Gold Country Ride - Yay (long!)

[Lucy Chaplin Trumbull <elsie@calweb.com>]

Me being me, and being filled with the wonderousness of it all,
this write-up got ludicrously long. If you're a seasoned endurance
rider, you'll probably be bored to tears. If you're a newbie, 
you'll probably also be bored to tears... Oh well. Read and 
enjoy - it's raining here anyway.

* * * * 

No-one told me that, mostly, what you do before and after a ride 
is feed the horse. All day and all night, that's all we seemed to 
do. Horse thought it was wonderful -  instant yummies every
time he looked a bit bored. Much more gooder than when he's at
home and just gets pellets and that cruddy, boring ol' grass hay...

Yesterday we did the Gold Country 30. It was my first ever ride
and Provo's 3rd (he'd already done a 25 and a 50 a couple of 
years back with his previous owner) and it went beautifully.

I'd formulated this really good plan about camping well away from
the start line and then ambling up to it several minutes after
everyone else had left, so that Provo wouldn't get all excited 
and competitive from seeing the other horses milling about. This 
plan failed miserably when I arrived late (predictably) and there 
weren't any spaces left in the camp - except one *right by* the 
start line at the entrance of the camp. Sigh.

As it turned out, it didn't matter. He stood on his picket line,
watching interestedly as all the 50s came through and started.
Patrick took him to walk around about 15 minutes before we were
due to start at 7:30 (half an hour after the 50s) and he was
most attentive. Patrick doesn't walk too fast with his ex-broken
leg, so it's important that Provo walks slowly and doesn't trample 
him. And he didn't - he walked around nice and slow and paid 
attention. Maybe he's like me - the more hyped he gets, the
more he shuts down... I couldn't even concentrate on a six item
shopping list the morning before the ride.

But I was endlessly proud of him - this was a horse who had few 
manners, no brakes, and was incapable of going along without 
having his head up in the sky and his back hollowed. He wouldn't 
stand still to be mounted. He wouldn't stand still to be tacked 
up. etc.. you get the picture.

We set off about five minutes after the pack, mostly just because
we were fiddling around and, despite being 20 foot from the start
line, just didn't quite get around to starting until then. 

I was riding with Ann Blankenship, who's been chaperoning
me since mid-July. Many thanks to her for stupidly suggesting
to me at some point "hey, you could do Gold Country" and then
agreeing to help me condition for it (next time she'll keep quiet).

Eternal thanks also goes to Patrick for getting up at 5am to
feed the pony yet more beetpulp, and for talking me into wearing 
his horrid yellow rain slicker thing. I hate those coats -
all crunchy and rustly - and I was doing my best to think of
excuses as to why I shouldn't wear it. Eventually, I ran out
of excuses and had to go and put it on. Without it, I would
have been absolutely SOAKED (instead of very damp) and miserable.
It rained for five and half of the six hour ride. Sigh.

But it was wonderful. The first part of the trail is narrow single
track through some bushes. Slight problem when the lady in front
of us's horse wouldn't go, then Amtal, Ann's horse, decided he
didn't fancy it either, so Provo had to be brave trail blazer.
He managed a whole 20 foot at a casual walk (much to my 
excitement - "hey, this is going to be a doddle, if he's like
this for the rest of the ride"), and then went into his normal
"I can prance and jig, yes I can!" mode. So we carried on a
a nice jig (not) until the road crossing (at which point the
lady who'd started with us had had enough and passed and left)
and then let them go. 

At this point I briefly saw Kimberley Price - or more to the
point, saw the back end of Kimberley and Mystery as they 
shot by. I was too busy concentrating on making sure Provo's
back end wasn't pointing at them as they came past, to realise
who it was until she'd gone. (I never did work out where you
were in camp, either, Kimberley)(Patrick met them in camp also,
and I was trying to shuffle over to say hello, but was on
one leg trying to adjust a shipping boot, and by the time I
was on two legs, she'd gone).

Anyway, off we went. No one in sight and luckily Amtal and Provo
seemed to have forgotten about the other horses who'd just
come past, so we actually progressed forwards in a sensible
manner for about 8 miles. Provo stopped jigging and started
trotting like horses are meant to. I got to knot the reins
and only needed minimal checking when the rivalry between
him and Amtal got too much for them to bear (you can almost
hear them muttering under their breath "I can go faster
than him... just watch me... I can go faster...").

Fire road turned into single track. Single track turned 
into overgrown single track (keep your head down by the 
mane and hope for the best). And the rain continued to
come down. It wasn't too cold though, so it kept us nice
and cool.

At about ten miles, a junior rider on a very sweet bay
overtook us, and Provo spent the next 3 miles trying to
catch her.

"...but, but, Mum, she came *past* us!"

