The definition of a “pardnership” between a horse and rider would have to be Judy Long and her endurance Appaloosa, Nachi Sunshine, better known as “Warpaint.”  This duo has been through more in their short ten years together than any horse and rider I’ve known about.   Warpaint was Judy’s first horse; in retrospect he was not the best choice for a new rider.  The amazing thing is that neither Judy nor Warpaint knew what the other was in for at the beginning of this relationship. The good thing is that they are both still with us today.   Warpaint was a wild, green, powerful, and absolutely difficult 6-year-old gelding that had been through a few owners in his brief life, mostly because of his “Appy-tude.”  Judy is a naturally talented, athletic, and mostly stubborn individual who had always loved horses, especially Appys.   Their riding career together began with a trail ride where the two parted company; after she came off, he ran all the way back to the trailer.   She got up, walked back to the staging area, and found him eating at the hay bag on the side of the trailer.  She got back on.  I think Warpaint narrowed his eyes, looked at her, and thought: “Oh yeah?”   She shook off the dust, looked back at him and said: “Yeah.”   That early interaction between rider and horse would be the cornerstone of their relationship in the future.

            Judy got into endurance because it seemed like the only thing she could do with this horse.   He was terrible on trail rides with other horses; he would only jig, or spin, or leap sideways, or even rear a few times.  All he wanted to do was run, and that’s all he would do.   Her first endurance ride was quite an event.  The horse ran the whole 50 miles.  The whole way!  She fought and fought that horse until her arms could not hold on and his lips were bleeding.   At the first vet check, the horse was running in circles around her.   Steve Gardner (Warpaint’s first ever ride vet), stood there with his stethoscope, watching the carnage and wondering how he was going to get in there to get his pulse.  The two of them somehow got the horse recovered and through the check.  Talk about stressful!   They finished the ride; as hard as it was, and as tired as she was, Judy won the first battle.   One of my very favorite memories of Warpaint was when we went back to the trailer after the awards ceremony and found him sleeping soundly, standing up, with his head and shoulder leaning on the side of the trailer holding him up.

            This determined duo did more and more rides, with Judy fighting him all the way.  People would shake their heads when they would see Judy longing her horse at a canter before the start of a ride.  Many Northern California riders remember the first time they saw Judy and Warpaint on the trail.  It would usually be when they were passed at a run by the flying Appy.  Becky Glazer sums it up well when she remembers the first time she saw Judy: “Wow, that’s a nice looking horse.  I hope that woman doesn’t get killed.”  Judy Reens came up to Judy after a ride and told her: “I’m not used to being passed, I mean really passed, by an Appy.”  They finished their first ten or so fifties before they attempted their first hundred miler.  That ought to slow him down!  Not a chance.  Warpaint pulled Judy through their first hundred-mile ride, even though she was sick as a dog while riding at night.   They finished at 2:00 am with Judy looking like the dead, but the Appy was still going strong.  Another one of my favorite endurance memories was when head vet Mitch Benson was doing the post ride check at 2:30 am or so.  You have to picture this:  Mitch is, what, about seven feet tall?  Judy’s about five-four or so.  Barely able to stand from the ride and being so sick, she told him, in a calm and collected voice,  that if he pulled her now, she’d have to kill him.  His eyes got big; he smiled this incredible smile and laughing, he told her Warpaint looked just fine.  I remember getting choked up when she hugged him.

            Warpaint and Judy stuck it out through some trying times.  She and her horse would have some great successes, then suffer through disaster after disaster.   Warpaint finished his first Tevis, cantering across the finish.  The duo completed their first ever multi-day at the Death Valley Encounter and finished in the top ten overall, with a 5^th on the last day.   They entered the really difficult Big Creek 100 and finished 6^th.   All this on a horse who runs the whole way and won’t stand still.  Then disaster struck.  Warpaint went down a week or so later with a major colic.  We took him to Davis and had two huge entroliths (stones) removed from his insides.   He made it through the surgery and began his long recovery period.   After 6 months she began to ride again.  He came right back and did the first couple of days at Death Valley, but suffered a bad quarter crack from a hoof that was compromised by his surgery.   It took almost a year for that to grow out.  They got back on the trail at the Race of Champions in Utah.  A lone Appy among all those great Arabians!  He was doing well until he lost a shoe and came up foot sore at about 45 miles. 

