Biltmore 2016

Regular readers know that the Biltmore Challenge is one of my favorite endurance rides. When Angela asked me if I would be interested in it this year, my answer was a resounding, "Yes!" I got back from No Frills and sent my entry for Biltmore the next day, just before the deadline. (I try not to wait until the last possible second to enter rides, but I refuse to enter one until I've finished the one before it. When I'm riding every other week, that doesn't leave much wiggle room. Sorry, ride managers!) I was very, very, very excited to ride Biltmore with Moniet. Awesome trails plus awesome horse promised to make for a glorious weekend. Plus, I was really, really hoping that I might finally get to ride without rain, sleet, or snow. 

Unfortunately, we would be riding on Friday, because Angela was already entered in the Saturday FEI* with Tess. I say unfortunately because leaving on Thursday meant that Mike couldn't come with me to crew. We were both nervous about me leaving for three or four days, especially given Julio's recent medical history. I thought about hitching a ride down with Skip, but I didn't want to hold up his schedule since he had to get the horses set up and vetted in and it's three hours from my house to his (and I need to take care of the animals here before I go anywhere). I thought about flying, but I haven't been on a plane since I was a toddler. I am not opposed to the flying itself (I think) but going through an airport for the first time is not something I want to do.

So, on Thursday, I got up bright and early, packed the few things that weren't already in my car, told the dogs to be good, and actually got on the road on time.

I packed a few things I haven't packed before. One was Ozzy's old competition bridle. I have finally converted Moniet to Ozzy's colors. I'm actually going to see if I can get side pull rings put on the halter part so I can take the hackamore off after the first loop at rides.Then again, Skip got him a lime green rope halter so maybe I'll just ride in that.

The other new addition was my new pair of caged stirrups.

I saw Sandy riding in a pair of Podium stirrups at Bunny Hop and they instantly got my attention. When I expressed interest, Sandy told me that she bought them used and hadn't been able to find anyone in the US who carries them. A few weeks later, she sent me a link to the Amidale stirrups on Ebay. They were affordable and, most importantly, lime green. I have been in need of caged stirrups for a while, and after riding in muck boots at Foxcatcher, they went at the top of my priority list. I ordered them right away. Shipping took a little while because they're from the UK and I didn't get them in time for No Frills. I did not get a chance to ride in them before Biltmore so I packed my original trail stirrups just in case, but I didn't foresee any problems. (Without getting into too much detail, the stirrups worked well for me that weekend. They were comfortable, and the rivets for the cages don't penetrate the stirrup itself so no rubbing!)

The drive down to North Carolina was miserable. I left right before the morning rush, which meant I sat in traffic most of the way to the Pennsylvania turnpike. Then, I sat in traffic until the I-476 exchange. Then I sat in traffic by Harrisburg. Three hours into my drive, I decided not to stop for lunch so I could make better time. The second I got onto 81, I regretted my decision. Traffic was stopped again. 

It's cool. I don't have anywhere to be.

I was on 81 for 441 miles (but who's counting?) through Pennsylvania, Maryland, West Virginia, Virginia-until-I-die, and Tennessee. It rained the entire time. The truck traffic was heavy and slow. 

Raining.

Raining some more.

It was a tedious and boring drive, but it's ok. I talked to Myself, and Myself talked back. She made for pretty good company. By the time I got to mile marker 129 in Virginia (about 8 hours into my drive) and saw that the highway was closed for an accident, I was ready to just turn around and go home. It might have been faster. Just as I was about to take a detour behind the horse trailer I'd been leap frogging with all day, my tablet recalculated and informed me that just sitting it out would be faster, since the traffic from everyone taking the detour had gotten so heavy. I stayed on the highway and they re-opened the lanes a few minutes later. The tablet was right, and the horse trailer that had taken the detour arrived in camp about an hour after I did.

