
was to stick with Leonard and Austria (to whom Gordita was particularly
bonded) at least for the first loop. Miguel and Leonard intended to start up
front to stay out of the craziness, so that's where I would ride too, for a
while. Must be the mother in me (raised three boys) but I tend to start
worrying about everybody else once the ride gets rolling. Leo and I were ok,
mounted and ready on Austria and Gordita, but still didn't see Miguel (it
was very very dark). And Leo had that look in his eye, it's race time. I
tried to get Gordita settled down, while letting her keep Austria in sight,
and sending 'pings' out to Leo when I lost him 'Leo?'  'Here Steph'
'Shouldn't we wait for Miguel?' 'silence...' . Finally Miguel and Tigre
showed up. Watching Miguel ride his stallion made me feel totally foolish
for ever thinking my mare was a challenge. In the dim light from the barns,
they were a beautiful sight. Tigre doing piafs, galloping in place, a keg of
dynamite, and Miguel sitting deep in the saddle, total concentration on his
face.

We started together towards the start - past the barns, out to the street
and back in at the Hippocampo entrance, to gather together in a large field,
glaring lights, ghostly horses warming up in all directions. At some point
on the way there we lost Miguel, he had to go back for something, so I
focused my attention on Leo - 'wait a minute, we lost Miguel, no - I don't
want to canter quite yet... Leo?' Leo was off on his own at that point - his
brain had been replaced by a single thought. race.

Riding somebody else's horse is a little different game, and I felt
tremendous responsibility to take care of the horse, and this left me
feeling a little insecure about the start, especially with Leo apparently
doing his own thing, I sure hoped I could control her for the first few
miles. At that point I spotted Miguel, and he had another rider with him.
Farod, a rider from Qatar would be riding a horse that Miguel had been
keeping as a spare, just in case one of the others didn't vet in. Another
very nice, very fit mare. We would ride together.

'And Go' - and in the semi dark we exploded out of the field. In the first
rush the horses were plenty excited. My mare was galloping sideways, pushing
Farod and his mare away from the start into the trees and I though 'crap,
we're going to wreck' - but she straightened up and turned in just in time
to get through the starting gate. Finally, forward motion - strong but
steady. Finally, we've started.

The 5 kilometers to the beach were good - fast, strong, steady - lights from
riders' headlamps and the ATV's following along were nasty and distracting,
and made the horses nervous as the shadows danced in the forest, but nice
wide track and good footing, and no problems. At one point I saw Mercedes
and Kasal go by. We followed for a little while, I shouted 'Buen Suerte!
Good Luck!' to her, not sure if she heard me, but I really wished her a good
ride. Kasal was in Fine form, really looked great - this should be a good
race for them.

We started to spread out a little as we hit the dirt road that parallels the
ocean. Miguel was setting the pace, Farod and I riding along beside. Leo was
long gone.  We picked up a gallop and cruised along in the dim light from
the street lights, horses strong and wanting to run faster, but willing to
be held back. In one moment Tigre tripped, and stumbled, and couldn't get
his feet back under him. He slid along on his knees and finally rolled his
shoulder into the ground. At that point Miguel hit the ground with his
shoulder too. It all happened so fast. I brought Gordita around and came up
beside, she was hard to hold and I was afraid to try to dismount with other
horses running in front and behind. Miguel and Tigre got up together, Miguel
holding him by the reins when he tried to run off. Few words were exchanged,
mostly it was so fast and so dark and such an anxious moment that we held
our breath.

Miguel got back on and we started moving out again slowly.
Tigre looked ok, but when I looked at Miguel he had his right arm clenched
to his side and his face was grim. At this point I figured it was over for
Miguel - his months (years) of preparation, anticipation, hard work and
focus - all lost. Having watched Tigre slide across the road I figured he'd
be lamed for sure, and the pain in Miguel's eyes - how could he ride another
150 kilometeres, even if Tigre wasn't hurt.

