Moonlight in Vermont 2019

Vermont is one of my favorite rides... to crew, to ride, to see posts about online. When our season got rolling, I really hoped Moonlight would be on the list, and I was not disappointed. We went back and forth on which horses and riders would be participating in this particular ride. In the end, Bryn rode Warren, I rode Tina, and Cam rode Allie. Mike, Jen, Paul, Carla, and Carla's son (Cam's brother), Logan crewed.



The forecast for the weekend was absolutely brutal. Once again, going away to New England in July did not provide the respite from the heat that I had hoped for. Instead, we were promised record breaking temperatures and a real feel well into the triple digits. The good news about the Moonlight ride is that the second half of it is in the dark. The bad news is that the start for the 50 wouldn't be until 2pm. This meant a whole day of roasting in the sun in base camp before heading out onto a tough fifty mile course in the peak heat of the day. Oof.

Originally, we were supposed to bring the dogs with us because Marissa wasn't available for the weekend and I'm super picky about who I trust with their care. With the intense forecast and the fact that all the holds would be away, Mike and I were both really worried about juggling Herbie and Julio along with the horse care.

I was giving Sam a lesson on Tinsel when this fact came up. Sam immediately jumped in with, "Why don't you let me watch them?"

I don't know why it never occurred to me to ask any of my students to watch the dogs! The solution was brilliant. I trust Sam completely. She is diligent, detail oriented, and takes animal care very seriously. Plus she has experience both with large and dog-aggressive dogs, and she's a horse person. Why does that last part matter? Well, if you can hold a thousand pound animal on a lunge line, my big black pibble should be no problem, even on the 40' leash we have him on at home.

I was deeply relieved to be able to leave the dogs at home. Sure, I missed them, but I would have been fretting non-stop about their well-being at this ride if they'd been with us. They were sad-eyed and mopey when we left without them, but I guarantee they were much happier at home in the AC. (We were lucky and were not affected by the rolling black outs the state experienced last weekend.)

Mike stepped out of work one day last week and finally caved on buying a generator to run the air in Reginald too. "We're going to Home Depot," he declared after a few short minutes in the savage sun. A thousand dollars later (ouch) we thought we were set up for a climate controlled hideaway in camp. This will become significant later.

The horses were set to arrive after dark (no need to make them hang out in the sun any longer than necessary) so Mike and I took our time hitting the road on Friday. We left just after noon, hitting up the local Quick Chek for gas and sandwiches. As always, we opted out of Connecticut and took the NY Thruway to Mass Pike to 91N into Vermont. I knew we were close to the Bare Bones ride we just did in May, but it wasn't until I looked at the map at home that I realized just how close we really were!

We arrived in camp after dinner and the ride meeting, but that wasn't a big deal. Pam had huge cork boards up in front of the check-in trailer with all the pertinent information posted on them. I got trail order, hold information, and crew directions quickly. Now I just needed to find out where ride management wanted us to park the big rig. In the mean time, we had to put Reginald somewhere.

As luck would have it, I quickly spotted a group of our friends nearby, and there was an opening right by them. Kristin would be running the 100 miler (yes, on foot) the following day. Liz and Dan were both entered in the 100 mile ride. Sam was crewing for them. It was great to catch up with everyone!

Just as I was chatting with Geneva, I got the sudden feeling that Pam was nearby, and I whirled around just in time to spot her coming around the treatment barn. I rushed over to see where she wanted the Freightliner to go when it arrived. Our timing was pretty good and we got done talking to Pam, the ride manager, just as Carla's van appeared on the road to camp. We flagged her down and we parked our rigs next to each other on a nice level spot with easy access to the road, hose, and treatment barn. Perfect!

A short while later, Bryn and Cam arrived in the Dodge, and everyone was bubbly and chatty and happy to see each other.

The evening passed quietly and we all hung out, chatting, drinking, and laughing in the shade. The weather that day hadn't been terrible and it was nice to be out in bearable temperatures after a whole week of slaving away outdoors at home.