I think my favorite part of the drive was the Prius in front of me whose vanity plate said BODYOFX. Skip later told me that the guy probably meant that he has a 10 body (but you drive a Prius, so...) but I took it as "body of ex" and wondered how often he gets pulled over.

"Sir, I pulled you over because your license plate says 'body of ex'." 

"No, no! It's body of TEN! I work out!"

"Uh huh, sure sure. Sir, open your trunk."

I'm telling you, Myself is hilarious.

Once I was over the North Carolina border, I made short work of the rest of the drive. I stopped for gas one more time so I would have a full tank in ride camp. Then, I wisely followed my tablet to the estate. This was the first time I've made it to and from Biltmore without getting lost. It helps that I didn't have a horse trailer in tow and was able to take the shortest, most direct route through the city.

I breathed a sigh of relief as I pulled through the estate gates. No matter how many times I go to Biltmore, the grounds take my breath away. It's a good thing I don't live close by because I would buy an equine pass every season and nobody would ever see me again.

It took a while to wind my way back to the equestrian center, located at the very back of the estate, but I enjoyed every minute of the drive. After twelve hours on the road, it was very, very good to reach my destination.

Angela had been texting me. Her flight was about to take off, and she was telling me where Skip was parked, and asking me if I could try to make the ride meeting. I pulled into the equestrian center just as everyone gathered under the tent for the briefing. I also happened to pass a familiar flat bed truck as I came through the gates. Skip was on his way out to the airport to pick Angela up, and I waved him down. He gave me instructions and I promised to pay attention at the ride meeting.

I threw my car in the grass and hurried under the tent. Stagg had started with the LD briefing so I hadn't missed anything yet. It wasn't long before Kelsie spotted me. The girl is becoming my own personal tour guide to rides. She's always one of the first people I see, and she always knows who is parked where. She didn't let me down, and promised to show me to Skip's rig after the meeting. I spent some time catching up with Jen and making sure I was signed in. I also ended up with Angela's FEI packet for Saturday, which I tucked in my car for safe keeping. It turns out I probably should have handed it to someone in Bob's group because Tess's ride card was in there and I ended up running all over the place the following day to make sure the horse could vet!

That's when I spotted Beth! My West Virginia crew was at this ride and I couldn't wait to see them. I haven't seen them since October and that is way, way, way too long!

The ride meeting was long and very detailed. Stagg went over pretty much every turn in the trails and talked about various ways in which the trail had been changed. For example, they had re-routed to avoid the carriage horses and the hack string. There would be no walk-only zone this year. Additionally, they didn't even cross the LD's over the river.

In the end, I wound up just going over to where the trail maps were pinned on a trailer behind the tent. Everything was very organized and detailed. As an added bonus, the order of the loops was listed on everyone's ride card. I already knew that the trail markers at Biltmore are unbeatable so I wasn't worried.

After the briefing, I stole Kelsie and she took me up to Skip's trailer where I blanketed the horses and called Mike to let him know I'd arrived safely.

Since Kelsie had been kind enough to play tour guide, I drove her back down to Dr. Bob's rig, which was parked way down the road at the pleasure riding camp. They had brought four horses (Worthy, Tess, Spirit, and Magic!) so they needed a lot of space. I greeted Bob with an enthusiastic hug and offered to make myself useful. Beth would be riding Spirit in the LD on Friday, and Kelsey would be taking Worthy out on the 50 (his first one back after his bout with EPM). Magic and Tess weren't going until Saturday so they could stay in their pens, but Kelsie and I took Spirit and Worthy up to vet in. It was a long, long, long walk and the first of many for that weekend.

Kelsie and Worthy.

The horses vetted well and we let them graze for a little while before returning them to their pens. Then I took my car back up to the crewing area to fill water buckets. Skip had said we were the red bucket and the orange bucket. Angela had said orange and pink. I did know that we were right along the gravel road where the horses would be coming in the next day. I did some process of elimination and guessed that it was the red bucket that said No Frills Top Ten on it. I borrowed Bob's truck to fill buckets, only to find out later that the hose would have reached. Whoops. There I go, making more work than I need to.

