Biltmore 2017

When Dr. Bob saw me at No Frills, he asked if he'd also be seeing me at Biltmore. I replied, only half-jokingly, "I'll be there if I can find a horse." I knew Evelyn's plan was to ride Dart in the 75 at Biltmore. Dodie's mare, Penny, had injured herself and Dodie has been riding Steel in her place. Bob's horses are all either out of commission or were spoken for.

For those of you who are wondering, Magic's thumping issue never did resolve. My last completion with him was in 2015 at Biltmore. Then he thumped at RBTR and Iron Mountain. Then Julia rode him successfully in the LD at Nationals. He finished the season by thumping on Kally at the Ohio ride. In 2016 he completed the LD at Biltmore with Kally (seemingly the only venue where he has success). Then he thumped for Dr. Bob on the LD at Top of the Rock. At Black Sheep Boogie, Abby rode him super conservatively in the LD in an attempt to keep him from thumping. They ended up being over time. I don't know if he thumped there or not. His last ride was with Beth at last year's RBTR. They tried the LD with him one last time. He thumped again. So Magic is sitting out this season. It's a shame because he has matured over the last two years and his brain is right where it needs to be. Horses!!!

Evelyn heard my musings about Biltmore and generously offered to let me take Rella or Dee in the LD on Friday. I asked if I could hitch a ride down with Jeff and Evelyn because North Carolina is a long way to drive for an LD. In 2016, I drove all the way there only to get pulled after the first loop. Since Mike is still working a ton of hours every week, I really didn't want to make that drive by myself.



Initially, I was supposed to ride Rella by myself on Friday. However, Jeff eventually decided that he'd be willing to do the LD on Friday on top of doing the 75 with Dolce on Saturday. This would leave him with a total of 100 miles over the course of 48 hours, and meant that I would have company on the LD. So it was decided that I would ride Dee and Jeff would ride Rella in the LD on Friday. Then, Jeff and Evelyn would ride the 75 on Dolce and Dart on Saturday, and I would happily crew for them. I absolutely love Biltmore and I was happy just to get a chance to go and take a vacation from the day to day stress of my life. (I'll come back to this in a little while, and we can all have a good laugh together.)

Then, Dart came up lame at No Frills. While he quickly came sound over the next few days, Evelyn was left questioning whether he was ready to do 75 miles two weeks later. (My personal opinion on this was that, no, he was not ready.) By the end of the week, Dart still wasn't quite right. He wasn't lame, but he wasn't his usual perky self. Bloodwork was sent out and it eventually turned out that Dart had come down with Lyme disease sometime between his spring shots (when he was last tested) and No Frills. This made me feel better about our pull. Lyme would definitely make the tough terrain take a toll much faster on a horse. Now that we have a diagnosis, Dart will be getting treatment in between competitions (doxy is illegal in AERC and takes 3-5 days to clear out of the horse's system).

In the mean time, it was decided that Evelyn and I would swap horses for the weekend. I would take Dart in the LD, with the goal of getting him through the ride with all A's on his card, and Evelyn would attempt the 75 on Dee. Evelyn's plan for the season was to leg Dee up and try for the new Northeast 100 Mile Triple Crown (OD, Vermont, NE Challenge). 75 miles at Biltmore would give Evelyn a good idea of whether the mare was ready to tackle the Beast of the East five weeks later.

We ended up leaving Wednesday evening and driving through the night to North Carolina. This would give the horses a break between the long haul and the first start. This meant I worked a full day on Wednesday, then packed my things, kissed Mike and the dogs goodbye, and drove an hour and a half to Jeff and Evelyn's house in North Jersey. I had packed efficiently and it didn't take long to transfer all my belongings into the LQ of the horse trailer. The only thing I forgot was my GPS watch, so there will be no ride stats in this entry. Whoops. Oh well. It was only an LD.

(ETA: I did manage to find maps and elevation profiles online.)

It was roughly 11:30pm when we loaded the horses and pulled out of the driveway for the long haul to NC. Jeff ended up doing all the driving, though I offered to take over at a few points. I dozed a little bit early on in the drive, but once we hit the Virginia line, I found myself wide awake, and took to keeping Jeff company while we waited for the sun to come up.

At 3:21am, we stopped in Maryland for gas. The horses looked alert and happy in their luxury trailer.

I did some reading on the way down while Jeff drove and Evelyn slept. We had brought their dogs along for the trip. Bella slept on the floor pretty much the whole way there, but Dagan made it his mission to be in my lap as much as possible. This helped me with the fact that I was missing Julio terribly. This would be the longest I'd ever been away from him, and I still have a lot of anxiety left over from his medical problems last year. (For what it's worth, Julio was totally fine without me, and Mike filled in with "bro time". This is a me problem.)

Dagan keeping me company in the back seat.

We pulled over in Botetourt County, VA to get gas just as the sun came up, then took a brief detour to get breakfast at the local BK. Thankfully, it was early and the town was deserted, so we had no problem getting the huge rig in and out of the parking lot. I had finally managed to fall asleep just before we made this stop, so my brain was definitely not functioning. An old farmer was sitting at the table inside, drinking his coffee, and he was cracking up as I struggled to order breakfast, use the bathroom, and figure out how to put a lid on my coffee. Don't even get me started on the pull door.

Good morning, Virginia.

Before long, we were in the mountains of Tennessee, and I was starting to get excited about our arrival at Biltmore. Jeff and Evelyn had never been, and I promised them it was beautiful.

We made one final gas stop just to play it safe. Diesel availability, especially for large rigs, can be a little hit or miss, especially as you get off the beaten path. By this point, I think Dart was ready to get off the box. He was perky and nosy and glad that I opened his window so he could take in the sights while we were stopped. (We ship with the screens and bars up, don't worry!)

