Moab Canyons Endurance Ride, Day 1

Hoss and I rode with Mary Ruebush and her young horse, Hadi. I had met Mary through the Ridecamp news group, when she posted needing a ride back to California for a horse she was selling. I had seen the post and responded, and we arranged that I would haul the horse back with me. We also arranged to ride together throughout the three days of Moab. She was riding her horse for his first fifties, and Hoss does better with a little motivation, so it worked out well for both of us. I also had the good fortune to get to sleep in the living quarters trailer Mary and her friend, Dorothy Sue, had brought. It was much warmer in there than it would've been in the tent!

Out to the East shortly after the start

We started out day one with prancy horses wanting to chase everything. We hadn't gotten far down the trail when a loose horse came racing up the trail at full tilt. Hadi sure jumped about it. Hoss dealt with it fairly well, giving Mary someone to use to stop Hadi.

The loose horse ran back to camp and we continued on our way. Hoss would not settle in to a walk, which of course means I couldn't let him trot or we'd just be out of control. I think it took something over a mile to get him to settle enough I could ask him to trot.

The landscape was beautiful. We wound around the base of a narrow mesa early in the morning, then around the back side on our way up to Wipe Out Hill.

Wipe Out Hill is a steep sandstone rock face we had to go up on Day 1. The four-wheel-drive people usually come down it. To give you an idea how steep it is, if you're driving down it, you can't see where you're going past the hood of your vehicle. The four-wheelers stick their heads out the window and look for land marks! Hoo! They must be insane.

The recommendation, understandably enough, is to lead horses up Wipe Out Hill. Mary got off Hadi and led him up without incident. This is one of those places where steel shoes would be an improvement over boots. The steel bites into the sandstone and sticks pretty well.

Hoss was in his boots. I started up, and the big problem is I'm slower than Hoss, so he tends to get sideways. Getting sideways on sandstone is a terrible idea. I heard him start slipping and turned to see if he was going to get stopped or if I was going to have to let him go. He managed to get himself solid. I gave him a moment to resituate himself and we continued up the hill. He made it the rest of the way just fine.

At the top we all got back on and continued on our way. The morning loop was 26 miles, and much of it was deep sand. Hoss doesn't see much deep stuff, and Hadi is still quite young, so neither Mary nor I was interested in going particularly fast through that part. Day 1 was 55 miles, so even at 26 miles to the vet check, the afternoon was going to feel very long.

Sometime after Wipe Out Hill

It took us the better part of five hours to make the vet check. Criteria was set at 64, something I've never seen. Hoss's heart rate came down effectively immediately. Yet another thing I've never experienced.

Hoss was still pretty chipper, but of course he really isn't built for speed. He can go at a steady trot, but it sure isn't a fast one. Hadi, however, is a young Arab and he goes fast. On the second loop we often found Hadi and Mary leading until Hadi felt he'd left Hoss too far behind, then Hoss and I would catch up when Hadi slowed down.

Things got better when we were caught up by another group of riders. Having more horses around motivated both Hadi and Hoss to get moving. We rode through another lovely canyon. After a time, we ended up getting separated from the other riders and were "chasing" other horses.

We finished somewhat later than we would have liked to. Hoss came right down to criteria when we came in. I was using the heart rate monitor on him, mostly for the sake of curiosity. I found it is somewhat inaccurate. It was reading 71 and the vet got 68. At the mid vet check, it was reading 64 and the P&R fellow got 60. So it's not perfect, but it's a nice tool to have.

Back at camp, I got Hoss untacked and rugged up and fed. I removed his boots. My feeling is they tend to get full of dirt, and I don't want him standing around with that on him over night. Additionally, when I've left boots on him overnight before, he's given himself wounds in his armpits. While I was removing the boots, I discovered I hadn't gotten the end of the hose clamp on his left hind boot sufficiently into the keeper. It had bent a bit. I was still able to get the boot off and had every confidence I could get it back on and wrestle the end into the keeper in the morning.

It's amazing how quickly time zips by when getting a horse taken care of. I cooked up a bowl of soup for myself and joined Mary and Dorothy in the trailer for the evening. We were all tucked in by 8:30pm, in preparation to do it all over again the next morning.

Driving to Moab

I had everything loaded and ready to go by 9:00am on Tuesday morning. Before I hooked up to the trailer, I decided I'd check the oil and fluids. I'm glad I did. I pulled the oil dipstick to find the oil level not only low, but dangerously low. I called my mechanics for advice and was told to bring it right in. Well, there went my plans for an early start!

The mechanics were concerned my truck might be leaking oil, and wanted to do an oil change before I left in any case. They inspected it and serviced it and had me on my way in about forty-five minutes. Of course, the shop is twenty-five miles from home, so it still cost me two hours to get it all done.

I got home and got the trailer hooked up. Hoss was loaded by 11:15am. The delay of our start wasn't huge, but longer than I would have liked. I really should have worked harder to get the truck in for service last week.

We struck out and made our way across the 8 east to Arizona and had our first rest stop in Yuma. It hadn't been four hours yet, but I had forgotten to top off the truck's fuel before I went back up the mountain and it needed fueling. I filled the tank, grabbed a Subway sandwich, and parked the trailer around the back side of the truck stop. The parking lot was paved rather than dirt. I found a parking space where I could tie Hoss to the trailer in such a way as he didn't have to deal with rigs backing in right next to him. They'd be backing in on the other side of the trailer from him, but they wouldn't be heading straight for him. I tied him to the trailer, gave him a bucket of water, and put his hay next to him. He wasn't terribly interested in food or water. He was way too fascinated by the trucks. He's never been that close to them. I sat in a chair and read while I ate my sandwich and kept an eye on Hoss. After an hour, I loaded him back up and we continued on our way.

The rest stops in Arizona have posted big signs saying "Unloading Livestock Prohibited." I thought about doing it anyway and arguing to anyone giving me a problem about it that he was a horse, not "livestock," but figured that probably wouldn't work, so I refrained from using the rest stops to unload in. This left truck stops. We made our next stop at a place near Prescott, Arizona. This one was kind of nice. I was able to get to a space with a street lamp and park so Hoss was protected and the rigs weren't going right by us at all. I got Hoss out and gave him a bran mash and water, then laid down in the bed I'd made for myself in the back seat of the truck.

I knew I needed to get a little rest, but my brain wouldn't shut down enough for me to sleep. I made myself keep my eyes closed for half an hour, then got up and walked Hoss around for a few minutes. I loaded him back up, then got gas and something to eat.