There was a pretty good turn out despite the head advisory.

Originally, the horses were supposed to arrive shortly after dark, but there were some delays and the ETA got incrementally pushed back to midnight-ish. We all tried to stay up, but it wasn't long before our eyelids grew heavy and we decided to crawl into our respective sleeping quarters.

Once again, my spidey senses were tingling. I woke up just before one o'clock and glanced out the trailer window just as a pair of headlights appeared over the hill, with the tell tale rumble of a big engine to accompany them.

"They're here," I whispered as I jostled Mike awake and fumbled for my glasses and slippers.

Warren, Tina, and Allie unloaded without a fuss (though Tina did try to wake all of camp by whinnying to all the other horses with her high-pitched girl voice). It didn't take long to set up the hi-ties, pen, water, and hay, and we all said our goodnights. "See you very, very soon," I laughed, knowing that we had a 7am vet-in.

As is becoming the new norm in camp (since we got Reginald) I slept really well that night. In fact, I could have gone right on sleeping for a few hours if my alarm hadn't gone off when it did. I dressed in a pair of shorts and a tank top, then joined Jen and company at Jo's trailer to check in. We were given passes for crew vehicles, ride cards, and meal tickets for all. Then we wandered down to the bottom of the hill, where Dr. Kelly was assembling her volunteers behind the big white tent. We were not the only ones who still had to vet!

Not a bad sunrise!

Tina pulsed in at 40bpm even though she'd just spooked at a big sign and was calling for her friends. She scored A's and +'s across the board and got a perfect 5 for body condition. She jogged like a much more seasoned horse than she is and was sweet and friendly with the vet. Because of the extreme heat predicted for this ride, they also took note of the horses' temps at the start (and any time anybody's pulse lingered over the course of the day).

Once we had gotten all three horses settled back at the trailer, the waiting game began. I had an iced coffee tucked away in one of our coolers, and Mike offered it to me. I declined. I was still pretty sleepy and figured I would take a nap and have my coffee later in the day.

Mike had hooked the new AC unit up and turned it on, and we crawled into the trailer to nap. I woke up a short time later to Mike tossing and turning because he was too hot. I was comfortable, but when I came to I realized that it was warmer in the trailer than it should have been with the air on. I flipped around and put my face directly under the vent and managed to fall asleep for a little while longer. When I awoke, the air hitting my face was decidedly not cold.

Hmmm...

The AC did not appear to be working, but that was about to become the least of my problems.

While Mike played with the remote, checked the display, and read the manual, I took a more tactile approach. The tubes that run from the unit to the trailer are long and not insulated. I thought that maybe the air was getting heated as it passed through the blazing hot sun, out in the wide open. I unhooked the far end of the tube from the trailer and placed my hand in front of it. Warm. Then I took the tube off the unit and put my hand in front of the opening. Warm.

Then... then I fucked up. I fucked up really bad, you guys.

For some reason, I thought it would be a good idea to put my hand in the hole and see if the air in the unit was cold. There was a loud buzz and a fine red mist filled the air.

You see, the thing that makes the air blow out of the unit is a big, fat industrial fan, and I had stuck my fingers directly in it. Now, I'm not sure what I expected, but there are usually safety grates and/or warning labels on things like this to prevent idiots like yours truly from losing any digits.

My brain immediately yanked my hand back out of the hole and there was an alarming amount of blood. I think I yelped when it happened and Mike was at my side right away. It was definitely a deep cut and I could see bits of skin hanging, but I couldn't really tell how bad it was. Thankfully, the fan runs perpendicular to the opening and is plastic-coated. Otherwise, I probably would have lost the top half of my finger. Instead, I basically scalped the middle one and clipped the nail on the ring finger.

Now, I hurt myself on a regular basis. I am clumsy and often not-very-bright. I've broken bones and had soft tissue injuries. I am not a pansy about pain. However, I'd never seriously cut myself before, and I'm not great about the heat to begin with. My body basically went into shock instantly. Mike says my lips were completely white.