I also took the time to find Sara in camp. I knew she was in a tent and I knew she had a bay horse who wears red. I had met Sara before, though we hadn't spent much time together because Magic was thumping and I was busy with IV fluids. I had not met Gem. The mare is gorgeous! And so so sweet! I instantly liked her. Sara would be riding her first 100 on Saturday, and I wanted more than anything to stay and show my support. I hemmed and hawed over when I would leave after the ride. As for Sara, you can read her epic 100 mile story here. It's a great read! No spoilers.

After that, it was a lot of sit around and wait. It was a long drive to the airport and back, and as darkness fell, I ran out of things to do. I called Mike a few more times, but there was no reception in the trailer and I was getting cold. Eventually, I bundled up in the LQ and opened up my Kindle app to get some reading done. I've been picking away at Anne of Green Gables, a childhood favorite of mine, and I got several chapters in before Skip came back with Angela.

It was almost 9:30 by the time they arrived, and after we caught up briefly and took care of the dogs, we basically went straight to bed. I was still pretty amped from a long day, but once I fell asleep, I stayed asleep.

The 50 mile start the following morning was at 6:30. We had developed a plan and a timeline to get everyone through the start happily, and I have to say that we really stuck to the plan and it worked great. Angela got up first and took care of the dogs. I dressed and got all my gear together while Skip fed the horses and set to work on breakfast. I made myself eat, but was careful not to over do it. I really have to stop eating before the start. I always end up feeling queasy on the first loop if I do manage to get some food down. I'm better off just having a hard boiled egg and waiting until I'm actually awake to eat.

As soon as we finished eating and getting dressed, we went outside to tack the horses. I had everything organized and Moniet was saddled in no time. I got his leg protection out and adjusted Ozzy's bridle, which fit him surprisingly well. In fact, he seemed to love all the wiggle room around his ears, and having the bit hangers just attached to the cheek pieces took all the fuss out of putting the s-hack on him.  Angela was having some technical difficulties with her bridle, so I got Duke ready while Skip helped her come up with a solution.

Even with that delay, we were on the horses well before the start. Moniet was the only one who had gotten ridden that week, and Angela reported that all three horses were fit, fit, fit and feeling frisky. I told her I didn't need to hear any of that talk. Leading up to the moment when I threw my leg over my trusty steed, I was having a serious case of pre-ride jitters. I get myself so worked up about all the things that can go wrong at the start, and I am a total basket case. It doesn't matter if the footing is good or there aren't many horses or if the horse I am riding is a total saint, like Moniet is. I still get knots in my stomach. I know it's all in my head, but there seems to be absolutely nothing I can do about it.

Once I was in the saddle, though, all those feelings went away. Moniet was being so good, and I could feel that he was ready to go. I could feel that electric energy rippling just below the surface, but outwardly, he was cool as a cucumber. We walked and then trotted around camp, and all three horses were on their best behavior. Duke hasn't done a ride since Foxcatcher, but he didn't seem to care. Moniet was being the seasoned pro he is. And Shae is really starting to act the part as well. She had one moment where she got a little coiled, but she came right back down and then never put a foot wrong.

At 6:30, the trail opened and we were already moving in the right direction at a fast trot. There were 84 people starting the 50 and we were near the front of the pack. We kept it to a trot, but we were roaring right along, passing people left and right. A short way down the driveway to camp, a horse in front of us unseated his rider. She came off over his head and landed neatly on her feet. Skip put his hand up and brought everyone to a walk while she remounted. Then we were all on our way again.

When we got to the field before the lagoon, I let Moniet canter. The horse felt incredible and all my butterflies were gone. We were eating up the trail and I was excited for a long day of riding in these gorgeous surroundings. We settled into a rhythm with Skip and Duke in front, Shae parked behind them for speed control, and Moniet neatly tucked in behind, providing a barrier between Shae and any horses coming up behind us. Not that there were any horses coming up behind us. We moved along at a steady 9mph pace and kept picking off other riders.