Just before noon, we pulled onto the Biltmore Estate grounds and wound our way back to base camp. I grinned as the familiar views rolled by. There were 330 riders entered in the various distances for the weekend, and camp did not disappoint.

Thankfully, we were able to find a good spot to park, that was level with good grass, easy access to a porta-potty  and plenty of room for the horses. We had hoped that Stevensons would park next to us later in the day when they arrived. Ride management had the parking area marked out with little flags. Because we had four horses on one rig, and no crew vehicles, we were able to use two flags worth of space.

Jeff parked and we unloaded the horses, who seemed happy to be out and grazing, but were no worse for the wear of the long trip. Evelyn and I grazed everyone while Jeff set up the new Hi Ties. The woman whose horses got loose in Texas and caused all the hoopla several weeks ago was parked near us, and I noticed everyone was being extra careful about their containment methods. I saw several campsites that were boxed in by vehicles on three or four sides, and several people had unhooked their rigs to create barriers for their horses. Our four were on their Hi Ties with two hot tape pens around the rig for added security. Rella spooked herself and pulled free of the Hi Tie at one point, but didn't go anywhere since she was still in a fence and the other three horses had stayed put. It was a very effective system that made it easy to leave two horses alone in camp while the other two were out on trail. The horses were able to eat, drink, lay down, and roll, but were secure the entire weekend.

I know some people don't like Hi Ties, but I absolutely adore them and if I ever got the resources to do this sport on my own, that is the first thing I'd install on my own horse trailer. I sort of knew that already because Hi Ties are the only way to reliably secure Ozzy for long periods of time, but this weekend confirmed that in my mind.

The rest of the day passed in a bit of a blur. We signed in, grabbed our very detailed ride packets, and studied the various maps. We took Rella and Dart down to vet, and both passed with flying colors. They were both well hydrated, peppy, and eager to move out. There was no sign that they'd just hauled all the way through the night. We set up the crewing area and got our tack ready for the following day. Evelyn made a ton of delicious food while Jeff ran out for more booze and some basic supplies. The Stevensons did not arrive as the day waned, and I did more reading and dog cuddling to pass the time. We attended the chaotic ride meeting, and I said hi to several familiar faces along the way.

It was barely getting dark when all three of us decided we were more than ready for bed. It had been a long day and a half, and we were all having a hard time keeping our eyes open and our heads from drooping. I texted with Mike to make sure everything was ok at home, read a few more chapters of Little Women, and fell into a deep sleep.

The weather over night took a turn for the worse, and the skies opened up. I was grateful to be sleeping in the LQ and not the tent, and I found myself feeling somewhat sorry for the horses. In fact, at one point, I debated asking Evelyn if she thought we should put them in the trailer. They were blanketed, but there was really no place for them to get out of the downpour. The rain beat against the trailer roof like I have never heard it do, and I found myself dreading a cold, wet start. I worried as I peeked out the trailer window and saw no sign of the Stevensons, but it turns out they'd wisely decided not to pull their Freightliner into the soup that was ride camp. Additionally, they hadn't arrived until well past midnight, and they didn't want to wake everyone. Instead, they parked in the overflow parking where the pleasure riders typically camp.

Thankfully, the rain let up by morning, and while the trails were thoroughly soaked and the French Broad threatened to overflow her banks, we woke up to clear skies and pleasant temps.

The horses got fed and Jeff and I donned our riding gear and headed out to tack the horses up for our leisurely 8:30 start. I was having my usual case of pre-ride jitters, and suggested waiting until the trail was about to open before mounting up. Jeff readily agreed and I looked forward to a nice easy start. Again, my goal was to get through this ride safely with all A's for Dart. I was not in it to race. "It's just an LD," I kept telling myself.

At 8:15, Jeff and I walked down to give our numbers to the in-timer. By the time we trekked all the way back up to the horse trailer, it was 8:25 and we decided to mount up and head for the starting line.

The trail had already opened by the time we got there, but we could see several people still behind us. We found ourselves in our own little bubble between the front runners and those waiting a few minutes to go out. We played leap frog with one gray Paso, but otherwise we just sort of kept to ourselves, alternating between a brisk walk and a quiet trot as the horses warmed up. Perfect. Soon, we found a good rhythm and slowly started to catch a few people as we rolled along on quiet, well-behaved horses. My jitters faded away.

The first loop of the LD was 14 miles, black access to blue. We made quick work of the access trail, arriving at the landmark white bridge across the river in no time. The horses crossed the bridge boldly, and we caught a few more riders on the other side, where the trail turned right.

From there, the trail took us the short way through the woods and popped us out behind the Biltmore vineyards. This is by far my favorite part of the estate and I gawked at the rolling landscape as we trotted side by side up the grassy lanes. We spotted a family of geese, and I was glad they moved on their way without the parents attacking the horses.

I was delighted to see Becky's truck parked at the top of the hill, and I knew she'd get a great background for ride photos. She did have her work cut out for her since some tour buses had lined up right where she was aiming the camera at first. Still, a quick adjustment meant she got the photos she wanted without the buses interfering.

Dart still doesn't quite understand why I hold him back when we pass the photographer. He gets pretty mad when I let the girls get ahead of him, but it means he's extra forward when it's our turn for photos.

Photo by Becky Pearman, used with purchase.
Four off the floor and super peppy. Boing!

Next, we came to what would be our biggest challenge of the day. Just as I was reminiscing about cows in years past, we found a few of them along the trail.

A few moments later, we came upon a more densely grouped herd. This batch was clearly intrigued by the horses, and they moved in one undulating swarm as they approached the horses, looking curious and playful.

