Endurance Riding

Well, my birthday couldn’t happen without a bang. The day before, while I was celebrating the last day of being 29 on the 29th, we had a pretty decent storm, which left enough snow on top of the barn roof to cause the panels to sag a little. In a panic, after only 3 hours of sleep, I crawled up on the roof and began shoveling snow off. My friend and contractor, Mike, joined me. Together, we shoveled snow off in the dark, while it was hailing, until I was confident both my horses and their shelter were going to withstand the weather.

On March 1st, I missed out on my annual birthday ride with my beloved Appaloosa, Forest (we share the same birthday), because of the weather. However, I did spend a nice day in Roseville with my husband and enjoyed lunch at Macaroni Grill. That evening, we had dinner at home with the boys and I received a handmade card from my youngest son, which read, “Happy Birthday, Mome.”

On Friday, the sun finally came out. It was beautiful… dry, in the 60s, with a light breeze. Jakob played hookey from school in order to join me and 7 of my best horse-crazy friends at Lake Oroville for a birthday trail ride. Before we even arrived at the trail head, though, we had a few mishaps. First, we had to get the horse trailer out of the snow (it hadn’t quite melted yet). Then Gary had to take an ax to my trailer door while I attempted to throw hot water on the latch, aiming through the trailer window. After 15 minutes, the latch finally un-froze and we were able to load the horses. I thought we were fine after that until Beauty fell in the horse trailer during the haul to Lake Oroville. She wasn’t hurt, but the entire situation scared me and I felt guilty that I hadn’t pulled over immediately when I suspected something was wrong. I think Beauty simply slipped – either from some snow that may have been packed in her hooves or from some ice that I didn’t realize was covering the trailer floor.

By 11:30 am on Friday, our group of trail riders was finally ready to hit the trail (I was not the only one who had had trouble that morning – one of my friends had to jump her truck twice and then got a flat on her horse trailer before arriving at the Saddle Dam parking lot; another friend had quite the time catching her horse from the paddock, which put her behind schedule as well). Our group ended up splitting up on the first loop – a few riders hung back to deal with equipment problems and bucking issues (no surprise, seeing as how the morning had gone for most of us already).

Linda, my endurance friend who had been my host during my Tevis Cup training last summer, took the lead, with Jakob, me, Jennifer, and Barb behind. In typical Linda fashion, we moved out on the first loop (and anyone who couldn’t keep up got left behind), slowing down only to offer the horses water. At one point, we passed the rest of our group on the trail, agreeing to meet at the horse campground for lunch. Our party of 5 continued on, taking a detour to get some photos in front of Lake Oroville. Before we returned to the trail, Jakob dared me to race him across the open space – I agreed, and so we left our other 3 group members in the dust!

At lunch, our entire group came together and the 9 of us enjoyed exchanging horse stories. I was the common thread for everyone and it was fun sharing how I knew each friend who was there. We let the horses graze on the grass for awhile – unfortunately, Asali also took this as an invitation to roll and before I could get her up, she squished my stirrup, destroying it. At that point, all I could do was laugh. I rode without stirrups back to the trailer, where I ditched my saddle for a bareback pad. Linda and Barb had taken off to explore the Visitor’s Center, but since many of my friends had to call it a day, I broke out the marble cupcakes my husband had made us the night before and we enjoyed dessert before Jakob, Jennifer, and I went out riding for another 45 minutes.

Overall, it was a great day. The friends who showed up to ride with me made me feel really special, and we all had a good laugh at the mishaps that occurred. I wasn’t one bit surprised. Afterall, last year, when I turned 29, we spent my birthday weekend snowed in, during a power outage… turning 30 was just another typical birthday.

Carol and Jo share a couple drinks at our lunch stop, toasting to my birthday.

Russ, President of the Paradise Horsemen's Association, and his wife, Stacy, let their horses graze in horse camp.

Linda, on her Tevis mare, Sequoia, showing her dimples for the camera.

Me, Jakob, and Jennifer offering our horses water at a trough we found on the trail.

Barb and Jen riding their horses across the wide open space we discovered in front of Lake Oroville. A gorgeous view and beautiful weather - a perfect day for riding!

I first heard about Point Reyes National Seashore from a girlfriend of mine and for the last three years, I have been trying to plan a trip there. Point Reyes was on my bucket list titled “Places I Want to Ride Before I Die.”