A short while later, we crossed the road and made our way up the trails below the Biltmore House. The sun was just coming up and the sky was the most beautiful shade of cotton candy pink. The house rose through the mist and towered above us. The view was stunning. Usually, when I start this ride, the mist off the French Broad is too thick to see the house, and we don't ride close enough to get a good view until much later in the day. This was spectacular!

I tried to get a picture, but failed to do the scene any justice. I kept hoping the ride photographer captured this grandeur, but she had her hands really full.

We trotted and cantered up the big hill below the house, and when we reached the top, Becky Pearman was stationed with her camera at the ready. We were in a big pack of horses at that point, and we all tried to space out accordingly. Still, Moniet made his game face as the horse behind him tried to get a little closer. I had to laugh when I saw the photos because his tail is up and his stride is huge, but those ears make him look like he's not having the time of his life. Don't let him fool you, this horse was on fire.

Photo by  Becky Pearman, used with purchase.

Before long, we were in the woods and moving right along on soft, pine needle-covered ground. Farzad's group was not far behind us and we could hear their voices echoing in the trees from time to time, especially when the trail switch-backed through the forest. Mostly, though, we kept to ourselves.

We joked and laughed and had entirely too much fun on this loop. We kept taking turns jumping the horses over little obstacles on trail. I even hopped Moniet over a ditch with water in the bottom of it. I wish I lived closer to them because I would totally join Angela on her XC adventures. I think Moniet is the type of horse who would make me brave over fences.

We did have to detour briefly around a huge fallen tree that had come down during the night. It took some bush whacking and creativity, but it wasn't anything our horses couldn't handle. 

I realized pretty quickly that we were doing a trail I knew in reverse. This was the trail where Clover and Fleuron got separated at the July Biltmore ride in 2014. I had spent a lot of time hanging out with the water trough by the gatehouse with her, just letting her rest and cool out. I recognized the surroundings immediately. Some time later, Skip agreed, "Yes, we're doing the old trail backwards!"

All the same, there were some landmarks I hadn't noticed before...

What is this and how did I miss it last time?

A short while later, we passed a woman on foot. We asked if she was ok and she reported that her ankle had given out and she needed a break. When we asked if she needed to get back on her horse, she replied that she wasn't sure she could. Of course, we offered to help her, and when she told us that the horse, named Rhythm, might not stand still, we formed a horse box around him while she re-mounted. 

After that, we were alone again. I was basking in the nice weather. It was so refreshing to be riding dry without any chafing. I was glad I had thought to change into short sleeves before the start even though it had been chilly at the time. I was warm and comfortable and grinning from ear to ear.

In fact, when Angela announced that we were already 12 miles into the 15 mile first loop, I couldn't believe how the miles had flown by. The horses were working together like a well-oiled machine and the three of us were laughing and joking and having a grand old time. 

Then, coming down a slight incline two miles or so from the first hold, Moniet felt off. At first I thought I was just being paranoid. I changed diagonals and it felt even worse. I stood in my stirrups to see if it was just me and he felt just slightly uneven. Ugh. I watched his head. Sometimes when Moniet lolly gags at the trot, his ears swing left to right as he sways his head. Nope. There was a definite up and down motion to those regal white ears.

Crap.

"Angela, I think he's off," I finally said out loud. 

She turned around to look at us and then frowned. 

"Skip..."

Skip agreed. I had already pulled Moniet to a walk and was on the ground before anyone could say anything else. At first, I thought he was missing his left front shoe. Thank god! I got an Easy Boot out to replace the shoe only to find that the shoe was still on there. Damn. I pulled leg protection right then and there. No blood, no rubs, no swelling.

F#@&!!!

Angela and Skip were walking their horses. I told them to go ahead without me, and they refused to do it. I insisted.

"If I'm getting pulled, I do not want you sacrificing your rides for me! You're doing so well and your horses look awesome. I'm fine. GO!"

