A lesson in enduring…
Every rider has a story where they first encounter what it means to be a true endurance rider. As a Limited Distance rider, I’m sure I’ll have bigger stories than this one when I move up in distance. But, at this point in my story, this ride had me the most fire spitting mad and the closest I’ve been to wanting to quit and instead having to dig down and cling to the word “Endure.”
Biltmore is an absolutely gorgeous estate nestled in the mountains of North Carolina. I’m not going to go into the history of the property as I don’t know it and on this particular occasion I was not there to learn it. I do plan on going back, sans horse agenda, to truly appreciate the history and architecture of the estate. For this trip however, I wanted to ride the grounds and appreciate the beauty.
For two years I had been hounding my trailer buddy and ride mate to go to Biltmore. Since she will be taking a sabbatical from riding to focus on personal health and it’s my birthday, we finally decided to do it as a last “hurrah” since we won’t know when, if ever, we’ll be racing together again.
Want just the video? Click here.
But you should read the whole experience.
To learn more about Biltmore Estate, please visit their site here
The lead up…
Our plan was to race both the 25 and 30 mile distances. The 25 LD was held on May 3rd and the 30 LD was on May 4th, my birthday. The lead up to the race was a stressful story in itself. After FITS, Roach developed a bad case of rain rot. FITS was just dirty, west, humid, stressful, full of bugs, essentially all the ingredients you need for an outbreak of rain rot. (Don’t know what rain rot is? You can read about it here)
I had to let his skin heal, but I also had a new saddle I needed to break in for the Biltmore ride. With my bad shoulder and the pain my western saddle was causing me at rides, I can’t tolerate using it anymore as my endurance saddle. So I had to carefully take the month between FITS and Biltmore to lightly break in the new saddle while taking care to not exacerbate Roach’s rain rot.
In addition to needing to break in a new saddle, I also had to break in a set of new Scoot Boots. I decided he needed protection on all four of his feet. If you don’t know already, Roach is barefoot (meaning he doesn’t wear shoes for my non-horsey folk). Usually, we ride with front foot protection, but due to the rigors of this ride and consulting with other riders who have done this ride in the past, I decided to order a set for his rear feet. So that’s two new pieces of equipment I was breaking in before the ride on top of needing to baby his skin to ensure we would be ready and healthy for Biltmore.
Race Day
On race day, I couldn’t even recognize my mule. Roach was real saucy and as ready to go as I’d ever seen him in my life. Now his level of saucy is not Arabian Endurance Horse saucy, so don’t be thinking he was a snorting mess of “I DEMAND TO GO NOW!” However, he did throw a petulant crow hop in when he disagreed with my orders to simmer down. And that’s pretty explosive for him.
The trail opened up and, as usual, we let the front packers go on ahead to have a more sedate start ourselves. Roach was outwalking Jessie at a good pace. As I said, he was ready to go.
However, our fortune was short-lived. At a spectacular view of the Biltmore, I had to dismount to do a tack adjustment. Which isn’t a big deal or all that unusual when you’ve just started a race. It’s better to catch it early than late. Unfortunately, that was the least of our troubles. On our first ascent into the mountains, Angel lost a boot off Jessie’s rear. Since I’m almost always behind her, I was able to see it and called Angel. She turned around, came back, got it, had to put it back on, then had to mount back up. That lost time and that was bothersome but what can you do? We were in this together.
We move on and try to gain back some time and everything seems to be going well. I was in front of Jessie and Angel at this point. Jessie has race-brain, which means she doesn’t care what’s going on, she wants to be in front. What non-riders might not understand is that our equine 100% have their own personalities and quirks and we, as the rider, are in constant communication, debate, and negotiation with them. The animal is constantly telling us what they’re thinking about and how they’re feeling and we are constantly adjusting to respond to that.
When a horse has race-brain, they’re not paying attention to their speed and what it might mean for them later or where they’re putting their feet. Essentially, they’re hyper focused on running down other horses. With Jessie behind us, she was furious. She took a wrong step and her front boot is now gone. We didn’t realize she had lost it until later since I was not behind them. Jessie also has tender soles. Remember, I said every equine is 100% their own person. That means physically as well as mentally. So while Roach can go on without boots and I use them as a precaution and extra comfort, Jessie absolutely cannot. So, Angel told us to go on with them as she went to hunt back for the boot. We were only 4.5 miles into the race at this point. Like I said, it was bad from the get go.
Angel’s story: She did not resume the race. She walked for a bit until she was able to get back on Jessie and rode at a walk back to camp. In camp, she paid the onsite farrier for a set of shoes to do the following day’s race.