By this point, I had a towel wrapped tightly around the injured finger and was elevating it above my head. I also had ice that I was alternately using to numb the hand and cool myself so I wouldn't vomit. I was shaking and nauseated. The whole nine yards.

As I rolled around on the ground, groaning and trying not to cry, one of the photographers walked by and asked Mike, "Is she ok?" Mike was standing there looking at me like the moron I am. He says he was waiting to see how bad it was before he panicked. He replied, "Yeah, she just cut her finger." The photographer kept looking back and forth between us. Either Mike was not reacting enough or I was being super dramatic, and I don't think he was sure which was the truth.

Mike managed to get me in the car and crank the AC so at least I didn't feel like vomiting. Then he ran over to Jen's trailer and woke her up. Jen is a trauma nurse, and has all sorts of fun first aid stuff on her at all times. Mike ushered me over to the trailer so Jen could patch me up.

By the time I got up there, both of my hands had gone numb (really, body?) and I was trying to crack jokes around the tears in my eyes. I was also apologizing for waking Jen and for being a dumbass. Jen cleaned me up while I shivered violently. Then she put a non-stick dressing on the wound and wrapped it in gauze and vet wrap.

"Can you still ride?" she asked.
"Oh yeah... it's not that bad. I'll just cram it in my glove and try to keep the hand dry."

Needless to say, my hand was throbbing for a good part of the day after that. Fun fact, we turned the air on yesterday to see if it ran cold (spoiler: it didn't) and a chunk of my flesh came flying out of the vent. Gross.

The biggest bummer about cutting myself and having to keep the hand dry was that I wasn't going to be able to go swimming in the pond in camp! I was a little skeptical of the crawdads to begin with, but now it wasn't even an option. As the day got hotter and hotter, this became more and more of a let down. It certainly looked refreshing.

Around noon, I started to get truly hungry. I decided it would probably be best to fill up on food before the start. That way, it wouldn't be a big deal if the heat prevented me from wanting to eat during the actual ride. We hopped in the Rav with Carla and Bryn and headed down to the country store in town. Bryn and I bought a big chunk of sharp cheddar and took bites out of it while we waited for our food. Mike and I split a delicious roast beef and horseradish sandwich and some awesome broccoli salad.

By the time we got back to camp, it was time to start tacking up. I reluctantly pulled my riding tights on over my sweaty legs, putting my helmet off until the last possible second. I seriously contemplated riding in shorts since the saddle has a fleece seat saver, but I decided it wasn't worth the possible rubs. It's a shame I'm so strict about helmet use because it was really disgustingly hot in there. 

Bryn helped me get Tina situated. I was moving slow with my injured dominant hand. Plus, I'd just gotten new saddle bags* and was making sure they sat well with the saddle.

*I've been using the SnugPax saddle bags my parents got me for Christmas several years ago and I love them. Mine are getting pretty faded and the zippers are starting to stick a bit. Sadly for me, SnugPax is no longer in business and I really struggled to find a comparable replacement. In the end, I went with the Easy Care Stowaway pommel bags in a nice, neutral black. The price was right and I liked the water bottle holders. When I looked online, I was afraid they would be too bulky, but when they arrived, I was pleasantly surprised. While there is a ton more storage space and a lot more compartments (which makes the OCD part of my brain really happy), they weren't any heavier (empty) than my old bags. Plus they're water resistant and have a lot of straps for mounting so they don't flop around on the horse. After Vermont, I can safely say that I recommend these bags.

Just before 2pm, we were mounted up and heading down to the big, white tent for check in. At 2pm, the trail opened and we headed down Silver Hill Rd. and into the woods. 

Cam put pink and purple in Allie's mane and tail <3

Not sure what my face is doing here.
Tina got her Barbie horse locks hacked off before the start.

