Patti and Ned’s Luck Runs Out

Finishing a 100 is one third horse, one third rider, and one third luck. While I think we need to find another third in there somewhere for the crew, we ran out of luck.

After publicly planning, conditioning, fretting and musing, I entered the Top of the Rock 100 in Southern Indiana on June 4th with my trusty partner, Ned. I was overjoyed to be joined on trail by my dear friend, Carla, and her mare, Miss Dee Baskstar, to try for their first hundred as well.

The trails got a lot of rain in the two days prior to the ride, and it was hot and muggy on Saturday, which meant a tougher course with the slick clay, and a real challenge in heat management with the equine furnace that is Ned.

Only four horses entered in the 100. Three of us newbies!

The loops were 25, 15, 25, 15, 10 and 10 miles long. First loop in about 3 hours, no troubles, vetted thru all As, but with Carla’s mare a bit tight in the hind (we upped her lytes and she had no troubles for the rest of the day). Second loop in about 2.5 hours, and while we went thru more ice water getting Ned’s pulse down that time, still no worries. That second 25 mile loop was a bear in the heat of the day, particularly because of tornado damage which left ordinarily challenging but shaded trail challenging and brutally hot. Carla and I had one of those half laughing/half oh-what-did-we-get-into moments when we saw turkey vultures circling overhead as we handwalked the horses down the biggest hill. Lots and lots o’ ice to get Ned cooled down for that vet check!

Now ride management became concerned about getting us off the technical and tricky blue loop before dark. We had about 3 to 3.5 hours to do so, so figured no problem, but Lois (McAfee) headed out to mark the end of the trail with glowsticks anyway. She needn’t have, we got thru at about dusk.

It is absolutely true what they say about the horses finding a second wind when night time hits. Ned was chipper and forward and all business, and as we finished that loop I was confident I had plenty of horse left to complete, and just 20 miles left to go.

It wasn’t to be. When we vetted thru, the vets saw Ned take a couple of iffy steps with his left front. Not consistent enough to pull, nothing conclusive on palpation, but Dr. Jim Baldwin and I had a heart-to-heart and I chose to call it a day. My biggest fear was that it was a tendon or a ligament and I was not about to risk my treasured boy simply for a completion. It is the first time he has ever been off at a ride, even a little bit.

The worst thing was having to tell Carla that she’d need to go out alone in the dark to finish up the course. But she did, and God bless her, she and Miss Dee finished at 5:15, about 23:45 into the ride! I am so incredibly proud of her and that tough little mare!

Mostly I have been extremely humbled by this experience. Humbled by my friends and husband, who drove 10 hours each way for the privilege of going through twenty bags of ice, a whole lot of diesel fuel meeting us on trail and the tireless, thankless work that is crewing for a tankosaurus/Arabian cross on a hot trail. Humbled by everyone who gave me advice, pumped me up, yahooed us on course or coming in or

out of the holds, or a high five as we passed on the trail. But mostly and profoundly humbled by my horse, who at 80 miles trotted out with his tail up, his ears pricked, and looking distinctly like a horse who had a lot of miles left in him (if a little gimpy)! He dragged my friend Anita four or five feet attempting to follow Miss Dee out on the next loop after we’d been pulled.

More than once during the day I was sure I would burst into tears of gratitude. Humbling is absolutely the

only word to describe it.

And the huge sigh of relief in all of this is that I know we can do it, this ultimate challenge. We can go 100 miles together, and we will.

As daylight hit, and I checked Ned’s legs for approximately the seven hundredth time, I discovered he’d developed a pretty nasty case of scratches or contact dermatitis (or something oozy, crusty, red and angry) on his single pink pastern. You guessed it, his left front.There couldn’t be a better diagnosis after a pull than something that can be cleared up with some Desitin in a few short days!

I regret that I didn’t get a photo of him the morning after the ride (before he rolled in the grass, and then in the dirt in his paddock) because he looked fantastic.

I am privileged to be owned by quite a horse.

And this fat little DQ did just fine. Not really even sore. I am just bummed I didn’t get to do more miles in the dark, which I find pretty magical. I was so looking forward to that.

When we arrived home, I re-Desitined poor Ned and turned him out to pasture with his buddies. He galloped halfway down the hill to the pasture, wheeled abruptly around as though he’d suddenly realized he’d forgotten something important, then galloped back up to take a long drink from the water tank. Back down to the pasture at a gallop and during the time it took me to water my parched gardens, he and his friends galloped up and down the hill from the pasture at least three times, just for the sheer fun of it. Tail high, flinging his head. Not a single off step. He made me simply watch him in awe, he was so beautiful.

You’ve not heard the last of us yet. We’ll be back. And my intention is to write an article to tell you all about that first successful 100 mile completion. I’m already plotting our come back.

Thanks so much to everyone for so many things.