On Friday, February 17th, Jakob and I loaded Beauty and Asali in the horse trailer and headed off to the Country Inn and Stables in the small town of Point Reyes Station. The drive took us exactly 4 hours, and it was a beautiful drive – the 37 with its one lane views of the water, winding back country roads past black and white cows grazing on fresh green grass, and fog hiding the mysterious hilltops above.

When we got to the Inn, we unloaded the horses and let them graze in the paddocks. After we got settled in our own room, we hit the town. Jakob and I enjoyed lunch at The Station House, a cute, casual restaurant that boasted both organic and vegetarian items on the menu. Jakob, however, ordered a junior burger and was disappointed to see that its size was actually junior.

After lunch, Jakob and I did some damage at the local bookstore – we spent an hour in the shop, carefully choosing the books we wanted to bring home with us, including one titled The Inner World of Farm Animals. Then we picked up a few souvenirs at a market, looked around a unique toy store, and finally, spent some time in a photographer’s studio where Jakob was given a copy of his favorite black and white print.

Friday evening, my brother and his girlfriend, Natalie, drove over from Petaluma to enjoy dinner with us. We purchased some fresh produce from the only grocery store in town and cooked up a stir fry in the kitchenette at the Inn. We had not originally planned on seeing Darshan and Natalie, so it was a pleasant surprise to be able to spend time with them.

On Saturday morning, our friends and endurance partners (who I met at my very first limited distance ride last year), joined us for the rest of our trip. We met Kathryn and Madison at the Bear Valley Trail Head. While I had ridden with Kathryn and Madison before (most memorably, at the Redwood 50), this was Jakob and Beauty’s first ride with them. I was so releaved when Kathryn said, “We are all on vacation, so if someone isn’t having fun, you need to speak up. This is all about us having fun, okay?”

As we got going on the trail, we figured out that it worked best for Asali and me to lead, with Jakob and Beauty behind us, and then Kathryn and ZaZa with Madison and Tai in the back. We rode 20 miles on Saturday and I was so impressed with both Jakob and Beauty and with Madison and Tai. We experienced everything from narrow, single track trails to rocky ledges to muddy uphill climbs and tricky downhill descents. We also experienced some EXTREME wind. These were not trails or conditions for your average young rider. I remember thinking, as we were riding the cliffs overlooking the Pacific, “Our kids are rockstars.” We did stop more than once to enjoy the views and although it was so windy we could barely hear each other talk, I did hear Jakob say, as he looked out over the great ocean, on top of his big horse, “I feel so small.”

Sunday’s ride turned out to be the most fun I think any of us have ever had on horseback. All the horses felt great and we trotted and cantered out most of the way. We started out of Five Brooks Trailhead and rode Stewart Trail to Greenpicker to Wildcat Beach. The weather was perfect. We jumped a lot of logs out on the trail and we spent a lot of time laughing. When we got down to the beach, Jakob walked Beauty out with so much confidence, she wasn’t even phased by the roaring surf. Beauty even felt comfortable enough to try to roll in the sand – with saddle and all. We got her up, though, before she rolled on any tack.

On Sunday night, Kathryn treated us to a wonderful dinner at a local restaurant where wood-fired pizzas were the specialty. We reminisced about our rides over the last two days and talked about the upcoming endurance ride season. We spent more time laughing and I took photos of all the food we ate, as well as a shot of the cook flipping a pizza.

On Monday morning, as Jakob and I were driving home, I couldn’t help but smile. We were both sad the trip was over (Jakob commented on how fast the weekend went by), but I felt so blessed. Just a few years ago, I was in a very different place in my life. It was a rough road and a lot of hard work to get our family to where we are now, but that makes me appreciate everything we have even more. As Jake and I were saying good-bye to Kathryn and Madison, I looked at Kathyrn and said, “We have a good life.” She smiled in agreement.

For the last several years, my life has been a whirlwind of school, kids, and managing a home with my husband, not to mention running my own non-profit in between and working part-time. Since my graduation from Chico State University on December 16th and getting through the holidays with limited chaos, I have had the opportunity to discover what it is like to have an (almost entirely) unrestricted schedule. Gary and I are re-discovering our marriage, which had its challenges in the beginning. I am re-defining my role as a wife and mother and I am appreciating that I have more time to spend with my children. Jakob, Declan, and I have been going hiking and spending lots of time in the kitchen, making everything from homemade soup to Indian food and blending smoothies and baking. Jakob and I have been riding more and Jakob has taken up bareback riding, a new challenge for him.

