Ridecamp: [RC] 1886 Endurance Ride Story--Texas to Vermont

Oh, you lucky people!  I just bought a scanner.

Below is an account of an 1800 Mile Endurance ride
that was run in 1886.  I found this in a copy of the
April, 1940 issue of _The Vermont Horse and Bridle
Trail Bulletin_, the official publication of the Green
Mountain Horse Association (founded in 1926). 

Linda B. Meirms
lbm@xxxxxxxxx
Massachuestts, USA


1800-Mile Trail Ride--Texas to Vermont

By Frank Hopkins

INTRODUCTION by Harvey Wingate

I wish all of the members of the Green Mountain 
Horse Association could have been with me when I 
spent an evening with Mr. and Mrs. Frank Hopkins, 
of Long Island City and Laramie, Wyo., who has 
written this story of one of the greatest rides 
ever held in the United States. This ride started 
at Galveston, Tex., and finished at Rutland, Vt., 
and was, undoubtedly, one of the longest 
endurance rides on record in this country. Mr. 
Hopkins is now over seventy five years of age, 
and during his life has competed in 402 endurance 
rides, most of them being races. He lost only one 
of this number and that proved, afterwards, to 
have been crooked.

He has performed trick riding stunts before all 
of the crowned heads of Europe and gave a command 
performance, with only one Indian companion 
before Queen Victoria. This exhibition was given 
on a new lawn at Windsor Castle and you can 
imagine what two wild ponies did to that lawn in 
two hours of rough riding. However, the Queen 
told him to forget the lawn as it could be 
replaced.

Frank Hopkins is the only white man to ever 
compete in the "Thanksgiving Day" 3,000-mile ride 
in which only Arabs were supposed to participate 
and he also won that ride.

I wonder how many of us could ride in a Wild 
West Show for two hours every day for two years. 
That is what Mr. Hopkins did for two World's 
Fairs in Europe.

While a dispatch rider, he was shot seven times 
and bitten three times by rattlesnakes. He has 
shot several outlaws for the Government, 
including the very bad Tracy for whose killing he 
refused a check for $3,000 given him by the 
Governor of the State of Washington. He speaks 
the various Indian dialects fluently and was a 
friend of Sitting Bull, Big Foot and many other 
famous Indian chiefs.

His patience and native ability have enabled 
him to train horses other people could do nothing 
with and even today he can train them very well. 
He loves horses and good horsemanship and has had 
many a fight with men who used cruelty, in place 
of training, to make a horse do the proper 
things. Some day Mr. Hopkins will write us an 
article on the training of horses-he has promised 
me that he will. I wish to thank Mr. and Mrs. 
Hopkins for a grand evening and for this story.--
HARVEY P. WINGATE.
-----------------------------------------------


     To one who loves the great outdoors, there 
is nothing quite so interesting as a Trail Ride. 
It makes little difference whether you ride the 
sage covered plains and foothills of the far West 
or the rugged hillsides of the Eastern States. 
There is something fascinating about such a ride-
the falling leaves moving about your horse's 
feet, the squeaking of the saddle leather beneath 
you. The busy horse seems to enjoy covering the 
trail fully as much as his rider. There is new 
scenery for every mile you cover, but in the 
distance will be a beautiful hill covered with 
green spruce or sugar maples, with their autumn 
leaves of red and yellow, you will be anxious to 
get to. And when you do get to this spot, there 
will be another that looks more beautiful, 
beyond. As the day draws near its end, maybe you 
will see a glorious sunset dropping behind the 
far away hills. So you have come. to the close of 
the pleasantest day of your experience.

    Caring for your mount is part of the day's 
pleasure. As a dispatch rider for the Army during 
the Indian troubles on the Western Plains for 
nine years, I have known the thrill of many long 
rides. Some of these rides covered 200 to 300 
miles. My mounts were fed on wild buffalo grass. 
They got the best care I could give them, 
although the best could not be much. There was 
one class of horse I liked best and would ride no 
other but this, even though there were many fine 
looking mounts offered me-I refused all but the 
Indian pony, a hardy little animal, no trail too 
long or too rough-a horse that could get along 
without grain and go without water for two or 
three days at a time. Still the Indian pony has a 
weakness-the sound of the human voice will worry 
him off his feet. I never spoke to my ponies 
while up there in the saddle.