Neither Dart nor Rella were particularly thrilled about this new development, and neither one had seen cows previously. The horses were being very good, but their body language was tense and cautious. Jeff and I unanimously decided that it would be safe and probably faster to just dismount and walk by the cows on foot. Dart and Rella were much more confident that way, and we passed the black Angus crowd, including a pair of stunning, enormous bulls, without incident.

Once we were remounted, we made quick work of the blue section of the loop. The footing was good despite the previous night's rains, and I knew most of the trail from years past. Even without my GPS watch, the miles flew by, and I was surprised when we emerged back at the white bridge back.

The black access trail is less direct on the way back, adding a few miles to the loop. It also features some of my favorite trail on that side of the river. With the clear skies, we got a particularly good view of the house as we emerged on top of the black trail hill. I did have my hands full with Dart for  a second, which was unusual since he'd been so good thus far. As it turns out, the gray Paso had caught up to us (that guy was really rolling along!) and I think Dart found his rapid gait worrisome. Jeff and I let the pair go since I knew there was a steep downhill coming up, and I had no interest in practicing any shenanigans while going down hill, and especially on slick, wet grass.

Soon, we were making a beeline back to camp, and the first hold. Dart knew it and was fresh and a little hot. I was glad to see he was feeling so good. This is also when I found out he jumps. We had come at a large puddle at a lively trot, and next thing I knew, I just saw knees tucked neatly in front of us as Dart launched us both clear over the top of it. I squeaked in surprise, but managed to stay on.

A few minutes later, we were at the in-timer, grabbing our little white slips. In years past, the way the slips have worked is as follows:
You come in and give the in timer your ride number. They issue you a white slip (chit) with your in time. You take that to the P&R box, where they take your pulse, record it on your white slip, and calculate your out time. Then, volunteers run the chit to the out timer, saving you a trip and making everything run efficiently. You don't need your ride card until after you have pulsed in successfully, and you can put it away after vetting. In fact, your crew could very realistically hold onto your ride card for the duration of the ride and you wouldn't miss it.

This year, they had the white slips, but something must have gotten lost in translation. Once you got your chit, you kept it. The pulse taker still needed your ride card and you still had to go to the out timer yourself. Basically, now there was twice as much paperwork. The only perk was that you could look at your chit to remember your out time without digging out and messing up your ride card. I found that it made things confusing, but things were running smoothly despite this mix up and the fact that there were a ton of riders coming and going (and that people had started vetting in for Saturday's rides at the same time).

We stripped tack right away and let the horses get a drink. Both were thirsty and tanking up well. Then we went straight over to the P&R box, where both horses immediately met pulse criteria (gotta love Arabs!) We were quickly ushered in to the vetting area, where both horses passed their vetting without any blips. Perfect!

Then we were in for a luxurious 50 minute hold. I ate... something... and stretched my legs. I was riding in Evelyn's Pandora saddle, and while the saddle fit me well, her stirrups hadn't been quite long enough for me. Jeff had punched an extra hole just for me, and it was as long as the stirrup leather would allow, but it was still a touch shorter than I normally ride. Still, it was just an LD and I was dealing with it fine.

It's time for Dom's Honest Tack review! This was my first time in a Pandora. I had heard from multiple people that they are ah-mazing!!! saddles and that everyone who rides in one buys one. To be frank, it was just another saddle to me. I was comfortable and nothing chafed, which is a big plus. But for the price, my top positive remarks are: it's super light and it comes in cool colors. I'm still perfectly happy in my cheap little Wintec.

Soon, it was time to electrolyte, saddle up, and head out on the second loop, 11 miles, Blue South Short.

This loop involves riding out one side of camp, then doubling back and riding down the other side of camp for added mileage. As you go out of camp the first time, there is a fork in the trail. It was really well marked with a sign that pointed right and said, "100 MILERS ONLY". The Blue South *Short* loop went left, and that's the way we went. Up until this point, Dee and Dolce  hadn't realized that we'd left them, and I shushed Dart when he thought about calling to them as we went past.

On the other side of camp was an iron-rail bridge, followed by Becky again. This time, Dart was in the lead and much more relaxed. That didn't make him any more earthbound though!

Photo by Becky Pearman, used with purchase.

Soon, we rode under the highway overpass and onto what I told Jeff is the "ugly" side of the estate. For a brief moment, I wondered if we were on the correct trail. As I said, it was really well marked, but I always second guess myself, and I am really, truly not allowed to navigate. Soon, we started seeing riders coming back in, and all of them had L's on their rumps, so I felt better about us being on the right course.

This loop featured lots of water troughs full of fresh, clean water. It also wound us through some of my favorite pine trees, which I never get sick of. The horses were really thirsty and hungry by this point and kept diving into every puddle and patch of grass. I took advantage of the shade and let Dart do some walking, mostly so he could use a different set of muscles for a change. The trails were getting a little torn up by this point, and there were a few spots where things got a little treacherous and walking was the only option. We also got some good views of the really swollen French Broad, which was the closest to flooding that I've seen it.

 

Next thing I knew, we had looped back the way we came and were passing a sign pointing the way back to camp. The miles were flying by! The horses still felt great, with plenty of energy left, and we let them pick the pace as we closed in on the finish line. We had been riding in our little bubble for quite some time, but we soon caught a couple more riders. This particular pair seemed really upset that we were coming up behind them and thinking of passing. They kicked their horses into a canter, and we let them stay ahead of us. About a mile later they glanced over their shoulders and seemed perplexed to find us still trotting steadily behind them. We would go on to pass this pair shortly before the finish line, but I think we would have beaten them anyway since LD finish order isn't determined until you pulse in, and our horses were visibly fitter than theirs. While my Biltmore experience this year (as far as the people are concerned) was extremely positive, I still chuckle at how seriously some of the Southeast riders take their LD's. Don't get me wrong. Winning an LD is a big accomplishment and I'm not trying to poo-poo the competitive nature of AERC's shorter distances, but it is definitely a difference I notice between regions.