As I am sitting here writing my first blog of the new year, I am thankful for everything I have. It has been a long road to get to where I am today. I have learned, in the meantime, that most things are not given. Nothing is free. Everything comes with a price, and what is most valuable, is earned.

I was rejected from nursing school three times. I saved all those rejection letters. I was finally offered a spot in the program (a few weeks after receiving my third rejection letter) when someone dropped out of the program. Once in nursing school, I spent more than one early morning complaining about having to get up for hospital clinical. Half-way through the program, I wondered if I should have gone to veterinary school instead (until I realized how many credits short I was of qualifying as a candidate for vet school). I considered returning to my previous theatre arts major, or just dropping out altogether and turning my current job into my career. But when I was reminded of how much hard work went into getting accepted to nursing school, I couldn’t let it go. So I stopped looking for alternatives.

Now that I have graduated and I’ve been working as a Registered Nurse for several months, I am seeing how many doors have opened up and how many more opportunities I have. I also see how much more I have to learn.

This is it. The first day after graduation I woke up and realized, “This is the first day of the rest of my life.” And this year is it – the year before the Tevis Cup. When I think of everything Asali and I still have yet to figure out – saddle fit, hoof boot issues, feeding and training schedules – I become overwhelmed, but I am determined to figure it out, for I have discovered what rewards come when you refuse to give up, even when all you want to do is that.

I was driving home today, listening to country music (yes, I admit I had Garth Brooks on), when I felt this overwhelming sense of defeat. I can’t tell you exactly where it came from or why I would even feel that way, but I had all these thoughts racing through my mind. I started beating myself up about less than average grades I had received in nursing school. I felt regret for moments I had missed out on with my children because I was “too busy.” I thought about times I had let friends down, and times when I had rushed out the door without saying good-bye to my husband. And then I began thinking about a patient I had lost at work several days ago.

While I have seen many people die throughout the 6 years I have been working in health care, this was the first time I had been the bedside nurse when a patient died. My patient had been stable all morning. In the afternoon, she suddenly crashed. For three hours I was in the twilight zone, working hard to save her, with a team of experienced nurses and two doctors. I knew very little about her – just that she had been a pleasant, easy patient to care for. When I could no longer feel a pulse and the doctor left the room, I could not hold back the tears. Three long-time nurses, two I had never met before, were with me and I was so embarrassed to be crying, but I couldn’t stop. I was consumed by this overwhelming helplessness. I knew there was nothing else we could have done and I also knew that her illness had been caused in part by personal lifestyle choices she had made. Still, to me, she was a human being. Another life who, for a moment, had shared my world. I thought about the mistakes I had made and thought I was just lucky to be alive because I, too, could have been gone as a result of more than one choice I have made.

The day after my patient’s passing, I was behind the wheel with my family in the car, on our way to the grocery store to buy Thanksgiving dinner. I rear-ended a car in front of me. While there were no injuries or damage caused, the driver I had hit was not happy. Inside, I was furious, wondering how he could make a big deal out of nothing when I had just held the hand of a woman while she had died the day before. My husband looked at me, knowing something was wrong. He knew the accident had happened because I had been off somewhere else. He rubbed my shoulder, smiled, and reminded me, “Be present.”

A couple days ago, I took my boys horseback riding into the canyon. The boys had never been riding in the canyon before and while I was ponying Declan, Jakob was on his own with Beauty. I looked at Jakob, who tends to be a day-dreamer just like me, and said, “Jakob, you need to pay attention today.” I told him there were a couple spots on the trail where there were sheer drop-offs. I told him we might run into some dirt bikes or ATVs, which could spook the horses. I told him he needed to be on alert and be attentive to his horse. I told him, “Be present.”

I have a tendency to fill my life up with so many activities it would cause the average person to go dizzy. I often feel I am good at a lot of things, but I am not great at anything. When I do succeed, however, it is when I am fully in the moment. The only thing that stands in my way is me. I am someone who needs to learn to listen more – and not just to my friends, my husband, my children – but to my horse, who often has more honesty than the human.