   There was one pony I shall always remember in 
particular and this horse will be remembered long 
after I have crossed the last canyon. I called 
him "Joe." He was given to me by a man who 
believed him a hopeless outlaw. This horse was 
still in the horsetrap where he had been caught 
as a wild Indian pony. I broke him in the trap; 
four months later I rode him on the buffalo runs. 
When "Joe" became used to the crack of the gun he 
was the best buffalo horse I ever expect to hear 
of. He could stay with a run of buffalo till they 
were shot down and then race off after another 
run; he could lope off all day without dropping 
back into a walk. "Joe" was not fast, but he 
could wear other horses off their feet in a few 
days. I rode "Joe" from Galveston, Tex., to 
Rutland, Vt., the year 1886. I had been carrying 
messages for General George Crook during the 
Geronimo campaign down in Arizona. "Joe" was used 
in my string and when I was relieved from duty I 
rode him from Fort Apache, Ariz., to Fort 
Laramie, Wyo. On reaching there, I was told of a 
ride from Texas to Vermont. Buffalo Jones agreed 
to finance me if I would sign to ride in that 
race. Three days later I was booked at Fort 
Russell and started training "Joe" for the long 
Trail Ride. In three months, "Joe" was in the 
best of shape-fifty miles a day, three days each 
week, without a bandage on his legs or artificial 
courage (such as stimulants) of any kind. I 
allowed him, to travel as he wished, not trying 
to force him to any particular gait; he preferred 
to lope or a flat-footed walk. Trotting was out 
of the program with this little stallion. Most of 
those wild ponies can lope along without much 
action-that is, they clear the ground and put 
their feet down very lightly. "Joe" had carried 
me on many long rides. I was sure he would reach 
Vermont ahead of the other mounts. Some of them 
were of the thoroughbred blood. I watched them 
exercise for a week while we waited down there in 
Texas. Fine looking horses they were, but too 
snappy and nervous to start out on a long ride of 
that kind.

  On the sixth day of September, 1886, we started 
from the Old Point Ferry Slip, Galveston, Tex. 
There were fifty-six riders in all-some were cow-
boys, others cavalrymen and six were bridle path 
riders (I was amused to see them bobbing up and 
down on their small flat saddles for I had never 
before seen the English type of saddle). All of 
the riders left me at the very start. "Joe" never 
cared about racing away with the bunch; he would 
just put one foot ahead of the other all day and 
never seemed to tire. The first day of that ride 
"Joe" was a little sluggish, which I thought 
might be due to change of drinking water. I did 
not urge him on, but after riding twenty-three 
miles, I called it a day. Under the rules of that 
ride you could ride ten hours or less if you 
wished. Each rider carried small cards that were 
to be signed and the exact time the rider stopped 
was marked on his card. This was done where the 
rider stopped and then checked by the judges. It 
was September 13 before I came up to the other 
riders. Four of those riding English saddles were 
in bad shape and their mounts were a sorry sight 
to look at-over in the knees and spread behind, 
their muscles trembled and twitched; those were 
out of the ride for good. The next day I passed 
twelve more tired horses. "Joe" was feeling fine. 
When I took his saddle off at the end of the day 
he would swing his head and let his heels drive 
at me. I always let him roll after taking off the 
saddle. This may .not be any good to a horse, but 
they all like to roll. On the 17th, "Joe" and I 
had passed the last horse and rider. We were in 
Mississippi where there had been a heavy rain and 
the yellow mud stuck to "Joe's" feet like soft 
snow, but he .would shake his head, jump and play 
at the close of every day.

