Oh my God... I just bawled like a baby... thank you for writing
that, although I'm sure you did it for yourself as much as for all of
us.
-Sharon Levasseur in Maine
-----Original
Message----- From: ridecamp-owner@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx [mailto:ridecamp-owner@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx]
On Behalf Of tom noll Sent: Monday, August 14, 2006 8:19 PM To: ridecamp@xxxxxxxxxxxxx Subject:
[RC] Tevis Winds
Greetings,
One hundred miles is the
signature distance of endurance riding and the Western States Tevis Cup
Ride is the signature 100-mile endurance ride. There are other rides and
other distances, but the Tevis Cup 100-Mile Endurance Ride is truly the
"Grand Daddy of them all." My horse Frank has a solid 100-mile record
and I always thought that he was a Tevis horse, but I never knew for sure,
until now.
Last weekend Frank and I ran the 100 miles of the Tevis
trail and the entire experience was incredible. The trail, the
veterinarians, the volunteers, my crew, the riders, and the horses, and
especially the horses, were all phenomenal. The ride was an
experience that I'll never forget. Emotion and passion runs along
side with the horses on the Tevis trail.
Three weeks before Tevis,
Frank and I ran the Big Horn 100 in Wyoming. We were registered for
Tevis but I was worried about pushing him too hard and doing too much in
only three weeks. I could not make up my mind after Big Horn.
On the last day to withdraw, I wrote to the Western States office
and canceled my entry. I wrote to my crew leader and told her that I
was out. And then, all weekend long, I agonized over my decision.
Finally, it was a post from Julie Suhr with an offhand comment about riding
the Race of Champions at Big Horn one year and then on to Tevis only a few
weeks later that crystallized my mind. On Monday I called the Western
States office and asked to be reinstated. Joann asked, "Tom Noll, are
you in or are you out?" and I replied to Joann, "Count us in." Frank
and I were committed.
I called my crew leader back and asked if she
would still help me. Jane answered with an enthusiastic yes.
Jane put me in touch with Vicki Testa and Vicki went over every mile of the
trail with me on the telephone. We were in and we were ready to
run.
I drove down to California on Wednesday and arrived at Robie Park
that evening. There were only a few riders at the park and I was able
to find an ideal campsite. More riders arrived on Thursday and by
Friday, Robie Park was bustling with activity. You can feel the
excitement in the air at Robie Park. Tevis is not just any
ride. All the riders know, that at best, only about half of them will
make it to Auburn and different riders have different strategies to improve
their odds. Some ride the trail ahead of time, while others trust
their horses to various potions and supplements. Frank and I rested and
bided our time until the start while we tried to relax.
Jane Switzer
and Jennifer Adam showed up and we discussed the crew activities. I
could not help but notice that Jane had a Badwater 2002 hat. We talked, and
Jane explained that she was the crew leader for a runner on the Badwater
Death Valley-to-Whitney, endurance run. Jane mentioned that Vicki
Testa and Kim Nunez, both Tevis finishers would help Frank and me
at Robinson Flat. That was when I really began to feel the
pressure. I had a world-class crew of endurance veterans and they
were all there for Frank.
Frank and I walked around Robie Park.
We saw the top riders, the top vets, and the top horses, including Galahad,
Monsieur Joseph, and the Outlaw Trail horses. Bogus Thunder was there
with the Halls. Barbara White and her horse were camped just down the
trail from us. Lucky and her appaloosa Romeo were there from the Big
Horn three weeks earlier along with Dave Rabe and Tom Sherwood who were
also at Big Horn. Frank was vetted in by Jim Baldwin. Jamie
Kerr was at the in check too. I told Frank that we were running in
the big leagues now. We were going to run in the footsteps of Ann
Trason and other endurance legends. I kept telling myself that once
out on the trail we would focus just like any other 100 but I knew that was
not true. This was Tevis, and Tevis is different from any other
ride.
Frank is a tough little horse who has never been pulled. We
both have the 100-mile trail experience and we both have the desire and
savvy to make it happen. Frank and I think alike when we are out on
the trail. We had primarily done multi-day rides for the past two
seasons, but I know that Frank has the speed and I knew that I would call
on that speed on the Tevis trail. So far, the winds of fate seemed to
be with us too. I felt prepared but more than a wee bit nervous and
unsteady as we walked among the giants around Robie Park.
We were
split into three pens for the start and Frank and I were in the third
pen. I would have preferred a different seed for the start, but
on reflection, I though that I could be comfortable starting with the
third group and that I would make the best of our placing.
After a
restless night we were up at 3:30 to get Frank ready and pack the rig for
the trip to Auburn. The stars were shining bright in a jet-black sky
and I could tell that it was to be a magnificent day. Frank and I
made our way down to the staging area for the start just before 5:00.