Before long, we were in the forest behind camp and we slowed the horses to a walk. Jeff had had a great time riding with me (and vice versa!) and we joked and laughed as we cooled the horses and approached the finish line.

"Any time you want to ride an LD together, you let me know!" Jeff grinned.
"Yes, that was an awesome ride!" I smiled back.

We crossed the finish line, untacked the horses, and sponged necks for a moment before walking calmly over to the P&R box. Dart looked half asleep and I knew his pulse was down, but the volunteer I got there furrowed her brow and gave me a bad attitude. Dart tried to rub his head on me and I didn't allow it, and the volunteer chastised me for not holding him still enough for her to count. Then she told me he was still high and I needed to wait five minutes and come back. Uh. No.

I quietly and politely requested a different pulse taker and Dart met the finishing criteria of 60bpm. Ugh.

By the time we vetted a moment later, he was down to 52bpm.

Our final vetting went brilliantly. Dart was as fresh as ever and I got my wish of finishing with all A's across the board. His back and girth looked great. He was sound with nice, loose muscles. His guts were rumbling away and his hydration scores were perfect. I was delighted!

Photo by Evelyn.

Mandatory finish line selfie.

It was the perfect ride day, and I was happy with another couple miles under my belt. I've been riding the Limited Distance train this year, and I'm not complaining. There really is something to be said about the Leisure Division ;) Done by one and all that! Best of all, I wasn't even a little sore or tired.

The rest of the day was basically a repeat of Thursday afternoon. Food, drinks, vetting the horses, ride meeting, take care of the critters, hang out in the LQ. I called Mike and caught up on the latest news. I had already texted him to let him know I had finished my ride safely.

We also got our awards, which were very useful feed buckets. I love that endurance ride prizes are things you can actually use. I used to be sad about the lack of ribbons (mostly because I rarely show and therefore have very few of them) but I realize now that I'd probably just stuff ribbons in a drawer and let them rot. Jeff and I found out that we finished 21st out of 57 starters. Considering that we'd waited at the start and gone at a very casual pace all day, I was very pleased.

By this point, ridecamp was pretty drenched from on-off showers all day long. As people started to get stuck in the mud, and the tractor pulled them out one after another, I started to suspect that I wouldn't be able to use the truck for crewing the following day.

Not looking promising.

That night, we went to bed early again. Despite the crack of dawn mornings, I get more sleep at endurance rides than I do at home. By the time darkness fell, the rain was coming down heavily and steadily. We had blanketed the horses again, partly to keep them warm and partly to keep them clean. All of us kept checking the radar, and it wasn't looking good.

We were all up at 4am, bustling around and getting everything ready for what would be a longer day than any of us anticipated. The dogs looked at us like we were nuts as we pulled on our boots and set to work, tacking the horses up in the dark.

Luckily, the sun started to rise as Jeff and Evelyn gave their numbers to the out timer and got ready for their 6:30 start. Thankfully, it was not raining at that exact moment, though the skies looked ominous.

At 6:30, the trail opened for competition. Jeff, Evelyn, and Bryn (riding separately) were off on the 75 miler. Peggy, who was supposed to ride with Jeff and Evelyn, somehow missed them at the start and went out alone.

Once they were safely out on trail, I set to work. I had jokingly texted Mike asking him if he had any advice on how to crew. "I don't even know what to do with my ride card thingy without you!" I wrote. He did actually offer some really useful tips, and I wished we were crewing together. I think we would have had a blast. While I don't do it as often as I'd like (because travel is expensive) I enjoy crewing as much as I enjoy riding!

With that said, I was not thrilled with the mud situation in camp. Since we'd been unable to move the truck the night before, all the hold stuff was still at the trailer. Even if I'd been able to get the truck moved in the morning, there are no crew vehicles allowed in the hold area once the trail is open. This meant I got to lug the hold cart through the thick, slippery mud for half a mile. I think I got more exercise that morning than I normally do in a week!

Once I got the hold set up, it was a lot of hurry up and wait. I called Mike for a bit, took some pictures of the front runners in the hundred (Meg) and chatted with Bryn's dad.

There were four distances going that day (30, 55, 75, 100) and camp was bustling with activity.

The ride was co-sanctioned with FEI and there were several international riders coming and going as well. I overheard a lot of political banter regarding FEI's scouting for the US Team. Basically, they'd come to watch the 100 mile horses compete, then started watching the 75 mile horses instead, declaring that anyone who rode the 100 miler in these conditions was insane. (I'm obviously paraphrasing.) My thoughts are that riding 75 miles is not that much less crazy than riding the full 100, and that if the officials thought the conditions were unsafe, they should have cancelled the ride (or the division). It was interesting to see many 100 mile riders either not start or drop down to the 75 though.

Poor Wendy drove all the way down from NJ for what was supposed to be Sterling's first 100, only to wake up with a terrible stomach bug and never make it across the starting line. That was an omen of how things were going to go for Team New Jersey that day.

Hi, Shae Shae!

Soon, Bryn came in off the first loop, near the front of the pack. I knew Jeff and Evelyn would be a ways behind her, so I jumped in and helped Paul crew for her. Bryn was looking to get her COC that weekend, and Lunar looked and felt great.

While Lunar and Bryn rested up, I settled back down and waited for Jeff and Evelyn. Paul and I had our crewing areas set up side by side, so we helped with each other's riders all day. This worked for me because I got fed in the process. (Skip also fed me at one point when I wandered over to chat with him between loops. He was crewing for Angela in the 100. She was riding Shae.)