I had already decided that I was going to hand walk Moniet the rest of the way in. 

I was defeated. I was also extra sad. I was looking forward to so many more fun-filled miles on trail. Worst of all, Moniet didn't seem to think there was anything wrong. He was prancing happily alongside me, wondering where his friends with, and why this particular stupid rider continuously gets off of him at rides.

Seriously. The horse looked incredible.

We made really good time back to camp and I was grateful for my Terrains. The last time I had to walk a horse on foot (OD last year with Steel) my feet were bleeding by the time I arrived at the hold. Not this time! (With that bit of praise said, I have to admit that they're wearing out already and I am not thrilled. I have yet to find an Ariat product that lasts me more than six months or so.)

Skip and Angela had beat me back, of course, but not by much. I had gotten a head start on stripping tack off of Moniet and was in the vetting only a minute behind them. Obviously, my horse was already down to pulse criteria since we had walked the last two miles in, riderless.

Thankfully, the vetting was on nice, level grass. I trotted Moniet down and back, remembering everything my mentor (I need an adult!) had taught me. We moved out quickly and I kept Moniet's head up.

To my absolute shock and delight, he scored an A- on gait, but that's it. We were fit to continue!

Now the real work began.

I jogged Moniet down to the farrier and told him, "I need your help!" By this point, I was certain that the problem was in Moniet's left front foot. He still had pads on from No Frills and I was really hoping we were going to find a rock jammed in there, causing a problem.

The farrier pulled the shoe and the pad while Moniet stood patiently and politely without his buddies.

Sure enough, there was a ton of crud under the pad. The farrier cleaned the hoof up and found a tender spot, right where I expected there to be one. 

"How bad is it?" I asked.

"Not that bad. Just a little sensitive."

I asked for a new pad and shoe, and the farrier added some pine tar for added protection.

A few minutes later, Moniet walked away looking completely sound, even when I jogged him on the gravel driveway.

We were getting to go back out! The fun wasn't over!

We had a luxurious 50 minute hold and I finally relaxed. Angela handed me a pudding cup, which I devoured. Moniet didn't stop eating the entire time we were resting. 

Our out times were only a minute apart and we were going to go back out together. We got ready, tacked the horses up, refilled our water bottles, put leg protection on, and got ready to mount.

Skip and Angela walked towards the out timer, where there was a mounting block. I went to follow suit, only Moniet wouldn't follow. He was toe-touching lame on that left front, and my heart sank. I guess the adrenaline had worn off during the hold and he was really feeling it. There's a chance he could have worked through it or warmed out of it and we could have slowed way down and maybe made it another loop. I'll never know. The point is that I have other plans for this horse, and he had been so good, and the horse always comes first.

I waved Angela and Skip goodbye.

I walked slowly back over to the farrier and had the new shoe and pad pulled. Moniet felt instantly better.

I walked him back to the trailer, brushed him, and turned him loose in his pen, packed my stuff away, and walked down to the vet tent to declare my pull, rider option.

"Yeah, you don't look well," the vet told me.

I laughed and laughed.

Gee thanks.

I went and found Sara and told her my tale of woe. The good news is that we got to hang out quite a bit that day, so it wasn't a waste.

Then I went into crewing mode. 

I have to say that I think crewing a ride is harder mentally than riding it, for me at least. In fact, I actually texted Mike to ask, "How do you do this?!?!"

I started off by taking the dogs for a walk. They were happy to see me, though they'd been sleeping peacefully in the sunshine all morning.

Then I went back down to the crewing area to wait. The second loop was only 15 miles, and if Skip and Angela kept up the pace they'd been going, they'd be in in no time. I even remembered to bring my camera down.

The crewing area was packed with excitement. I loved watching all the happy, healthy horses trotting in and out. I loved seeing my fellow endurance riders in competition mode, doing this crazy thing we do.

