March 14 2024Lucy Trumbull
Sometimes it seems like the more I do something the less it feels like I know how to do it. Riding Squee has brought new and different challenges to long-distance riding, and 20 Mule Team - whilst familiar - was no different. This was my 8th time riding the 100 miler (with Squee and I doing the 60 and the 65 milers here the last couple of years).
It didn't start off well when Squee managed to slice open his head in the trailer in the first 30 minutes while we were on our way over to fetch Ranger and Annette. After a quick inspection of the bleeding flap, we glopped on some desitin and shut him in the middle stall of the trailer where he wouldn't be able to do any more damage. We made it to Ridgecrest with no flat tires or the trailer lights failing - and dodged the worst of the weather on the way down. Carefully parked the trailer to maximize its wind-breaking capacity, and installed both horses on the lee side (thankful that I've got spring ties on both sides). We were even close enough to the faucet and had a hose so that we were able to fill water buckets without much heavy lifting - a bonus, given that Squee pooped in his water bucket, twice, (presumably due to turning his butt to the wind), before I gave up and put a water container on the ground, slightly to one side.
Friday was spent gluing on his shoes, gluing his forehead back together (who knew how useful superglue could be), pre-riding an amped up horse (aka Kite Onna String), packing crew bags, and wrestling with things in the wind.
Because of the wind, it got to the stage where you couldn't do most basic tasks alone. My tack room door stopper suffered a failure from being nearly blown off its hinges, meaning that you needed two people to get the saddle out - one to hold the door, the other to wrestle the saddle. Similarly, to tack up, you needed one person to wrangle the blanket and saddle pad, while the other put the saddle on. Everything that normally lives outside the trailer was smooshed into the back of it, so it was tight quarters back there, with us clambering over piles of equipment, hay bags, feed containers, tack, chairs, etc.
All night it blew hard and in the morning despite trying to shelter them out of the wind, it didn't look like either horse had drunk very well, nor could we tell how much hay they'd eaten versus how much had just blown away. I gave Squee a mash which he devoured with such relish that I immediately gave him a second one - which sort of clued me in that he hadn't eaten much overnight. I was super-glad I got those two mashes in him as the morning developed. I also managed to give him a dose of electrolytes before the start.
The ride started at 6 a.m. and we were only 5 minutes late - pretty good going. We sailed along, making good time, passing horses as is Squee's habit, and enjoying the gorgeous sunrise. So far so good.
At 6 miles in, we hit our first issue of the day. Annette's stirrup decided to part company with the saddle, so we stopped at the first water trough for her to fix it (necessitating a complete saddle removal). Thankfully, although Squee ignored the water trough, he and Ranger amused themselves eating desert greenery while this repair was going on (possibly what contributed to him not crashing later, so definitely not a wasted stop). He was also not happy about all the horses that passed us here, but he managed to keep it together.
On we went, sailing along the ridge, admiring the rocks and at times clinging to the saddle to stop being blown off, leaning into the wind. It was crazy windy out there - but hilariously so. What the heck??
At 14 miles (at the "hot chocolate stop" - on the traditional night loop), another trough, another opportunity to drink ignored, but not totally out of the ordinary given the cool weather. I dosed Squee again, hoping to encourage him to drink at the trestle 6 miles further along.
He was bopping along quite happily - wanting to go-go-go, but I was able to keep him to a dull roar - better than past rides here. As we hit the shoulder of Laurel Mountain, it rained on us and although I was bundled up, I was reminded that I hadn't brought along my rain jacket. Thankfully it stopped pretty quickly, but it was a little nervous-making. I had to unzip three of my six layers to find a suitable safe inner pocket to put my rain-spotted glasses into.
At the trestle, he munched on alfalfa but ignored the water trough
Nope. At the vet check (~25 miles) he still had no interest in drinking. He pulsed down nicely, vetted through well, except for unsurprising low hydration scores - but worst of all, his gums were *bright* red, causing great concern. I flashed on the three doses of elytes I'd given him and vet Susan McCartney wondered if that was what had caused the irritation. Ugh. So much for diligent elyting. I flushed his mouth with plain water for a while using my elyte syringe and by the time our hold was over, his gums were back to normal.
Ranger had taken a little longer to pulse in, so we waited for them - I figure any rest time refueling is good time. Of course, Squee didn't eat his soggy mash, or drink anything (even as we left the check), he just munched on alfalfa.
The next section isn't the most scintillating - riding alongside hw-395, in a straight line for miles. This was similar to last year's route and I was mindful of the fact that in theory a person could trot-trot-trot non-stop for miles and miles. Since we don't train on that type of terrain, that clearly wasn't going to happen, so we put in a few walking breaks.
Squee felt good and the wind was at our back for the first few miles. Ultimately, of course, we had to turn and head straight into it. For some reason I thought there was a water trough at this point, so started doing some mental calculations as to where the next one was. Although Squee felt fine, I decided that if he didn't drink at one of the next two troughs (~32 miles and ~34 miles), I was going to have to pull him from the ride. Because we were looping around, from that point it was just a few miles back to the vet check. But after that, we'd be heading up into the hills and I didn't want to take a compromised horse up there.
