Wild West 50/50/50   Sept 2/4^th, 2000

 

The Finish line pass of a lifetime, or

Warpaint makes ANOTHER comeback

 

     The Wild West Ride for 2000 could have been named the “Wild, Wet, Ride,” or, more appropriately, the “Wild, Wonderful, ride.”  Ride Managers Melissa and Robert Ribley put on a hum-dinger of an event, with a fifty each day times three, a two day 100, and a 30.  Their base camp location was up at 5000 feet in the Sierra Nevada Mountains, about 20 miles or so east of Nevada City, just off highway 20.  Ride Camp was located in a really nice horse campground that was nestled deeply in the huge, towering trees.  Birds singing, deer grazing, the sun glistening down on the dew covered flowers, the sounds of music gently flowing….. oops, no, that was Bambi.  This was an endurance ride. 

     Mother nature can be a funny thing sometimes, but we were two of the fortunate few that got lucky.   Since I still don’t have a horse to ride, (Boy- it seems like that’s all I ever say anymore!)  my generous and understanding wife, Judy Long, has been letting me ride her spotted wonder Appaloosa, Warpaint.   Our deal for this ride was that she only wanted to do two of the days, and if she made it through day one okay, (and I’d crew for her,) I could ride the beast on the second (third) day.   We drove up from the bay area on Saturday, avoiding the multi-hour traffic delays that some people had to suffer through, as well as the rain.  Yep- it rained most of Friday night, and well into the start of the first day.   We weren’t there, but we sure heard about how nasty it was out there in the morning.  It was cold- not horribly, but enough that the cold and rain made it yucky on the riders.  I don’t know a whole lot about the first day, except that San Jose buddy Ken Cook took second place on his big horse Rocky.  We pulled into camp during the riders meeting and found the conditions to be stunning.  For those who don’t ride in the Sierra in the summer, the dust in the mountains can be really depressing.  As beautiful as the scenery, trails, forests, and terrain are, the dust can make riding almost unbearable.   But- not this time!  The rain had done its job by knocking the dust out, making the trail footing absolutely wonderful.  I mean perfect!  These were dark, loamy, soft, just perfect single-track trails that wound through the forest.  I’m a real sucker for riding on single track anyway, and this ride was about 80% of some of the nicest trails I have ever seen.  The cool weather was perfect for Warpaint as well.

     We woke up Sunday morning to a slightly overcast day- a little cold, but no rain.  We got the War Pony ready to go and sent Judy off down the trail, about 10 minutes or so after most riders, just as she likes it.  Early in the ride the spotted wonder can be a handful, but by himself he was being very nice for Judy.   It seems funny to be saying that, after all she has gone through with this horse, but it is sure a nice thing to see them smiling at the start.  They boogied off into the trees, while I packed up and drove out to the vet stop a few miles away.   After a nice nap, I set up and waited for her to arrive.  She came in somewhere in the first half of the pack or so- very standard for Warpaint.  He goes out, sees a horse, catches it, dispatches it, and goes looking for another one, over and over, all day long.  Judy was a little worried (as per usual practice) as she waited for Warpaint to recover and get through the vet, but was all smiles right away.   In may, at the Castle Rock 50, our friend, and top notch endurance vet, Nancy Elliot, noticed that Warpaint’s heart sounded a little different that usual.  He seemed to be adding a little extra half-beat sort of thing in between the normal beats.  He had recovered fine, but this was something different.  We pulled him at Castle Rock, and did the now routine “take-him-to-Davis” task again, for a complete work-up on his heart and cardio system.  They found a healthy heart, but called his little, weird, beat an “arrhythmia.”  They wanted to rest him for a few weeks and check it again.  He did, they did, and they said “not to worry, put him back to work, and lets watch it.”  He did, we did, and it turned out to be a non-event so far. 