'Are you alright?' 'My shoulder...'. Not much more was said for a while, we
moved out again, trotting and then picking up the canter. Miguel looked over
with a tight face, but managed a smile and humorous comment and I remember
thinking 'what an amazing man'. Focused, determined, in pain, but still
capable of humor.

Things were going along relatively well for the next few miles, along the
dirt road, and then we dropped down onto the beach. An 8 kilometer stretch
of beach was in front of us. Pitch black, the breaking waves reflecting
silver light from the far street lights, black water sliding up the sand,
silver froth at the edge, the sound of hooves hitting the sand and the feel
of the powerful horses. wow.

Then we lost the rider from Qatar. Farod's horse seemed to be getting more
and more excited as we galloped along the beach. He was gripping the reins,
not giving the mare relief from the pinch of the bit, driving her to fun
faster. He was trying to keep her behind Miguel and I, but I'd see them dart
off to one side, pull her in, dart off the other way, pull her back in.
Finally she darted out and kept going. A few English words, a few Arabic
words, the tight sound of fear in his voice, and then he vanished into the
dark.

Not a word from either Miguel or I, just silent winces, and keep on going.
Hopefully she'll slow down when she catches the other horses....  A few
minutes later a small wet figure, standing next to a dancing horse,
materialized out of the dark in front of us. He and the mare had run into
the ocean... parting ways in the waves. Farod! we stopped, he was glad to
see us, and we glad to see him. But still hardly a word was spoken (at least
intelligible words) and he finally managed to get back on the mare. Now
Farod had plenty to say. He couldn't control the horse. 'Could we walk
please Boss? ' 'Wait please, don't go, I can't stop her'. Miguel tried to
tell him how to manage the mare, don't hang on her mouth, pull and
release... but he couldn't. We finally managed to ride with Farod wedged in
between and behind us, the mare boxed in between Tigre and Gordita. It was
slower progress, and Miguel's tight face expressed his pain, and his
frustration. This was Miguel's race. He wanted the win, and he had a horse
that could possibly do it, Insh'allah. Still, he was kind and patient,
talking to Farod, trying to help him through.

We weren't even half way through the first loop... let's hope things get a
little better. We cruised along the beach a little more, then headed back up
to the dunes. I though we were going to lose Farod again when we turned up,
but he managed to circle her around and tuck her back in. We rode through
the dunes for a while. Totally black now, no street lights, only the
shimmering stars, the Southern Cross. Miguel had a bright headlamp on,
otherwise it would have been impossible to find the trail. I had assumed the
trail would be marked with glow sticks like we do in the US - but there was
very little. And occasional red blinking light, but so few and far between
that without a light, or without knowing exactly where the trail went from
experience, it would have been impossible to follow, at least with any
speed.

We had a few moments of relative peace, the horses settled down, just
working steady now. But a group of riders caught up with us and the lights
and shadows from behind got the horses stirred up again. Spooky dancing
shadows, horses passing, being passed. Pretty tense riding. And concern for
Miguel, one eye on Farod and his mare to make sure they stayed put... very
tense. Gordita was moving nicely, but still required a lot of concentration.
We came out of the dunes, crew areas, dogs barking, lights from houses off
in the woods, the horses were jumpy, and good lord so was I!  We had a
stretch along the highway next, juggling positions with a bunch from Brazil,
good footing, galloping, easy easy easy, relax... the horses were headed
back to camp now.

The vetcheck was pretty wild - still the dark of night, lights, water,
activity, horses calling. Usually there's great relief coming in off the
first loop, making camp, cheery greetings at the vetcheck - but this felt
just as tense as the loop. The horses all vetted in fine, Miguel's family
was anxious to help him, tried to improvise a sling from a couple bandanas,
but that just made it worse. Best to keep the hand in the pocket, and ride
with the arm pressed against his side. Tigre was fine, there was no talk of
stopping.

(next - getting through it)



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