Rowan- The First and Only
Nick Warhol
Next to my wife Judy and family, Rowan is the best friend I have. He’s a horse! How can that be? I would have never believed it possible, if it hadn’t happened to me.
Rowan is a 24 year old Arabian Gelding who’s great grand sire was the immortal stallion Fadjur. Rowan is a fifteen-hand bay with four black stockings, a black mane and tail, a little white star in the middle of his forehead and huge withers that make him look a little like a camel. He has a pair of the cutest little pointed Arabian ears you’ve ever seen. I met this amazing animal when he was 16 years young, not knowing he would forever alter the course of my life.
I bought my wife Judy her first horse, ‘Warpaint’, years ago as a hobby when she graduated from college; my plan to keep her occupied by getting her involved with a time consuming hobby absolutely backfired on me. For some strange reason I found myself incredibly drawn to this huge Appy with big teeth. I guess my biggest surprise was to learn that horses actually had personalities. In my youth I sort of assumed horses were like cows that spent their lives standing out in the field passing time. Heck- that’s all they ever seemed to be doing when you see them from a car. The only time Warpaint passes is when he’s beating the clock with his hooves on fire as he tears down the trail!
After a year of riding my mountain bike out on the trails with Judy and Warpaint, I suddenly realized I needed a horse. As luck would have it my friend Jean Schreiber (two for two at Tevis!) who helped me find Warpaint, knew about Rowan and put me in touch with his owner. I still remember the day I looked at this “horse” for the first time. He was standing in the shade under a huge tree chewing some hay as I cautiously walked up with his owner. I watched as he turned his head slowly to look at me. He stopped chewing for a second, pondering who was disturbing his lunch. I walked up and touched his neck; he looked at me with those big dark brown eyes and blinked, then started chewing again.
I had him checked out by a vet and bought him, along with his trailer. I loaded him up to take him home and much to my utter amazement his prior owner (a 6’2” male construction worker) had tears rolling down his cheek as he rubbed my new horse’s nose through the open manger door. At the time I thought the guy must have been weird or something. Crying while saying good-bye to a horse? I couldn’t relate at the time, but I know differently now.
With Jean’s help I learned how to ride my horse without falling off very often. I’m an Expert level off road motorcycle racer- how tough could it be to stay on a horse? Tougher than I thought, that’s for sure. But Rowan wouldn’t let me fall off. He’d catch my balance mistakes and adjust to keep me from falling. I didn’t know it at the time, but he was taking care of me already. We went out on the trails with Judy and Warpaint for many rides which progressively got longer and longer. Judy had to constantly fight her horse to keep him from jigging and running, but I never did. This bay wonder under my saddle was like riding a bike. He went everywhere without a spook or even a hint of fear; he just loved going out on the trails to follow the big spotted rump of his barn buddy. Trot, walk, canter, across water, trees, bridges, mud, roads, uphill, downhill, whatever I wanted, without fussing, delay, or protest.
I slowly began to figure out what this horse riding stuff was all about. It really is more than just moving across the ground like on a dirt bike. Even though there are a lot of similarities between riding horses and dirt bikes, there was something really different, something really wonderful about depending on another creature that can think for itself. This new riding experience I was enjoying started becoming a relationship. I discovered I had a natural attraction for the open spaces and trails of Northern California, but only if I could be out there exploring with my boy. My motorcycles, bicycles, skis, model airplanes, golf clubs, tennis & racquetball rackets and everything else I owned began to collect dust in the garage since I was out spending every moment possible with Rowan. God, I loved riding this horse!
Endurance! What a perfect thing to do on a horse. Jean is an avid rider, as is our other long time endurance pal, Marilyn R. Russell, both from Livermore, California. These two helped Judy and I get started in the sport, saving us a lot of aggravation in the process. My first ride was a 50 miler at Mt. Diablo that we spent over a year conditioning for. Judy and I both finished, but the ride was quite a different story for each of us. While she fought her excitable Appy the entire way, I rode along for the entire 50 miles on my perfect horse in amazement. I couldn’t walk for a week, but Rowan sure looked good after the ride. Yes, this is what you should do with your horse, no, check that; this is what you should do with your best friend.
So much for my old life. It was that ride that got me absolutely hooked on Endurance riding. There was a feeling of accomplishment I felt at the finish line I can’t possibly explain to anyone who does not ride. I’ve raced thousands of miles on a dirt bike, yet not one of those miles compared with having my best buddy carry me fifty miles willingly and cheerfully. Other Endurance riders know.
Alas. I was only able to do four 50-mile rides on Rowan. He was near 18 and had some arthritis and degenerative joint problems beginning in his fetlocks. That never slowed him down, though. He still loved going out on the trail with me on his back and that fast Appy in front of him as we pranced down the trails. Rowie took a bad step in a Shine and Shine Endurance ride and came up lame at the first check and was pulled. He recovered in a few months but would never be able to do an endurance ride again. I wasn’t sure how to feel about his retirement. I was depressed that I couldn’t ride him on long rides but on the other hand I was relieved since there was less chance anything would ever happen to him.
I waited a couple of years before I started looking for a new horse. I did a lot of crewing for Judy and Warpaint, who were beginning to become quite a formidable duo. I began taking more riding lessons, but when I realized Rowan just was not physically up to the work involved, I realized it was time for another horse. When I located my young horse Shatta, I was both excited and dejected at the same time. Now I have this absolutely phenomenal, big, strong, really neat Chestnut flyer who I love more than just about anything- anything, that is, except Rowan. As much as I love the power and strength of Shatta’s youth, I can’t forget what it’s like to go for a ride on my old boy; the relaxed, calm, powerful, steady walk that’s so familiar to me. I tried to explain once to someone who doesn’t own a horse what it meant to me to ride my old friend. That’s one of those things that equestrians are lucky enough to experience in their lives.
What’s in store for the old geezer? He lives at our ranch next to his buddy Warpaint. I went though a tough year when Rowan was almost too lame to ride due to a rear ligament injury. Thanks to my vet, Brian Umstead, and Adequan, Rowie is back on the trails once again. I have some friends who come up and help me ride him as often as possible and I still get on his back at least once a week for a nice easy ride. We often go out in the park for long walks with me on the ground and him by my side, his ears always forward with enthusiasm. As much as I ride Shatta now I can’t help but feel bad as we load the two younger horses up in the trailer as Rowan watches from his stall with those ears up and his big, brown eyes fixed on us. That’s okay, don’t worry, Rowie, I’ll be back soon. I’ll get you back out there on the trails with me as often as I can, for as long as you will live. I promise.