Soon, Jeff and Evelyn appeared by the in timer and I jogged down to meet them, with coolers in hand. I draped the coolers over the horses rumps, grabbed chits, and started stripping tack. I'd already set up grain, beet pulp, electrolytes, sponging buckets, and drinking water. We'd grabbed the corner spot in the hold, which meant we had a fence corner to use as a saddle rack.

Jeff and Evelyn were 14+ miles in and the horses were doing well. Unfortunately, Evelyn had taken a fall on the first loop and badly bruised her SI joint. She was pretty sore, but insisted on jogging Dee herself. I trailed them up to the vetting area and watched the horses go. I thought they both looked good, but the vet commented that Dee looked a little tight in her right hind, which has apparently been a problem for her in the past. They held her card.

While Jeff and Evelyn ate and drank, I massaged and stretched Dee's hindquarters and gave her an extra dose of electrolyte. When the time came to re-check, the vets allowed her to go back out, but I had a bad feeling that things were going to go downhill from here.

After 50 minutes, Jeff and Evelyn went back out on trail for the longest loop of the day (20+ miles).

Somewhere in there, Jen came in off the first loop of the 50. She was riding Maddie and she'd sort of accidentally ended up in the Top Ten at the start, and had managed to stay there. Maddie came up a little tight behind as well. The cold and damp was really doing a number on several horses that day, and everywhere I looked, I saw piles of blankets draped over haunches, and crew dutifully massaging hind ends.

Maddie worked out of her stiffness and was allowed to go back out. Unfortunately, after getting all A's during her second hold, she peed and her urine was pretty dark. The horse was fine metabolically, but with tears in her eyes, Jen told me, "This is probably the nicest horse I'll ever own and I can't take a chance. I don't want to pull, but I can't hurt her." Jen ended up rider optioning to prevent injuring Maddie. As it turns out, the mare was perfectly fine and was not tying up or having any other metabolic issues. Still, this sport is supposed to be all about the welfare of the horse, and I firmly believe in playing it safe and saving the horse for another day when in doubt. Still, it was a bitter pill to swallow.

And so the day passed. After each loop, I would blanket the horses, pull tack, and accompany Jeff and Evelyn to the vet. Then I'd feed and electrolyte the horses before tacking them back up and sending everyone out on trail again. Once they left, I would clean up the hold area, prepare the next batch of food and electrolytes, and head back to the trailer for miscellaneous items. Dry socks for Jeff, pain killers for Evelyn, a bottle of Smirnoff. While at the trailer, I would walk the dogs, let Dart and Rella loose to graze for a little bit, and occasionally grab something for myself. I got into a rhythm and things were running smoothly. As the day wore on, the rain got more consistent and the temperatures kept dropping. I'd been soaked since about 10am, and was out of warm, dry layers to wear. I was chilly, but not yet uncomfortable. I continued to take photos around camp, and felt like I was channeling my inner Mike as I found the noisy peeper next to my chair and snapped a picture of it too. As the rain got heavier and more frequent, however, I put the camera away for safe keeping.

All day long, Bryn would come in and then, some time after her, Jeff and Evelyn would arrive. As the day went on, the gap between them grew. I am pretty good at crewing, if I do say so myself, but I am not good at figuring out when my riders will be in. I can see how this could be frustrating and worrisome for Mike, and I think we're going to get a tracking app for the rides where we have reception.

Somewhere in the process, I made a new friend. Lily was crewing for Peggy in the 75. Lily is from Maryland and is normally an eventer. On this weekend, however, she had attempted and completed her first LD on her beautiful Oldenburg mare, Sedona. I met Lily at Skip's crewing tent and we instantly hit it off. By the end of the day, which we spent crewing and hanging out together, we were fast friends.

Lily and Sedona. Photo by Becky Pearman.

So how did everyone's ride go?  Well, as I mentioned, it was not a good day for the NJ riders.

Bryn was doing phenomenally in the 75. She came in leading after the second or third loop. Not only was Bryn in front, but she was leading by about half an hour over the next rider. It was impressive and Lunar was doing fabulously.

Then, on the fourth loop, Blue South Short, Bryn made a wrong turn. This is the loop that winds around camp. We'd done it in the LD on Friday. As I mentioned, there was a sign pointing the way for the 100 milers. Everyone else had to make a left. I guess Bryn had heard Jen say something about "making a right and going up the hill". Jen was referring to a part of the trail after you go past camp the second time, but Bryn missed the memo, and made the right to the long blue loop. She added about ten miles to her loop. She still came in in the Top Ten, but had lost the lead position.

In FEI, if you get pulled, the horse has to go through a mandatory "non competing period". If you rider option, you don't have to do that. Nobody wanted Lunar to go 85+ miles that day or they would have entered him in the 100. They have bigger plans for him this season.

After some debate, Bryn made the painful decision to withdraw from the ride. She is so mature and handles everything with grace and dignity, so it's easy to forget that she's only 17. I wanted to cry for her. Two riders down. Two to go.

Meanwhile, Evelyn continued to struggle with Dee's right hind. By this point, we'd added a rump rug to her saddle, and I was just layering on top of it at the holds. After the 20 mile loop, Evelyn jogged Dee for me before taking her up to vet. I thought she looked ever so slightly uneven, but not bad. The vets concurred and held her card, saying that she had to come back for a re-check, but so long as Dee didn't get worse, she would be allowed to continue.

After more massage, electrolytes, and stretches, Evelyn jogged her out for me again. I groaned. Dee was visibly off and I thought she was worse and pulled for sure. To my surprise, she passed her re-check, but I thought to myself that I probably would have pulled her if I was riding. Still, I knew that part of Evelyn's motivation was that she wanted to keep Jeff going. Dolce was doing really well, and I think Evelyn was worried that if she RO'ed, Jeff would do the same.