And - big sigh of relief - he *finally* took a great big drink at the next trough. Imminent pull averted, although I still felt like I was going to have to baby him along due to the fact he was dehydrated.
So we climbed up into the hills - taking it really easy and not pushing at all. I'd worried that the weather would blow in when we were up there (and we'd had a short taste of it at that 34 mile-trough when we were pelted full in the face with small hail for a couple of minutes) and watched the lowering clouds to the south nervously. But instead we were down in a little canyon, out of the worst of the wind, and what wind there was was at our backs again.
Slow, careful climbing up to the top, but the reward of an amazing view as we crested the saddle at 4,200 ft / 1,280 m. And best of all, the weather never caught us.
Down the other side and headed back to the same vet check as in the morning. Half way down and Annette's stirrup parted ways again
Back around to vet check #2 at 50 miles. Squee again got relatively good scores, except for hydration, and at least his gums were the correct color. Ranger, OTOH, wasn't having a good day and it was here we parted company with him getting a ride back to camp in a trailer.
(At 50 miles, the one thing you do *not* do is think "gah, I'm tired, and we're only half-way through").
Thankfully, Squee gives no sh*ts, and cheerfully left the vet check without a care - eager to get down the trail and catch other victims. It's exhausting and exhilarating at the same time - amazing to see his energy, but exhausting because you have to constantly rate him to stop him blowing himself up.
Headed back to camp, we alternated cantering and gaiting, me trying to get a steady pace, him wanting to run. We hunted down some other riders who I assumed were on the 60 or 75 miler (there were more of them than 100 mile riders - and they did the same route as us), but it turned out to be Tami and Monica on the 100. I asked Squee to stay with them for a while in an effort to steady the pace, but he ultimately outwalked them once we got down onto the flats in town and he dragged me into camp (see video clip) at 60 miles with the wind blowing in our face.
This was our hour-hold, so we had plenty of time to regroup, refuel (many thanks to Annette for supplying me with ramen noodles), re-dress (thanks to Annette for the snow pants - although it meant I had nowhere to put my phone), and get Squee's saddle back on (stink-eye from him, since he thought we were done, as we had been the previous two years). We taped some glowsticks onto his breast collar and I booted up the "Rides with GPS" app that supplies audio-cues in the dark as to when and where to turn.
Of again on the first night loop - 15 miles - which would bring us to 75 miles back at camp. Squee was happy as a clam, leading out his posse of Tami, Monica, and new member Megan who was doing the 75. The wind had dropped and it was blissful to ride without having your sinuses whisked or your ears buffeted.
Within a few miles, Megan needed to jog on ahead - her horse has a useful can-go-for-100-miles slow trot that she wanted to make use of. She passed... and of course, Squee wanted to go with her. Since he was now drinking like an adult, had passed the previous vet check well, felt good, and Megan was going a nice easy pace, I didn't see any harm in letting him join her.
This was my mistake and one I made in the past when I rode Charlie at VC100 a few years ago. "Slow easy trot" - whilst it looks slow and easy for an arabian, is not the same as "picking your own gait and staying within reason" for a gaited thing. Squee kept up fine and had a jolly time - to the point that, when the wind came up again, he just went faster and faster until I realised we'd left Megan behind. I slowed him down again and we bopped on back to camp together. Along one stretch I was a little nervous about what seemed to be deep sand, but Squee seemed to gobble it all up.
Back in camp at 75 miles for the 4th vet check with a rabid beast who just wanted to eat and eat and eat... but unfortunately showed no sign of pulsing down. Unwilling to slosh him with water, all we could do was strip his tack, put on a fleece cooler and try and maintain the delicate balance between letting him eat rabidly, and taking him away from the food source to try and get his pulse down - causing it to spike up again because we'd taken the food away. Ugh.
At the last minute, the PnR person was able to get him at criteria - at which point he promptly peed... which would have helped if he'd done it earlier.
So he got through the vet, but not great. I worried that the lack of hydration was catching up with him, making his blood move along like sludge and that he'd go downhill from here.
This hold was only supposed to be 45 minutes and we'd already spent a bunch of time persuading him to pulse down, so we went back to the trailer for more refueling, a soggy mash for him, more ramen for me, and ended up spending a whole hour - putting me back out on the trail for the final 25 miles at 11 p.m.
I'd never seen Tami or Monica come in to VC4 behind us, so decided that they'd slowed way down and must still be behind me, so it was a bit of a shock to arrive at the out-timer - albeit 20 minutes late - and be told that Tami had left 30 minutes earlier.
Oh. So I'm now turtle. Hey ho.
Off we went, Squee now a lot more subdued (but also heading away from the wind) for a long, dark windy loop. I'd hoped that we'd catch Tami, but Squee wasn't motivated enough. I tried to stay awake, but dozed off a couple of times within the first 10 miles - not good. But catnaps do you the world of good, so I was pretty perky by the time we hit the pointy end of the giant triangle that was the turning around point for this loop - 12.5 miles to go.