"I know dear, it doesn't matter"

"...but, Muuuu-uuum, she's getting awaaaaay"

"I know sweetie, but it isn't important"

"...but Mum (you idiot), horses overtaking isn't allowed... 
lets gallop!!!"

"er, no Provo, no... er, trot, er TROT, TRROOOOOOOTTTTT!!")

Finally got him under control again - he has this great 
trick of waiting until we're on a downhill lumpy section
and I'm completely off balance, flipping his head and 
taking off. I'm getting better at managing this, slowly.

At 13 miles, there was a dismount and trot-by check. Well,
that was the idea, anyway. Trouble was, after 13 miles,
my knees weren't really up to shuffling, let alone running
next to a trotting horse, so I stalled as long as I could, 
by which time Ann had trotted Amtal down, and Provo was 
looking most miffed that they were leaving without us. So 
off we trotted - Provo flying along and me kind of  
waddling behind him. He trotted out fine.

This was a great relief, because at the vet-in the previous
afternoon, the vet had expressed some concern over his
left front suspensory. It was tender, mostly because Provo'd
been interfering during the previous weekend's ride (as soon
as I realised what was going on, we'd started riding in boots
and that solved that problem). It was also tender because 
he'd tripped up on his way into the vet check and knocked 
one spot once again, so it was bleeding (this horse is not 
the most graceful when it comes to moving). Vet had told me 
to keep a very careful eye on him and make sure that he 
wasn't off at all. 

We stood in the rain for about 15 minutes trying to persuade
the horses to drink, but all Provo wanted to do was tuck into
the alfalfa hay ("Mmmmm, don't get this at home, yum..."). At 
least it was soggy. Then we scrambled back on again - onto 
soggy sheepskin saddle cover. Euuuw.

Off for another ten miles. This whole trail was a bit
blurry. I know we got bunched up at one point with some
other people (including the junior on the bay, much to
Provo's smug satisfaction) and managed to get ahead of
everyone until we came to an unmarked intersection. This
was the only ambiguous spot on the whole trail - the
rest was beautifully marked - and had to try the left 
hand trail for markers before turning back and taking the
right hand one. In the process, we all got bunched up 
again and a few riders came past us.

At one point we came across a woman coming back in the
opposite direction. She was most unhappy at a hill coming
up and said she didn't want to subject her horse to that.

It was interesting, to say the least. They called it Snowy
River. Kind of vertical. Very long. And had very dodgy 
footing on it - a choice of pointy, but relatively solid 
shale, or loose rocks. Not a hill you would consider 
going up without a breast collar.

Going up steep hills is Provo's specialty though, and
off we went. The trick is persuading him to stop half
way up, though, to rest, because he always thinks he
should do the whole hill in one go. We managed to stop
a couple of times (not many places to stop safely) for
them to puff and Provo's whole body was shaking with
the effort. But he's a brave, plucky horse and we got
up fine. 

The vet check was at the top of this hill, and I was
ecstatic when Provo's pulse was down to 60 within
about four minutes of coming in. All he wanted to do
was scarf down the goodies they had at the check -
alfalfa, bran mash, carrots, apples, yum stuff. They
also had tons of horse blankets which was great, 
because without them, we would have been in trouble -
it was still raining and cool. They had people to hold
the horses. Their people-snack lady actively chased me
around and tried to force me to eat her goodies (me,
who thought I was doing well because I'd eaten a whole
banana *and* a baby carrot that morning)(I was supposed 
to be giving the carrot to Provo, but he started trotting 
without my permission... too bad... his loss, my gain... 
<g>). A most excellent vet check. Especially when Provo 
got A, A, A, A, A for everything and P&R-ed at 40/12.

We stayed quite a while (after playing duelling pulses 
between Amtal and Provo to see who would come down 
faster - Amtal has more bulk at 16 hh, but he also has 
a better base on him, having done top ten 50s. Cindy 
Larkin was doing courtesy P&Rs, so she humoured us),
letting the horses munch and generally whiling away the 
time. We weren't in any hurry and Provo was doing his 
starving ethiopian impersonation.

Eventually we trudged out, leading the ponies, got on for
half a mile or so, before coming up against a section we
had been warned out. The trail we were on is used by 
motorcycles, so is mostly set up for them. This particular 
section was quite steep and sandy, so there were a 
load of cinder blocks set on end into the ground. Great 
for m/cs, but not so good for horses. So we hopped off 
and walked that section. Once again, I was proud of 
Provo. He listened to me and avoided standing on me 
and went slowly down the steep hill.

That is, until 2nd place 50 miler, Vicki Testa, came up 
behind us, at which point his competitive spirit came
over again and he thought we better hurry up. Managed
to get him off the trail to let Vicki past, and got 
down the hill without being trampled to death.

This last section I think was the prettiest of the whole
ride. Leafy canyon with the trail winding switchbacks 
down to several little creek crossings. Then back up a 
gradual climb to the final vet check at 28 miles.

