The Tevis 2004, the 50th anniversary ride.

 

Quote from unknown first time rider, standing in vet line at Deadwood: “Man, the Tevis really is all that it’s cracked up to be.”

 

Yes, it is.  It is all that, and much more.  This ride means so much, to so many people.  I’m still not quite sure why, but the Tevis is a giant magnet.  “A magnet that attracts lunatics,” one person said.   Yeah, I agree with that statement, but I’m proud to consider myself a lunatic.  I was back again this year, trying again to finish this ride.  It would be my sixth start, and I’m having about the same success rate that the odds dictate I should have.  The completion rate for this ride has always been right around 50%, sometimes a little lower, sometimes a tad higher, but just about half of the starting riders don’t finish.  No, I didn’t finish this year.  That makes my record six starts, three finishes, and two completions.  (I was pulled at the finish on my first attempt)  That’s 33.3%.   At this rate, it will take me another 36 years to get that 20 completions I’m after.  Hmm, lets see, carry the one, that will make me 83!  But I’m not worried, because I will do it, and I know I can do it, because Julie Suhr is my inspiration.

 

I want to mention Julie here, up front, because she’s that important.  It would be impossible for anyone who has never completed the Tevis to really understand the incredible courage that this remarkable woman has.  It’s not like she has anything to prove- she has finished this ride 22 times.  I believe she just turned, or is about to turn eighty years old.   She started this 50th anniversary ride for the sheer love of it.  She is addicted to it, and always has been.  I think I know how she feels, because for some weird reason I feel the same way, as do many other returning riders.   Before the ride, Julie had some reservations about being able to finish; her plan was to start the ride, go as far as she could, and enjoy every mile she could of the trail she loves so much.  She made it 98.5 miles on her wonderful horse Tarrah, owned by Tammy Robinson, before she had to stop.   In typical Julie Suhr fashion, she demanded the rider who was riding with her, Lori Stewart, go on ahead and finish and get her completion.  That’s Julie Suhr.  Julie, and I say this from the heart, and from every rider who has ever started the Tevis, I have more respect for you than words could ever convey.  You are the heart and soul of this sport, and you always will be.  Congratulations for riding the 50th anniversary of the Tevis, and if were in my power, I would have physically moved the finish line to Robie point.  But you know what Julie would have said?   She would flash that incredible smile, and say: “Oh, that doesn’t matter, you don’t need to do that.  I had a wonderful ride, just a wonderful ride!”  

 

It took me four horses to even start this year.  My first plan was to find a horse to borrow, but we decided I would put the time in to prepare and ride our horse Wabi, but he came up lame at a shine and shine ride in the spring and would not be able to make it.  I started looking for a horse, and Hugh Vanderford came to my rescue!  I could ride his nice horse Stormy.  I was thrilled, until the day in June I was going to go out and pick him up; he tore his leg up in a fence accident, and as a result needed serious repair.  (He will be fine, thank goodness.)   So then I started calling everyone I knew, and met Peter Rich.  He had a stand by horse for me, in fact a great horse, Shadow, who had placed 8th last year under the guidance of Jenni Smith.  Wow!  I met Shadow and went with Peter’s group on two pre-rides; the first from Robinson Flat to Foresthill, then 2 weeks later from Foresthill to the finish.   He is indeed a nice horse!  The first ride went great, but on the second ride Shadow came up lame with an unknown injury.  Groan!  We didn’t know how bad it was, and the horse was sound a week later, but still, should he go?  I hate this!  I was worrying about what to do, when a couple days before the ride, Hugh called and told me the other horse he owned was available again, since the rider who was scheduled to go had hurt her foot in a strange elevator related injury at work.  That was certainly bad luck for her, but I said, sure, I’d ride the mare.  Peter was great about it- he would watch Shadow and if they thought he’d be okay, he’d find another rider for him.   I met my horse on Friday afternoon before the ride; her name is Hyannis Lady, a GIANT Anglo Arab mare, about 16.2 or more, and 1100 pounds.  Hugh and Gloria had bred her from very good endurance stock; she has only done a few rides, but she finished the Virginia City 100, and that baby is none too easy.   The other good news was I would be able to ride with Gloria again; she and I rode every second of the ride together in 2002 up until Francisco’s, where I was pulled for lameness, but she went on to get her ninth completion.  Gloria’s horse Blue and Lady were real buddies; would that be a good thing?  

