It's pretty much in our back yard, about a 90-minute-by-horse-trailer away, but the scenery is quite different: verdant foothills at 3000' in the mountains north of Eagle (near Boise) - rich grazing, multiple species of flowers (the lupines were about a week from blanketing the hillsides in purple), and gopher holes galore. It's mostly on private land that we are graciously allowed to use, and there are lots of volunteers who graciously help.

And did I mention the hills? Lots of hills. LOTS. Of HILLS. As in, you don't want to bring an unfit horse, or a pasture potato here. It's not called the Eagle EXTREME for nothing. (As opposed to an Eagle EASY.)

Snow topped the nearby peaks, and there was a layer of frost on the grass and on my sleeping bag and pillow before dawn of the ride.

By 4 PM on Friday, ridecamp was looking a little sparse, but it had filled up more by night, and there were a few riders still arriving in the morning. In fact there were only seven less riders than last year, so it was a decent turnout. It happened that there were more than a few riders with foot-sore horses that couldn't make the ride... perhaps it was the above-average rains we'd had this spring in the area that had something to do with it, because it seemed too many to be just coincidences.

Rhett and Mac sure were amped up before the start, so much that John was wondering if he'd stay on, and so much that we turned away from the starting line and trotted and cantered a quarter mile up the road. Jose was good as gold - not silly, just ready to go. (I love Jose!) As the riders started up the trail at 7 AM, we turned around - our horses more settled now - and trotted toward the start after them. Jose led the way until we got a half mile or so out, then Rhett took over.

Steph said we'd go slow today, but about all I remember of that first 17-mile loop was a blur! I couldn't tell you much about it except we passed more than half the field and Jose had to canter much of it to keep up with Rhett's big trot.

When we stopped for a drink at a water trough about 4 miles from camp, turned out John wanted to back off too! So we told Steph to go on - that competitive light was burning in hers and Rhett's eyes, and if Mac and Jose had each other, they wouldn't worry about Rhett.

And they didn't. Steph took off down the trail, and Jose and Mac just walked along. Only then I started noticing some of the scenery - but not gawking, because you really did have to pay attention to the footing. You could call it a technical ride, and it would be good to know your horse well. Just because he feels good and wants to go fast, you may actually know more than your horse, and know he needs to slow down, because on this ride, he was working hard, no matter how he might try to convince you otherwise or how easy he made it look and feel.

It was a pretty perfect morning - not too hot or cold. And the best thing about the vet checks (we'd have 3 today), the BEST thing about the WHOLE RIDE, was the buckets of horse Slop in the vetting area! Mac first discovered these at the Pink Flamingo ride last year, and he must have remembered, because he went right up to one and dove in. Jose followed him and was instantly infatuated. Two big buckets full of soaked oats, carrot and apple slices - the BEST! Oh, happy horses. Even when Rhett went back out on trail, crying for his buddies, Mac and Jose lifted their heads to look and whinny after him, but they did not budge from the Slop buckets. We had to literally drag them away from the Slop and to our trailer to eat some of their own food.

Tim Floyd, who was riding the 25, was back in camp - horse-less. He'd come off his horse on his first loop, well away from camp, and he and a friend hopped in their truck and trailer and went out to look for him. Tim didn't seem too worried, and he looked fine, but I heard later he'd broken some ribs! (He did eventually retrieve his horse, who was fine.)

The trails were marked quite well (although some riders did get lost... you did have to pay attention), mostly with spray painted arrows on the ground, grass, bushes, flowers, rocks. Ride managers Carrie Johnson and Trish Frahm had learned that cows eat ribbons, so the bright orange, yellow, pink, or blue spray paint worked quite well. There was only slight problem: the blue arrows were actually Horse-Eating Arrows. Jose let me know that, and he kept me safely away from them (even if I wasn't paying attention!) Jose doesn't spook at things, so I trusted completely his judgment on these blue Horse-Eating Arrows.

Jose pulsed down immediately back at camp for the 45 minute hold. Mac took a little longer. They both ate their whole way through the hold (especially the Slop!). They were less enthusiastic going out on the 13-mile loop 3 - we'd seen Rhett in camp and they had their crying weeping and gnashing of teeth over their separation again (though they still ate).

Finally we were headed homeward, and finally we reached the scenic canyon we'd passed twice today already. We trotted the couple of miles back in for our last 45 minute hold - with the Slop buckets! Jose's and Mac's mouths were always a mess in camp from the nostrils down. Jose managed to share a lot of Slop all over my shirt and in my hair.

