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