 

Judy and I drove up to Robie Park on Friday, and after stashing the truck in the woods, I wandered around the park looking for my horse.   After locating Hugh and Gloria’s camp, we went to vet in, which went quickly and easily.   Gloria and I saddled up and went for a nice warm up ride where I got to know this huge horse.  She was very nice, and is, without a doubt, the smoothest horse I have ever ridden.  I felt like I was posting on giant marshmallows rather than stirrups.  How can this be?  Hugh said she was like a Cadillac, and he was not kidding!  And she could move right out for being so big.  This was going to be fun!   All horses are so different; I just love meeting and riding new horses.   It turns out her only “issue” was that she does not like strange things going on behind her, so I’d have to watch out for that.  For example- we came up to two bicycles on the trail.  We slowed to a walk, they stopped and moved over.  Happens all the time.  Lady looked at the bikes very suspiciously as we passed, but then when they were behind her, she went “uh-oh!” and tried to scoot her butt around from them so she could see them.   Since I don’t have a rear view mirror on my helmet, I’d just stash that info for later. 

 

We had a couple of hours to kill before the ride meeting, so after doing some shopping, we went to visit, and bum snacks from Gary and Laura Fend’s camp.  Their daughter Jamie was riding their horse Smoky;  Karen Bottiani was back for her fifth ride on her stunning horse “Movin’ on Blues.”  Brenda Benkley on Taabi, and Cory Soltau on Brenda’s “energetic” Pretty Boy Floyd.  Energetic?  More like “Wild Man Floyd.”  Cory had his work cut out for him!   The ride meeting was pretty standard, but boy, there sure were a lot of people there!   We did learn one important item regarding the start of the ride; the ride management wants to improve the start, which in my experience, has always been the biggest pain in the ride.  They had the front runners report to the start area at 4:40 am, the middle group at 4:50, and the slower group at 5:00 for a 5:15 start.   We went off to bed in perfect, cool weather.  I hoped the cooling trend would last one more day!

 

We woke up at the absolutely horrible hour of 3:15 am and prepared the horses in the dark.  There was another new rule I was not familiar with; there were to be absolutely no crew vehicles leaving the camp until after the start, under penalty of rider disqualification.  I wondered why the rider info sheet was asking for truck type, license plate, etc.  Many kudos to the ride official that came up with this idea.  What a wonderful difference to not have any cars on the roads- no headlights, no dust, no horses having to move off the road in the dark.  And it was so quiet!   Superb!  Score 1 point for the ride management.  Gloria and I decided our strategy was to head up front to the first group of riders to avoid some of the incredible congestion we had been through in the past.  We worked our way up with all the other riders; it is impossible to tell where you are, or how many riders are in front, behind, or on top of you.  All you see is horses and riders in different states of nervousness.  Once we got situated on the road we actually had plenty of space, not at all like the previous time where we were packed in like sardines.   The moon was shining like a florescent light, casting beautiful shadows from the trees.  I stared at that moon, telling it I wanted to see it again from the trail in about 16 hours.  I looked up the road and could see the first riders; there were probably 60 or so horses in front of us.  Minutes are measured with calendars while we stand around, waiting for the start, but at long last we were off!  Blue was in a hurry and was jigging big time, but it only took about a minute before we started trotting!  That was amazing in itself.  We took off trotting at a brisk pace, but it was very different being this far up front.  Sure, there were horses around, but it was not any different than any other ride start.  I was stunned, since I have been in absolute carnage at the start here before.  I just followed Gloria at a fast trot, and in only a few minutes, we were trotting on the road, with no horses in front of us, and none directly behind.  It wasn’t even that dusty!  And then after the couple of miles here comes the single track trail- we just trotted right on to it, like any other trail.  What’s so special about that?  I have spent minutes all bunched up here in a line of congested horses, just trying to get on the trail, just like on the freeway during commute time when you loose two lanes.   There were horses in front of us and behind as we trotted on the trail, but there was absolutely no shoving, pushing, or even any angry riders.  It was great!  In 2002 I saw several rider crashes, loose horses, collisions, all kinds of grief on this road before we even saw the single track.  I probably should not admit to the secret of this start, but I absolutely found it.  We were moving right along at a nice ground covering pace when we got to the first wooden bridge.  I don’t think Lady had been across one before, since she put on the brakes, but then followed Blue right across.  The trail winds down hill on a very dusty and loose single track trail that dumps us out at an under crossing where we dart under highway 89, just south of the Squaw Valley turnoff.  We headed right into the forest on all trails that do some pretty good climbing.  There was a long string of horses moving along at a good clip, but I was glad no one was tearing up this climb.  The altitude is high, the air is thin, and it’s rocky in spots.   Trot, walk, trot, walk through the dust, but the trail is going up the mountain at an alarming rate.