Two years ago, my mom adopted Donovan, a Tennessee Walker who had belonged to my girlfriend’s mother. I had promised Randi, moments before her death, that I would take care of her treasured horses, Donovan and Forest. While my mother had provided a wonderful home for Donovan over the last two years, she was no longer able to care for him. I had hoped that when the time came for my mom to re-home Donovan, I would be in a position to adopt Donny. However, after a long discussion with my husband, we decided we would not be able to provide the best home for Donovan. We were afraid of taking on the expenses of another horse after just buying a house. I was also worried about the extensive hoof care Donovan needs, as he has some issues with one hind foot. Being an endurance rider as well, I knew Donovan was not a horse fit for endurance, although he is a pleasure to ride.

Donovan has a quiet mind, a kind soul, and gentle gaits. He was the horse who taught Jakob to ride. He was also the horse who taught Jakob to fall, and then to get back on and ride. My mom enjoyed Donovan and it was difficult for her to give him up, but she knew it was in his best interest. She found a great home for him in Oroville, with two women, Susan and Margie. He has 10 acres of pasture, 3 new gelding friends, and 2 llamas to get to know.

On Sunday, we visited Donovan and said good-bye to our precious friend. Before we left, Jakob had a moment alone with Donny. As he put his hand through the gate and touched Donovan on the nose, he began to cry. Donovan, with his big muzzle, nudged Jakob’s cheek, wiping away his tears as if to say, “It’s okay. I like it here. I am going to be fine.” As I witnessed this most pure conversation between two animals, speaking to each other not in words but in feelings, I began to cry. And I was, once again, thankful for the horses I have known and the things they have taught me.

The family showing Donovan some love.

My mom and her husband, “Mr. Albino,” enjoying time with Donovan.

Jakob and Donovan, in a quiet moment together.

Mr. Albino, kissing Donovan good-bye.

I had a difficult time saying good-bye to Donovan. I was attached to the fact that Donovan was a part of Randi. Below is Randi’s story, a short memoir I wrote after her passing in 2009. As I think of Randi now, I think of the love she had for her horses and I am glad Donovan has found a forever home where he will be loved…

I was sitting in front of the computer at work, inputting my patients’ vital signs, when I got the call. Randi, my friend’s mother, was taking her last breaths. I went into the break room to return Melissa’s message, sure that Randi must have already passed. When Melissa answered the phone, it was obvious that she had been crying, but surprisingly, her mother was still breathing.

It is supposed to be any time now, Melissa told me. Any time now. Melissa put the phone up to her mother’s ear so that I could say good-bye. I asked Melissa if she wanted me to drive out to the hospital, but she said no. It was a five hour drive and Melissa knew her mother would be gone before I made it there.

I had last seen Randi just a couple months earlier, the day before Mother’s Day. While I feared she would eventually succumb to her cancer, I didn’t think it would be soon. She was bright and lively and full of hope when I saw her. She was not a hospice patient. She was actively fighting her disease, and putting up a pretty big battle against it.

That evening, when I got home from work, I called Melissa to see how she was doing. She was still beside her mother, watching her breathe her shallow breaths. I asked her again if she wanted me to come to the hospital. But the doctor had just been in and said it again – any time now. I told Melissa that I would call her first thing in the morning. If Randi was still alive then, I’d make the drive to the hospital.

At 6 am, Randi was still hanging in there, although her breaths were fewer and farther between. She hadn’t had any urine output for over 24 hours and she was unconscious, as she had been for more than two days. My husband and I dropped off our children with some friends and started driving towards the hospital. We kept the cell phone near us, expecting to get the call that Randi had died on our way to see her. We were ready to re-route our trip to Randi’s home at any moment.

Five hours later, Gary and I made it to the hospital. We walked up to the oncology unit and when we entered Randi’s room, she was surrounded by family. Alicia, a close friend of Melissa and I, was also there. Melissa was next to her mother on the hospital bed. She hadn’t left her mother’s side since Randi was admitted several days earlier. I approached Randi and Melissa, leaning down to kiss Randi’s soft, bald head. And while I was struck by how thin and pale Randi was, I remember thinking she looked peaceful.

I decided to take a spot against the wall in the room, next to Alicia, to allow the family to gather around Randi. Music was playing, prayers were being said, and a photo slide show of Randi and highlights of her life flashed on the laptop in the room. After a photo of Randi walking out to see her horses for the last time popped up on the screen, Alicia turned to me and asked how the move was going. Gary and I were moving our family to a new home, complete with a three stall horse barn on the property. Melissa over heard this conversation and said, “You’re moving to horse property?!? Could you take Donovan and Forest?” Donovan and Forest were Randi’s beloved horses, and Melissa did not know where they were going to go after her mom left this world.

