My very first ride was Big South Fork, in 1999. I showed up in my
jeans and western saddle on my Arab who had been given to me off the
track. I had ridden once or twice with a girl, Debbie Triplett, who rode
endurance, and she had told me my horse would have no trouble doing a
LD. AND that folks--- is all the knowledge I had. I didn't even know
endurance existed and I was just finding out how great Arabians were and was
wondering where the heck were all these Arabians when I was a kid and running
the legs off all my horses. So I enter the race, the vet, I think it was
Otis, almost didn't vet me in because my horse wouldn't let him touch him.
I hung back at the start in total awe of all the beautiful Arabians and started
behind the mid pack. That was probably my last totally in control
moment. My perfectly calm, well behaved, trail horse turned back into a
racehorse. He would respond to turning but would not stop. We
passed people, apologizing as I flew by, then they would pass me as I would be
circling in the wide spots. He rushed over a little wooden bridge so
fast he went right over the side into a bog. I reached over and
smacked him hard on the neck and he took one jump and landed back on the
bridge. People were yelling out advice and mostly it was to let him go and
quit fighting him. I thought these people are nuts he will literally fly
down these trails and around those corners. Surely, sane people don't go
that speed, dodging trees, flying thru the woods! Finally, I wised up and
turned him back against the traffic. To hell with these crazy people, I
was going home. About that time a group of women from somewhere in Georgia
come trotting towards me. One offers her horses butt to me for a brake and
talks me into staying in the race. I think she had probably dealt with
this problem before now as her horse was calm as a cucumber with mine breathing
right down his butt for miles until the vet check. As luck would have
it my horse vetted right thru and I was told to get going and follow those
ribbons to the finish. By now there wasn't much traffic so I was able to
hold him to a lope for that loop. I finished, came home with my tail
beneath my legs, and loudly told anyone that would listen how I would never
do endurance again, those people were all nuts and that I had probably
ruined my horse. AND I was having a whole lot of trouble walking and
stairs were impossible. Well, that was then and this is now. Two
years later my niece gets back into horses after finishing college and nursing
school and begs me to take her to an endurance race. I give her that damn
horse to ride and away she goes with me just barely hanging on, right behind
her. Still tailgating but starting to figure it all out. I
really think had that lady not talked me into staying in the race and allowed me
to tailgate and therefore to finish the race I would never be doing endurance
today. After all the pain went away I started remembering the people
and all those beautiful horses and then I discovered ridecamp and asked for
advice on how to deal with my runaway and I started experimenting with different
bits. Now both my nieces ride, they even do 100s (she's still riding
that same horse), my 60 yr. old sister competes and my 25 yr. old son. So
I guess this tailgater is here to
stay. Linda
Norton