Next up was the red loop, another 15 miles. Jeff and Evelyn were out longer than I expected, but the trail conditions were getting treacherous as 200+ horses traipsed across the mucky grounds. By this point, everyone was freezing cold and soaking wet. Dee came in looking about status quo. The vets went through the same routine again. Re-check, but if she doesn't get worse, she can go back out. Each time, it was a different vet. Each time, they let her go.

Then it was the blue loop, and in for the final hold. Lily had been keeping me company and we were having a grand old time. Skip had slipped me a V8 energy drink, which was having the desired effect. Bryn, Jen, Lily, and I were having a good time, laughing and relaxing, and passing the time. Lily had picked up on the crewing thing in record time and was a great help when Jeff and Evelyn came in for the last time, cold, stiff, and sore.

Dolce's back was a little tender at this point, and I swapped out her saddle pad and added baby powder. Dee was about the same and, after a recheck, the vets let her go out on the last loop.

"Do you want anything special at the finish line?" I asked Evelyn as they headed out for the last loop.
"Alcohol," came the short reply.

Which is how, as a gray, damp dusk fell upon the world, I found myself on one of the nicest estates in the country, sitting in a Porta Potty with an entire handle of vodka in one hand. "How did I get to this point in my life?" I briefly wondered. That thought was followed by, "I paid to do this."

I was dreading the mile and a half trek from the crewing area to the finish line. Thankfully, Skip came to the rescue. He gave Lily and me a ride up in his truck, which made carrying blankets, feed, and vodka much easier. He even let us sit in his truck with the heat blasting for a while. It was the first time I'd been warm in nearly twelve hours.

Sadly, Skip soon had to head back to the hold because Angela would be coming in off her next loop shortly. Lilly and I exited the truck, wrapped ourselves in horse blankets, and waited in the darkness together.

"It is May and I am in North Carolina. I should not be able to see my breath," I observed. The temperature gauge on the dashboard had read a nippy 38 degrees.

As I do every year, I got excited goosebumps as we waited for the first riders to cross the finish line. It wasn't much longer before the front runners came in, and soon after that, Peggy crossed the line too. Lilly ran forward to greet her rider.

The two of them disappeared into the darkness towards camp, leaving me alone in the dark. Now the minutes started to drag, and I wrapped my horse blanket tighter around my shoulders, shivering violently against the damp and cold. It was 10:30pm. I had been soaked through for over twelve hours, and without the sun to occasionally warm my bones, I was starting to feel pretty miserable.

Thankfully, endurance riders are a welcoming sort, and it wasn't long before a woman rolled down her truck window and asked if I wanted to sit with her group in the warmth. This was an invitation I couldn't resist and I eagerly climbed into the passenger seat. I was introduced to Susan and her friends. They were crewing for Susan's friend and mentor, Bonnie, and were expecting her to be leading the 100's. The whole group was local to Biltmore and we talked about trails and ride stories. Susan is interested in trying Old Dominion and asked if I had ever done it. The time passed quickly again, and I was grateful for the good company as well as the truck's heated seats. I'm honestly not sure how I would have fared without Susan's kindness. I'd like to think I would have toughed it out, but the elements were really starting to take their toll, and I had been wishing I was either on a horse or in bed.

Soon, Bonnie came in. She was in fact winning the hundred and I cheered myself hoarse alongside Susan and friends. They took the horse and the truck and disappeared into the night as well, but not before Susan knocked on another truck window and transferred me to my next warm seat.

This truck belonged to an FEI official, and I tried to make small talk a few times before giving up and sitting in silence. I was too busy being warm to notice that it was awkward. I am sure it had been a long day for this nameless man, and he was very relieved when his shift ended. At that point, I was back out on my own.

Before I had time to think about the fact that I was getting cold again, I got a text message from Jeff. My heart shot to my throat, knowing that this couldn't be good news. I'd already been worried because it was an hour past when I expected Jeff and Evelyn to come in. The last loop was only 14 miles. Even in the dark, it shouldn't take four hours to ride.

The text message confirmed my fears.
"Dee is tying up. Can you meet us in the road? We're below the house."
"I'm on my way," I replied.

I notified the finish line volunteers that there was a problem. They looked concerned, but nobody budged or made a move to call ride management. My phone battery was nearly dead, and I didn't have emergencies contacts saved.

I took off at a jog, following the lit runway to the end, then stumbling glow stick to glow stick until I found a short cut to the road.

As I sprinted to where I knew the trail crossed the pavement, I spotted headlamps approaching from the right. Slowing to a jog, I called out, "I'm in the road! Person in the road! Don't get startled!"
"Dom? Is that you?" Evelyn's voice was strained.
"Yes! I'm here! What can I do?"

Jeff appeared on Dolce, followed closely by another rider, and Evelyn on foot, leading Dee. The mare looked tired and out of it, but was moving well. She didn't look tied up to me.

"I think our best bet is to hand walk to the finish line and meet the ambulance there," I said, taking action. I grabbed Evelyn's ride card, which had emergency contact information on it, and dialed Cheryl.

As I tried to describe the situation, Dee collapsed in the grass. Her front legs just sort of gave out, and down she went. The three of us urged her to her feet and got her moving, but she kept trying to lie back down. She wasn't tying up! She was colicking! Badly.

I think my phone call to Cheryl went something like this:
"Hi, Cheryl. It's Dom Turner. We're having a medical problem with one of the 75 mile horses about half a mile from the finish line. I think it would be a good idea to get the ambulance out here and... O MY GOD THE HORSE IS ON THE GROUND!!!!"