I went up to Melissa, taking Randi’s hand in mine, and said, “Well, I only have one horse and a three stall barn, so there is room for Donovan and Forest.” Melissa and I were still talking horses a few minutes later when I noticed Randi’s breaths were really slowing down. Suddenly, the color in her face left, and I knew Randi was dying. I was still holding her hand when she took her last breath.

Before we left the hospital that afternoon, Lynn, Randi’s sister, looked at me and said, “She was waiting. Randi loved those horses and she wanted to know what was going to happen to them before she left.”

It was only a few weeks ago that I first learned about Paddock Paradise. Jaime Jackson’s Paddock Paradise was inspired by wild horses and the way they live freely in a natural environment. “The premise of Paddock Paradise is to stimulate horses to behave and move naturally according to their instincts.” A Paddock Paradise encourages constant movement, which provides for better hoof health, minimizes the need for pre-ride warm-ups, promotes digestive and respiratory health, and helps address neurotic behavior.

About My Paddock Paradise:

I only had about an acre to work with, but I discovered my acre gave me just enough room to create a descent Paddock Paradise. I used many trees to mount hot wire on to, thus creating the track that is essential for any Paddock Paradise. The track is what keeps the horses moving, and I made mine vary between 10 and 15 feet in width around the perimeter of my acre.

Next, I chose my 6 feeding stations. I used hay nets (mounted on trees) rather than hay bags in order to slow the horses feeding down, since I have decided to allow free choice hay (rather than feeding 2-3 times a day, like you see in a typical, modern barn, my horses now have access to hay 24 hours a day). I also decided to invest in The Natural Feeder, an equine foraging system that allows horses to feed continuous, yet restricted amounts of hay. The Natural Feeder is designed so horses can eat with their heads down, which is how they naturally eat.

I chose two watering stations, one at either end of my Paddock Paradise, so the horses would be forced to travel in order to drink (just as in the wild). I also put up a 4-stall mare motel in the center of my paddock, so the horses would have some shelter from inclement weather. Lastly, I created a round-pen like area – the track opens up in a wide circle where the horses can roll and play.

My plans for the future of my Paddock Paradise include varying the terrain to keep the horses interested and also to promote healthy hooves. I have already put down a short wooden bridge that the horses cross on one spot of the track, but I would also like to place some pea gravel along another side of track. In addition, I am considering putting ground poles for the horses to step over somewhere along another side of track. Any more ideas for my Paddock Paradise????

Even before we moved into our new home, I began designing my “dream barn.” It was red, with four stalls and a tack room, automatic waterers and run-out paddocks. And it had one of those rooster wind vanes on top of the roof.

As I started getting quotes for the concrete stem wall, the electricity and plumbing, things just continued to add up. I realized I was already over budget with the cost of the production of the barn alone. I became very discouraged, wondering if I was ever going to be able to bring my horses home. After a few days of moping around the house without any direction, I finally decided to revisit the drawing board and come up with a new plan for my horses.

I called my hoof trimmer and good friend, James Youngblood, on a Thursday afternoon. I told him, in frustration, I was on my way over to his place because I wanted to see the set-up he had arranged for his horses.

One hour later, I showed up on James’ doorstep. He took me over to his paddock and I saw how he had used solar panels to power an electric fence to keep his horses contained. As we were leaving, he said if he were to re-do his paddock, he would create a “Paddock Paradise.” I immediately inquired about that “Paddock Paradise.” I ended up leaving James’ house with Jaime Jackson’s book in hand: Paddock Paradise: A Guide to Natural Horse Boarding.

That night, I spent a couple hours reading Jaime’s book. I was convinced from the first few pages that his paddock design was going to be it – I was going to build a Paddock Paradise for my horses!

After meeting with more than one contractor, I finally found someone who could do the job for me in the time I wanted it done (basically, I wanted everything to be done “yesterday”). I promised Mike Iorga, my contractor, a horseback ride when he had completed enough of the paddock that I could bring my horses home. With Mike’s help, the help of 3 college guys, myself, and my husband all working on the job, we created a Paddock Paradise in 5 days (for less than half what the barn would have cost)…

Yesterday, on the same day I celebrated 7 years of marriage to Gary, I brought my horses home. I rode Asali, Mike rode Forest, and my new friend and the tenet who is renting our guest house, Alyssa, rode Beauty. We spent most of our time on the trail, starting at Doon Grade Ranch, our former home, and then connected to Coutolenc Road. We rode past views of the canyon on the 7 or so mile ride. At 1:45 in the afternoon, we arrived at the new house and immediately let the horses discover their Paddock Paradise.