The first loop was 21 miles with a 15 minute gate 'n' go back in camp at ~13 miles. The trail alternated between local gravel roads and beautiful winding single track in the woods. There were some hot, sunny patches, but for the most part we were in the shade, where the temperatures were much cooler. Occasionally, we even got a delightful breeze. It was honestly better out on trail than it had been baking back in camp.

The first 13 miles took us through some gorgeous country side with breathtaking views. We also rode through Rojek's Smoke Rise Farm, where Rayzer tried to roll in the pond with me eight years ago. Honestly, I could die happy living at any one of these properties. What an outstanding part of the country!

We also did a significant amount of descending in the first loop. It felt like we were going down, down, down for ages. I've gotten really spoiled riding Lunar this year. He is a down hill machine and is fast and sure footed in a way that makes me expand my comfort zone every time I ride him. Tina, while honest as the day is long, hasn't quite gotten the idea of flying nimbly down hill just yet, and I was helping her balance for a lot of the descents.

(The real feel at this point, for those keeping track, was 96℉.)

We would ride through these trees later, when the light was golden and perfect.

At Smoke Rise.

Unfortunately, we did not get through the first 13 miles without way more excitement than any of us had bargained for.

We were cantering down a stretch of windy single track when I heard a crash and a yelp behind me. Cam had stepped right on the last turn and her saddle had slipped, which wouldn't have been a big problem except that the breast collar broke and she was now hanging off of Allie's side. The little mare tried really hard to get back under her kid, and in the process she also fell. They were both falling towards me, which Tina didn't really appreciate. I tried to simultaneously pull my horse up and make a grab for Cam. I just barely missed scruffing her, and I was horrified to watch her land chin-first on a rock. She's a tough kid but it was a hard fall and she immediately started to scream and cry. She must have been terrified. 

I was off of Tina before we'd come to a full halt. Allie took off, but we were only about two miles from camp and she was sure to appear there shortly. (Unlike one of the 75 miler horses who parted company with its rider and spent a large part of the day playing "catch me if you can" with ride management.) I groaned when I thought about our poor crew seeing the pink-maned horse appear in the hold, riderless, but I didn't have enough reception to send a warning text. 

"Don't move yet. Just breathe!!" I instructed Cam as I rushed over to her. Just then, I heard thundering hooves behind me and whirled around just in time to see Allie appear, wide-eyed and visibly shaken, beside me. The little mare had gone a little ways down the trail before doing a one-eighty and coming back!!! Good girl! Her face said, "I need an adult! I dropped my kid. You're not supposed to drop the kid."

I grabbed Allie while Bryn came over and took care of Cam. She was shaken and her chin was bleeding, but she was ok. "You'll have a hell of a story to tell," I pep talked her and gave her a hug. By that point, I was holding all three horses while Bryn fixed Allie's tack. Needless to say, she was going to need a shorter girth when we got back to camp. I think Cam is going to be triple checking her girth for the rest of time. Talk about learning a lesson the hard way!!

In a few minutes, Cam was remounted on a very still and quiet Allie. We took it easy for about half a mile before picking the pace back up. I have to hand it to Cam. She took a nasty spill and got right back on and kept going. Kids are so bouncy, man. I think if I'd fallen like that, I would have needed a stretcher. It didn't take long for Cam to bounce back mentally either. She was joking about it by the next loop.

Before long, we popped out of the woods on the big hill behind camp.

Photo by Heather who was riding behind us.

It's like Where's Waldo, but with Reginald. I spy... my husband!

Photo by Mike.

Our crew met us at the bottom with sponges in hand. Mike asked how it was going and I must have made a face. "Are you ok?" he asked. 

"Yes."
"Is Tina ok?" I nodded. "How's Cam doing?" I must have pulled another face. Mike glanced over at Cam. "Is that blood?" he whispered.
"We... erm... had some excitement..."

We got the horses cooled and electrolyted at the trailer before heading down to the timer to start our 15 minute hold. There was no vetting or pulse requirements, and we just let the horses drink and graze. Allie got her girth swapped out too.