A couple hours later, I was tired, and it was clear I had to sleep and right now. Unfortunately by this point I was on back country highways with very little in the way of services. I finally managed to find a dirt lot next to a gas station with a bunch of rigs parked in it and was able to park there. I didn't want to unload Hoss and leave him tied to the trailer while I slept in a place where he'd end up dealing with a lot of traffic. I left him in the trailer, but gave him a bucket of water and set up a pan of beet pulp to soak. I slept a good four hours, despite being squished in the back seat of the truck.

When I was ready to hit the road again, I traded out the bucket of water for the pan of beet pulp and we got back on the road. I figured it wouldn't be long until I found a place to let Hoss out to stretch his legs. I couldn't have been more incorrect. I should have gotten him out before we headed back out again. We drove the rest of the way through Arizona and up into Utah before I found a place I could unload.

Driving through Arizona, in the city of Kayenta, I saw wild horses. In the city. A pair of bachelor stallions was grazing near a school, and a band of mares and youngsters was hanging out near the street by some homes. I wasn't able to get pictures. I couldn't get stopped and the pictures I did take came out blurry because I was trying to take them out of side windows instead of the windshield. As we drove on, I saw many more wild horses. There was one that had died a little ways off the highway. I don't know what it died of, but it didn't appear to have been hit by a truck. I even saw a couple of wild burros.

Driving into Utah, I saw some of the most spectacular scenery I've ever seen. I don't think I've ever been through that particular part of Utah. I know I've been there before, just not that area. Mostly I've visited the Four Corners area with my family, exploring the old Anasazi sites. We drove through part of Monument Valley. I took a bunch of pictures.

At one little town, I had to cross this teeny, narrow little bridge that looked more likely to dump us in the river than get us across it. I slowed way down to make sure there was no traffic coming the other way, as we'd take up most of the bridge all by ourselves. We crossed without incident but it sure made me nervous!

It wasn't until we were less than a hundred miles from ride camp that I found a place to unload Hoss in Montecito. I pulled into the big parking lot, found a space toward the back, and got him out. While we had been driving, I had begun to suspect the rain I was seeing was giving way to snow flurries. When I unloaded Hoss, I was sure. I immediately put his mid-weight blanket on before giving him more water and another bran mash. I cleaned out the trailer while he was out.

It wasn't much further to the turn off to ride camp. We had started encountering rain just outside Gila Bend, Arizona. The last time I'd looked at a weather forecast, it looked like the weather at Moab was going to be great, so I wasn't worried. Maybe I should've been. When I made the final turn off the paved road toward ride camp, I was stopped by a gentleman in a truck and asked to park in another campground. The road had become nearly impassable, and they were hoping it would improve some soon.

I parked in the campground and set Hoss up. I figured we weren't likely to be there terribly long before we were either moved to camp or camp moved (mostly) to us. I really didn't want to set up my tent and stuff, not wanting to do that twice. I was tired, though, so I crawled into the back seat and went to sleep.

After I'd been there a couple hours, the guy who'd stopped me tapped on my window and offered me options. I could either stay where I was until tomorrow, or he could haul Hoss and the trailer to camp while I followed. The issue at this point was the lack of four wheel drive on my truck. Well, I'm from Southern California. Where I come from the only people who really need four wheel drive are people who deliberately take their cars off-roading. We made it back to camp without incident. I probably could have made it myself, but it would have been a bit of a thrill in one area. I was just as glad for the assist, although I will admit it was very odd to be following my trailer with my horse in it.

At camp I found the nice ladies I was to camp with. I will be hauling a horse back to California that one of these ladies is selling. It was very cold, and the weather forecast was now calling for temperatures to drop to the 20s. I was very grateful to take up the offer to sleep in the living quarters trailer rather than in my tent!

Hoss was happy to be near horses again. He settled right down and started eating well. He vetted through just fine, although he was a bit silly. This was the longest haul he's ever done. I think he handled it well. In the morning we'll be riding with one of the ladies we're camping with and her young horse. Our plan is to pretty much be last.

I'm already happy I decided to do this particular ride.

*Don't ask where I took the pictures.  I don't remember.

Conditioning Ride 10-23-2011

HR: 40

Distance: 7.92 miles

Avg Spd: 5.3 mph

Time: 1 hr, 30 min

HRR: 80

HR 5 min: 56

I decided to take Hoss out for a good ride so I could get his heart rate monitor set up and exercise the dogs. Hoss has been a little on the goofy side in the pasture the past few days, so I figure whatever was going on with his left front foot has resolved. I also wanted a bit more of a test on his new boots than dancing around at the gymkhana.

I put Hoss's boots on and loaded him up. The Edges are definitely easier to put on than the Gloves. I also like the way they cinch down, especially on Hoss's hind feet.

The dogs hopped into the truck quite eagerly. We went to Hollenbeck Canyon for this ride. Close and quick and familiar.

When we arrived, hunters were preparing to head out. Okay, guess hunting season is open again. No problem, we can get through without hitting the area open for hunting. The hunters headed out while I was still fiddling with Hoss's heart rate monitor.

The heart rate monitor thing is not too complicated, but somehow reading the instructions all I get is that same sound Charlie Brown hears when an adult speaks to him. Of course, Charlie Brown understands those adults. I, on the other hand, do not get the instructions. I swear I read them through at least three times before I started making any sense of them at all. It helps that I've started using a heart rate monitor for myself while exercising. It gives me a basic knowledge of how they operate.

Once I got the little contact doo-dads stuck where they belonged and tightened up the cinch, I was able to get the watch to receive a signal and read Hoss's heart rate. Okay, cool. I was a little worried I wouldn't be able to tighten the cinch enough to hold the contacts in place, but that turned out not to be a problem. There's also a strap intended to hold the one against his side which is meant to be attached around the girth. Well, it's not big enough for my girth. So I had to rely on the girth itself to hold that contact in place. I was worried it would slip, but it does not appear to be a problem, at least on this short ride.

In order for the watch to receive the signal from the transmitter, they have to be within three feet of each other. As I wasn't completely ready and needed to step away, I strapped the watch to the saddle so I could go in the tack room. The watch comes preset with a heart rate range, and it beeps if the heart rate either exceeds or drops below that range. Since we hadn't started yet, Hoss was below the range, which meant the stupid thing kept beeping. Hoss was not fond of that beeping. I think he was okay with it so long as it was clearly coming from me, but as soon as I'd walked away and the beeping continued from his back, he was upset by it. His heart rate went up pretty rapidly and he kept trying to figure out where the hell the sound was coming from. Between that and the hunters and the mountain bikers who headed out before us, his heart rate was climbing quickly. So by the time I mounted up, his heart rate was already elevated to 80.

Hoss was definitely happy to be getting out. He trotted across the staging area and only slowed down to cross the cowboy gate. I pulled him to a walk, really wanting him to warm up the first half mile. A pair of riders coming back warned me about the hunters I'd already seen.

