The ride was serving dinner on Saturday night, BBQ or Turkey. Our crew
took the orders and went back for food as we depared for the next 16 miles
of trails. We were hoping that the 50 milers, sitting back sung and warm
in camp didn't pig up all the food. Because of trail marking (another
story) or poor navagtional skills, we got lost and it took us over 4 hours
to do the next 15 miles.
Needless to say we were very happy to see our crew with food at 95 miles.
Vetted in the horses and Karen wolfed down her BBQ and I wolfed down my
turkey and dressing. We had both ordered BBQ but they only had enough for
one plate (those damn 50 milers) left. Being the absolute gentleman I am,
I let Karen have the BBQ.
About 10 minutes down the trail it hit Karen and she spent a lot of time in
the woods during the last 5 miles. She would yell stop and jump off give
me her horse and run. Here I am holding a stallion and an in season mare.
It was lucky that we were all too tired to care! Anyway we made it back to
camp. Riding in Karen decieded that it had to be the pit crews fault and
she was not a happy camper. I learned a very important lesson, when you
send your pit crew for food the instructions are absolutely no BBQ!
Truman
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The race is not always to the swift, but to those that keep running.
Truman and Mystic "The Horse from HELL" Storm
prevatt@lds.loral.com
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