I thought maybe we'd time it right so we'd be back out on the trail before Steph got back, but halfway through our hold, here came the winner of the 50, Jane Cunningham and Picadilly Grey. We thought Steph would be on her tail, and she might have been, if she hadn't blown a turn! The next three finishers, Martha McMurray, Patty Katucki, and Steph had missed the first turn right out of camp and had gone a couple of miles down the road before someone drove down and caught them and turned them around. Steph said a horse trailer that was driving out of camp was between her and the turn ribbons, and she was so focused on Martha ahead of her, that neither of them had noticed they hadn't been following any blue ribbons or spray paint for a while.

The geldings all had their Whinny Fest and expressed great relief at their brief reunion, and great sorrow at their separation again as we headed one last time.

Skyla Stewart, who was helping at the ride, told us to wet our horses down good before our last 8-mile loop: the first 2 miles were in a sandy wash - hard work and hot and a long climb. I told Jose I'd get off him and walk it.

Well, I didn't really want to walk in the deep sandy wash, because I had my hole-y shoes on (I do have a good pair of riding shoes, but I hate to wear them out, so I always wear my old ones), and I didn't want to get sand in my shoes. Whine! (And, OK, it's very hard to walk in deep sand, especially when you're tired.) However, as we started climbing a trail in less-deep sand out of the wash, I got off to walk, because I'd promised Jose.

In fact, try both of these things: get off your horse during rides, and jog with him up hills, or jog through sand for a while. Sure, he's a horse, and maybe he's fit, but this is still what he experiences, and you should always keep that in mind. Then go get yourself a backpack full of rocks that weigh at least 20% of your body weight. Then go jog up and down some hills. Burns your lungs going up, and hurts your knee and ankle joints going down, doesn't it? Just another thing to think about and be grateful for as your willing horse carries you up and down hills, through sand, over rocks, even while there are Horse Eating Blue Arrows and Attacking Cows out there, and the trail is booby trapped with leg-breaking gopher and badger holes right beside, and sometimes in the middle of the trail!

After the first few miles up in the hills, we descended back to the valley, and had a flat stretch back into camp. We heard a siren in the distance, and said "Gee, I hope that's not for our ride." As we crossed the main country road for our last few miles in to camp, we saw a fire truck parked on the road. Hmmm. As we trotted homeward, then we saw a sheriff's car, and ambulance, and another sheriff's car coming from the direction of camp - oh no! I didn't really want to think of what, or to whom, something might have happened.

And right when we saw the whites of Liz Smallwood's eyes, at the finish line with her clipboard - we heard trotting horses coming up behind us! Oh no! Run!

But we didn't. It was Tom Noll and the famous Frank (who, I am sure, DID have some opinions as to his placing - Frank, not Tom), and Lynne Frederickson. But they pulled up, and we all just kept walking across the line, finishing 8-9-10-11th, a full two hours behind the winner. Only 4 minutes behind us were Nance Worman and Chris and Kara Yost, which left just 3 more riders out on the trail. (Eight riders had pulled.)

Cindy Bradley stayed with Annerose while someone rode off for camp at a gallop for help. Annerose (who is in her 70's, by the way, with over 9000 recorded AERC miles, and her horse JAC Ginger has over 4500 miles, and "never spooks," someone said) was out cold for about two minutes, and, being hard-headed in more ways than one, eventually got back on her horse and rode on toward camp till she was met by a 4-wheeler, which took her to camp, where the ambulance took her on to the hospital.

When Cindy and Bo finally crossed the finish line to applause and cheers, (with 20 minutes to spare under the 12 hour time limit), Bo looked great, "like he could do another 50 miles!" I said. "That's because he had an extra 45-minute Annerose Carlile vet check out there!" Cindy said.

17 of 25 finished the 50, and 26 of 28 finished the 25. Not bad at all for a tough ride. Lee Pearce and JAC Mr Turner duplicated last year's Best Condition award in the 50 and Carolyn Roberts and Milly Ann Tucker won the 25 and got Best Condition.

THE DAY AFTER REPORT:

Our horses looked great, but boy am I sore! As in, a couple of days worth of sore. Hobbling, crippling sore. However, I did NOT take any Ibuprofen, before, during or after, the ride. : )

And Annerose thankfully is okay. But please people, wear your helmets!

Now go out there and thank and hug your willing horse today. (I already did, several times. Did I say already I love Jose??)

Merri

Results

50 miles

25 miles