Once we crossed the now-dry creek, we headed off at a good clip. One of the mountain bikers had managed to end up behind us – not sure how that happened – and wasn't far ahead of us when we started moving out. He and his companions slowed down for the water crossing. Hoss did not. The mountain bikers managed to get ahead of us, but not by much. Hoss picked up the trot again before he was completely through the water, and the last mountain biker asked if we wanted to pass. I declined, pointing out they'd be faster than us when they hit downhills.

I was certainly not wrong about the speed of the mountain bikers. They hit the downhills and took off, leaving us rather in their dust. We cantered some, but Hoss wasn't really feeling it so much. I think he was still trying to figure out those hind boots. They are a bit wider than his feet, and he's always interfered just a little bit. With these boots, he must work a little wider behind than he's naturally inclined to. Our dressage lessons are improving his way of going, decreasing the likelihood that he'll interfere, so I expect this won't be much of a problem as time goes by.

Shortly after the mountain bikers got away from us, what should we encounter but the hunters. What the heck were they doing there? My understanding is they're supposed to hunt on the meadow side of the area, nearer the highway (I know, sounds stupid, but it's actually safer than where these guys were). I kept Hoss moving out to keep the dogs reasonably close. Mac had already headed up onto the hillside, into the area the hunters were clearly intending to use. I called him and got him back to me before we'd completely passed the hunters. I really didn't care if he'd bollixed up their plans by chasing off whatever they were after. Seriously, I don't think they're supposed to be hunted in that area anyway. It's highly trafficked by hikers, bikers and equestrians. Doesn't seem likely they'd allow hunters to use it so casually.

We hit the single track and I let Hoss slow down to a walk. I wasn't going for a record on this ride, just some exercise. I noticed as we went along that from time to time the watch would seem to lose the signal from the transmitter and would just read "0." A few minutes later I'd look again and it would be reading again. It never gave me a number I didn't believe.

When we were about halfway up the single track, the hunters started firing. Hoss is not gun broke, and has been exposed to gun fire only when he's been in the pasture. Whenever we've had to shoot something, he's been free to "run away" from the sound. As soon as he heard the gun shot, Hoss tried to take off. I pulled him back and calmed him. I really want him to learn it's not something he needs to be afraid of, and I suppose if we're going to ride at Hollenbeck during hunting season I'd better get him used to it in a hurry.

Trotting on up the hill, Hoss's heart rate stayed right around 135. Then we turned the corner and cantered up. I kept peeking at the watch to check his heart rate. He peaked right around 178 on the hill. I let him slow back down and his heart rate dropped below 100 within a minute.

Once we turned back down at the olive grove, Hoss wanted to pick up the pace somewhat. I allowed him to trot some, but we didn't move to a canter until we hit the flat trail. We cantered along at a good clip, and Hoss's heart rate stayed around 160. Once we slowed to a trot, his heart rate dropped to the 120s. I don't know a whole lot about heart rate stuff, but this seems to suggest he's in pretty good shape.

We kept up a good pace all the way back around until we crossed the dry creek again, then slowed down for the last half mile back to the trailer. We walked on back to the trailer. By this point the heart rate monitor seemed to be working consistently. Hoss was pretty worked up and excited about other trail users coming back as well. His heart rate would drop, then he'd pop back up when I had to correct him for trying to look back.

Back at the trailer, I took the bit out of Hoss's mouth and stood close to watch what his heart rate would do. The mountain bikers had come back, but one of them had headed back out because he'd dropped something, so his friends were worried about him and moving about. Hikers came back and got in their car and drove away. It was interesting to watch his heart rate go up and down with the varying stimuli going on around him. He'd come down to 60, then bounce back up to 70. He bounced up to 80 when the car backed out toward him and drove away. Still, within five minutes he was consistently down to 56 and dropping. I finished untacking him and took off his boots.

Back at home, I rinsed Hoss off and cleaned his boots. While he'd been in the trailer, he moved one of the bales of Bermuda hay I had put in the front of the trailer for our trip to Moab. Rotten stinker of a horse!

During our ride Hoss never took a bad step. I'm feeling very good about our upcoming ride.

Jamulfest Gymkhana 10-16-2011

My daughter joined me to ride Hoss in the gymkhana for Jamulfest this year. Jamulfest draws many more riders than the other gymkhanas during the year. There's a parade in the morning, and vendors and games and a beer garden set up in the church parking lot for the day. The gymkhana offers buckles for the winners at this event.

Before we left, I trimmed Hoss's feet and fit him with his new Easyboot Edges. They seemed to fit him very well right from the start.

When we arrived, there was a rider down in the arena surrounded by three or four people. Horses and riders were filing out of the arena. It turned out that, while warming up in the arena, a young girl was bucked off and stepped on by her horse. She had failed to tighten her girth adequately, resulting in the saddle pad slipping out behind the saddle. The horse was irritated by the loose pad and bucked in an effort to rid herself of it. The rider went over the horse's head, failed to release the reins, and pulled the horse right onto herself. She was stepped on badly, on her head, breaking her helmet in four pieces. She had a gash down her face from the mare's foot. An ambulance drove her to a location Life Flight could retrieve her from (Life Flight could land at the arena, it's plenty big enough, but nobody wants to land a helicopter that close to 100+ horses; they'd have more people to tend to) and she was taken to the hospital. It has since been reported that she underwent surgery to fix her eye and sew up her gash, and she will come home today. The only thing I am rather appalled by is, it took an incident of this nature to cause the gymkhana organizer to require anyone under 18 to wear helmets. I've never understood why they weren't required for all riders, never mind for children.

There were five events in the gymkhana, one of which we did not participate in. We figured the Pony Express event wasn't for us. This requires two horses and riders, so it was a little impractical. The other four events were Figure 8 Flags, Speed Ball, Cups, and Keyhole.

While the Pony Express event was being run, I rode Hoss along the road on the back side of the arena. We'd taken a lesson the day before, so I was trying to work on my new lesson. Hoss was particularly lively and ornery. I trotted him down to the far end of the arena and tried to turn him around. He started bucking. I pulled him into a spin, kicking him and asking for softness. It took a few circles, but he gave in. Then we trotted back down. Again I asked him to turn around, and I got sideways toward the other horses. Once again I circled him, and even "doubled" him on the arena fence. "Doubling" involves turning him into the fence, then back into the fence, back and forth until he moves out as expected. I got him paying better attention, then headed back down to the far end, where he again proceeded to try to bolt and buck. I spun him around some more and kicked the snot out of him. Fortunately everyone was paying attention to the competitors in the arena and very few noticed our little fight.