            Back on the trail again, they entered Tevis for their second attempt, but thanks to more bad luck, they were one of the unlucky horses that slipped down on the infamous paved bike path at Squaw Valley.   Warpaint stuck it out but was pulled at Robinson Flat with a hock injury.   That took a few months to get better.  She brought him back again and began finishing rides.  But an unlucky trip to Las Vegas injured his stifle this time that took more months to heal.   She brought him back again and started finishing rides, all the while trying to get this nutty horse to calm down.  There was the time at the Twenty Mule Team 100 when she and Warpaint were leading the ride up at the College, about five miles after the start.  He jumped a ditch, she fell off, he took of across the desert the opposite way from the rest of the horses.  We spent the whole day looking for him, including hiring an airplane to search from the air.  Twelve hours later Judy was faced with the possibility of losing him.  She outwardly said: “Maybe he’s gone, maybe I can get another horse.”  But I knew better when I saw the look on her face when she saw him that evening, tied to the trailer, eating.  My mother crewed for us at the Fireworks ride one year and was a little startled to hear Judy ask for a gun to shoot the horse as she led him into the check at a canter. (She was walking next to him at the time)  She got back on and finished the ride.   Judy entered him in an IAHA Competitive Trail Ride once, and only once.  Big mistake.  The Competitive Trail Ride pace was just too slow for Warpaint.  Actually- the Kentucky Derby is just about the right pace for this horse.

Judy went through a short period where Warpaint decided she was not allowed on his back.  He would take off at a run when she would mount.  She fell off three times in one day and was quite shaken.  Get rid of the horse?  No way.  She was shaking when she took the horse to Donna Snyder-Smith to get some advice.  Donna took charge and helped Judy win Warpaint’s confidence back.  In only a couple of hours she was back on his back and riding, him running in place.

            They have stuck it out and finished about 15 rides in a row over the last couple of years with a pull at 90 miles (for a sore foot caused by sand under his pads) at 20 Mule Team while they were doing very well.  She finished Tevis again last year, as well as another 4 days at Death Valley.   The horse is 20 miles short of 3000 miles now.  If people only knew what she was going through with that horse out there on the trail.  The first time I ever rode him, I swung my leg over his back; he reared up, smashed my face with his head and took off running away with me seeing stars.  I swore that would be the last time I ever tried that.

            I understand now.   When I’d see her in tears, I’d suggest she sell the animal so she could enjoy doing rides.  She wouldn’t give up.  I never understood it and thought she must be somewhat crazy deep, down, inside her somewhere.   I tried riding him again and found he was unlike any horse I’ve ever ridden. I rode Warpaint in two fifties last year, and then finished Tevis on him, in 32^nd place.  I now understand what she has done with this animal.  She did it- she has changed him; she won the war.  He’s a different horse now than he used to be, because of, and only because of Judy’s incredible desire (and her stubborn streak) to win over this beast. She has spent countless hours out in the barn taking care of him. She has some sort of connection with this horse that I never understood until I rode him in rides.   He has the most heart of any horse I’ve ever ridden and will do anything for his rider.  I was frantic at the finish of Tevis two years ago, after finishing on my horse.  It was 4:45 am (15 minutes until cutoff at the finish), but no Judy and Warpaint.  I was sure they wouldn’t make it.  At eleven minutes before five they came cantering across the finish.  After my heart got back in my chest I asked her how she had made it.  “I was getting late after Deadwood, so I just asked him to pick it up a bit on the California loop.”  I can just picture that.   It turns out she rode the last 30 miles of the ride, at night, without a contact lens that she had donated to a low hanging tree branch.  Stop?  No way, not when the horse can get her through. 

But the real reason they made it is because of Judy.  She stuck it out with this horse, far beyond the realm of most mortals, regardless of the problems and setbacks she and Warpaint have suffered through.    Falls, runaways, terrible horse injuries, bad luck, frustration, anger: nothing stopped her.  Yes, she’s stubborn, but she and her horse can’t be separated.   He’ll do whatever she needs because of their relationship.   I know she and Warpaint will continue to succeed, as long as they keep riding together.  Why?  That’s easy.  Because he’s her “Pardner,” and always will be.