Mike rinsing Allie's mouth. She is super amused.

Fifteen minutes flew by and we were mounted and heading back into the woods. 

It was only eight miles from there to the first formal hold at Tuacknback. 

I put Tina in the back for a little bit. That's when Libby caught up to us. For some reason, even though there had been horses behind her all day, Tina decided that she was afraid of Libby's horse. She was basically flailing around at the canter until I tucked her back in front of Allie. Eventually, Libby passed and Tina settled back down. It was interesting to ride her at this event. She definitely got braver as the day went on and gradually started to lead more and more often. I've always loved that about this ride... it seems to really mature the horses in a short span of time. 

This loop featured some road riding with views of Mount Ascutney. Then we climbed up, up, up this beautiful hay field with lovely views. 

Happy ears despite the heat.

From there, it was just a brief trot up Spear Cemetery Rd. to the hold. Sadly, I wasn't enjoying much of the scenery at this point. I had developed a pounding headache over the course of the last four hours. I had been drinking a ton of water, thinking it was probably because of the heat and dehydration. Still, I couldn't shake it. I was really looking forward to getting to the hold, taking my helmet off, and downing some Advil. 

We arrived at the hold at 6pm. We stripped tack and iced the horses. Ten minutes later, we were at the vet, where Tina pulsed at 52. She got A's and +'s, with an A- for gait (she wasn't being very enthusiastic, and I don't blame her). 

The hold was 45 minutes and our crew was awesome. Mary had expressed concern about the fact that I wasn't sporting my usual ear-to-ear grin, and Mike told her I had a headache. I ate some Advil and borrowed a cooling towel, which I draped over my neck and eyes, and which helped immensely with my headache. 

This is also the hold where I briefly spotted Hannah from Bully&Blaze. We'd been hoping to meet in person after years of online friendship, but they were busy crewing for Jeanette so we only waved at each other from across the field. 

While I tried to keep my hand dry and my head cool, our crew was busting out glow sticks and head lamps. Mike had accidentally left our electronics bag in the trailer, but Jen had a spare headlamp for me to use (and it actually was an awesome headlamp that had a separate button for the red light!) It would be 15 miles to the next hold at O&H and it would almost definitely be dark by the time we arrived there.

I was feeling pretty good by the time I mounted back up, but the feeling wouldn't last. My headache was back with a vengeance within minutes of my helmet being back on  my head.

I love the iconic barn at Tuacknback.

The loop from Tuacknback to O&H was both brutal and beautiful. It took us three and a half hours to navigate the mileage (which, according to my watch was over 16 miles). Despite the fact that the sun was starting to sink, the temperatures were still in the mid 90's. 

The horses felt good, though, and I never had to ask Tina for anything. She just kept gamely picking up the trot any time Warren went ahead. Periodically, she would decide that she was tired of being behind him and would offer to lead, which I always encouraged. In fact, she started to lead for longer and longer stretches at a time.

The locals at this ride were awesome. So many of them put out water buckets and hoses for the horses, and I dismounted often to spray all three critters down with icy cold water. I think this ride really could have been unbearable without these pit stops, but the horses were doing well. There was one house that even had a Tupperware full of homemade peanut butter cookies. Let me tell you how much I loved that! (Everything your parents teach you as a child goes right out the window in endurance riding. Don't take food from strangers? Pshhh! I will eat just about anything out of a container on the side of the road at a ride. Haha.)

On this particular loop, we rode past a lot of really gorgeous properties, too. I was drooling for sure!

This is also where we started to catch up to the runners, an experience that is unique in a way I can't describe. I slowly figured out that the right thing to say to them as you pass is simply, "Good job!" We had a few moments when we would ride alongside one runner for a period of time, and I think it really gave a lot of them a mood boost when we did. Often, they asked questions about the horses.

"You guys don't have head lamps?"
"We do, they're just not on. The horses see better without them."