It was quite a little battle, and those boots stayed on just fine. I thought it was a pretty danged nice test, considering the tap dance he was doing in them.

It was just about time for my daughter to take Hoss in for Figure 8 Flags, so I got Hoss back over to the gate and hand him over. I instructed my daughter on the technique for getting Hoss to behave himself, then turned them loose.

My daughter and Hoss prepare to go in

This was a tough day for Hoss. He wanted nothing more than to run like a maniac. The events we were doing required control. And, of course, we had missed warm up, so he was hot.

In Figure 8 Flags, you ride down with one flag in your hand. There are two barrels set up with buckets of sand on them, each with a flag in it. The object is to plant the flag you have in your hand in the farthest bucket, get the other flag out, circle around back to the first barrel, plant the flag you've just picked up and get the last flag, then finish in the middle. And of course it's a figure 8, so you go around the barrels in opposite directions.

My daughter rode down to the second barrel, got her flag planted, and Hoss jumped back from the barrel. She tried to get him closer, but he was not having it. They went around the barrel three times – the limit – and went ahead and came back.

My daughter attempting Figure 8 Flags

On my turn, I rode Hoss on down, planted my flag, was reaching for the other, and Hoss moved away from the bucket. Nothing I could do would get him closer to that barrel. I got some improvement before we made our three turns, and then the back of my left leg cramped! I hollered, "Near-fatal butt cramp!" got a flag to take back and went out of the arena with a very crampy leg.

So both of us got no times on Figure 8 Flags. Hoss has always been suspicious of barrels. I suppose this is something I'll have to really work on.

My daughter trotting down for Speedball

The second event was Speedball. My daughter rode Hoss down to the cone, and Hoss was not about to have anything to do with the thing. He's done this event at least twice before and done just fine, stopping right next to the cone. Today he was not going to get anywhere close to it. So my daughter finally took the chance and tossed her golf ball into the cone. A shout of amazement went up from the crowd. No one could believe she'd gotten the shot from at least a foot away.

My attempt at Speedball

On my turn, Hoss was just as ornery. No way was he getting next to the thing, at least not as close as I wanted him. When I dropped my ball, I missed. Another no time for me.

The third event was cups. This turned out to be a little easier. My daughter rode Hoss down to the far pole with the cup on it, retrieved the cup, and rode to the second pole and was able to stick her cup on securely. They then ran all the way back down to the gate.

I did okay as well. Hoss was fine with getting close enough to the poles. I don't know what the heck he was thinking. Usually he's much more cooperative, but I suppose I should have seen it coming what with his behavior outside the ring and in our lesson the previous day. I let him run back down to the end of the arena.

Hoss and I finish Cups

The last event was Keyhole. A chalk outline is drawn in the arena, a narrow lane with a circle. The object is to go between the chalk lines, into the circle, turn about, and go back out without stepping out of the chalk outline.

Hoss has always had a bizarre relationship with "different color dirt." While riding, if we come across dirt of a different color than what we've been seeing, he will stare at it with great suspicion and may even refuse to cross it. He's gotten far better about it, often just going through it with little or no encouragement.

My daughter rode Hoss down to the entrance into the keyhole. Hoss planted his feet and would have nothing to do with it. We weren't able to find a pair of spurs for my daughter to use, so her kicking was ineffectual. She finally hauled him into a circle, after which point he walked obediently enough into the keyhole, turned about, and came back out. They set the record for the longest keyhole: 74 seconds.

When I rode Hoss down to the keyhole, he gave me a little resistance, and while I was trying to correct him, the right rein came off the bit!  I stopped him and leaned forward to try to reattach the rein (it's a clip and it had come loose), which he took as time to turn around and go back. I circled him around a few times, then the judge said, just get off, I'll let you go again.  I hopped off, fixed my rein, rode back down and started again.  On our second try, he jogged right into the keyhole, turned about, and trotted right back out.  I moved him up to a canter to return to the gate.
It was pretty late by the time we got home. We went into town and picked up pizza for the rest of the family – my husband and both kids were home, plus my daughter's boyfriend – and we gave a ride to a horse back to its home. I fed Hoss, and my husband made me my dinner. I can't have the pizza, so he grilled me up a hamburger patty to go with my salad. I was a bit of a bad girl and ate a sliver of pizza. My son saved me from myself and ate the last of the pizza.

When I took Hoss out for our walk this morning, I noticed he was stumbling every once and a while on his left front. I suspect that trip on Thursday caused a bruise in that foot. When we got home, I cleaned up his soles and put his Easyboot Gloves on. He'll stay in the pasture the rest of this week. He already appears happier. With any luck, he'll heal up in plenty of time to go to Moab on the 25^th.

Conditioning Ride 10-13-2011

Distance: 7.92 miles

Avg Speed: 4 mph

Time: 2 hours

I was planning to do a long ride this time. Unfortunately I got hung up doing all sorts of other things I needed to do and it got too late to squeeze in more than Hollenbeck Canyon. I had dropped off the cat at the vet's in the morning, and Mac had an afternoon appointment to get staples removed. He had gone dashing into the brush on a morning walk and ended up with a wound in his side that had to be stitched up.

So I finally got everybody loaded and we went down to Hollenbeck. It was a much warmer day, so we were going to be moving much slower. Ash and Mac overheat pretty easily once the temperatures exceed 90 or so. Hoss couldn't care less. He'd canter eight miles at 115. But there again, he's a horse, and they're black dogs.

Once again my stethoscope hadn't made it back into the trailer, so I couldn't get heart rate data for this ride. I have purchased a heart rate monitor for Hoss, but have yet to figure out how to use it.

I decided to go the opposite way around, going through the meadow first before climbing up and coming back down. We got some trotting in through the meadow, and cantered just a little bit on the long flat on the back side. We had to slow down and let the dogs catch up several times. Ash took to running on ahead when he knew there was likely to be water available. Smart dog. If he's ahead, he gets to rest until everybody else catches up!

We walked about half our miles. Coming down the single track is more of a challenge than going up. Good for Hoss's mind, though.

We were trotting along trying to make time because I was going to be late getting Mac to the vet, when Hoss took several bad steps. I pulled him to a stop and hopped off. He was holding his left front off the ground. I picked it up and inspected the foot and found nothing. I suspect what he did was step on a rock that rolled under his foot. I gave him a few minutes, then got back on. We walked for a while, and I asked him for a trot just to see if there was lasting lameness. He trotted clean. I slowed him back down and we finished our ride at a walk. With the severity of the bad step he took, I didn't want to take any chances.

Once loaded up, we took off for the vet's office. Mac got his staples removed and we picked up Tiger, the kitty. I let Tiger out of her crate so she could ride around comfortably. She and the dogs get along well, so I had nothing to worry about. Driving home with two dogs and a cat in the truck and Hoss in the trailer felt sort of Noah's Ark.