The end of the loop had a short section of about a quarter mile where they routed us across-country to jog over to the return trail - and this quarter mile was lit up like a UFO landing strip with a glow-stick bouncing on a bush in the wind every 10 ft. Squee took a few minutes to munch on some greenery while I admired the glowsticks. Most amusing...
... until we headed back into the wind...
And windy it was. Ack. It was full, in-your-face wind. Along this stretch, there were three detours off the "headed-straight-back-to-camp" trail, each headed away from the wind. Looking at the map beforehand, I'd originally thought these would cause problems for any self-respecting horse with a sense of direction. Head *away* from camp? Nuh-uh. But instead, when we got to these detours, Squee took off with enthusiasm, doing his rolling downhill eye-popping speed gait away from the wind... and then we'd turn back into the wind and slow down again.
Astonishingly, I actually fell asleep again during one of these back-into-the-wind sections - possibly because I had my eyes squinted shut against being sand-blasted. I woke up with Squee walking straight through a large bush and bumbling around in the undergrowth (I think he was trying to head away from the wind). Consulted the Rides with GPS track and found that we'd veered off course. Apparently Rides with GPS was also asleep, as it never warned me like it's supposed to.
Back on course again and fighting to stay awake, keep Squee on trail, and go as fast as was sensible on a horse that has no desire to go into the wind, but goes like stink every time we head away from it.
The final detour seemed interminable - why weren't we there yet?? It seemed to go on and on, into the wind. And then we were on the final track leading back to camp. At which point Squee stumbled and went down on his knees, with me nearly going over his head. He clambered back up again, took a couple more steps and tripped again. I was on the verge of getting off to lead him in the final half mile but the wind was horrendous and he was fighting me to go - apparently this had woken him up and his mission was now to get us back to camp as fast as he possibly could. There would be no getting off.
The wind was howling at this point - the large trees planted along the front of the couple of residences near camp were whipping around in an alarming way, looking like they were going to be wrenched out by the roots; the horse was fighting to go; there was a metal shipping container banging away; and it all felt like a bit too much and I was suddenly near tears - probably mostly due to fatigue and worry about Squee - but I was overwhelmed by the whole thing.
In the last block, I did manage to get off him and try to lead him "quietly" into the finish line so he would "pulse down all nicely", but all that actually happened was he dragged me forcibly along, despite the death grip on the lead rope. The wind was whipping around, he was rabidly hungry again, and just wanted TO EAT DAMMIT.
We did a final vet check with the wind crashing around us and - 100 miles done and dusted. My 7th 100 mile completion at this ride, and Squee's second 100 mile ride.
* * *
Huge thanks to Annette for crewing for me after she and Ranger were done for the day - and for staying up in the wee hours to help me with him.
* * *
The next day I missed most of the awards (I thought they started at 10, an hour later), but it turns out Squee and I won the turtle award (I wasn't sure, since we actually caught Tami and Robert Ribley at the finish line - turns out by the end they were just minutes ahead of us and if we'd made a tiny bit more effort, we would have caught them and could have ridden together) and got some swag (which isn't common when you aren't a top ten rider, so much appreciated for the donation - a rope halter, bucket, and some Doterra essential oil products from from Untamed Tack (https://www.facebook.com/Colorfultack) and Darlene LeVan... including their excellent Deep Blue Soothing Blend for poor tired muscles)
We had planned to stay over until Monday (I've come home on the Sunday after the 100 in years past, and it is seldom pretty). The pones were bundled up with plenty of food and we had no desire to sit in the windy camp listening to the buffeting wind, so instead we spent the day helping Brian go out and fetch the water troughs on trail.
It was so interesting to see the trail a) from a different view (i.e. to drive to the locations) and b) in daylight in some cases. In the dark, I'd gotten turned around and didn't realise where we'd repeated trail in reverse in a few places, where we'd ridden the trail in years past - and most of all, to have Brian explain why he routed the trail how he did.
Great care was taken to make sure we used the best possible options - particularly in the dark sections where some of the tracks we'd used in the past had suffered erosion. He'd even angled those detours deliberately so we'd be headed away from the wind along those oh-so-welcome stretches. Nice!
Big thanks to Brian Reeves and his volunteer crew for another excellent 20 Mule Team ride. I love this ride, have ridden it ten times, and come down to crew for friends a bunch of other years. Long may it continue!
* * *
We came home on Monday, again without any flat tires (this had become a thing on past trips to Ridgecrest, always necessitating a trip to the tire shop) - but I did lose the running lights on the trailer as we were coming through Auburn in the dark to drop Annette and Ranger off.
As of the following weekend, I think I've found the short, so right now the lights are working. Fingers crossed they stay that way.
Squee's glue on shoes have been removed while he takes a few weeks off, and I'm mulling over my mistakes with a resolve to "try to do better". Uh huh.
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