Roach absolutely hates riding alone and he hates leaving Jessie even more. It took some arguing and persuasion to have him move on. I knew at this point our speed would dramatically be reduced. Roach has zero race-brain and is primarily focused on self-preservation. This has its pluses and its drawbacks. The plus is he won’t let me accidentally push him over any physical threshold whether that’s speed when he’s already tired or going over bad terrain too quickly where he might injure himself. The flip side of that means without a buddy to watch and say “it’s okay to go fast through here,” he dramatically reduces his speed since he begins to think more independently without the herd to give him warnings. It’s a very interesting dynamic in our relationship and one I’m hoping to condition him out of. Not conditioning out of self-preservation, but conditioning out of herd reliance and seeing ME, not our herd mates, as his cue giver. With mules, the trust in the individual is very important and we’ve come a very long way in our relationship in that regard.
Back to the story…
We crossed the FBR bridge and, for the most part, the ride was slow but uneventful. I was also riding slower because I had no idea what the rest of the ride would be, it was our first mountain ride, plus the views were gorgeous.
The view of the vineyards was stunning. However, luck wasn’t on our side that day. As we were descending down into the valley, three Great Pyrenese guarding the sheep flock charged the fence at us. I tried hollering to a couple of riders ahead of us and, despite seeing us having trouble, they did not stop to assist. Most riders in endurance will stop to assist if they see a rider (especially a solo rider) having trouble to make sure everyone is safe. Unfortunately, these were not those riders. I tried to give them the benefit of the doubt but that was dashed when they openly admitted to me later in the race that they saw me having trouble and just kept moving.
Here’s the thing about sheep and their guard dogs. The sheep follow them. So not only did I have three Great Pyrenese, but I had a flock of sheep “flocking this way.” On top of that, Roach was watching “safety” (safety being those two other horses who kept moving) leave us. In a nutshell, that’s a very dicey situation to be in. Roach can, has, and will bolt in panic which he promptly attempted to do. I was prepared though and sat through two crow hops and a small rear as he attempted to make his escape. When he was still, I decided to not take chances and dismounted. I had no idea how I would get back on, but better to be on the ground voluntarily than involuntarily.
This is why it is always useful to ride with a halter under your bridle or as part of your bridle and have a lead rope or snap reins. I unclipped one side of my reins and reclipped to his halter and then did the same with the other. The big reason I prefer this, is I do not want to yank on his mouth if he is spooking or anything like that. He was still highly alarmed but settled much better once I was on the ground beside him. I put myself between him and the dogs/fence/sheep. He was still hesitant until one of the dogs barked and I hollered, “Ay! Simmer down! That’s enough!” Then it was almost like Roach said, “Yeah, that’s right! Listen to MY tiny predator!” and we marched right on by.
I decided to walk a bit before getting back on to make sure he had his nerves together and could stand quietly. Now my issue was how to remount. We’ve lost water weight so his girth is looser, he’s sweaty so he’s slicker, and I’m tired and unnerved so I’ve got the exhausted adrenaline shakes. I attempted twice I think. When I literally fell on my butt, I just decided to walk and pray I wasn’t last so the turtle could pick me. Thankfully, I was right and the turtle did help me up. Back in the day when I first started, I used to carry a step stool with me and I got made fun of for carrying everything but the kitchen sink with me. So I pared down and stopped carrying all that. Every single thing in that original kit with the exception of my first aid kit would have been used on this ride. I’m going back to carrying my big kit after this race.
I attempted twice I think. When I literally fell on my butt, I just decided to walk and pray I wasn’t last so the turtle could pick me. Thankfully, I was right and the turtle did help me up. Back in the day when I first started, I used to carry a step stool with me and I got made fun of for carrying everything but the kitchen sink with me. So I pared down and stopped carrying all that. Every single thing in that original kit with the exception of my first aid kit would have been used on this ride. I’m going back to carrying my big kit after this race.
Endurance: the fact or power of enduring an unpleasant or difficult process or situation without giving way
I very quickly found out that my information had been incorrect. The 9.9 miles that made up loop two were all ascents and descents. Roach and I were moving at a good clip, eager to make up the time we had lost. When I headed out of the hold, we had one hour and thirty minutes to complete the second loop to make the 2:00 pm cut off time. Between all the stops we had to do on the first loop and his hesitancy to move out from leaving Jessie, we had absolutely zero room for fault in riding our second loop. But, barring any issues, I was actually feeling pretty confident we could do it. He felt good and confident too.
However, as with the first loop, we had issues around the 4 mile mark. I was informed by the riders behind us we had lost a boot. The worst thing about this was we had just done some serious slopes and now we had to back track almost a mile for the boot and lower than we normally could because I needed to be mindful of his feet.