The runner aid stations were awesome too. I can only imagine how much support it takes to get through 100 miles on foot, but the people at the aid stations were high energy, warm, and welcoming. The cheers were hearty and plentiful, which is always a nice feeling. Whether you were running or riding, you got a mood boost from the volunteers. They also had gummy bears and other snacks for the humans, and carrots for the horses.

Tina was basically like, "I like you. You give me treats and face rubs and don't ride me for fifty miles like some people." 

We did see our crew once at one of the pit crew stops, and the horses were positively famished by then. Tina gobbled down an entire pan of feed and was actively looking for more. Thankfully, they'd all been drinking really well all day, and this stop was no exception. Tina was guzzling water every chance she got, and I was really pleased with how well she was taking care of herself. We missed our crew the next time around because they were in town getting ice for Claire, but the horses were going spectacularly and we didn't miss them.

On this loop, we also passed the ride photographer. I saw the sign, but didn't actually spot the photographer who was laying in the grass on the left until after we'd gotten our picture taken. As a result of that (and my ever-present headache) I have some serious game face while Tina basically spooks at the photographer.

Photo by Spectrum Photography.

Soon we reached that golden hour when the magic really begins. As warm, sticky rays of the setting sun slanted across fields of Queen Anne's Lace and Black-eyed Susans, I took a deep breath and smiled. This ride was tough, no doubt, but there's a beauty to pushing yourself like this, and even with a splitting in my head and a throbbing in my bandaged hand, I couldn't deny it.

The sun sank quietly that night, without much fanfare or color, but we were overlooking the most pristine horse farm when it happened, and as I watched a young horse excitedly tearing around the front pasture, calling to the passing endurance horses, I sighed deeply, looking forward to the moonlight portion of the ride.

The trees I mentioned earlier. The light coming through here was ethereal. 

A whole slew of us gathering at the big trough at the top of the hill at Rojek's.

Check out this barn. OMG.

Next thing I knew, darkness had fallen suddenly and completely. All three of these horses were competing in the dark for the first time. This was only Tina's third 50 mile attempt, and it was proving to be a real test of the little mare's grit. The learning curve was a steep one. She came through with flying colors. She's all heart and I love her.

This was also Cam's first time competing in the dark. "Dom, can I ride next to you?" she asked with a timidness that is out of character for her.  "I'm a little afraid of the dark." Then, some miles later, I heard her proudly exclaim, "I did it! I conquered my fear! I cantered in the dark!" She's such a tough and talented kid that I sometimes forget that she just turned twelve. She is going to be a force to be reckoned with. 

Convincing Cam to turn her headlamp off was another thing entirely. We did tell her that a white light behind other horses wouldn't go over well in different company, but Bryn and I let her keep it on while it was just us. At first, Tina wasn't a big fan of the shadows being cast by the light behind her, but she got over it pretty quickly. She also got used to the bobbing lights of the runners around us as well as the reflections of guard rails in the dark. I was absolutely blown away when Tina continued to lead well into the night. She was being bold, forward, and reliable, and we jokingly chanted, "Go Tina, go Tina, go Tina!" as we rode.

After what felt like an eternity, we finally turned off the main track and followed red glow sticks through the woods into the hold at O&H, which gleamed like an oasis below us. By this point, I thought my bladder was going to burst. I'd had to pee for several miles, but had put it off, thinking we didn't have much further to go. The jostling, sloshing motion of the trot hadn't helped things.

We stripped tack and I was surprised to feel that Tina seemed to be down already. We iced the horses for a few minutes anyway before going down to the brightly lit indoor to vet. At 10:20pm, Tina pulsed in at 52bpm, and we did a very wiggly trot out under the lights. (I'm not sure she's ever been in and indoor before, and her eyes were wide as she took it all in.) Everybody passed the vetting and I handed my horse off to Mike while I went to pee.

On my way back out of the porta potty, I spotted a table with hot coffee on it, and I had an epiphany. 