I spent a greater part of the day watching the horses in our yard. And that evening, when Gary and I were at dinner with our boys, I was thankful for the family and the life we had created together.

I was supposed to take my son, Jakob, to his first 25-mile ride a couple months ago. We had planned on riding the Fireworks 25, but one week before the ride, Beauty had a swollen eyelid (probably caused by an allergic reaction from a bee sting). After 3 days of Benadryl treatments, she was fine, but the night before we were supposed to leave for the Fireworks ride, Beauty came up lame on her left front leg. Jakob was extremely disappointed. He cried a lot that night, but then we decided to pick another ride to attend. 

We decided on the Patriot’s Day 25 at Lake Almanor on September 11. However, we never made it to that ride either because we were in the middle of moving. Although escrow had been scheduled to close the week before, our loan documents did not come in time. When we finally received the documents we needed to go forward with the sale of the house, we were in the middle of a busy week. My dad drove up from Orange County, my brother and his girlfriend came from the bay area and for 3 days we were throwing things in boxes and bags and shuttling back and forth from the old place to the new place. 

The first night we spent in our new home was September 10th, even though we did not actually close escrow until the 15th. We are all enjoying the new house, but I know I won’t feel like it is a home until the horses are here. Right now, I am boarding the horses at the ranch where we used to live while I get things set up for Asali, Beauty, and Forest.

On Saturday, September 3rd, I rode the Camp Far West 50 Mile Endurance Ride on Asali. It turned out to be the ride where I finally learned what endurance is all about.

The night before the ride, Asali and I rode our pre-ride with our friends, Kathryn and Madison. I rode Asali bareback, in a rope halter, and she felt really good. Other than the rattlesnake we encountered on the trail, which sent all three horses into panic mode, the pre-ride was uneventful and I felt good about the next day.

The start of the 50 mile ride on Saturday, however, was chaotic. Asali tried to bolt and wanted to gallop the entire 20 miles of the first loop. She threw a boot and after I backtracked almost a mile to find it, I discovered it was broken and useless to us (a fellow endurance rider, however, let us borrow his Easy boot temporarily).

Then there was the coyote that spooked Asali and the incredibly stressful ride past the shooting range, where not a single man thought to hold his fire. The trail was dry and dusty, the footing was not good, it was hot, and there was limited shade.

By the time we got to the first vet check, I was in a piss poor mood. I had a bad attitude and I was ready to quit. I walked straight over to my camp, made Asali a mash, got her some water, and decided to relax before making my decision as to what to do. I was seriously considering taking a “rider option” out of the ride.

After 40 minutes I went to vet Asali in. When I handed my rider card to the volunteer helping the vet, it was discovered that I did not present Asali for P & R (pulse and respiration – every horse has 30 minutes to meet the P & R criteria for the ride before vetting). Because I had not proven that Asali actually met the P & R criteria within 30 minutes, there was talk of pulling us from the ride. However, because it was an honest mistake on my part (I was preoccupied coming into the vet check and didn’t see the P & R volunteers waiting to evaluate the horses), ride management decided I could continue on for a completion. However, my hour hold started with the vet’s evaluation of my horse (rather than at P & R time, which should have occurred right when I entered the vet check). So, because of my silly mistake (maybe I should read that AERC rulebook I have), Asali and I lost 40 minutes.

I went back to the trailer, feeling absolutely stupid. I thought about just loading my horse in the trailer and leaving, but after a text message of encouragement from my husband and 12-year-old Madison giving me her “peer pressure” to continue, I decided to take the extra time to relax, get over it, and then just mount and ride on.

On the second loop, Asali moved out really slow. She had burned herself out on that first loop, something I had been afraid of. We were stuck riding on this gravel road that covered us in dirt every time a car went by and again, we were hot and tired. There was no shade and not very much water. When we finally cut off the road to an actual trail, I kept thinking about turning around and riding back to camp. I remember thinking, “How am I going to do the Tevis Cup if I can’t even get through this 50?” I was getting really down on myself, feeling completely discouraged. I do not know why, but a voice in my head just kept telling me to move forward. And at some point, we will have moved forward far enough, that it would make more sense to just keep going rather than to turn around and ride back to camp…

Asali continued to move out really slow. I started to think that we were the very last ones in this ride, the tail end, and that we wouldn’t make cut off time if we kept moving at the pace we were going. I was close to tears when I heard something behind us. I turned to look. It was another horse and rider.