 

After passing the infamous bee stinging spot of 2002, (where I got nailed) the trail finally heads down to the huge, wide ski run that goes from the top of Squaw to the bottom.  It’s a perfect place for those who want to go faster to pass.  After a mile or so on the wide, flat ski run, the trail jumps back off the road and onto another single track that climbs higher, but like so many trails on this ride, has a long, very steep drop off to the side.   It’s a trotting trail with stops for rocks and tree roots in places.  Gloria and Blue were trotting along ahead of me when it happened.  Here’s the environment: narrow single track trail, maybe two and a half feet wide, if that much.  On the left, a straight bank where the trail had been cut out of the mountain.  On the right, a steep drop that you would not ever want to fall off of.  Never. Ever.  Don’t go there!  These are those drops that are so steep you could not walk down them, you’d just start falling.  Gloria trotted down a slight down grade, and started to cross a sheet of rock on the trail.  It wasn’t anything you would do an emergency stop for, and you would just trot across it, like the thousands of other rocks on this ride.   Her horse stepped on the rock and went down on its left side, hard, instantly, with its feet pointing towards the cliff.   Whammo!  Gloria came off the horse; the mare instantly jumped to her feet, and of course she started to trot down the trail.  This all happens in about a second, but the next thing I know, my horse, Lady, decides she is going with her buddy.  Here’s Gloria, down, laying on the trail right in front of me, completely blocking it, and she’s not moving.  And my horse is going to run her right over.  OH SH**!   I did the biggest panic stop on a horse I have ever done- I hauled back so hard on the reins, and dug my butt into her back, that she started to do a sliding stop with her rear legs, just like Chex-polka-dot in the reigning nationals.  But the horse was still going!  I pushed her over to the right, realizing that if I was going to run over Gloria, I would be better off if I hit her legs, rather than her body.   I still can’t believe I made that decision so fast, but I did.  So now Lady is going over Gloria’s legs, but my horse’s right front and right rear legs are off the side of the trail, spewing rocks over the side, down the grade, and I’m leaning right, way too much to the right.  I glanced down to the right and did not see the trail underneath me, I kid you not.  I just knew Lady and I were going down there.   But somehow, Lady swung her rear legs down the edge of the grade, and with her front legs, pulled herself back up on the trail!  Her rear legs were scrambling for traction, but she somehow ended up back on the trail, and started to go again to catch her friend.  I hauled her to a stop and leaped off, landing behind her. 