The reason I'd had a headache all day was because I was so busy cutting my  hand off that I completely forgot to drink my iced coffee that morning. I was having caffeine withdrawal! I chugged a cup of coffee and my headache was gone five minutes later. I think Bryn was going to throttle me.

"I could have really used your energy on the last loop," she poked at me.

Whoops.

It was a half hour hold, which meant we tacked back up pretty much as soon as we were done with vetting. Tina gave me this look that said, "Are you seriously putting that saddle back on me again?"

At 10:50pm we headed out on the last loop, which was supposed to be 12 miles (but which I remembered running short in the past). The last loop consisted largely of gravel roads, and we were being passed by crew vehicles for a lot of it, which meant the visibility was generally better than, let's say, the pitch blackness of OD. 

It took us three hours to do this last ten-ish miles. We were still trotting a fair amount, but were taking frequent walk breaks to keep the horses happy. Bryn suggested I tell ghost stories again, like we did at OD, but I decided to spare Cam. 

We came through another brightly lit runner aid station where the horses drank deeply, and I heard a rumor about it only being eight miles from there. My phone had died so I couldn't take any more pictures.

When we got to Polly's, the final pit crew stop for the day, I knew we only had six miles to go. There, Jen met us, and I found out that Mike, Carla, and Logan had gotten separated and had gone straight back to camp. That actually worked out because there was a lovely woman who offered to sponge Tina for me. Tina was loving all over her and the woman giggled with glee, then said, "I actually have a terrible fear of horses."
"Really? You're not acting like it!"

"I'm definitely working through it today!" she declared. Tina was definitely the right horse to help with that. She's such a sweet, snuggly girl.

It was in that last stretch between Polly's and the finish that I started to feel like Tina was off in the front. At first I thought it was in my head. I always convince myself my horse is lame if I think about it too hard. Eventually, though, it became pretty clear that Tina was head bobbing a bit every time we'd pick up the trot after a long walk break. She would work out of it, but it was definitely there and I came to terms with the fact that I was probably going to get pulled at the finish. She felt eager and forward and wasn't complaining at all, so I just kept my concerns to myself. We were going slowly enough that I wasn't worried about the last three miles or so. 

Soon we turned off the hard packed road and into the woods. As soon as we were on softer footing, Tina felt sound to me. Maybe she was just fatigued from a long day of pounding up and down gravel road. We'd soon find out.

The last two miles of the ride were a bit of a tease. We came within sight of camp and could hear the cheering at the finish line, only to turn left and head away from the lights again. We basically went all the way around camp before finally heading in. Thankfully, there were little signs posted periodically, counting down the mileage. 

With about a mile to go we came to a beautiful clearing on the hillside, and I told Cam, "If you turn off your headlamp here, you'll really get the beauty of riding in the dark. Trust me." Obediently Cam clicked off her light, and then breathed, "Oh woooowwww...."

The nearly-full moon shone above, illuminating a stunning scene around us. Long waves of grass gleamed silver in the moonlight, and below the waters of a small lake rippled and glistened. The glow sticks lit the way and the gray horses' rumps glowed in the dark, while Warren cast an elegant silhouette against the background. We rode in silence, taking in the beauty around us.

At the far end of the clearing, we ducked back into the woods, and I knew we were approaching the finish. The glow sticks switched from being hung on the trees to floating in water jugs along each side of the trail, illuminating a runway to the end of the journey. 

Moments later, we emerged from the dark and into camp. "They're here, they're here!" someone called out, and the in-timer shouted, "Numbers please!" and then, "Finish time, 1:17." 

Like I said, my phone was dead so I took these from Heather.

I got a little misty-eyed and took a deep breath as I prepared for the vetting ahead. I dismounted and checked Tina's shoes for stones, then ran my hands down her legs, which showed no sign of heat, swelling, or cuts.

"Is she ok?" Jen asked, catching the fact that I was concerned.