Sarah Teasley and her horse, Red, ended up being our saving grace. Sarah lifted my spirit and was good company for me. We discovered we had a lot in common and our chats about our children, our husbands, and our experiences with horses made the ride a little more enjoyable. And for Asali, Red was a “pick me up.” Asali began to move out just a little faster. She enjoyed the company and the competition.

When we arrived at the second vet check, although I was thirsty, hungry, tired, sore, and hot, I knew we would finish. After riding 42 near-miserable miles, what was another 8? I took some Tylenol for a splitting headache I had that was probably due to dehydration and then mounted back up.

Sarah and I rode the last loop together. We had decided when we found each other that we would finish together. The last loop was long – the longest 8 miles I have ever ridden. And we had to tackle a never-ending uphill climb. However, when we got to the road that would eventually lead us into camp, the horses perked up. Asali took off cantering, with Red close behind. Sarah and I actually passed two riders and continued for the finish.

That last stretch of our ride was amazing. It felt so good to be nearing the end. I was yelling at the top of my lungs and Sarah looked at me and said, “This is what it is all about. You’re out there in the middle of the ride thinking why the heck am I doing this? Then you get to the end and you feel this huge sense of accomplishment.”

We crossed the finish line at 6:11 pm. We had been riding since 7 am.

After I took care of Asali and vetted her in for a completion (she was deemed “fit to continue” and the vet commented at how “bright” she looked), I stuffed some food in my face. Then I walked down to the creek with Madison and threw myself in the cool water with Asali.

Copyright Gore/Baylor Photography

It was late Thursday afternoon. Gary and I had just gotten back from Durham with a truckload of hay. As I was backing the truck up to the hay shed, I noticed Forest lying down in his paddock. I smiled, thinking he looked really comfortable resting in the shade.

I continued backing the truck up when I noticed Forest didn’t get up. Normally, Forest runs over to the truck and tries to steal hay out of the bed while I am unloading it. This time he didn’t. This concerned me, but I thought I’d go ahead and unload a couple bales, hoping to spark his interest.

Two bales later, he was still on the ground. I looked over at him, puzzled. I entered his paddock to check on him. I forced him up and he immediately dropped back to the ground. I forced him up again. He went down to the ground. Again.

Immediately, I knew: COLIC.

I have never had a horse colic before. I have never even seen a horse colic before. But I knew. And I knew to get him moving right away.

I threw a bareback pad on Asali and a halter on Forest. I mounted Asali and we ponied Forest, at a walk, down Doon Grade Road, a wide, flat, easy trail. He dropped once on the trail, but by the end of the almost 2 hour walk, his attitude seemed to perk up.

I took a set of vital signs. His pulse was 34 – normal. His respiratory rate was 12 – normal. Temperature was normal, capillary refill was normal, his skin wasn’t tenting. He had gut sounds. So, I decided to offer him a little food and water. He accepted both and I thought we were out of the woods. I left, prepared to check on him again in an hour.

One hour later, Forest had stopped eating and drinking. He was standing, not lying down, but something didn’t seem right. I looked over the paddock with a flashlight and realized it was empty – completely empty. He had not eliminated in at least 5 hours. I took his food away.

Another hour later, just before 11 pm, I was back down at the barn checking on him again. Still, he was standing. But this time I noticed some muscle twitching on his haunches and around his belly. Things just did not seem right. I knew: it was time to call the vet.

Dr. Dawn Alves, from All About Equine, instructed me to give Forest Banamine, a pain medication and anti-inflammatory for colic. I did not have any, so I gave Bute instead. She said it was okay to let Forest rest if he was lying down quietly. I was not to let him thrash on the ground and I needed to periodically walk him.

I set up my cot in Forest’s paddock. It was a long night, but I enjoyed being outside, under the stars. More than once during the night, I found Forest lying right next to my cot. He had his big lips right next to my head and I forgave the goobers he left on my pillow because I knew he was watching over me. When he felt well enough to stand, he was perched over me, on alert for any danger as I slept.

Forest never rolled or thrashed throughout the night, and at 6 am, while I was hand-walking him again, he finally pooped. And then he drank. I was so relieved.