This was the stupid one. Provo looked full of beans. 
He was still quite capable of jigging. Still racing
with Amtal ("yes I can, yes I can, yes...") and still
bounding up the hills. The people at the vet check
laughed at him because he didn't look like he'd done
anything. He got yet more As on his card. It was cool 
(even though the sun came out!), so no grimy sweat, 
so his pearly white coat shone. How embarrassing.

I, on the other hand, was a little wobbly around the
edges, but still functional, which was the whole idea.

We vetted through fine (42/16)(had to persuade Provo not 
to stop to eat the nice alfalfa someone had kindly put at 
the far end of our trot out). Had to adjust one of his 
boots that had slipped down and filled with small
rocks and cause yet more small rubs. Sigh. Many thanks 
to Karen Chaton for telling me to take along desitin - 
it now lives in my saddle bag.

And then we trotted the last 2 miles. Patrick said as
we came in, the people around the finish line said that
we must be 50 milers because we were moving too fast to
be 30 milers. A boy at the finish line asked if Provo
was a stallion ("No, but he'd like to think he was").

Wonderful.

The only bad bit came at the end. The sun was out, so
dumbo here decided to sponge some of the grime off 
Provo - yup, around his loin and butt. Big mistake (and
one that won't be repeated). Instantly the sun went in 
and despite blanketing him, he started to get cold. We 
fed him yet more beet pulp and took him to the vet check. 
Unfortunately, there was only one vet on hand and he was 
vetting the top ten 50 milers as they came in. 

We ended up waiting for over an hour in the end, by 
which time it began to pour with rain. The line grew 
longer and longer, with soggy, cold, miserable looking 
horses. Provo, already cold, shivered harder and harder. 
We ran about, grabbing what we could to get him covered
and warm. By the time two new vets arrived from other 
checks, it was hailing. 

But they were great, and started checking horses at about
50 mph and cleared people as quickly as they could, which 
was wonderful.

The poor junior (Carolyn Finston, I read in the results)
with the sweet bay was really worried - she wasn't sure 
her horse would pass because she was shivering so badly 
- despite two blankets, one of which was pulled up over 
the horse's eyes. But I'm sure the vets understood the 
situation.

So much for the idea of sitting in the sun, passing the
time of day after the ride. 

Even once we'd vetted through, we had to faff around. 
We stashed Provo in Ann's trailer temporarily to get 
him out of the rain. Our trailer wasn't hooked up (not 
enough space to park it where it was, with the truck
attached), so we had to hook that up and move it to a new
location. Much more faffing around, before we could get
him out of their trailer (so they could go home - half
an hour away) and into ours. He was still shivering, so
we added some beach towels and bed blankets to his blanket
and left him with a ton of hay and yet more beet pulp. 

Eventually, we managed to stagger down to the supper put
on by the ride (really yummy!). 

Met Kat Myers (what a friendly lady!) with Blue, who was 
scarfing down his hay. She and her friend (sorry, never got 
her name) had had a wonderful time doing the 50, despite 
getting poured on, and having to slow their pace down
because the trail got slippery.

On the whole, the initial rain had helped the trail 
dust-wise. In some places it made for very nice footing.
In a couple of places it was a little slippy.

Also saw Judy Long and Nick Warhol. Looks like Nick came
in 9th, with Judy in 23rd, so I guess they had a good
time.

Ride awards were really nice water bottle holders and bottles.
(goody, goody, this means I can carry yet more water on the
trail).

As reputed, the Gold Country Endurance Ride club people were
wonderful and cheery.

As reputed, the ride was tough up and down, with lots of
interesting drop offs (especially interesting when, at 
one point, Amtal stumbled and his back legs went over the
edge. Gulp).

And Provo performed far above my expectations. I'd wanted
to complete the ride without feeling like I'd died and
without the pony looking stressed. Having him come in
looking like he'd not done anything at all wasn't exactly
it, but much, much better. And I didn't feel dead either - 
I was kind of on autopilot though (feed horse, take off 
tack, feed horse, get horse warm, feed horse, inspect 
horse, feed horse...). 

Hmmm. So what to do next? Do I do more 25s, but do them without
a Provo-chaperone, to see how we deal with it on our own, or
try for a 50 and hope we find similarly paced people along
the trail to hook up with now and again? I've got all winter
to mull it over. Not going to any winter rides. Oh no. I was 
the one who said I'd never do a rainy ride. What would be the
fun in that?

I'm off to unload the fifteen tons of "wet stuff" from the front
of the trailer. Euuww.
-- 
**************************************************************
Lucy Chaplin Trumbull - elsie@calweb.com
Repotted english person in Sacramento, CA 
http://www.calweb.com/~elsie

with Mouse and Provo
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