We walked in some big circles to warm up. Soon the third pen was
released and we were walking down the road. I was mildly surprised by
how many horses had red ribbons in their tails and I began to think that
perhaps there should be a fourth starting group for all the red-tailed
horses. The start went very smoothly, the horses were all very well
behaved, and soon we were running down the trail at a comfortable
pace.
Within the first few miles I was right behind two ladies who
could not get their horses over a small little ditch in the trail.
The two women were making a very big deal over their command of the trail
and emphasized that we should all stay back and give them plenty of
room. I'll admit that I would have been nervous on those horses
too. Frank and I were patient although the ladies could have saved
everyone, including themselves, considerable time and anguish and had a
better training experience had they just stepped aside and let others
pass. Some riders clocked the wasted time at over twenty minutes --
twenty minutes that were never to be regained that day.
After much
effort, the ladies got their horses through the ditch, but only a few yards
down the trail was another ditch and the process started anew with more
fidgeting, frustration, and commanding behavior. Frank and I
were loosing valuable time. Finally, the two ladies parted to
opposite sides of the trail and I directed Frank right between the two
uncertain horses and their uncertain mounts. As I passed between the
ladies I said, "Frankus, show them how it's done!" and we walked through
the small ditch and on up the trail never looking back.
We rode
along and on up through Squaw Valley. For the most part I was able to
ride alone until we got to the switchback tracks up through Squaw Valley to
the Sierra crest. We passed Cowman in his Cowman Hat near the top and
I let out a cowboy yell. We were on our way. Lake Tahoe was
behind us to the east and the Pacific Ocean was in front to the
west.
My experience through Granite Chief was perfect. Early on
the wilderness trail some riders had experienced some difficulties. I
stopped and asked if they needed any assistance. The downed rider
seemed to be a little shaken but I was assured that all was ok so Frank and
I continued on. After we passed those few riders I got off and ran
along with Frank because the trail through the wilderness is steep and
rocky. There was no one in front of us and there was no one behind
us. We crossed the Granite Chief wilderness alone at our own pace and
it was a true wilderness experience on a day on the trail with 200 other
riders. Somewhere along the trail I saw the biggest pile of bear poo
that I have seen in some time. Frank was unconcerned with the pile,
but to me it indicated that Granite Chief is still wilderness and the poo
pile did answer the age old question for at least one bear; "Do bears sh**
in the woods?"
We passed through the trot-by at Lyon Ridge and we came
to Cougar Rock. There was a short queue waiting for a turn on the
rock. Time was an issue and I opted for the Cougar Rock bypass
deciding that I would prefer a buckle in Auburn to a photo on Cougar Rock
if given the choice. Frank and I continued on to Red Star and then to
Robinson. We were later than I had hoped arriving into Robinson and
the tardiness was probably due to the delays early in the ride. I
began to feel the pressure of the cutoffs and that cutoff pressure would
continue unabated throughout the entire ride right up until we arrived in
Auburn so many hours later. In fact, I constantly worried about the
cutoffs. The cutoffs were like the Pinkertons chasing Butch and
Sundance in the movie -- they were always behind us, and plenty darn close
enough to be worrisome at that.
Frank passed the vet checks at Red Star
and Robinson with all As which was a pattern that would be repeated
throughout the ride. The two Tevis veterans, Vicki Testa and Kim
Nunez met us at Robinson Flat. We had a nice one-hour break and then
Frank and I were off on a new trail section. Our odds of finishing
went up dramatically with our successful passage through
Robinson Flat.
The riders who I rode with on the sections after
Robinson were veteran Tevis riders. They were joking about the WSTF
always adding more trail each year, yet the overall distance still remains
constant at exactly 100 miles. We talked that replacing fire roads
with single-track trail certainly made the course more difficult and time
consuming, but the character was closer to that of the historical Tevis
trail experienced in the 1950s and we agreed that the trail changes were a
good thing.
We made our way to Last Chance. Last Chance would be
our last chance for a nice break before the canyons. I paused for
about twenty minutes to let Frank eat and recover. The next twenty
miles of trail would be very difficult and I thought that a break now would
pay dividends later. We saddled up and began our descent into the
first canyon. It was down, down, down, to the swinging bridge at the
very bottom of the canyon. Chris Heron and I were off and leading our
horses on much of the descent. At Swinging Bridge I asked Chris to
lead across first in case Frank got nervous. Frank showed us his big
eyes but he remained mostly cool and collected on the bridge. We
crossed the Swinging Bridge and then began our ascent to Deadwood. I
could look across the canyon and see that we regained nearly all of the
elevation that we had lost since Last Chance. Frank is
a hill-climbing horse but these canyons are tough. Near the top I
looked into his big brown eyes and questioned myself whether it is really
right for me to ask so much of him. He is an awesome horse, however,
I need to respect his limits, and the canyons are very difficult.
We
stopped briefly at Deadwood and then began the traverse of El
Dorado Canyon, which was even deeper than the first canyon. Again, it
was down, down, down, to the creek. We passed by the points where
unfortunate horses had fallen from the trail on previous trips.