 

While all that was going on, I got to witness a real feat of horsemanship, performed by Jim Ferris.  He’s a long time NATRC judge and competitor; maybe that’s why he handled it like he did.  I met Jim and rode with him during our first pre ride; he won the Tevis entry this year at the fun ride, so he was riding.  Gloria was conscious; she called out for someone to catch her horse.  She was struggling to get up, and thank you, whoever was behind us, for holding the traffic behind us and maintaining order back there.  Jim was the rider next on the trail in front of Gloria; he stopped instantly and blocked Blue from continuing.  Jim’s horse stood perfectly still while Jim turned around in the saddle and grabbed Blue’s reins, while Blue’s nose was way up over Jim’s horse’s back.   Okay, I thought, that’s good, we got the horse stopped.  I turned to go help Gloria, but then, Blue decides she’s going on regardless, and goes around Jim and his horse.  Remember, we are on a very tiny, single track trail!  Blue is going down the slope, trying to get around!  I watch in horror as she starts to go down the slope, but Jim is holding her reins, trying to keep her head close.  All four of the horse’s legs are going a hundred miles an hour to keep from going down the cliff.  Jim is moving his arm from the rear of his horse, around to the right as the horse struggles, not letting her head drop.  These reins are tight as a board.  Jim’s horse just stood there like the plastic horse in front of the tack shop.  I still can’t believe Blue did not just head straight down the cliff, and certainly would have, if Jim had let go.  Or if he held on, she could have pulled him, and maybe his horse down as well.  Somehow, somehow, Blue dragged herself back up on the trail, and yes indeed, she accomplished her goal of passing Jim.  Now picture this!  Here are the two horses on the trail, but they are nose to nose, with Blue facing backwards on the trail, with Jim’s horse still standing there.  But Blue decides to go on down the trail, BACKWARDS!  Yes, she starts to back down the trail!  This is where I was so impressed with Jim.  He was talking to her, calmly, slowly, as his horse took a few small steps to match her backwards progress.  Jim gets Blue to stop; they are standing there on the edge of the cliff.  He still has the reins and is keeping her from going on, which she really wants to do.  Of course my horse wants to follow, but I don’t care as I let her go to help Gloria, but to my amazement, Gloria is struggling to her feet and is walking towards me.  She squeezes by Lady and me, then past Jim and his horse, and finally to Blue.  Jim gives her the reins, and Gloria gets the horse to turn around on this little trail.  She then gets back on Blue and starts walking down the trail.  The bank on the left was so steep I could not even get on my horse, and my friend behind us told me to walk a bit until it was safer to get on, which I did.  We then calmly ride down the trail.  

 

I still can’t believe I didn’t trample Gloria, and I didn’t go over the cliff, and Gloria’s horse didn’t go over, or pull Jim and his horse down, and that Gloria was not seriously hurt.  That was the closest call I have ever experienced.  The Tevis gods were on our side that hour.  And Jim, if it were up to me,  I’d give you the Tevis award for rider excellence, or something.  Maybe there should be a Western States Sportsmanship Award for heroic feats such as this one.  And Jim’s horse, man, he’s a keeper.   Jim-Gloria and I owe you a very large beer, and I’ll be happy to pay up any time.  Thank you, sir.  

 

We made it down off the trail to the wide ski area where we looked at Blue.  She was bleeding pretty badly from both left legs, but was sound at the trot.  She was still in hyper mode, and I’m sure the adrenalin was helping keep her going.  We stopped at the Squaw High camp for water, where we cleaned off the horse and did a hand trot.  She still seemed sound, but Gloria wanted to let the horse cool down to make sure she was okay.  She sent me on ahead, and just after I left, Cory Soltau showed up and gave her horse an exam.  He saw that the bleeding had stopped, and told Gloria she could probably go on to the trot by at Lyon, and then the check at Robinson.   After a while Gloria went on, but was indeed pulled at Robinson when Blue was slightly lame, probably due to the impact those poor legs took.   No matter, everyone was safe, and that’s really all that counts.