On another note, I saw my doctor again to figure out where we are. All my tests came back normal. My doctor now thinks my pain is acid reflux. It's a diagnosis that doesn't make a whole lot of sense given the symptoms. I'm willing to try just about anything, though. I don't have much interest in having surgery yet again! I suspect if she'd told me to go home and wave a chicken over my head three times a day, I'd have tried it. So now we're treating this as reflux. So far there's no difference. And when I first got that diagnosis, I decided I didn't need to stick to my very strict diet. Well, I went ahead and broke the diet, with what can only be called disastrous results. I was in an awful lot of distress for a couple of days, before going back on the diet seemed to help. I have to say the reflux treatment so far is not helping. I'll give it more time, but I doubt very much this saga is over.

Conditioning Ride 10-9-2011

Miles: 7.92

Avg Speed: 5.8mph

Time: 1 hour, 15 minutes

The Friday before this ride, Hoss had a mild colic. We came home from our lesson, and he walked into his pasture, past his dinner, and flopped down in the dirt. I got my stethoscope out and listened to his stomach. He had gut sounds, though not great, and his gums still looked good. When he stood up and I was able to listen to his heart, his heart rate was slightly elevated. It was clear he was uncomfortable. He took a big drink of water and peed and farted, so I gave him a sloppy bran mash but took his hay away.

I didn't have any Banamine at home, so I contacted my trainer and drove all the way back to her ranch to get some. Cheaper than a vet call. By the time I got back, he'd pooped and was already looking better. I gave him a dose of Banamine anyway and a handful of hay.

All during the night I got up and checked on him. Every time he'd pooped, I gave him a little more hay. By morning he was clearly feeling much better. I gave him dribs and drabs of hay during the day, every time I saw he'd pooped. I was tired from being up all night and the insanely busy week I'd had that I slept in my chair between horse checks.

By the time evening feeding rolled around, it was clear Hoss was fully recovered. He was thoroughly ticked off by the limited food he'd had. I came into the pasture with the wheelbarrow with dinner, and when I wouldn't let him eat out of the wheelbarrow, he pitched a bucking fit.

Seeing as Hoss was clearly feeling just fine, I loaded him and the dogs up for an afternoon ride at Hollenbeck Canyon after church. The weather was nice and cool. Perfect conditions for a good, fast ride.

Because of the up-all-night with colic episode, I had left my stethoscope in the house, so I didn't have it to collect heart rate data with.

Hoss was definitely feeling his normal self. Once we hit the trails, he was ready to move out. I made him walk for a distance to warm up a bit, but once we crossed the dry stream, I gave him his head. Trotting, however, was not on the agenda as far as Hoss was concerned. He moved right into a nice, easy canter. Not super fast, but not slow, and easy and loose. We passed other trail users, some of whom seemed surprised to see a horse moving that fast. I am often amused by the reactions of non-horsey people. Hoss and I will be trotting or cantering along, and someone on foot will dash off the trail as if Hoss might, at any moment, head off the intended path and run them down.

For the most part we kept to a canter on the rolling, rocky trail up toward the top of the open space. There were spots we had to slow down to negotiate, but Hoss is developing much more confidence over these familiar trails. Once we reached the single track, we had to slow down, but I kept him up to a trot. In some places, especially where the going is steep uphill, he wants to slow down so he doesn't have to work so hard. I pushed him to keep his pace up. He needs to build those muscles he's been avoiding using.

Back on the wider trail, we picked up the canter again and cantered up the whole way to the top. The dogs were staying close behind Hoss, keeping up well with the nice temperature of the afternoon. We dropped down to a trot for most of the top section, as it rolls up and down frequently. We turned at the olive grove and headed on back down.

Much of the downward side is steep, so mostly walking, but we trotted on the flat and not too steep downhills. Once we reached the long flat, we opened back up to a canter. I sneaked a peek at the GPS. Hoss was topping out at a blistering 11.4mph. Hahaha! He's not fast, at least compared to his predecessor.

We made it all the way around cantering. Hoss finally wanted to slow down, but I got him to get a few more strides in before we slowed to a walk for a little recovery period. We walked through the narrower trail here, letting Hoss's heart rate come back down.

When we got to the open meadow area, a group of horses was coming down from a different trail. We would not intersect, but Hoss was terribly interested in them. He willingly took up the trot again, I suspect thinking he'd get to come into contact with those other horses. I kept him going down the slight slope, and it didn't seem to dawn on Hoss that he wouldn't converge with the other group. If it did occur to him, he decided it wasn't important and kept working.

Once we turned the corner at the water tank, we took up the canter again until we reached the crossing at the dry stream bed. We walked on back to the trailer. Hoss seemed in fine spirits and his heart rate seemed to come down nicely. Without the stethoscope, I can't be sure where his heart rate was. Once it drops below a certain point, I'm not terribly successful at feeling it with my hands and I've never been good at taking pulse. Still, I was pretty happy with how he looked. And the dogs had been well worn down, too, which was part of the point!

The Post-Ride Fallout

After we got home from Best of Both, I showered off the incredible amount of trail I was wearing before cooking up a couple of hamburger patties. After eating, I went straight off to bed with an ice pack for my leg. The swelling was huge and red by this point and itched like the devil. I took a couple of Benadryl and Aleve in hopes of controlling it.

I needed to be at church early Sunday morning for choir. Since I knew I'd never be able to take a morning walk, I slept in before getting up to feed everybody and get my own breakfast. I was rather limping about. My leg really, really hurt!

At church, I limped my way up into the choir loft. My fellow choir members asked if I'd been kicked. No, stung. And it hurts. I don't recommend it.

We sing in both services these days, so I'm at church for about four hours. We are allowed to bail before the sermon in the second service once we've finished singing. Between services, I had to explain what had happened and why I was limping several times. A couple of women threatened to knock me out and take me to the ER next door. The church is across the street from UCSD Hospital in Hillcrest.

By the time I climbed back up into the choir loft for second service the swelling was down into my calf. It itched. Scratching lightly at it felt good, but as soon as I stopped it hurt worse than it had before I touched it. Sitting in the chair was becoming difficult. The seat of the chair pressed on the top of the swelling.

I left the choir loft before the sermon and tried to stay comfortable on the patio. I sat and read for a while. My son had an important meeting to attend after service, so we couldn't go home until he was done. When the service was over and I'd had enough socializing, I went to a local restaurant for a little lunch. After I'd eaten I drove back to the church to wait for my son.

I was sitting in the shade in the car, leaned back in the front seat listening to Car Talk, when I realized I was gritting my teeth. The Emergency Room was tantalizingly close. I texted my son and told him I was going to the ER.