Seeing those places was so disturbing that I thought that if something
happens to Frank, I hope that I go along too, because I do not think that I
could live with myself after such an accident.
Again, some riders
were reluctant to yield the trail. The riders that I was riding with
were persistent and we passed on by. Again, we crossed El Dorado
Creek at the canyon bottom and then began our ascent to
Michigan Bluff. Again, it was another big climb and more questioning
myself about how much I can ask of my partner. Frank is a good horse
and he never faltered or wavered on the hills. We finally topped out
at the quaint townsite of Michigan Bluff. My crew was there and we
made sure that Frank had time to eat and recover. Again, all As on
the vet card and we were off to Foresthill. Frank and I saw some wild
turkeys as we were leaving the Michigan Bluff townsite.
Volcano
Canyon from Michigan Bluff to Foresthill is shorter and a welcome reprieve
from the previous two canyons. We quickly crossed the canyon and made
it to Foresthill around 7:30 in the evening. Frank passed through
the vet check with another set of As and we took our last one-hour
hold. My crew prepared Frank's tack with three glow sticks on the
breast collar and I had a little bit to eat. I noticed that Frank
seemed to slightly favor his right front while he was standing and we
trotted him out before leaving Foresthill. All seemed ok, so I joined
up with Chris Heron and we rode together along the streets of
Foresthill. It was Saturday night in Foresthill and people were out
enjoying the horses. We passed bars and restaurants as well as
private parties as we rode through Foresthill. Everyone wished us
well. Chris and I descended from Foresthill into the nighttime
darkness on our long trip to Franciscos.
Chris rides with a headlamp
while I prefer no lights. We enjoyed each other 's company on the
trail. We walked the steep sections and trotted where we could.
Sometimes Chris would lead and sometimes I would lead. I can
say there is no other experience like trotting your horse, in the darkness,
on an unfamiliar trail, after being out on the trail all day long.
The night trail is one of the very best parts of a 100 and I love the
feeling of trotting or cantering with my horse down a 100-mile trail in the
darkness.
The seventeen miles of trail to Franciscos took us a few
hours. Chris and I, Frank, and Impress, worked steadily up and down
and along the trail. Every now and then we could see through the trees to
the moonlight reflections on the Middle Fork of the American River.
Frank vetted through Franciscos with all As again. We paused at
Franciscos for a short break and then we were on to the river crossing at
Poverty Bar and on to Lower Quarry. The trail along the American River does
not get the attention of the canyons, still one slip along this stretch and
it will be a quick slide down to the river and someone is going to get
hurt. Chris and I passed up the opportunity for corn whiskey and rye
at the Poverty Bar river crossing. We took a very brief stop at Lower
Quarry and then we were out for the last six miles of trail and our final
destination in Auburn.
No Hands Bridge was surreal. I cannot come
up with words that describe crossing the bridge. I have seen the
photos of the bridge and I have read others' accounts, but I never quite
understood its significance. Today it is hard for me to look at
photos of No Hands Bridge without a lump in my heart and my eyes misting
over.
Leaving Lower Quarry, you can barely make out the bridge down the
river. In the nighttime darkness the silhouette of the bridge with
its big rainbow arches and old-style architecture is dark, eerie, and
almost foreboding. The bridge looms in the darkness down the river in the
canyon. You can hear the quiet rumble of rapids in the river.
You know that when you cross that bridge there are only four miles to the
finish and your whole awesome Tevis experience will soon be
over.
Frank and I were in the front as our little group made our way
down the trail switchback and then onto the bridge. Frank and I took
our time and we walked across the bridge even though one could easily trot,
lope, or even gallop across the span. The rider behind me said that
we could trot if I wanted. I was so emotional that I could barely get
the words out, but all I wanted was to walk and savor the whole
experience. Frank and I had traveled 96 miles on the most famous
100-mile trail. We crossed mountains and we had crossed
canyons. We had crossed rivers and creeks. We had run miles
of dusty, rocky trails. For a few moments, time stood still and it
was just myself and my horse and the Western States Trail as we crossed No
Hands Bridge together.
No Hands Bridge is a mystical spot on the
Tevis trail. The spirits of all the past Tevis horses ran with Frank
and silently guided him along the Tevis trail all day and through the
night. The breath of those Tevis horses formed the gentle winds of
fate that blew us steadily onward towards Auburn. The spirits of the past
Tevis horses visited us one last time on No Hands Bridge before they turned
the trail over to Frank; "Mister Frank, let's take it on home."
My
Tevis ride embodies everything that is great about endurance. Frank is
a wonderful partner and my best friend, the trail is very tough, the
Tevis volunteers were just as excited to be there as we were, the
veterinary staff was world-class, the camaraderie on the trail was
excellent, and strangers who I had never met before came together and
formed a perfect crew and kindly took care of my horse. I will
certainly return to the Western States trail but my 2006 Tevis experience
will never be repeated.