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What are we doin? |
Major and I successfully completed our
recent adventure at Cache Creek Ridge Ride 2015. We competed over the hilly
25-mile course, sound and happy, with energy to spare at the end. But was it a
successful ride? I’m still debating. (note: almost all photo are by my SO. I
wasn’t able to manage the horse and camera at the same time this ride...)
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vetting in: power trot |
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cute mule neighbor |
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ridecamp view |
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patiently waiting |
Arriving and vetting were unremarkable,
Major vetted in with a 40 heart rate, which is low for him (usually the
excitement gets to him). We were near friends, but not too near, with some cute
mules between us. Major thought the best part of the ride were the wild oats
growing everywhere, and took awhile to start eating and drinking the real food, but then was
a champ at both! Ride meeting was thorough and helpful, they really know how to
put on a good ride here. There were 58 starters in the 25, and more than 100 in
the 50, a good showing!
Major was eating and drinking and taking
care of himself. I wasn’t doing as well myself, and didn’t sleep much, worrying
about every detail. But morning came, I heard the 50s head off at 5:30, and
then finally got up to get Major ready. Since I haven’t competed in awhile, and
no 25s since my first ride three years ago, I was reminded of the LD “Luxury
Distance” at the leisurely 7:30 start.
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at the start, nice and calm |
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walking to the start line |
Which Major was awesome for! We walked a
couple times around the camp, let quite a few people go trotting off, then
walked out nicely, no silliness. We got to the creek crossing, started to trot
up the hill, and Major turned on the afterburners. Sigh. I knew we had to do it! Lots of hills we powered up, I was hoping to burn off a little of the
excess energy. No such luck. We passed a few people, then were behind a large
group, and that was fine with me! Major didn’t like it, but too bad.
We stayed with that group till the first
water stop, where Major actually drank! Then we fell in behind some more folks.
If there are horses ahead Major will try to chase them, so staying back a
couple horse lengths and taking it easier was working as a good plan. We were
moving out pretty quickly, but nothing that seemed unreasonable, Major would
listen to half-halts and felt strong but controlled.
Sooner than I realized we were at the top of
the long two-mile downhill into the away vet check. I got off to let Major
drink and scooped water on him (no sponging out of the troughs allowed), letting everyone else go down the hill.
Then I had to get back on the too tall beast (only ride management request:
need more mounting stumps and rocks!), but only for a bit, then I got off and
walked down into the vet check. I got off way too soon, and walked probably a
mile, with Major trying to drag me faster down the hill.
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coming into the out vet check |
But was greeted at the vet check by my
lovely SO, where Major was untacked, sponged, and pulsed in almost immediately.
Easy vet check (all As except for one gut-sound quadrant B), though I noticed
quite a few of the people who had come down the hill ahead of me were still not
pulsing down. I was then glad I had taken the extra time to walk in. Major
stuck his face is every mash pan, nibbled some alfalfa, ate a few oats, and the
half-hour hold went by too quickly.
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dragon horse is impatient |
As we headed out SO wanted a photo. Major
was already pulling and ready, but I grimaced and said “we gotta go!” This was
the purple loop, and the first part was lovely single track, lined with purple
wildflowers. I ended up with a couple people behind me, but after about three miles
I wanted to give Major a break, and let them go ahead at a water stop. Then we
were finally in our own bubble, and was able to take two whole photos of a
lovely oat-filled meadow, before Major wanted to pick up the pace again.
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wild oats |
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meadow view |
So we trotted alone, it was nice. Untill we
were caught by two fast mules (our neighbors in camp), they can fly downhills!
And from then on the ride dissolved into a battle of wills.
I must catch them!
No, you don’t need to.
But there they are! Ahead!
Yes, you’re fine.
I’m not fine, I’m losing!
Yes, you are, deal
with it.
It was exhausting. He did still drink at
troughs, but his new trick: every time I tried to get a water bottle, I hold my
reins in only one hand. And he knew it. And would try to take off. So I’d put
my bottle away and repeat. I didn’t drink enough the second loop!
There were some wide-open ridges, where I
did let him canter a little bit to see if it helped. It did not help, but it
didn’t make him worse either. But then the long downhill back to camp came.
There is a trough there, so I let people go ahead, and stayed for a little bit.
Then headed back down. Major KNEW the horses were ahead, and was awful. But I
dared not get off as the footing is slippery rocks and dirt, I just made him
walk/jig all the way down. Toward the bottom of the hill I saw the ride
photographer coming up, and while I haven’t seen the photos, that will not be a
nice one: me fighting to make Major walk, probably mouthing a bad word or 10.
Sigh.
At the bottom of the hill the locomotive was
back, and I was just tired of it. I got him stopped, did some circles, made him listen. Which lasted all of about two seconds, he was just so riled up.
So I let him power trot, though I couldn’t see anyone ahead of
us. But Major could, and as we came around a corner he saw three horses ahead
and just took off. Half-halts were ignored, full halts were ignored, I was just
a passenger. I said a few choice words, (graceful wording like “stop it you
fucker”), to no avail.
So we caught up to the other three horses,
who were not being idiots, and just stayed behind them to the finish. The
finish is under a huge oak in a grassy meadow, I was happy to be in the shade.
They took our numbers, and then told us to untack. What? Why? Because we were
top 10, fifth to be exact.
Damn. OK, I know some people who would be
happy with this, but this was not in the plan! I wanted to bring Major back
more slowly so he wouldn’t be such a stupid hot head…
But I took the tack off my spinning horse
(who did not think we were done already) and did the weigh in, before I
unceremoniously dumped my saddle on the ground and told them my SO would be
back to get it (I was not retacking my idiot horse). I walked back into camp,
surprising my waiting SO (who thought we’d be back later, so did I!) and
issuing demands to help sponge my horse (SO is very tolerant, I apologize
later).
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"Circle your horse!" What? |
We went and vetted in, pulse was already 56
and dropping. All A’s, completion success! I was happy about that part, a
healthy horse, who proceeded to literally try and drag me around camp,
certainly not tired! We went down to the creek, a much nicer place to clean him
up with lovely running cool water. I did go back an hour later and did the best
condition judging, where I had no idea how to run my horse in a circle and
probably weaved about like a drunk!
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coming back from the creek |
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in the meadow |
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hills and hiney |
There was an early LD award ceremony (where
we did not get BC) but top 10 did get a pair of gloves and
everyone got a shirt. A lot of folks left, but we were waiting for friends to
come back from the 50 (so tough and hot) and have dinner too. Major napped on
his high-tie, finally relaxed, and ate another pan of mash (he loves these
weekends just for the mash!).
So I am both happy and disappointed in this
successful finish. I really think the first part of the ride was just standard
crazy, not too fast. But I think we got through the vet check so much faster,
and then maintained pace. It really wasn’t until the last 6-8 miles that I
wanted to leave my horse behind (there were ride and tie folks on trail, maybe
they would have taken him!)
Major was exceptionally naughty trying to
catch horses ahead on trail. I need to work on him listening to me and not
playing chase. Oddly, the last half was much worse than the first. I had a lot
of fun doing the 25, but I think Major needs to move back up to the 50s and
learn how to rate himself (and listen to me).
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at home: a perfect dust bath |
Through I’ll the stress, I’m glad I did it.
I don’t know how much endurance I’ll be able to do this year, but I have a bit
more confidence that with some remedial training we might be able to have some
fun.
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I do not like your ideas, small human. |