     Back to our ride- at the first check, Warpaint recovered to the nice, low criteria of 60 BPM in only a couple of minutes.  Remember- he’s an App.  He is a fit, monster, machine, but he has always taken just a little longer to recover than an Arab, especially when it is hot.  But not today- he dropped right away.  Judy was excited, but not as much as when he passed the check with all A’s.  The lunch hour went quickly- Judy shot out for a little 8-mile loop that came back to the same stop.  Us crew types sat around and spoke of manly things like trucks, the price of gas and diesel, concrete trusses, and how well the Giants are doing.  Judy came back in after trotting the loop quickly.  Another quick recovery, another good check, more smiles, and after a short ten minute hold, back on out for the 15 mile dash to the finish.  Warpaint was being Warpaint- he took off at a strong trot, eager to catch that horse, then the next one, and the next one, and all the way to fifteenth place at the finish.  Way to go, Warpaint.  Judy was as happy as I’ve seen her about that nutty horse in a long while.  He had made it back from yet another disastrous summer (he seems to like to take the summers off lately) But the best news of the day was that I got to ride the next day!

     Monday morning arrived with even better weather- sunny, cold, and not a breeze in the air.  We got him saddled and ready to go- I pulled out of camp a few minutes after the start, taking up with Janet and Ray from the Australian Connection.  We rode along for a few miles on the beautiful single-track trails; them in front, Warpaint cruising along behind them, wondering when I was going to let him pass.  No fussing, no running in place, none of that nutty stuff he has pulled in the past.  Just “let’s pass them, please.”  We did after a few miles, setting out on more of those neat trails.   I think the first ten miles of the ride were single track, then a hop onto a fire road, then, yippee!  Back onto the trails.   We passed a pair of horses here and there, a lone rider, four here, another one- I didn’t keep track.  I was really enjoying how this horse feels under saddle.   I must admit- like Judy, I kind of like getting the comments about him from the other riders.  “Neat horse, he sure looks good, boy, he’s fast.”  And Poor Steve Shaw suffered the wrath of Judy when, with a big grin, he asked her about her Half Appy.   After beating him with a stick about his head and shoulders, she explained to him that Warpaint’s just an Appy, or as we like to say, as much of an Appy as Appys get.  (Steve was just trying to get her riled up) 

     About halfway through the first loop, we got to the point where we ran into the leaders, who were coming back from the other direction, on the same road we were on.   We shared common trail for a few miles down to the turnaround at a nice creek.   When I saw Gloria Vanderford leading the way back up the hill I was going down, I decided to count to see how I was doing overall.   After Gloria came a pack of four horses, then the always-friendly Dave Cootware, then a pair of women, then another pair of women, then what’s this?  The bottom!  I was at the river in eleventh place!   I was a little surprised, but after a nice drink and some electrolytes, we began the climb back up the long, not too steep hill.  This is one area where Warpaint shines- he really jams up hills at a really fast walk.  When I saw the way the horses in ninth and tenth place were walking up the hill, I knew we’d catch them in short order.  We did, and rode with them for the next few miles on yet even more wonderful single-track trails.   We jammed along, Warpaint in front, just sailing through the trees.  No spooking, no tripping, no slowing, no hesitation.  I steer him through the tight trees with little pressures- I never hit a knee on a tree, unlike my poor riding partners.  We got to the ¼ mile to the check sign and walked on in to a surprised Judy, who was taking P&Rs.  I think her quote was “What are you doing in the top ten?”   I think Hugh Vanderford saved the day for me when he told Judy- “Hey, it’s just that great horse of yours!”  Thanks, Hugh.