I was pissed. I was so mad. I was angry and upset and close to tears. This was supposed to be a fabulous fun ride with my friend and here I was, hot, tired, alone, everything going wrong. I found the boot which is better than not finding it since his boots are $100+ per boot. I dismounted in the mud bog and tried to see what had happened. At the time, I believed the mud collar had broken since it was missing and that’s how he had stepped out of it as the mud sucked on it. I no longer think that’s what happened, but I’ll go into that later.
I did not have duct tape or a spare mud collar or anything since I had not been traveling with a big kit. But I do ride with my hair in a hair tie and a hairnet over it. So I took my hair tie and tied it around the mud collar and now I had to figure out how to get back on. There were no suitable logs and we were on an incline. So walking it is.
As with the dogs, I reclipped his reins to the halter and off we went. The good thing is walking back up the inclines while incredibly tiring for me, gave Roach a good break from me. Eventually we hiked on foot all the way back to where I had turned around. A little bit past that I was able to find a ledge and mounted from the right side. Note to self, I need to practice mounting from the right more just to help it be more natural when it’s more convenient to mount from the right than left.
Off we went again so miserably far behind now. I was fairly convinced at this point we weren’t making it in time, but we were going to try. Cantering through the woods we went.
Good boy! We’re doing good, making up time. We might do it! A mud hole. A misstep. A fwahp, fwahp, fwahp. Oh for the love of cheezy crackers.
We slow to a walk and I look over his right shoulder. Sure enough, that boot at least is still there but is hanging around his ankle. Hey, my hair tie worked! So why isn’t his foot in it?
I dismounted and that’s when I figured out what likely happened. His front scoot boots have over 500 miles on them at this point. His toe straps had stretched out over time, and they just weren’t holding his boot in place over mud anymore. Once again, I didn’t have my big kit. I removed the boot, clipped it to my saddle, and started walking.
I was so mad. I had told myself at the first mud hole that I just needed to endure. This time it felt like the universe was just against me on this ride. As we were walking, I realized Roach wasn’t bothered much by our circumstance and that here I was, at the Biltmore, in the woods alone with MY mule and we were fine and dandy. It wasn’t going how I had planned but that didn’t mean it had to be bad. Only I could make it bad. I decided to just enjoy myself.
I figured why not send a snapchat about this little revelation. I didn’t have much else to do while walking. As I was recording, I saw on my screen two horses coming up behind us! I called out if they would help me get back on, and these two girls are great. I had fun with them and enjoyed them earlier on the trail as well. One of them was getting married the following day and I truly hope her wedding day was everything she deserved it to be.
We tried to keep up but Roach was too concerned about his bare foot. I couldn’t blame him for that, I was concerned about it too. We decided to walk. He was walking so slow and cautiously and I could not convince him to move out.
Before we knew it, we were well and truly alone in the woods of North Carolina. Every now and again, when the ground looked safe, we moved out at a trot and canter to try to make some time but the footing was very concerning and if I had to dismount again, I knew I was well and truly walking the rest of the way to camp.
While we walked, I called my friend to help pass the time and ease my nerves. Horses also like talking so I figured talking to my friend would help both Roach and myself. It would ease my anxiety and breathing which would help him on top of hearing my voice. It didn’t help my nerves that someone had mentioned a rider had come in over time the previous year due to a mama bear and her cubs being on trail.
I was sorely disappointed we were definitely not going to complete in time, but it was scary, magical, confidence building and anxiety-inducing to be out in the woods alone with Roach. Nothing worth having is easy. You don’t build confidence without anxiety.
I would like to say we were fine, we weren’t. Roach is a bit of a nervous nelly when alone and so am I. But we worked it out. We were nervous together and we got through it together. Passing each other small pieces of confidence like sharing kindling to start a life saving fire in the wilderness.
We made it through. We made it into camp at 40 minutes over time. I was very disappointed but we made it through a lot and did all our mileage. We had to do a safety check which we passed and were cleared to attempt the following day’s 30 mile if we chose to. I was so grateful he didn’t have any damage from his lost boot.
Both of us were mentally, emotionally, and physically drained, I didn’t know if I had it in me to ask either of us to attempt the thirty. Later, I told Angel if she fixed my boots (I had brought all my repair stuff thankfully) I would at least ride the first fifteen. Then, later as I was massaging Roach, I realized how good he felt. That made up my mind. We would attempt the full thirty pending a good vet hold and vindicate ourselves.
And we did.
Lea, I love your new blog! I do want to let you know there’s a couple of paragraphs repeated that refer to halter/bridles and walking. I thought you’d like to know 🙂
Thanks and thanks for the catch! I updated it.