It was the right choice. By this point I could barely bear weight on the leg. The muscles felt tight and crampy. The doctors felt it was an allergic reaction, but they were alarmed enough by the extent of it – and watching it spread during the time I was there – that they prescribed an EpiPen.

While they were asking me about my symptoms, I realized my throat had been feeling a little tight while singing. That's not normal for me. I was also feeling weak and tired. I wanted to lie down in the top of the choir loft and put my leg up on a chair.

I was also prescribed Benadryl and Prednisone. The combination has made a significant difference. I expect if I hadn't gone in, I would still be having a difficult time with this and might have progressed into cellulitis. By Monday morning I was recovered enough to take my morning walk. My leg still itched and was a funky blue purple color, but it was livable. I was even able to do my mountain bike ride and hour exercise.

I heard from my doctor's office on Monday. The blood test and ultrasound both came back negative. Very frustrating. This means we're back to the drawing board on figuring out why I'm having so much pain. This also means the time it will take until I know what's going on and get it resolved has been extended. I'll just have to keep plugging along on this incredibly boring and restrictive diet and doing what I have to do until then.

On a positive note, I've started to lose weight. Gradually, of course, but getting into the tights on Saturday was exhilarating. The tightness around my calves caused some rash on the insides of my shins, but I think that's because I put the tights over my socks. Lesson: put the socks on over the tights, not the other way around. I'm very pleased to see the numbers on the scale going down and seeing the change in the way my clothes are fitting. It only took moving to an hour and a half a day exercising to get here!

Since my escapade visiting the ER and getting an EpiPen, I've decided it's time to get a medical alert bracelet. I ordered that a few days ago. I will also need to find a waist pack of some kind in order to keep my EpiPen, inhaler, and other essentials on me. I certainly don't want to end up in a situation in which I get separated from my horse, need my meds, and he has them! Besides, I do plenty of stuff without the horse, so a method of carrying everything I need on my person is a good thing anyway.

I am also now contemplating the rest of the endurance year. I've planned to go to the Bill Thornburgh ride, which is a two day ride, but there's a three day ride at Moab the same weekend. Going to Moab instead would be a bigger undertaking, requiring me to be away longer in terms of driving there and back, but it would make up for not completing Big Bear. The next ride, however, is the very next weekend, at the Bucksnort Challenge. If I don't go to Moab, we will fall short of our goal for the year. If I go to Moab, my husband will be with me, and he will need to fly back to Louisiana within a few days after the end of the ride, which could be difficult. I will have to find out what his schedule really will be before I make my final decision.

Best of Both 50

Since I missed several weeks of lessons due to various weather conditions and illnesses on my part and my trainer's, I decided to take our lesson in Imperial Beach before heading out to base camp. It took me longer to get everything loaded than I would have liked, so I missed my Turbo-Kick class. This diet I'm on for my gall bladder requires much more preparation time than usual. In the past I'd just buy prepared stuff I could heat up or just eat out of the box. That's not an option on this diet, and since the diet is helping, I clearly had to just do what needed done. This involves a good deal of cutting up fruits and vegetables to take along.

We went to IB and took our lesson, which went very well. We worked on getting Hoss's hips moving more appropriately and getting me to stop "riding" so hard, and keep riding when I need to. We're still working on the long and low moving, which Hoss is doing very well in the arena, not so easy to get him to do on the trail. As soon as we go in the arena, he drops his head. On trail, though, he tends to go more head up. I think he's not feeling like I'm "leading" well on trail, so that's what I need to work on.

After our lesson, we loaded back up and headed up through the Laguna Mountains to the Lucky 5 Ranch. On our way through Laguna, I could see the thunderstorm that had hit moving out. While driving through the town of Laguna, there was a smattering of snow on the ground. Snow! It's the end of September for heaven's sake!

We arrived at Lucky 5 Ranch and found a place to camp. The ranch is absolutely beautiful. The owner was gracious enough to allow Terry Woolley-Howe to use her land as a base camp for this ride. We were in the middle of a pasture, so there was a good deal of plant life. I got Hoss unloaded and gave him water. It was getting late so I walked him over to the ride management area to pick up my packet and vet through. The vet gave him an A- on skin, because of those ugly girth galls he's got. Having ridden Hoss in a lesson, though, I was confident I could keep them from getting any worse.

After I got back to the trailer, I gave Hoss a nice sloppy bran mash and his alfalfa for dinner. I set up my tent and got an air mattress set up. It wasn't easy, because the dry plant life was quite stubborn. I tried to mash the plant life down, but really didn't get far with that. I got my stove out and my picnic table. I'd managed to leave all my chairs at home, so the only seating I had was the picnic table. This is fine, because it gave me a place to set things up anyway. I got my saddle ready with water and Gatorade, my map, directions and vet card, electrolytes for Hoss, my jacket and some granola bars and fruit snacks and sunscreen.

Once I was done with all that, it was time for the ride meeting. I headed on over and sat with Evelyn of Just For Horsin-Around to visit until the meeting started. I knew what to expect at the meeting, but it's always a good thing to go anyway. As expected, criteria for all out vet checks were set at 56. It's a bit frustrating for me with a heavily-muscled horse. These bigger guys simply take longer to come down. And with his recent layup, Hoss has lost enough cardio fitness to make it even harder. We were going to have to ride slow to make criteria and we'd be chasing cut-off times all day. Additionally, the way the trail got set up, we ended up with a long (21 miles) first loop, followed by two short loops (7 miles and 10 miles), and a mid-distance (12 miles) final loop. Short loops are much harder for Hoss. It takes him longer to recover after a short loop than after a long loop.

After heating up a can of soup and putting together a salad, I sat down and ate while the night settled in. I went to bed early, lying down to read a couple of magazines and my book. By 9:00 I was ready to go to sleep. I turned off my light and lay down. It took me a while to get comfortable. And then, my air mattress suddenly and rapidly lost air. Something under the tent had punctured it. I was forced to get my memory foam out, fold it in half, and use that as a mattress. Fortunately the ground was soft enough I was comfortable enough.

I got up at 4:00 to feed Hoss his breakfast and then lay back down until 5:30. Once I got up for good, I dressed for the ride. I've now lost enough weight that I'm able to wear the funky lycra tights Evelyn made for me last year. They're still a little tight around my calves, but I expect that has more to do with muscle than weight. Other than that, they fit me quite nicely and are comfortable to wear.

I made my breakfast of fruit and scrambled eggs, then saddled Hoss up and got ready to make the 6:30 start. I always start just a little late. I don't want to get caught up with the hot shoes. Hoss can't keep up with them and he gets frustrated by being passed by faster horses. It's easier to start toward the back and not struggle with him when he's passed. It's something we'll have to work on.

