Ned and I headed off to Biltmore by way of a stop in Canfield, Ohio (near Youngstown) to pick up my distance riding pal and crew, Randi. Hit dinner and a Cosmo, and overnighted there, before making the trek from OH to NC on Wednesday.
We arrived about 7 p.m. at the Estate, passing under the arch and being welcomed by the guard. “Welcome, Ms. Stedman, to the Biltmore Estate.” Wow.
Curved our way through the grounds (lots of gasps as we viewed the buildings and grounds and stone bridges) to the camp and set up. Drank some more and hit the sack.
Thursday was vet check set up day. It was cool and overcast and the forecast called for more of the same, so we opted OUT of the tent as I think of them as items for shade (and we wouldn’t need that) and well, if it rained, we’d just duck into someone else’s tent. I am a positively anal person when it comes to setting up the stuff for my hold, with lists and Rubbermaid containers and items prepped and ready and back ups of almost everything. Feed and people food and drinks and water and people drugs and flashlights and changes of clothes and oodles of other stuff I “might” need. I hate to be flustered or looking for something at a hold.
I gave Randi the list of things I’d need her to help me with, in order, and she made a little check list, bless her soul. And damn, was she good!
We headed out for Mexican on Thursday night with a bunch of other riders and crew folks and laughed and laughed and laughed. I love endurance folks! It started pouring as we were getting our check so we boogied back to camp and covered Ned and coddled him by bringing him under the trailer awning. Finally put him back in his pen wearing a wool dress sheet with a rain sheet over it as it was down to a drizzle. He might not be happy but at least he was relatively warm and dry.
On Friday got registered and vetted, and Flowersmom and her daughter Lizzie came for a visit, and eventually set up all of my stuff in our crewing area, attended the ride briefing, and called it a night.
Tacked up in a drizzle at 5 a.m. and hit the trail at 6 with the other 58 riders in the 100, starting at a brisk trot. I ended up riding the entire loop with Bob, one of the Canadian FEI riders who was trying hard to rate his horse but who was also hoping to finish up by about 10 pm. I was shooting for 12-1 am so I knew our riding partnership would be short lived. AERC kept our ride cards for a research study for this ride, but we finished up the 15 mile loop in 1.5 hours, a 10 mph pace when I’m a 7-8 mph kind of girl.
The trails were pretty muddy but workable at that point, and Ned was full of himself, swapping leads and occasionally bucking. We did stop for grass a few times and he came into the hold already at pulse, and as I recall his CRI was 52/44, so clearly not TOO fast. B+ on gut sounds, so I knew he needed to chow and I needed to change shirts as I was already soaked to the skin and getting cold.
Bob was a minute ahead of me and I told him to go on. Ned needed to start doing Ned’s ride, and while I wasn’t opposed to going a bit faster, I knew we weren’t up for FEI pace in the mud.
Ned was being pulled along by some horses ahead so I pulled him up and got him doing his own thing, so we ended up doing the second loop right on schedule at about 7-8 mph. 18.8 miles, I think. I saw the spot where I could go off trail to look at the Estate but there were several “no horses beyond this point” signs so I simply stayed on trail. I confess that I did the entire ride without really SEEING the Biltmore Estate.
Ned finally found a puddle that looked like Yoohoo (his favorite) and virtually sucked the thing dry, and he never slowed down drinking from that point all day. I sticked with my usual plan of Lyte Nows on trail at the 1-1.5 hour point and Perform N Wins in his slushie at the holds. On the way back into camp we passed over a bridge alongside the river, and a pair of Canada geese flew up from under the bridge, flapping and honking (I swear they were laughing) and nearly causing both Ned and I heart failure. I stayed on, but it reminded me a great deal of the Geico commercial where the squirrel dashes into the road, causing a wreck, then high-fiving his squirrel buddy at their great prank. Ned gave all the other bridges a hairy eyeball for the remainder of the ride.
My plan for the ride was to ride in the Solstice saddle as long as he was happy and to switch to the BMSS at whatever point he needed to switch. At the 2nd hold, Ned pulsed down fast again, and vetted through just fine with Dr. Jim Baldwin who got a chuckle out of not only his missing ear — “No wonder he’s well behaved, you bit off his ear” — but his Joan Crawford eyebrow scrape from the trailer ride.
On to the 3rd loop, another 19 miles and this on the stated “most technical” loop of the course. The 106 50 mile starters had already been over the course, and it was churned to death, so I knew I’d be out there for a while, and I was. Just under 3 hours. Lots of two point where Ned jogged his way carefully through the slop, and he slid and tripped over tree roots — what a mess. Luckily, the last 2 or 3 miles was a gravel road straight into camp and Ned cantered along on that, feeling great. I was okay with this tough slow loop, and somehow I had it in my head that the next loops would be easier.