 

With Gloria waiting behind at the water stop, Lady and I started up the rest of the mountain at a nice jog.  Whew!  Time to get back to enjoying the ride.  The top of the ski resort is so beautiful in the summer.  We climbed up past the Shirley Lake chair, then it’s up the short climb up and over the emigrant peak.  There was a cheering section at the top!  And the views- Lake Tahoe to the east, absolute mountain splendor in every other direction.   Lady wasn’t sure what to make of the American flag whipping back and forth, but we rode on past Watson Monument and started down the back side of the mountain, heading for the Granite Chief Wilderness.  This is the hairiest part of the ride without a doubt.  The first mile or so is nice, but then come the rocks, the slippery rocks. I rode through this section in a group of riders, with a first time rider in front and in back of me.  They both had great attitudes!  The rider in front could not believe what we were riding through, but her horse did great job pulling her through.  Lady did a nice job as well, never taking any bad steps or slips.  But ride through here once and you can see why this section causes a few accidents every year.  (As I write this, they are still searching for the lost horse that got separated from it’s rider in here)

 

With the wilderness behind us, now we have it easy for a while.  We picked up the rocky and dusty jeep road that heads down off the mountain towards the trot by at Lyon Ridge.  But a couple miles before we got there, I was involved in another accident!   There were three women trotting in front of me, when suddenly there is a lot of dust, and the women start shouting, “She’s down! She’s down!”   We stop quickly, and I see a big horse down on the trail in front of me, with its rider trapped underneath.  The problem was the horse had fallen on a downhill section, and had its head on the downhill side, with its legs pointing up the hill.  The horse wasn’t moving at all, and the woman was completely under it and could not budge.  And to top it off, the horse was a huge Hanoverian, and I mean big!  This horse made Lady look small!  I jumped off Lady, gave her reins to someone on a horse, and ran over to the woman.  She was okay, but just stuck beyond belief.  I tried in vain to even budge the horses head; the poor animal was just grunting and was in great distress.  We started shouting for some men with strong backs!  The ride stopped again behind us as we got into position, and wouldn’t you know it, here’s Cory again.  He jumps down and does a quick look at the horse’s gums, listens to it for a second, and says: “We have to get this horse up, now.”  “Right,” I said, “but let’s get her out first.”  We stripped the tack, but I had to get down and dig out the dirt from under the horse to allow the stirrup to pull free.  The men got in position- me at the front, and four others at the rear.  Cory showed them where to lift, and with all that manpower, it took a few tries to raise the horse’s rear end enough.  With the final grunt, they lifted, and I dragged her out from under the horse by her arms.  Now that she was free and checked out okay, we went to work on the horse.  It took a lot of effort by all involved, but with six or seven attempts, we spun the still down horse around 180 degrees on the trail so that it’s head was uphill.  The horse was so much better, it was finally breathing normally. Cory was excellent- he told the woman to leave the horse exactly as it was, even if it lay there for 2 hours.  It would get up when it was ready.  We then had all the backed up riders start to go around the horse off the trail one at a time and continue.  Before I left, I dug out all the rocks I could from under the big horse to make it more comfortable.  I’m happy to report that after 20 minutes or so, the horse stood up and was walked out. 

 

Back on Lady, I trotted on down the roads to the trot by check and a water stop.  What else could happen?  How about a runaway horse, blasting into the water trough area!   In this ride, you can’t waste any time, and I had already used up my allotment of dawdling credits on the two accidents, so I headed out towards Cougar rock.  I didn’t go over, since this is not my horse, and who needs to take any chances.  But after Cougar rock, for some reason I rode along alone for a while.  Maybe it had to do with the jam up, but it was very nice.  I started passing those 100 mile runners who were joining us on the ride.  Those guys are nuts!  They are animals, but they are nuts.  (I wish I could be so nutty!)   I had an uneventful ride (thank goodness) into the vet check at Red Star Ridge, where Lady pulsed down in a couple of minutes, and after a trot out for the vet, we continued on towards Robinson flat.  The 8 mile road went by quickly; I met a couple of people and chatted with them as we rode along.  We arrived at Robinson Flat about 20 minutes later than I had planned, just about the time I spent with the two accidents.  It’s hard to describe Robinson; you have to imagine 250 crews, horses, and riders in a spot with not really enough room.  So many people, and many are too frantic! There was a little grumbling at the vet line, but I got through the pulse and vet box in about 15 minutes, which is not too bad.  Hugh and Judy were there to crew for me, and they just did a superb job.  All crew help is wonderful, but the professional crew help is the best!  Lady ate very well during our break, as did I.  So far, so good!

