Quoting Julie Suhr: How Will You Know How Far You Can Go Until You’ve Gone Too Far?
Far and I took on the ultimate challenge last weekend and I daresay we are both stronger beings as a result of it, and I have yet to find my own answer to Julie Suhr’s question. . .
I have felt drawn back to the Tevis trail since riding it two years ago on a wonderful horse lent to me by a generous friend. There is not a more challenging trail and there may only be a few trails on earth more beautiful and more liberating than the Western States Trail. I have yet to find them. I rode in Easyboot Glue-On boots this year, and the difference from riding in steel shoes was quite remarkable.
Far is one of those horses you know will only cross your path once in your life. I am fascinated in his curious mind and by a fire that burns in him very deeply. He grew up in the large open spaces of the mountains in the interior of British Columbia and he loves life.
I have transitioned three of my own horses to barefoot in the last 13 weeks and I have been around many other horses in the area who have decided to make the move from steel shoes to barefoot. Each horse responds very differently to the change and Far has been the horse who has adapted the most easily of them all. His movement barefoot and in the Gloves and Glue-Ons seemed immediately more comfortable for him than in steel shoes, and his feet look better than they ever have. It seemed fitting, then, to take on the challenge of the Tevis trail: what better test for the latest in many years of equine boot technology?
Far and I managed to pre-ride most of the last 17 miles of the trail into Auburn in various sections with Leslie Spitzer in the week prior to the ride. We went up to Robie Park on Thursday – and I’m glad we did. We got a better choice of camp spots and it gave us a chance to get the Glue-Ons applied by Garrett and the EasyCare Team before pre-riding the first few miles of the trail. Far was a monster on the pre-ride on Thursday and I wondered if he would be too much for me at the start line with 180 horses around him. It weighed heavily on my mind.
The start was smooth – other riders were polite through the controlled walking section to the official start line. He had a quick moment of panic when he crossed the first footbridge and stepped his left hind off the bridge entirely – just long enough to realize he would not be able to touch the ground with that leg before pulling it back up and continuing on. That was one of the few times I looked down to see if the boot was still on – it was. I was further back in the crowd than I wanted to be – the speed was already slower than I wanted and I knew we had to get ahead of some of the groups if we were to ride to the strategy we had planned.
We managed to dart past about 40 riders before we got down to the ski-hill road: we were riding in tune with each other, each of us knowing what the other wanted. He felt strong – very strong – and we walked and trotted up the Squaw Valley towards Emigrant Pass before coming to the first water and hay at High Camp at 13 miles. He demonstrated almost none of the tripping I remembered from the previous year and the boots felt like they took the much of the concussion out of the hard-packed road. It was like jogging in running shoes.
We pulled into Lyon Ridge at 25 miles and trotted through. I refilled water bottles, let Far eat and drink for a few minutes and continued on up and over Cougar Rock. What a rush to be back on that rock with a horse I know and trust so well. The boots took all the slip out of the rock – it really felt like we were riding on suction cups across the rock face as we climbed. I looked back over my shoulder and enjoyed the breathtaking views. What a sight: those images will keep you coming back for more.
Far ate up the miles to Robinson Flat voraciously, flying down the road as it rose and sank all the way to the first hold. In the prior year the road seemed like an unforgiving section of trail because it was so hard. This year I hardly noticed because the foot lands so much softer in boots. I was soon sittting in the shade of a pine tree enjoying a tuna salad sandwich and a Starbucks Double Shot. My trusty crew made up of Rusty, Bill and Leslie all know me and the horse well enough that I did not have to think.
I stayed for ten minutes at the Deadwood vet check while he ate and drank before setting off down the 2,665 foot descent to Eldorado Canyon.I remembered the trail as being somewhat scary because of the drop-offs, but I have so much trust in this horse that it seemed like we were meant to be there, adding up the miles at a good speed. Far felt fresh and eager and we were soon approaching El Dorado Creek. Far tanked up on fresh water and then we set off back up the canyon towards Michigan Bluff.We walked and trotted our way down the 1,700 foot drop to the infamous Swinging Bridge. I got off and hiked the steeper sections. We spent a few minutes down at the bottom while he drank from the river and I crossed the bridge on foot. As the bridge began to swing ever so slightly, Far’s pace quickened considerably and I found myself holding him back behind me. For a moment I though he might start to run, but we got to the other side without incident and I remounted for the 1,565 foot climb up to Devil’s Thumb.
I tailed him about 90% of the way up. I arrived at Michigan Bluff fairly dazed, but Far looked great and the trusty crew was there to give me encouraging words and steer me in the direction towards the Chicken Hawk vet check. We trotted along the road with the comforting feeling of the boots gripping the asphalt. Far felt like a freight train – strong and willing and eager. The boots just seemed to give more spring to Far’s already lofty gait.
We paused for a while at the Chicken Hawk vet check: he vetted through with lots of spring in his trot before setting off towards the milestone of Foresthill. Climbing up Bath Road is such fun – people are lined along the street in the chairs – they clap and cheer when you arrive. One of the people in the crowd asked me if I was using spray-on boots. Glue-Ons are probably the closest thing I suppose! Far vetted through without any issues and I enjoyed the hour hold immensely by eating a tuna salad sandwich and a huge bowl of home-made fruit salad.
I had fun this year trotting through the town of Foresthill– not even changing my speed as we trotted across the black-top, much to the shock of the volunteers who were convinced we would slip as we went from trail to road. I remember thinking the slight downhill grade last time was risky as the hind shoes slipped a little as we walked and trotted our way down to the trail. This year was very different – we skipped through town at a nice clip without even so much as a skid on the slick pavement.
I was fortunate to have more than an hour of daylight to get me through the most technical parts of this trail and I managed to make up some good time. I was grateful to catch up to Christina and to enjoy her good humor and good conversation. Dave Rabe would catch us a few miles before getting to Francisco’s in the soupy blackness along the rest of the California Loop. It was an enchanted night.
We arrived at the Francisco’s vet check at 11:19. The volunteers were punchy and the food for horse and rider was plentiful. The vets were plucky and so was my horse. Dave and Christina both agreed we should continue riding together, and off we set. When Christina got to the road, she trotted off and we stayed at a walk. We should have stayed with her: we missed the trail turn-off at the bottom of the hill and instead walked most of the hill up before realizing there were no ribbons and no glow sticks. We probably lost about 20 minutes in the process. We hand-walked and cussed our way back down the hill to the turn-off and rode the single-track trail for the three miles to the American River crossing.
Far pulled and pulled his way towards the Lower Quarry vet check. This was one of the points in the trail last time where my horse showed signs of soreness on the rocky road. Not this time. We vetted through at Lower Quarry at mile 94 at 1:56 AM. The volunteers were helpful and generous and each horse had the luxury of a loaned wool blanket on its rump. We paused for a few minutes, but the finish line in Auburn was within reach and we were eager to get there.
It would take us just over an hour to finish the last five miles of trail. We were riding to make sure the horses finished without issue and there are some technical sections down there in the blindness. Far marched his way up the final hill to the finish line. He drank, vetted through, and was pronounced fit to continue. The buckle was ours: what a horse: is he a horse!
No comments:
Post a Comment