"I don't know. She took some pretty awful steps out there, but I think she might just be tired."

We did some sponging, though I don't think any of the horses really needed it. Even at almost 1:30am, the temperature hovered around 80℉ with something like 88% humidity. It was unreal. Then we walked over for the moment of truth. Tina pulsed in at 52 again, and I trotted her down and back, holding my breath all the way. I glanced at Mike's face for traces of concern or disappointment, but saw nothing. Tina, who had seemed tired a few minutes earlier, was suddenly transformed into a wild, prancing beast, and she was downright pushy at the vetting. I think she knew she was back and she wanted to be done. To my utter delight, she got an A on both impulsion and gait. She didn't look lame at all! In fact, she scored A's across the board, with just one comment about gut sounds in one quadrant (but she was eating everything in sight, so I wasn't at all concerned.)

Jen's group did it again... three for three completions at one of the toughest 50's I think I've done to date. I was on cloud nine!

We got the horses put away, and crawled into the trailer around 2am. I was asleep in no time and I don't think I even rolled over during the night.

We woke up the following morning just in time to see the rig pulling out of camp. Jen and Paul wanted to get the horses home before the day got super hot. My saddle bags were still on the saddle, but it's not like I need them at home. It wasn't until we got home later that I realized I didn't have my helmet either. That struck me as odd since I consciously remembered picking it up off the ground, flicking the red light off, and tossing it on top of my snack bag in the Rav. It's rare that I remember doing little things like that so I was puzzled. Luckily, we located the helmet pretty quickly. Turns out Carla had grabbed it by mistake while she was helping Mike get the car cleaned out. She found Cam's helmet in the trailer later during the week and texted me to let me know she has mine. I have a spare anyway so it's not a big deal.

Sunday morning we stuck around for awards. Out of 24 starters in the 50, there were only three pulls. Two of them were rider option and one was lameness. The completion rate in the longer distances wasn't as impressive, but there wasn't a single horse in the treatment barn that morning. The conditions were undeniably brutal that weekend, but everyone did such a good job making smart choices and managing their horses. It's really a testament to the spirit of endurance, and I was thrilled to be a part of it. Plus, now I have a gorgeous mug by Starfire Design Studio to add to my collection.

After awards, we wandered down to the big tent for the Sunday morning BBQ. As usual, I thought it would be a good idea to eat "breakfast" first and then get ice cream from the ice cream truck, and as usual, I was too stuffed after eating to actually get ice cream. One of these years I'll get it right.

Breakfast of champions.

We headed out just as they started the ceremony for the runners. Before we left, we got updates on our friends. It turns out Kristen had finished about an hour earlier! There had been some drama in the process. A volunteer had mistakenly taken her number down as a pull, and had told her crew that she was with the medics. Her first pacer stuck around for a long time after that, and threw in the towel fifteen minutes before Kristen arrived at that check point. She was assigned a random pacer, and then her mom ran the last twelve miles with her!!! I can't imagine how tough it must have been to come in and find that your support system had been erroneously sent home! Dan had gotten 90 miles in on his ride and was pulled over time, which is heartbreaking in so many ways (he's been chasing the 100 mile dream unsuccessfully for quite some time now, and to get so close on a horse with plenty of gas left in the tank had to be devastating). Liz had also gotten pulled. Like I said, it was a tough weekend.

Not long after we ate, we hit the road home. I was looking forward to getting back to my dogs (and to air conditioning). The drive home was blissfully uneventful, and I spent the week reflecting and putting together media, statistics, etc. 

We did over 7,000 feet of climbing at this ride, which is comparable to the OD 50. There wasn't the same dramatic climb that you get at OD, but you were almost constantly going either up or down, and it really added up. This ride is a lot more technical than it seems when you're doing it, and the stats surprised me.

That's a nice looking ride card!!! This was Tina's second 50 mile completion and I'm so proud of her.

I am so thankful for this season and the opportunity to sit on such nice horses. I am soaking it all in. Stay tuned...