 

I headed out of Robinson Flat right on time, a few minutes before noon.  The new trail (as of last year) heads straight down the Mosquito Ridge road, bypassing the rocky Cavanaugh Ridge route completely.  Much better!  Score another point for ride management!  On this ride it is pretty relaxing to just trot along for four miles on a nice road.  You don’t get to do that very often!  We hung a right on a jeep road that deposits us out into Dusty Corners.   Cory caught up to me here, we talked a bit, and I realized the poor guy was doing more vet work on the ride than the vets!   After a water and electrolyte stop we took off down Pucker Point Trail.  I joined up with a woman who was going my perfect pace, and we just trotted the whole thing.  Well, we did walk around that one corner at Pucker Point, not so much because you have to, but I like to look down the 1000 foot drop right off the side of the trail.  Oh yeah, don’t go that way.  Makes our cliff at Squaw Valley look downright inviting.  No, actually, it doesn’t!  It’s a neat trail through the trees that dumps us out right at the next vet check at Last Chance.  It took Lady a couple of minutes to get to criteria, and her trot out wasn’t the most energetic I have ever seen, but she was okay.   We left and made our way to the first canyon, where I hopped off and just led all the way down at a walk.  Everyone else was doing the same, either on foot or riding, but taking it really easy. (And safe!)   At least there were no bees this time.  Someone had hung some yellow jacket traps up on the trees, and they were not empty!  There were lots of riders in the string, but I went down to the river under the swinging bridge to let Lady drink and cool off.  One other rider joined me in the cool river, the remainder of the fifteen horses went on ahead across the bridge.  That water felt good, and it was here I realized that it really wasn’t that hot.  It wasn’t anything near cool, but at least it wasn’t 110, like it can be.  We started up the long, slow, switchback climb out of the canyon to Devil’s Thumb.  It takes a while to trudge up that thing, and Lady was walking okay, but did seem to be slowing a bit near the top.  We found the Boy Scout troop at the top who took good care of us, but after a long drink I grabbed a flake of hay and let Lady eat as I led her on foot the mile or so to the vet check at Deadwood.  She drank again, and came down to the 64 criteria; it took her about 7 minutes, but she did drop to 56 before I left.  But her trot out was not good.  Well, it was fine, soundness and attitude wise, but I had to do it twice to get her to trot out quickly.  I was beginning to get suspicious; she was slowing down, but still had plenty of energy under saddle.  It makes it a little harder when you don’t know the horse that well, so you have to err on the side of caution. 

 