Randi was a well-oiled crewing machine at this point, but by this time my friend Maria had showed up as well, so I had someone else to help and to trot Ned out. When I pulled the saddle, I immediately saw Ned had edema at the stirrup bar points. Ack. Time for a saddle change. I pointed this out to the vet, who changed his score for back from an A to an A- as Ned wasn’t sore on it at all, and he approved the plan to lay an ice boot over his back and change saddles.
I changed tops one more time, and luckily that was the last of the significant rain. As Mary Coleman says, you can only get so wet, and it’s true, getting wet was actually worse than being wet. I must have used a bit too much laundry soap on my riding tights as they bubbled throughout the third loop when it rained hardest.
Out for the fourth loop, 17 miles if I recall, and this was where we hit our low point. We crossed under I-26 (or was it I-40?) twice. We also crossed under another overpass with standing water. Ned dodged around it toward some hanging grapevines, and no kidding, I was > < this close to getting closelined right off the horse. What fun! Ned was voracious, the mud was deep and awful, and we walked so much that I was feeling demoralized. So much for our “faster” ride. Even when the footing improved, Ned’s mood did not, and I contemplated pulling a Rider Option when I got back in. We could have dinner and cocktails and watch the rest of the riders, and take care of Ned. Maybe it was too much to ask on that day.
We came into the hold cranky, both of us. Randi immediately said he looked tired, which was a plain fact, but had me sure we should be done. Ned was starving, so we let him eat almost an entire slushie as we untacked and sponged him, and then took him to the vet, Dr. Nick. He vetted fine, and his back was actually looking great, so now what? I asked Nick to give me a good reason to quit. He shrugged his shoulders and said “well, he looks a little tired.” We decided I’d give him the hold time and see how he felt.
Ned ate and ate and ate and ate while I went around trying to find out just how bad the last two repeat 14 mile loops were. By this time it was about 8 pm and I had 28 miles to go. So much for a midnight finish in these conditions. While I was surveying the faster riders with mixed reviews, an amazing thing happened. Ned perked up, his eyes brightened, he looked great.
We tacked up and headed out at a brisk trot. Fortunately this loop allowed for plenty of jiggy jog on decent footing and Ned was much happier to go along. I got to see a good portion of the trail before it got really dark, and it was super well-marked with three glowsticks at each turn. We passed near the Estate, where I could hear the bass beat of music, and by another party where the rock music blared. The 14 miles seemed longish, so I was grateful when my friend Bob and two other Top Ten riders came up on me doing the loop for the last time. Ned found a whole new bounce in his step and we boogied right in, them to the finish line, me to the in-timer.
A thirty minute hold and time to do it all over again. I was laughing and joking at this point, as Ned was doing just fine, and I got a shoulder massage from my friend Barb, who’d finished the 50. I tried to get Randi and Maria to just go to bed when I headed out, assuring them I could vet Ned through at the end on my own, and who knew how long it would take to get around the last loop.
Well. It took awhile. I love to ride alone in the dark, but I confess I learned a lesson at this ride. Ned does better in company. He wasn’t so much tired as he was ready to be done and completely and totally uninspired. He walked along just fine, but I’d ask for a little trot and he’d jog a few steps and quit. Sigh. I fed him a few peppermints and coaxed him along, and had to keep him several times from just plain stopping to eat until dawn. He went along but he was certainly in no rush. It had been a long day.
Until a couple of other riders caught up with us. My boy’s head went up, his gait found a bounce again and we trotted boldly into the finish, laughing and relieved to be done. 2:45.
Dr. Jim did Ned’s final vetting, which was poetic because he’d had to pull us at 80 miles at our first 100 two years ago. So it was wonderful to have Ned get his completion with virtually all As. Randi and Maria, the little whippersnappers, had stayed up and were waiting on me with cheers and Ned’s wool blanket, and they hauled our stuff back through the muddy camp back to the trailer.
We put a blanket on Ned, and tucked him in with the fresh hay and water in his clean pen (thanks Randi!) and called it a night. I managed a shower and a piece of lunch meat before collapsing in bed.
Ned looked great the next morning (i.e. three hours later). I took him for a walk and graze after ice-booting him. I was scared to take off his blanket to see if the saddle edema had returned but it looked great. “Ice and massage (from the other saddle)” Randi proclaimed. Then we dragged our carcasses over for awards. We got a neat Biltmore padded folder, and I was tickled to have just finished, particularly after hearing and seeing and realizing all the horses that didn’t make it through, including many who had gotten pulled at the finish. Maria said her goodbyes and headed back home.
Ned has a sore left fetlock where his interference boot turned and he walloped himself but good, no doubt on the last loop. Other than that, he looks like a million bucks, and as one person pointed out, “still a little fat.” He enjoyed a thorough currying the day after the ride between me packing up all of the stuff, so clearly not too body sore.
The haul home was uneventful, thank God, and we overnighted at Randi’s, turning Ned out in a big pasture where he trotted off sound, then rolled, then took up eating with a passion. This morning when I headed out to start the truck for the four hour haul home, he yelled to me and trotted and cantered around the pasture. Time to go home, Mom! Made me cry. Once again, he humbles me greatly.