What? My brain was overloaded and my body was worn out.

In the end, we decided that the ambulance would meet us at the finish line, assuming they could get it through the swampy field safely. The treatment vet would come with the ambulance to start working on Dee right away.

Evelyn took Dee's reins and led the mare towards the finish line. Jeff was still mounted and rode with us. After we crossed, I told him, "Go in and vet your horse. I will take care of this. I don't want you to ride 75 miles for nothing. Go get your completion!! There's nothing you can do here."
Jeff hesitated, but Evelyn backed me up and told him to go.

I tried in vain to call Jen and let her know what was going on. Then my phone died. Of course.

We made it past the finish line and back onto the access road to camp. Evelyn had sort of disappeared in front of me, and when I spotted the ambulance, I waved them down and directed them towards her, shouting, "Evelyn, STOP! Wait! The ambulance is right here!" I think her brain had shut down and she was just on auto pilot at this point.

Dr. Lynn took one look at Dee and agreed that the mare was colicking. She also made the executive decision not to put her in the trailer, since she was still trying to go down every few strides. Instead, they gave her pain meds and a sedative, which seemed to kick in right away. Evelyn's adrenaline was starting to wear off and she was visibly dragging. I urged her to get in the truck and ride down with the vet, but she wouldn't leave Dee. Still, I took the mare's reins and started walking her briskly towards camp. It was the longest mile of my life.

Halfway back, Evelyn broke down. I think it suddenly hit her that this was serious and that her mare was in big trouble. She started to cry and then hyperventilate, and I didn't really know what to do. It had been an emotional roller coaster all day, and my people skills are not always up to par. So I gave Evelyn a big, quick hug. Then I put Dee's reins in my right hand and Evelyn's hand in my left, and I marched forward. Leading horse and rider as midnight passed and a new day started.

We walked for what seemed like hours, and arrived at the treatment vet just in time to see Jeff do his final trot with Dolce. They passed their vetting and got their completion (Jeff's first distance over 50 miles!) Dee, through her drug stupor, called sadly to her stablemate, and my eyes teared up as the full scope of this bittersweet moment hit me.

I turned to look at Dee, stroking her thick forelock out of her eyes. I caught her eye and there was something about her expression that hit me. Despite the sedation and the exhaustion and the pain, Dee looked fierce. I have seen my share of sad endings. I have seen horses that are ready to die, and horses that are dying despite every bit of their energy going to fight to stay alive. This may sound crazy, but there is a look that I have seen in the eyes of every horse that I've sat with when their time comes. I looked into Dee's eyes, and she gazed back through drooping lids.

That look was not there. This mare was not going anywhere. I felt a sudden, overwhelming sense of calm. Then I snapped out of it as everyone set to work.

Dr. Lynn drew blood and her staff ran it on the spot. The results revealed that we were in fact dealing with a colic, not a case of tying up. Amazingly, all of Dee's numbers looked really good. She wasn't dehydrated. She didn't have an electrolyte imbalance. You'd never know from looking at her bloodwork that anything was wrong with this horse. Metabolically, she actually looked really good! This was excellent news, but left us with a bit of a mystery as to why she had actually colicked.

Dr. Lynn hypothesized that the mare was probably tired and worn out from compensating for the poor trail conditions and that weak right hind all day. She was probably at the verge of being overwhelmed when she got crampy in her belly, and with the effort of everything else, even the slightest discomfort was enough to send her over the edge.

Unfortunately, when the techs listened to her gut sounds, there were none to be heard. Radio silence. This was bad news and we knew we had to work against the clock to get her guts moving again, before what probably started as a mild colic turned serious.

We hooked Dee up to an IV catheter and ran 10L of fluids, spiked with CMPK. Then we hand walked her, hoping that she would show some interest in grazing. Jeff had gone to bed after taking care of the dogs and remaining horses. There was a good chance he'd be doing more driving sooner rather than later, and one of us needed to be rested enough to get behind the wheel.

I stayed up with Evelyn, running back and forth to our rig for supplies. Somewhere in there, one of the techs gave me a ride to the finish line, where I'd abandoned all our things.

The next several hours are a blur. I know I walked back and forth about a million times. I lost a few pounds over the weekend. It's good to know that if I don't sleep for 48 hours, shiver for 24, and walk about a billion miles, I can lose two pounds in one weekend. Ha.

Unfortunately, Dee was not interested in eating, even after I made one last trek to the trailer to retrieve Dolce for company. We put the two mares in treatment pens full of grass. Dolce chowed down right away, but Dee looked indifferent. She nibbled half-heartedly and her guts were starting to gurgle here and there, but she wasn't even close to being out of the woods yet.

Around 3am, Dr. Lynn approached Evelyn and told her it was time to make a decision. We basically had two options. One was to continue doing what we were doing, running the bill up and trying to keep Dee stable in camp. It would be the cheaper option, but Dr. Lynn said, "If we treat her here, we all have to stay up." Dr. Lynn and her staff had also been up for nearly 48 hours, treating horses (one of whom didn't make it, I later found out). Everyone was exhausted.

The other option was to hook up our truck and hopefully get the rig out of the mud without the tractor. We would have to take Dee to Tryon, about 45 minutes away. It would probably be a couple thousand dollars to walk through the door. There, they would continue to do what we were doing, but with the option to do more if Dee took a turn for the worse. The benefit would be that the Tryon staff could monitor her, and the rest of us could sleep.

Basically, the option was save money or go to sleep.

I chimed in, "If we just had somewhere warm to sit, like a truck, I think it would be much better. I don't mind staying up, but I can't take the cold any more." By this point, Evelyn had grabbed a tablecloth and was wrapped in it. I had been shivering for so long that I didn't even notice my teeth chattering loudly against each other any more.