   Judy’s worries were laid to rest after another quick recovery, (about a minute or so after the Arabs I was with,) and another great vet check.  I babbled incoherently to Judy during lunch, saying things I might regret later.  I think I told her she could have my new horse Wabi, my retired horse Shatta, my old horse Rowan, all the cars, the truck, camper, the tractor, the Kawasaki mule, my new dirt bike, my old dirt bike, all my tools, and even my two bicycles, if I could have this horse.   Anything for this horse.   I saddled him up and headed out, right on time.  Ken told me I was leaving in ninth place.  Gloria was in front by 30 minutes or so, Dave Cootware had zoomed up and was in second.   I rode off, up the slight grade, on more and more trails.  Warpaint was on cruise mode- no hurry, no fuss, just a nice, constant trotting pace that kept his heart rate nice and low.   I was thinking how cool it would be to finish in the top ten if possible, wondering when people would catch me from behind.  Much to my surprise, I caught up to a pair of horses that were walking up a slight grade.  I walked past them, into seventh place.   They followed for a while, but fell back.   I just kept on trotting on the never-ending single-track trails.   “Wow,” I thought,  “Seventh.”

     On we went at our nice, slow, constant pace.  Around another corner and what’s this, two more horses!  I went by them, they asked if they could ride along with me.  Sure, no problem.  For about two miles, then they dropped back.  “Fifth!”  What’s going on?   I was having a hoot, and the horse felt wonderful.  This is supposed to be how it works.  A perfect day, a perfect horse, just a blast.  I started singing again, being careful to shut up when I came up on anyone.  (that old habit I picked up while racing dirt bikes- no one can hear you.)  I was belting out some Beatles stuff when I did it again- two more horses up ahead!   They moved over and let the Appy go by- they followed for a while, then fell back.  I was I third pace!  I broke out of the forest, crossed the highway, and rode up to a water stop, where they told me I was in second.  Oh come on.  It turns out that poor Dave C had gotten himself lost, I mean really lost.  He was last seen, heading for points Northeast, on his way to Squaw Valley. They told me I was second.  I rode off, feeling pretty excited about the whole thing.   I had an eight-mile loop to do on some nice roads, then back here, and then about 8 miles back to camp.  After a while, here comes Gloria, in first, returning from her loop.  We trotted along, no horses in sight, anywhere.  I looked down at the only pair of hoof marks on the ground.  Not very familiar territory for me, that’s for sure.   We wound along a ridge, up and down, then down this outrageous, short, nasty little trail(?)  (What was that, Robert?)  Back on the roads, then back on the trails,  trot, trot, trot, all the while, wondering who was behind me.  We hit the water stop again- after a long drink and more electrolytes, we headed down the hill for the last leg.  It was a nice, soft, jeep road down the mountain.  We trotted quickly down the road, 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 as we trotted through the lot- they looked at me a little strangely.   Where is the course?  Oh, there it is.   On we went, closer and closer, no horses from behind.  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 bopping along at a super trot.   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 accelerated up the road.  Very nice.  A minute or so later, here comes another one.  Same thing- I waved him by, he rode past and off he went.   The finish has to be close now.   More trotting, same wonderful pace, same low heart rate.   Here comes another bike, only going a bit faster.  I move over on the road and wave him by.  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, saying  “HAY!  I GOT YOU!  I caught you!  Yee  HAWW!!!”   I couldn’t believe it!  He had used the motorcycle as a stealth device, so I, or Warpaint, would not hear them coming up behind us.  He had just caught us and was hanging back, waiting for the right chance to make his move.  The bike came by- that was the chance he was looking for.  As he and his horse raced by, Warpaint looked over and came to life, but it was too late.  Dave was already gone.  He had me by a couple hundred feet, and three turns later, there it is- the sign that says “finish line, ¼ mile.”   Warpaint wanted to go after Dave- it was pretty obvious the gauntlet had been thrown, and the Appy wanted that little Arab.  I thought about it for about one second- no way was I going to go running down this gravel road, after all this, to try and get Dave.  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 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- I think that had to be one of the classic “passes at the finish” of all time. 

     But did I care?  Are you kidding?  I just finished what had to be one of the best 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 came back from another problem.    Like I told one of the women I passed, when she asked why more Appy’s didn’t do Endurance: this one, is 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

Hayward, Ca