Now its time for the long canyon.  I hopped off at the very top and jogged down the trail with her trotting along behind me.   She was great at this, much better than my horses.  It was neat- I never saw anyone, until I caught up to one nice guy at Kuput Springs, whose name I can’t remember, but it was him who had to do a horse helicopter rescue out of here before. Yuck!  He and I talked as we jogged and walked all the way to the bottom.  Hop back on and it’s up the next huge climb.  We caught up to a guy who was going really slow, but that was okay, Lady wasn’t in any hurry.   About two thirds up the climb, the slow guy pulled over, and other horses passed, but Lady really didn’t want to go much faster.  We walked very slowly to the vet check at Michigan Bluff at 5:55 pm, (my target time was 6:00 pm) where I took her pulse, which was 80.  Lucy Trumbul-Chapman was there and helped me cool Lady, but to no avail.  Her pulse was hanging, and after 20 minutes it was still 72.  She was eating, drinking, peeing, and pooping, but she was just not in condition to continue.   I was out.  I had the vet examine her; all seemed okay except for the elevated pulse.  We got a trailer ride back to Foresthill, where I met my crew.  I had to lead the horse backwards down the paved road to find Judy, who was waiting for me; everyone kept telling me I was going the wrong way.  Yeah, Yeah, I know.  But then I had to lead her back up the road when I found Judy, and now everyone thought I was coming in to the check.  No, No, I’m out.   Lady was at 60 now, after two hours, better, but obviously not correct.  We let her eat at the trailer for another hour before packing up and heading to the fairgrounds in Auburn.  That’s a sad feeling to leave Forest hill, or any stop on the ride, with your horse in the trailer.  But that’s okay, she was fine, and there will be more rides.   It was kind of shocking to see the down horse off the side of the road just out side of the camp, but not knowing what happened, or who it was, is the worst.   Driving down that dark highway towards the fairgrounds was quiet; the moon was brilliant, and it seemed to be reminding me that no, I would not see it that night from the trail.

 

We got to the fairgrounds and put Lady up in her stall for the night, then headed to the stands to watch the winners come in.  Jeremy and Becky came in just after 11pm for a tie, and those horses looked so good!  Magnificent!  What animals.  (And riders!)  There was a lot of attrition from the front runners during the day, but you have to finish to win, and Jeremy and Becky rode smart rides and came out on top.  The next morning we checked Lady- she was completely back to normal, pulse 36, and looked excellent.  Nice springy trot out and completely sound.  That’s good.  She was just not in shape for the effort this ride requires, but will be back.  She’s a lot of fun to ride, and I know Hugh will be successful with her in the future.   We watched the Hagen Cup judging, and I wasn’t surprised to see Jeremy’s  (Actually Hillary’s horse) come out the winner.  Even with all those horses, and the great weather, the completion rate was 52%, a little better than normal, but still, right at half.  Oh, by the way, the ride Management looses a point for keeping the identity of the horses and riders at the BC judging confidential.  What’s the point of that?  It’s not like crowd reaction is a parameter in the scoring, or maybe it should be.  “And now, here’s horse number 251!”  Great!  Anyone got a program?   No, there weren’t any.   Anyone got binoculars to see that rider board down there in the infield?

 

I have a couple of special congratulations to mention.  Our old friend Carolyn Stark, from Texas, finished the ride on her third attempt.  She is a special case, since she’s a cancer survivor, and used finishing the Tevis ride as a life goal she set to help her while she was recovering.  She did it, and I could not be more proud of her.  Our other friend, Jennifer Dzakowic, finished on her first attempt riding Sqoundrel, the horse that sent me to my only visit to a hospital many years ago.  Good ride, Jennifer!    Jim Ferris finished his first Tevis out of two tries, and Cory made it on the crazy horse, who saw the light at mile 70 and became a good boy.  Bob Edwards, at 78 years young, I think, finished.  Bob Spoor, Barry Waite, Jamie Fend, Brenda Benkley, Jazon Wonders, co-directors Jan Jeffers and Robert Ribley, Connie Creech- I have so many friends who finished I can’t even mention them all.     

 

Except for one more.  This woman and her horse are what I aspire to do at this ride.  My friend Karen Bottiani and her little horse, Movin’on Blues, finished their fifth Tevis in a row.  They have completed every year since 1999.  She’s never been in contention for the top ten, or the cup, or has any intention to race.  She and her horse go out and finish the ride, every year, with the horse looking perfect the next morning.  To see Karen leading Blues’ around on Sunday morning, with the horse looking fabulous, is enough to bring tears to your eyes.  That, my friends, is what the Tevis is all about.  Just ask Julie Suhr.

 

I’ll be back………

 

Nick Warhol

Hayward, Ca.