In the end, we decided to stay put. Dee was stable, and very slowly showing hints of possibly thinking about improving. If we could just get her to graze, it would be a very good sign.

We ran another 10L of fluids, with more CMPK mixed in. Then we put Dee back in the pen next to Dolce and waited. After some more hinting on my part, we were able to borrow one of the staff's trucks, running the engine long enough to get the cabin heated.

I must have dozed off for a few minutes, because I startled awake to the sound of someone knocking on the window. For a moment, I had no idea where I was or how I'd gotten there, but then reality came flooding back in. There was another horse who needed treatment, and they had to take the truck.

Evelyn and I walked stiffly over to the big white tent where the ride meeting had been held, and sat down  under a pile of dirty horse blankets. Shortly, Cheryl approached with a steaming hot pot of mac and cheese. I professed my undying love to her as she ladled some into a bowl for me. I have never tasted anything more delicious.

Still, we shivered. I had pulled my arms inside of my previously brand new jacket, and tucked me head inside the smelly wool blanket I'd been wrapped in for the past hour. I think it's safe to say my jacket was well broken in by this point. I was still frozen, but the most violent of the shivering had ceased. Somehow, I managed to fall asleep at about 4:30am, doubled over in a hard plastic chair. (In case I haven't mentioned it yet, this was my vacation from the stresses of my day-to-day life. Vacation. Ha.)

At 5am, I started away again. Dr. Lynn had joyfully exclaimed, "She's eating!!!'

Dee had finally turned a corner. Her gut sounds were slowly rumbling back to life and she was hungrily grabbing at the grass in her pen. Dr. Lynn told us to go back to our trailer and get some sleep. We were to come back at 7am to check on Dee.

I don't really remember the walk back to the trailer. I do remember thinking, "Left foot, right foot," as I pulled my muck boots through the thick clay, leaning forward at an awkward angle and losing the fight to keep my bleary eyes open.

I fell into my bed face down with all my sopping wet layers still on.

When I came to, it was 8am and the sun was out, blazing like nothing had ever happened, like she hadn't abandoned us for two days when we needed her most. Evelyn was back in the trailer and she was cheerful again. Dee had pulled through the night. She was eating and passing manure and looking like herself again. The danger has passed. Dr. Lynn said that if we waited a few more hours, she'd be cleared to ship home. I was skeptical, knowing what a long drive we had, but relieved that the worst of it was over.

We made quick work of our ride camp, taking fences down, feeding and grazing hungry horses, and packing all of our things. Jeff wandered up to collect his completion award, and I offered to take the dogs for one last walk. The movement would be good for my sore muscles.

Somewhere in there, I got to take a hot shower in the LQ. I soaked a weekend's worth of filth off my skin and hair, but even so, I wasn't quite warm.

Around 11am, the tractor came around to pull our rig out of the mud. I did not get a picture of our rig getting pulled out, but I did get some of the tractor at work earlier during the weekend.

We walked Dart and Rella up to the treatment area, where Evelyn squared her bill away and we all thanked the vet profusely. We loaded the horses up and started the extra long trip home.

I snapped some pictures of the estate as we made our way towards the exit. Then I settled down with Dagan happily camped in my lap and finally got warm and fell asleep. I didn't wake up again until we were almost out of Tennessee.

The weather was laughing at me. I could hear it.

The drive home was mostly uneventful. We made more stops on the way up than we had on the way down, mostly to make sure Dee was doing ok. We did get stuck in a good amount of traffic in Virginia. We had gotten cut off by this little silver car who was in an awful hurry to get wherever he was going. After we sat through all the traffic, guess who we found out was the cause of it!

I present to you, a picture of Karma in action.

Along the way, I read my book, napped some more, and cuddled Dagan, who didn't leave my side the whole time. We stopped at Bo Jangles, which was a first for me. Jeff did all the driving again, though I suspect it was easier in the daylight.

We stopped at a rest area in Virginia just as the sun was going down. There, we dropped the windows in the trailer and let the horses rest. We fed them a soaking wet mash, and I was relieved to see that Dee's appetite had been restored. Everyone looked perky and bright-eyed. Phew!

Goodnight, Virginia.

As darkness fell on another long day, I found myself wide awake again. Jeff and I chatted as the miles passed. We made one last stop to empty the trailer tank at Cabela's. Then we finished winding our way through Pennsylvania and finally crossed back into our home state.

It was 3:30am by the time we pulled back into Jeff and Evelyn's driveway. They offered to let me stay on their couch that night, but I was determined to get home to my bed, husband, and dogs. I had cleared my schedule for Monday so I could finally rest. I felt pretty good as I loaded my things back into my little, red car, but just to be safe, I drank a bottle of water and didn't go to the bathroom before hitting the road. Nothing like a full bladder to keep you awake while you're driving.

With no traffic on the road, I made good time on the way back. The songs on the radio left me in deep thought as I processed the weekend's events. I think there's a reason most people don't do endurance riding, and I'm starting to think you have to be a little crazy to stick it out, but I still love this sport, even when it's not going well.

I pulled into my driveway just shy of 5am. Julio gave one confused woof from under the blankets, and Mike opened a sleepy eye as I slid into bed and his outstretched arms. I don't think I even stirred when his alarm went off half an hour later and we went back to the daily grind...

(It has been a week and a half since the ride and everyone is fully recovered. Dee and Dolce are still resting after their journey, but Dart and Rella are back to conditioning. This story has a happy ending, but it was definitely the most stressful time I've had at a ride to date. I'm glad that Dee pulled through, and am devastated that another horse did not. It's a tough sport, but I love it, and I really, truly believe the horses do too.)