… but some times it takes a little time and introspection to see the pattern in the big picture that the puzzle creates.
Sit back with a cup of joe, boys and girls, this is gonna be a long one.
I hesitated to write about my VT 100 experience back in mid-July, largely because I was still sorting out many things in my brain, mentally and emotionally. Here and now, pushing six weeks later, and with the advantage of evaluating it all through the rear view mirror, I’ve gained some perspective.
I’ve ridden the VT100 twice and the Moonlight 50 at the same venue, twice also, all on Ned and all with successful completions, some faster than others, of course. It is my all-time favorite ride, shared, as it is, with roughly 300 runners more insane than the riders mounted on four legged flight animals. Additionally, it is a beautiful course; one could stop dozens of times along the ride and simply stop and suck in the beauty, the vistas, the farms, the flowers, the stone walls, the gardens. It is a breathtaking experience.
I’d decided a few days before the ride that it made sense for Rachel to ride Ace, and for me to ride Sarge. I felt I knew Sarge best and could best feel if he was off in any way, shape or form, especially after his torqued shoe at the Pine Tree 100 which caused me to pull him at mile 65 (even though he was sound with a replaced shoe). Ace is a pretty straight-forward ride, easy to pace, and I was confident he was physically ready for the challenge. Besides, I knew Rachel, who is so tuned in, would take conservative and patient care of my affectionately-termed “special needs child.”
My friend Sylvia came up and met us on Friday with her friend Denny, who was new to endurance riding (boy, was he in for a baptism by fire!) and we set out to check out the crew/vet check locations on the sometimes-challenging-to-find route. Sylvia has ridden Ace and crewed for me before, and I was grateful, as always, for her resourceful and calm presence. I am blessed with terrific friends who are somehow willing to crew, some of them even willing to do it more than once, silly things.
Rachel/Ace and Sarge/I headed out politely and at a reasonable pace on Saturday morning toward the back of the 100 mile pack after accepting a last-minute girth-tightening from Syl. It wasn’t long before we started catching up with the runners, with everyone still chipper and bright-eyed and looking forward to the adventure ahead. Like the horses and riders, the runners get more quiet and energy-conserving as the day goes on, but in the wee morning hours there are cheers and fist pumps and runners turning around on trail to capture photos of themselves with the horses, smiling and celebrating the fact that they are participating in the only concurrent 100 mile ride/run in the United States.
The first stop and go was good, poor Denny got to learn the joy that is schlepping stuff and coaxing reluctant horses to eat, and just how much water gets dumped on hot horses at these events.
At the first hold, both horses were all As and Rachel and I were pleased with our pace and how the boys were feeling. Sarge has been a concern for me all season. We performed a one month expensive experiment with him, suspecting ulcers and dosing him with GastroGard for a thirty day period before Pine Tree, finding no discernible change in his appetite. I was hopeful that with ulcers crossed off our list of potential causes of his lackluster eating at rides that the learning curve would kick in. And in general, Sarge’s eating was quite good.
We had a magical trip over the section of mountains dubbed “Sound of Music”, laughing and sharing tales (and photos) with the runners, finding a runner who shared an alma mater with Rachel (UNH), determining what old haunts were still choice hangouts.
The morning was heating up, and we were taking care to drink and hydrate and mind the horses’ core temperatures, but it wasn’t heat that got Sarge that day.
At roughly 40 miles, on a gravel road, I thought I felt him take a couple of off steps in his right front. (This was the foot on which he torqued a shoe at Pine Tree, so I was hyperaware that something might go awry with that limb.) I sat up, adjusted myself and him for a few moments, making sure we were both even and straight, then felt it again. I asked Rachel to drop along beside me, did she see it?, and yes, eventually she did. We pulled up, checked shoes for rocks and walked for a bit, thinking maybe he’d stung himself on a rock or just had a bad moment, but alas, when we trotted again, there it was. Not every stride, not severe, but it was there, and another 60 miles would not be therapeutic.
Before we had much time to ruminate on it, I sent Rachel and Ace on. “Go! Have a wonderful ride! Take amazing care of my boy!” Rachel looked torn, was I sure? Yes, I was sure, and it made me both laugh and cry to watch Ace, so grown up, so game and fit and strong, simply canter away from us, over a knoll and out of sight.