Passing through a meadow at the top of Cuyamaca

We were doing pretty well until a little grey arab mare passed us up. Hoss got heavy on the bit and I had to circle him several times to keep his attention on me. Fortunately we started on a very wide road, making it possible to use the circling technique to correct his behavior. Narrow trails are much more difficult to deal with.

Hoss got locked on that mare and we were chasing her. Fortunately it turned out this mare was coming back after a lay off, so they weren't going terribly fast. Just fast enough to keep ahead of Hoss! Once the mare started to feel a little tired, she'd slow down and we'd be able to catch up.

We turned off the road out of the ranch on to the trails at the back of Cuyamaca. We entered on Deer Springs Road and turned onto West Mesa Fire Road. It was beautiful out there. Most of this early trail was good enough to trot on. Once we got on Harvey Moore there was less trottable trail, but we still were making a good clip. We turned on the Connector to Juaquapin trail, and that's where my trouble started. At about mile 8, I felt something sting me on the back of my left thigh. I stopped Hoss to try to figure out what was going on, and a yellow jacket flew away. Dammit. I'd been stung but good. Still, I've never had a severe reaction to a yellow jacket sting (I've been stung twice before), so I felt comfortable going on. Well, maybe "comfortable" is not the word for it. It hurt and swelled rapidly to the size of a golf ball. I didn't feel I needed to turn off and seek immediate aide, but "comfortable" I was not!

There was water at about the 12 mile mark. Since the first vet check was so far into the ride, I decided to go ahead and electrolyte Hoss at this point. He had taken a good drink, so I felt it was a good time. It was the first time I ever forcibly electrolyted him, and he was surprised. When I slipped the bit back in his mouth, he was still holding the electrolytes in his mouth and got some spit out. I figure he got most of it, though.

We continued on up the wide trail we were on (can't for the life of me remember what fire road it was), then turned off on Soapstone. Soapstone is steep and rocky. It's a tough bit of trail. Hoss was egged on by the mare in front of him, until her rider dismounted and led her the last half of the grade. I might have been inclined to walk as well, but my leg was really starting to ache and I didn't feel like I could walk any distance.

Following the grey mare being led up Soapstone

At the top of Soapstone, there was more water and we stopped to let the horses drink. We were caught up by Rebecca Florio and Elfta Hilzman. I mentioned the yellow jacket sting, and Rebecca, bless her, gave me a Benadryl. We continued on the California Riding and Hiking Trail, passing out of Cuyamaca and into Anza Borrego.

On the CRHT behind the grey mare, Rebecca and Elfta

After riding through the corner of Anza, we turned back into Cuyamaca, still on the CRHT. Rebecca and Elfta fell back, and I wanted to stay with them, as Hoss is much more evenly matched with Rebecca's horse than the little grey mare we'd been with, but he wasn't having it. As soon as that mare took off, it was all I could do to keep him from taking off at a dead gallop after her. The head vet, Fred Beasom, always makes the point that, as riders, we're the adults and the horses are like 4-year-old children. Well, that only works so far. When the 4-year-old is 950 pounds, he's gonna win from time to time.

At a high point on the PCT

We picked up the Pacific Crest Trail across the highway. We came through an area that is used by hang gliders. I was rather alarmed by the number of memorial plaques that had been placed for people who had died hang gliding in the area. Why do people do that if it's that dangerous? I don't get it.

We came into the first vet check at a trail head next to the highway. I would usually slow down the last mile into the vet check, but the others we were riding with weren't slowing down and Hoss wasn't going to be left behind. Again, 950 pounds is going to overcome me at some point and it wasn't like I was in any condition to walk! I would have walked if I could.

It took Hoss almost ten minutes to come down. We were well enough within the cut off time it wasn't a problem, and I was neither alarmed nor surprised it took him that much time to come down. Once he was down, I handed him off to a volunteer so I could go use the facilities. I had needed to pee since about mile 3. When I got back, I saw he was eating out of a bran mash bucket and was a little alarmed. Often those bran mashes have grain in them, and he's allergic to oats. I hadn't mentioned what not to let him have to the volunteer I'd handed him to, a mistake I quickly learned from. Fortunately the mash he was eating was grain free.

By this point the swelling of the sting on my leg had gotten considerably larger. I wasn't in extreme pain, but it was getting hard to walk. I vetted Hoss through toward the end of the hold and gave him his second dose of electrolytes. He really thought that was a dirty trick! He didn't fight me about it, but he wasn't happy with me. We ended up leaving five minutes late, but we got back on trail.

We were alone at this point, but Hoss picked up a reasonable trot. After a brief time, another horse – a 30 miler – caught us up and wanted by. They were going considerably faster than us and hadn't come nearly so far. We were now on narrow, steep sided single track trail. Now when Hoss wanted to pitch a fit, there was little I could do to correct him. Boy, did he ever figure that out in a hurry! He knew I couldn't circle him. He knew my options were limited. So he started acting up. He did learn if he started hollering, I could reach forward with the whip and whack him on the nose.

We re-crossed the highway and we could see Rebecca and Elfta ahead of us again. Hoss wanted nothing more than to catch up. At this point the trail had some treacherous areas and Hoss really needed to pay attention. I spent a lot of time talking to him and downright growling at him to keep his attention where it needed to be.

The 30 mile horse got past Elfta and Rebecca and we caught up to them. Hoss settled down to the pace they were keeping, now separated from the faster 30 miler. He really does like Rebecca's horse.

This loop was very short. We came into the vet check with half an hour to spare and Hoss proceeded to hang his heart rate. I could see from his attitude he needed to pee, but he wasn't doing it. He took a good drink and ate for a bit. I took him back to the water and waited with him, and he finally peed! His heart rate immediately following that was 36. It took just about 20 minutes for him to come down.

Hoss and Rebecca Florio's Lee share a pile of hay

This was the hour hold, so I got him some food and found someone to watch him while I got some lunch and used the facilities. He was once again with Rebecca's and Elfta's horses, so he was happy.

By this time my leg had swollen a great deal more. The skin had become shiny from the level of swelling and now I was limping. It was also a rather nasty bright red color.

I started getting Hoss ready to go with every intention of leaving the vet check exactly on time. I took him back to the water for one last drink before putting his bit back in. Several other horses were preparing to leave as well, including Tammy Robinson, who was just a few minutes behind us time-wise. I mounted up and Hoss decided he wasn't done having a drink. One thing he has definitely learned is I won't make him go on if he's drinking. So he stuck his head in the bucket and sipped, and when he pulled his head out I asked him to move. Oh, no, Mom, I'm still thirsty! Back into the bucket went his head. He sipped a little more. After a few repetitions, he'd stick his head in but wasn't drinking. I made him get his butt back out on the trail.