I spent quite some time with Dr. Bob's group. Aja was there. I think it's been nearly a year since I saw her, and she always makes for such good company. I helped crew when Beth came and went on Spirit, and then again when Kelsie came in on Worthy, who was looking awesome.

And then I started to worry. We had been ahead of Kelsie on the first loop, so I figured Skip and Angela would be in shortly. No such luck. I waited and waited and hoped nothing was wrong. By the time Kelsie finished her hold and went back out again, I was wondering if I should be watching for horses or the horse ambulance. I texted Mike again to ask if he worries this much when I ride. Apparently he does. Crewing is hard.

I passed the time taking pictures. I saw faces old and new. The little girl who played I Spy with us at Nationals was there, riding with her mom. She was super excited to see me.

There was also a mule named Miles who was adorable and awesome. He has over 5000 AERC miles! Wow.

Fortunately, Angela texted me before I completely lost my mind. Unfortunately, it wasn't good news. Shae was off in her front feet as well. They were walking, and had been for quite some time. Ugh.

As it turns out, they had walked the last eight miles of the loop. They had dropped back significantly in the pack, but they were coming. When they did eventually arrive, I was relieved to see that both horses and riders still looked happy. 

Duke vetted through beautifully and I took over his care while Skip and Angela dealt with Shae's vetting.

Handsome Duke.

Shae did pass her vetting, same as Moniet had. Skip decided to try a different approach with her and see if she would fare better than Moniet had. I offered to take Shae to the farrier. She's not great about having her feet handled, and I wasn't riding so it made the most sense for me to take the risk. I played with Shae a little bit before we got into the farrier, and by the time he started on her, we had a pretty good understanding. She did need a break between shoes, but she stood still long enough to have both fronts pulled without a fuss.

Skip booted Shae for the last loop, and I hoped the boots would stay on. He informed me that they would be going very slow. I was glad they were going back out, but also secretly glad I had already been pulled. I love riding, but I can't think of anything much more miserable than walking 15 miles! Ick!

Soon, the hold was up and Skip and Angela went back out. Angela still seemed to be in good spirits. It would be several hours before I saw them again.

The next part of my day passed slowly. I went for a walk with Sara and Gem, and one of Sara's friends. I ate soup that Brenda had made. I took the dogs for another walk. I chatted with Farzad. I called Mike a handful of times. Mostly, I enjoyed the fact that the sun was out and I wasn't working. It was chilly, but it wasn't raining, and for that I was very, very grateful.

As it got closer to the cut off time for the 50, I packed Skip's truck and drove the mile or so down to the finish line. Angela had texted me to let me know they were only three miles or so out, and I wanted to make sure I didn't miss their finish. I parked quietly in the grass and listened to country music and just soaked up the view, remembering the last time we were parked here... for the 100 last spring, waiting at 3am for Kally to cross the finish line, the runway lit up and the crickets chirping in the dark. There is something about every aspect of this sport that makes my heart happy.

My peaceful thoughts were interrupted when I got another text. Angela asked that I bring some coolers to the finish line with me. 

!!!

I had to drive back and grab them, and I was so worried I wouldn't make it back in time. The road to and from the crew area was slow moving at best. There was truck traffic, trailer traffic, horse traffic, and foot traffic. The road was a lane and a half wide at best.

I drove the truck out of the field, tall spring grass slapping against the underbelly and sides. I threw it in park as soon as I could see the crew area and sprinted the rest of the way on foot. I ran back, coolers slung over my shoulder, jumped in the still-running truck, and picked my way carefully back up the road.

Phew! I made it.

Eventually, I saw a speck of pink and a speck of orange on the horizon. Angela texted, "Below the house. I can see you!"

The finish line people had a motion sensor set up in the field so they could tell how many riders were crossing the road. There were eight still out. I counted seven bings, and knew that Skip and Angela were two of them.

They appeared at the far end of the field and everybody stopped to graze. 

I think the finish line volunteers were getting impatient.