Sarge called a few times, but he let me walk him in to the next hold, about four or five miles away. I pulled his interference boots, found a couple of small rubs on the hinds (geez, and he’d worn those boots before without incident), got on and trotted again to see if I’d found a sudden cure, but alas no, and we carried on our walk. I was hoping to be slow enough that Ace would be vetted, complete his hold and be gone again before our arrival, as Ace can be pretty attached to his herdmates (my friends know this is a radical understatement).
No such luck, but Ace was about to go out as we headed in on foot. Ace nickered and Sarge nickered back, but Ace, so very focused on the trail, left the out-timer without incident or drama and I headed Sarge over to Art King, DVM, to let him know we were pulling. I bet Art that Sarge wouldn’t limp but we trotted him out anyway. Perfectly sound, of course. It didn’t matter. I knew he was off, and that was enough.
Denny, bless his soul, offered to accompany Sarge back to the treatment area in the volunteer’s trailer (thanks Gaynor Coassin!) to be seen by the treatment vet (mandatory, and well understood) and back to camp, where the two could hang out for the remainder of the day and eat and drink (well, except that I entirely cleaned out the refrigerator of people food and drink) and relax and nap.
This meant I could join Syl and crew Rachel and Ace for the remainder of the day. Huge relief and despite the pull I was truly overjoyed to hit the road with Syl to meet Ace and Rachel at the next pit crew stop.
We had a remarkable day following my friends around the countryside, complete with the usual misadventures — what do you mean the water won’t flow out of the tanks? (No problem, Syl performs mouth to hose siphoning on the spot?) Careful with that knife when you cut up the carrots! Ow, cut. No, make that two cuts, one for me, one for Syl. (No problem, we dig bandaids out of the famed “100 Mile Box” full of every sort of med or item one could need during a 100 mile adventure in the back country.)
As the day wore on, the back of the truck got more and more disorganized; we lost a cooler lid out of the back along a country road. Luckily we spotted it and retrieved it immediately, not wanting to litter in Vermont and figuring we might need that lid later.
At one point we couldn’t fit all of our items in the bed of the truck any more and actually get the tailgate closed. We did rearrange, but in the end, we relied on brute strength and heaved the tailgate closed. High fives all around. Syl is a gem.
The one thing that went seamlessly was Rachel and Ace. Every time we saw them, Rachel was smiling and Ace was bright-eyed and up. He pulsed down beautifully, recovered great, was sound as the day is long, and ate like a champ. They each took good care of themselves and terrific care of one another.
At 88 miles, Rachel was joined by Austin Shaffer, since Deb elected to pull her horse and he needed a sponsor. This slowed Rachel and Ace down considerably. Denny and Syl called it a night and headed back to their B&B for some much-needed sleep while I crewed the last of the miles. I stopped to see the foursome on trail at Polly’s (95 miles or so), and I’m confident that I was looking wearier than the team I was crewing.
All along there were the runners, and when I saw one, I made it a point to cheer and yell and whoop. Having ridden through the runners’ aid stations, and being cheered myself, I know how important it is to hear that encouragement. There was one gentleman that I’d seen all day and every time I saw him I remarked “there is that guy that looks so great.” Truth be told, he looked a little less great as the miles wore on, but I told him every time I saw him how great he looked, to the point that I’m pretty certain he told his friends later that there was some chunky middle-aged chick hitting on him throughout the run.
I headed back to camp, checked on Sarge, who was enjoying hay and apparently dozens of peppermint candies that he and Denny shared throughout the day (as it was the only foodstuff I’d left behind in the horse trailer). Grabbed a wool dress sheet and some crewing stuff and joined the others waiting at the finish line, enjoying a band and the wild applause as each finisher, runner or rider, jogged under the lit-up banner. There were tiki torches and laughter and a lit-up scoreboard for the runners and much excitement, tinged with a bit of weariness, amongst those waiting for their loved one; I was in shared company, to be sure.
When Rachel and Ace crossed over that finish line at roughly midnight, I was full of tears and laughter and so much pride and relief. Rachel dismounted and we hugged and cried and thanked one another; there may be nothing better than bringing a young horse to his first hundred mile completion. But if there is, it is sharing your horse with a dear friend and watching them so easily conquer a 100 mile course. Rachel did it last year with Ned (they chaperoned me with Ace to Ace’s first 100 mile completion) and now with Ace. Life is good.
We settled Ace in, ate too much horrific for you food, and split a bottle of champagne, laughing and crying and enjoying an over the top mutual admiration party! We all loved one another, we were all amazing, and Sarge would get another opportunity.
We’d figure it out, and we did.
More soon.