  Our route was marked with red paint daubed on 
trees, fences and stones, so it was easy to 
follow. On this ride I weighed 152 pounds, my 
saddle blanket and slicker weighed 34 pounds; 
"Joe" weighed 800 pounds when we started the 
ride. I used a six-strand rawhide Hackamore 
without a bit. "Joe" did not like iron in his 
mouth--it seemed to worry him.
 .
  I got word from the judges when they caught up 
with me in the towns, that I was putting a lot of 
hills and valleys between me and the other 
riders, but I could not believe I had gained so 
much mileage. I had stopped to feed at mid-day in 
the town of Gallatin, Tenn. One of the judges 
stepped out in front of "Joe" as I was riding 
away and said, "You're riding against time now 
for there's not another rider within many miles."

  I do not think it is good to rest too long in 
the middle of the day. Some riders do rest their 
mounts two or three hours but I have learned that 
a long rest is not good for horse and rider will 
both get tired. One hour is plenty. And keeping 
your horse on his feet fussing over him and 
rubbing him after the day's work is done is not 
good. I always taught my horse to lay down and 
rest after I had rubbed his back with a damp 
cloth, and let him rest for two hours before 
feeding. I gave him a good bed where it was quiet 
and let him alone for the night. A good rubbing 
in the morning will make him feel fresh on the 
start of a new day. I might say that a horse that 
has plenty of endurance in him is not without a 
background-even "Joe's" ancestors were of the 
Arabian blood. The pedigree of a horse does not 
stand for much if there is no bottom or stemming 
in such an animal, although they get along in 
their own class and are thought quite a lot of. 
The real Morgan horse that I knew years ago was a 
very hardy animal, but those horses have been 
crossed with the thoroughbred from time to time; 
this crossing did that breed more harm than good 
for they neither look nor act like the old-time 
Morgan. Each breed of horse should be kept in its 
own class. If I tried to run any of my endurance 
horses on the race track they would be out of 
their class and if a running horse was entered in 
one of those long rides he surely would come to 
grief as it was proven on that Galveston-Rutland 
ride. "Joe" and I were in Rutland thirteen days 
before the second horse and rider arrived. That 
horse was broken down in spirit and body. The 
third horse came a few days later, a broken-down 
wreck. I weighed "Joe" the following day after 
arriving at Rutland and he had gained eight 
pounds onthe ride; he was seven years old at that 
time and I claim that it'is the best year of a 
horse's life--at least I have found it to be so 
with endurance horses.

  A large, heavy bodied horse with too much day-
light under him will not make an endurance horse 
for he will pound himself to pieces on the long 
run. I would not train a horse, for a long hard 
ride, that weighed over 1,000 pounds. He must be 
close to the ground and well muscled with a short 
back and neck-the horse with a long slim neck 
will tire quickly. Today most riders want mounts 
that stand 15 hands or more-that is the first 
thing they will ask-"how high does your horse 
stand?" There are many other things to look at 
besides the height of a good mount. Some horsemen 
will speak of a horse's color which, in fact, 
goes only the length of the hair.

  "Joe" was buckskin in color. When I rode him 
into Louis Butler's small stable at Rutland that 
October evening many men of the town gathered to 
look him over-more on account of his color than 
anything else for many of them had never seen a 
horse of that color. Although "Joe" had covered 
1,799 miles in thirty-one days, without a day's 
rest on the trip, many of those horsemen 
criticized his color. "Joe's" average per day was 
57.7 miles. I received $3,000 from Elias Jackson 
for that ride. Three weeks later I shipped "Joe" 
to Wyoming and bade farewell to those good people 
of Vermont. To me it was just one more long ride 
for my daily work had always been in the saddle. 
When I reached Fort Laramie, Colonel W. F. Cody 
was waiting for me. He wanted me to ride in his 
show, which was known as the "Buffalo Bill Wild 
West Show." I played in the first Madison Square 
Garden, New York, that winter and then went to 
Earl's Court, London, England, the following 
spring. In fact, I stayed with Cody until his 
death, 1917. I rode in many endurance rides 
through Europe. After the World's Fair in Paris, 
France, I visited Arabia and rode in a 3,000-mile 
race, using one of my Indian ponies who also won 
that race. That pony was spotted cream color and 
white. He was a stallion whom I named "Hidalgo." 
I left him in that country of fine horses, for it 
was there he belonged.






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