Everyone was fighting for turtle!!

Eventually, Skip and Angela gave up the fight and crossed the finish line, tied.

I sprang back into action, throwing tack in the bed of the truck, pulling leg protection, and putting coolers on horses. Then, Skip handed me Duke and jumped in the driver's seat to pony us back to camp. Our friend from that morning, Rhythm's owner, had crossed the line at the back of the pack as well. She had driven all the way from Wisconsin and was planning to ride again the next day, but at that particular moment, she could hardly walk. We insisted that she hitch a ride back with us.

It was a long, slow drive back to camp, but it was so much better than walking. We talked and laughed and enjoyed the view. We also held traffic up a bit, but nobody seemed to mind. We also met up with Rhythm's crew and they were relieved to see their rider in one piece.

I felt bad because Duke kept poking at the water tank in the bed of the truck. He was obviously thirsty, but couldn't fit his nose through the hole to get to the water. As soon as we got back to the crewing area, I walked him over to the closest muck tub and let him drink his fill. He nearly drained the whole thing! Good boy!

Duke passed his vetting with flying colors, and I waited with bated breath while Skip took Shae for her turn. They had ridden very conservatively and the footing had been good. The boots stayed on and did their job, but Angela wasn't convinced the mare was sound.

To my delight and Angela's relief, Shae passed the vetting and got her completion. I hugged Angela tight and she looked misty-eyed. She has really bonded with the feisty little mare these last two rides, and I think she really loves her.

And now, her future as an endurance horse looks uncertain.

"This sport is the worst," I sympathized with Angela. "It will break your heart every time."

I took care of dogs and horses and told Angela to go relax. Skip tore down the hold and then thanked me for sticking around to crew.

"Of course! What else was I going to do?"

"You could have gone home."

"Not a chance! That's not in my nature. I'm just sorry I'm not as good at crewing as Mike is."

The rest of the day is kind of a blur. I know that Pat, Farzad, and Farina came over for dinner and we had steak and broccoli and mac'n'cheese and mud slides. I remember seeing Liz, who came bearing gifts in the form of hard cider. I remember that I hadn't eaten much all day and I got so buzzed off half of that beer that Angela had to drive us back across camp.

We went to bed early that night because Angela would be riding the 55 on Tess the following morning. The start wasn't until 7am, but that's still early after a long, slow 50 mile ride. I was out cold the second my head hit the pillow, and I probably would have slept right through the start, except that my internal clock went off with ten minutes to spare. Skip had helped Angela get ready in the morning, then had crawled back into bed to warm his feet. He'd fallen asleep and neither of us had set an alarm.

We did make the start, and I cheered for Angela and tried to snap a photo in the pre-dawn light. 

Originally, I wanted to stay for the day and crew for Angela, then stay to cheer Sara on at the finish. In the end, however, I decided that I really needed to go home. I had a long, solo drive ahead of me, and I couldn't imagine staying up until 4 or 5am and then making it home in one piece. Besides, it's much better for the clients at the clinic if I get some rest before I come in on Monday. Plus, Mike was at home both working and holding down the fort, and I was sure he was nervous about Julio again.

Skip made me French toast for breakfast, and I drank my fill of OJ and coffee. Then, with a hug and a thank you, he kicked me out of the trailer and told me to go home.

I did pass Kally on Magic as I was leaving camp, and I hugged her and wished her good luck. I wanted to stay for the start of the LD (his first start of the year) but every minute counted.

I got on the road and was back on the highway in a matter of minutes. Once I hit 26 West, I knew the way home, and I shut my tablet off, cranked my music up, and put my foot on the pedal. Thankfully, I made much better time on the way home, and it seems strange to me that I can navigate from 600 miles away without even thinking about it. I also brought the sunshine back to NJ with me. It was worth driving 1200 miles round trip to have a spot of nice weather for a change.

There's something about this sport.

No matter how it goes or what rotten luck comes my way, I can't seem to quit, and I come away from it a better person...