We were now behind Tammy Robinson, with about ten miles to the next vet check and two hours to get there and be down to criteria. So we were on the hustle on this loop. Being behind an arab was nice. Kept Hoss moving out.

There were many rocky sections that were unsuitable for trotting over. Because of time constraints, we trotted over some questionable areas and walked over the really nasty stuff.

We got back to the highway and stopped to let the horses drink. There was a sign on the water bucket that said ¾ mile to the vet check. This did not square with the mileage on my GPS, and it certainly didn't feel like we'd come that far. It seemed like we had more like 3 miles to go. Additionally, that same sign had been on a water bucket before the first vet check, and it was entirely possible it was inaccurate. Tammy and I chose to believe we had another three miles to go and hustled once we crossed the highway.

I can't remember where I took this, but it sure is pretty.

What a mistake. The bucket sign had been accurate. We came trotting into the vet check. Once again, Hoss's heart rate was hanging. I mentioned earlier he's lost some cardio fitness. It was really showing by this point. We came into the vet check at 3:00, half an hour to go to cut off. It took 25 minutes and a great deal of sponging to get Hoss's heart rate down to criteria, and when I took him to the vet ten minutes later it hadn't dropped any further.

I was really in pain from my sting by this time. The swelling was clearly visible through my tights. One of the vets commented I looked like I was lame. I told her I was!

I gave Hoss his last dose of electrolytes, and he was really unhappy about it. Electrolyte paste was dribbling out of his mouth. Because it took so long for Hoss to recover we were the last out of the vet check. Hoss didn't want to leave. It took a little doing, but once we got going he was okay.

At this point in the ride, the trail markings had been sabotaged quite a bit. Many riders got lost as a result. The trail description was little help. Hoss and I were trotting out pretty well until we went through the cowboy gate. When we'd pre-ridden the trail, I had taken the trail to left, but every indication was we should go right. There were trail markers – too high for anyone not on horseback to have placed – up the right trail, but none visible to the left. Turns out the trail description had gotten me "lost" when we pre-rode!

Because we'd pre-rode the other trail and I wasn't feeling terribly confident about our directions, Hoss was getting agitated. He wanted to do the trail we'd done before, figuring it had to be right. I was unsure enough I'm sure I was feeding him somewhat negative energy. Once I saw another trail marker and felt confident, he moved out better.

Then we got off track again. Enough mountain bikes had come through between us and the horses in front of us to obscure the horse tracks on the trail, and I directed Hoss down the wrong trail. I found our way back, but I was once again unsure. This really agitated Hoss, and he mashed my knee into a tree. My left knee. Now I had a sting and a smashed knee! That really annoyed me. Then the next tree close to the trail, he did it again! It didn't help that my left leg was weak and I was having trouble using it to cue him by that point. I whacked him a couple of times to let him know what I thought of those shenanigans. The next tree he behaved himself better. Of course by then we'd come across more trail markers and I was once again confident we were on the right path.

We were all alone out there at this point. Hoss was trying very hard to convince me he was just too tired to keep going. This was difficult to pass off on me when his ears were perked forward. I couldn't keep him consistently trotting faster than 6 mph, though. I really would have preferred to get 7 mph, but it wasn't going to happen.

When we got to Noble Canyon trail, we were forced to slow down much more often. Once again the trail was quite rocky. We had to trot every stretch we could, even if it was only five strides. I started singing choir songs aloud to help Hoss out a little bit. He seems to like it when I sing. His step certainly picked up while I was belting out "Amani Utupe."

We came around to the bottom of Indian Creek trail. I didn't want to get off and hand jump Hoss over the stream. With my leg in the condition it was in, I wasn't positive I could get back on. So, hoping the previous time by had taught him something, I started urging him to jump. After a little cajoling, he went ahead and jumped. I gave him a pat and told him what a good boy he was. He promptly dropped his head and snatched some grass to eat.

We started up the jeep road and came to water at the top. Hoss stopped for a drink. After he got a good drink I started getting him moving. Once again he used the "but I'm still drinking" excuse to try to stay where we were. He's getting good at this. I got him moving on. We didn't have time to fool around!

The trail from here back to the ranch was rocky and evil. We trotted as much as possible, but it is largely uphill, which Hoss absolutely hates. We got to the top with a spectacular view and more water. Hoss stuck his head in the bucket but didn't drink. He just wanted to stop. I let him hang out long enough to get a couple of pictures and let him breath, but we had to keep going. We continued on our way and started downhill, where we could see camp at the bottom of the hill.

The view from the top

Hoss was really unhappy about going forward by this time. I guess he couldn't tell that was camp up ahead. I was pushing for every trot step. And then a pair of riders who'd gotten lost caught up to us. As soon as they were caught up, Hoss found plenty of energy. I know if he was truly tired he would have let them pass and kept to his own pace. He wouldn't have liked it, but he wouldn't have pushed himself, either. We've been in that situation before.

The riders of the other two horses were off and running with their horses. I couldn't do that. No chance. The swelling from the sting had spread down through the back of my knee, limiting the range of motion. At this point it was pretty constantly painful. If my gall bladder was giving me any trouble, I couldn't tell. Its messages were being drowned out by the messages from my leg.

When the other riders got back on and started trotting, they were far faster than Hoss could reliably go. And I really mean far, far faster. I expect they were trotting 10mph or better, and downhill. I had to forcibly haul Hoss back and circle him several times before I could get him to stay down to a walk the rest of the way in to camp. We finished at 6:15, with 15 minutes to spare.

I got Hoss back to the trailer, gave him a nice sloppy bran mash and cleaned him up. At this point I could just get around. I had to walk to a water trough to get Hoss a bucket of water. While he was eating and recovering, I started pulling down camp. I didn't bother to put things away properly. I was just to uncomfortable. Once I got everything put away, I took Hoss for his completion.

One of the two horses that had caught up to us at the end was also coming in to present. The vet was doing BC, so we had to wait for him to finish. The other horse was quite spunky and kept threatening to either bite or kick Hoss. Poor Hoss didn't like that at all. I suspect that has a lot to do with his heart rate being 60 when we vetted out, but I know his loss of condition is a factor as well.

I took Hoss back and we loaded up and left for home. I ate a banana and a granola bar on the road. When we got home, I almost couldn't move my left leg. I had to manually lift my leg off the seat and out of the truck. The first several steps I had to lean on the truck until I get my leg under me. Fortunately my son was home and he helped me get Hoss put up.

All in all, a good ride. It was a challenge but doable. I certainly hope Terry will be able to do this one again.