I got passed, and passed big, for
second place right at the finish line of the third day of the Wild West 50-mile
ride in
We began trotting down some great
mountain jeep trails; we were sailing along, just enjoying the moment, with me
wondering who was behind me. We hit the
last water stop, and after a long drink and more electrolytes, we headed down
the hill for the last leg. It was a
nice, soft, two-track road down the mountain.
We trotted quickly down the trail, heading closer and closer to the
finish. No horses from behind. We got to a paved area that served as a rest
stop for water and hay- another long drink and a few bites of hay, and off we went.
There were about 40 cars full of people there as we trotted through the
lot- they looked at me a little strangely.
Where is the course? Oh, there it
is. Yikes- now I’m getting
paranoid. I’ve never been in front like
this before. On we went, closer and
closer to the finish, I keep glancing behind me; there are no horses visible
from behind. Warpaint is feeling so
good- he’s just trucking along at his fast trot. We went down a hill, down some slow, tight,
trails, then onto a nice, flat, graded road that headed for home. This must be it. I didn’t know where the finish was, but it
had to be coming up. We trotted along at
a nice clip, the horse just moving effortlessly, but pretty fast. I heard an engine- there was a motorcycle
coming up behind me. No problem-
Warpaint is fine with anything. I
glanced back at the rider and waved him by as I kept on trotting. He waved as he passed slowly, then he
accelerated up the road. Very nice. A few
moments later, here comes another one.
Same thing- I glanced back and made eye contact, I waved him by, he rode
past and off he went with a wave. The
finish has to be close now, yes, there’s the quarter mile to the finish
sign. More trotting,
same wonderful pace, same low heart rate. This is so cool,
we’re going to do it! Here comes another
bike, only going a bit faster. I move
over on the road and wave him by, but there was a car coming towards us, so I
didn’t turn around. He rides by, going a
little faster, maybe 25 mph or so.
But suddenly, as
the bike rides by, I see a horse! There
goes Dave Cootware, on his gray horse, at an absolute
dead run, tucked in right behind the
motorcycle! Right on his rear
fender! The bike rider didn’t know
Dave was there! Dave was grinning ear to
ear, laughing loudly as he flashed by us, yelling: “HAY!
I GOT YOU! I caught you! Yee HAWW!!!” I couldn’t believe it! He had used the motorcycle as a shield
device, so neither I, or Warpaint, would hear a horse
coming up behind us. He had just caught
us before the big road and was hanging back, waiting for the right moment to
make his move. The third bike came by-
that was the chance Dave was looking for.
As he and his horse raced by, Warpaint looked over, then came to life
and took off after that little grey at a run, but it was too late. Dave was already gone. He had me by a hundred feet, and three turns
later, there it is- the finish line.
Warpaint wanted to go after Dave- it was pretty obvious the gauntlet had
been thrown, and the Appy wanted that little
Arab. We come blazing across the line,
dust and gravel flying, while the finish line timers are staring at the
spectacle with their eyes as big as saucers.
Dave had done it, yes sir, he passed us.
And what a pass it was. A little sneaky, yes, a little devious, sure, and creative? You bet!
But it was certainly one of the classic finish line passes ever. I wasn’t disappointed at all. Besides- he earned the second, after what he
had to go through to catch back up with me.
I didn’t realize until after the finish that Dave wanted those first
place middleweight points. Yeah, Dave, I bet you’d have let us go on in for
second if I was a featherweight! We had
a lot of fun kidding around after the ride, and I hassle him about it to this day.
But did I
care? Are you kidding? I just finished what had to be one of the
neatest rides of my life. It was perfect
in every aspect. The best part was
Warpaint’s continued perfect scores and soundness after the ride. Judy was a little shocked to say the least,
but felt happy and proud of her incredible horse. Once again, he has beaten the odds and made a
come back from another injury. One woman
I passed asked me why more Appy’s didn’t do
endurance, my answer is always the same:
“This one here, this Warpaint, he’s one in a million.”
PS: Congratulations,
Dave, and next time I’ll use my motorcycle.
Let’s see if you can keep up with that!
Nick Warhol