If the short version was enough for you, just
delete these ones. I've split the origional email into two parts, as the
previous exceeded the word limit. Anyway, here's the first
part!
We finally got to Robie Park 3 hours later than
anticipated. Not many places left to camp. My husband ended up moving our small
rig while Tara & I went to the junior meeting with horses in tow, then to
get vetted. We were directed to "the meadow" for the junior meeting, then when
we got there were told, no meeting here, it's usually up there. We went back up
there (that's where we started) and were again told "it's in the meadow" and
this time someone took us to where it was supposed to be. Nope, not there, went
back up again, and finally found it. Some wonderful volunteer took the horses
& tied them to a tree while we attended the meeting.
We ended up camped in another "meadow" which I
thought was "the rock quarry" and my back felt like it the next morning. Horses
stomping/pacing (not mine) and munching (mine) all night long, listening for the
bear that comes every night, and mats that are a bit too thin for hard, uneven
ground meant about 2 hours of sleep. I was relieved to finally have to get up at
3:15, but very discouraged when the nerves in my back started causing spasms and
sending pain down both legs. I decided I'd just have to buck-up (I hate that
term) and get on with the ride.
We had planned to be in the middle of the middle
group of riders, so rode out to the start in the dark arriving in time for that
position. I didn't know that there was basically no end group, so we were more
towards the end of the starters. The start was uneventful for us and we were in
awe of the beauty in the mountains as dawn came upon us.
We had heard how treacherous "the bogs" were and
luckily came upon Marilyn McCoy and Heidi Vanderbilt from Arizona who
both had experience getting through them. We happily followed along, we thought
without any problems. The bogs were nothing like I had imagined. I had imagined
long 200 yard long sections of trail that was like quicksand with watermelon
sized boulders in it to catch the legs & lame up the horses. Instead, they
were merely mountain run-off streams, occasionally crossing the trail, with
some boulders in them. We got through without any falls or slips, so thought we
had it made. I'd told Tara before the ride, "if we can make it through the bogs,
we have a chance of completing". The first check after "the bogs" is where
Shadow was off, and an injury to her fetlock was detected.
Tara wanted me to go on without her. It was hard to
do, and it was lonely for both me & my horse, Storm. He basically lost his
drive. He's NEVER done that before. He just kept stalling, turning back and
whinnying constantly. Every time we came upon another horse, he'd whinny &
whinny and want to stay with them. He even did this when he saw the photographer
and some campers (or maybe they were volunteers out on the trail). Anyway, we
never even saw Cougar Rock, but I was enjoying the awesome views (between tears)
along the way. Oh, did I mention the biting vampire flies? They were viciously
feeding on poor Storm's neck & shoulders, causing him to constantly sling
his head down to rub on his legs for about 5 miles! That also slowed our
progress quite a bit.