The first call I made was to my friend, Melissa Lewis. Forest had originally been her mother’s horse, but when Randi passed away from breast cancer two years ago, Melissa gave Forest to me.

I put Forest back in his paddock, although I did not offer any food. The vet had told me to withhold all his feed, but to continue to offer water. I sat back down on my cot and kept watch for awhile.

Later that morning, Forest began showing signs of colic again. And this time I could really tell he was uncomfortable. He would lie down and moan, paw when he was standing, curl his upper lip, turn his head to poke at his belly. He stopped drinking. I took another set of vital signs: normal. And again, he had bowel sounds – so loud that I did not need my stethoscope to hear them.

Dr. Dawn was on a vet call when I called the office again, so I sent a friend down to her office to pick up some Banamine. After I gave the Banamine, Forest seemed to improve, although I was well aware of the fact that the Banamine might just be masking his symptoms.

He drank. And he pooped again. Another set of vital signs: normal.

I called the vet again to update her. This time, Dr. Brittany Davis took the call. She told me to administer another dose of Banamine and to give Forest electrolytes and some water through a syringe. It seemed to be mild colic, and Forest did seem to be making some progress, so we decided to see how he was in the morning.

Friday night, Forest and I slept on the front lawn. I did not want him to cast himself in the paddock fence (as he had almost done earlier), so I left him loose on the lawn. Friday night was a difficult night – he continued to be in pain despite the Banamine. He began rolling, and when I tried to force him up, he refused repeatedly before giving in. He tried to drop when I hand-walked him and he would plant his feet and refuse to move forward.

By Saturday morning, he seemed to have improved. But this time, I wasn’t buying it. Something in my gut told me it was time to see the vet. Gary had left to go out of town, Jakob had carpooled to his football game with a friend, and I was alone with Declan, three dogs, and our three horses. I hitched the trailer, loaded Forest, and put Declan in his booster seat, with Asia next to him. My mom arrived from Quincy just as we were leaving. She came along for moral support.

At noon, we were at my friend Jen’s house. Dr. Brittany’s first impression was that Forest looked really bright. But I told her he had been doing that for the last two days – looking like he was improving and then a little later, showing signs of colic all over again. He produced another pile of poop in the horse trailer, but still, I knew, something was wrong.

During the rectal exam, Dr. Brittany found the cause of the colic: an impaction. And it was a large one. Next thing I knew, Forest was getting an NG tube down his nose and an IV in his neck. There was mention of hospitalization and possible surgery.

I did not want to leave Forest. And I didn’t want to take him anywhere but home. I am a nurse and I knew I could take care of Forest, in his own environment. I told Dr. Brittany we would talk about hospitalization if it got to that point.

Back at our own barn, I set Forest up in Asali’s stall. I had 5 Liter bags of Lactated Ringer’s solution, some IV sedation, more Banamine, heparin flushes, and everything else I needed to bolus IV fluids into Forest.

As I sat in the stall with him, running the IV fluids, I texted a few friends to send some good thoughts and “juju” out to Forest. I was holding up really well, in my survival mode, despite the fact that I had only had a few hours of sleep over the last 42 hours.

As I continued to watch the IV flow, however, I began wondering how I was going to feed Declan dinner (who was alone up at the house) and how I was going to pick up Jakob from his friend’s house (my mom had since left to tend to her own horses back in Qunicy). The first person I thought to call was Stacy Mullins, a friend I met through the Paradise Horseman’s Association (her husband is the PHA President). Her daughter’s horse had just colicked a week ago, so I knew she would understand what I was going through.

When Stacy called me back, I answered the phone and immediately started crying. She simply said, “We’ll be up and we’ll bring pizza.” Then she hung up the phone.

After the IV fluids ran out, I walked Forest around the ranch. Declan was with me, and so was Asia, our puppy, and Caine, our black lab. As we were walking, I started thinking about how Forest and I shared the same birthday and how I was the first person he allowed on his back. The bond between a horse and rider can, at times, be as strong as the bond a mother has with her child. I began to cry.

When Stacy, her husband Russ, daughter Ashley, and Ashley’s boyfriend arrived, they took over care of Forest. Russ rubbed Forest’s rump and under his belly. Forest finally started getting things moving, although he didn’t produce a lot of poo. We made him a warm mash (which the vet said we could give him, although I was not to feed hay) and continued to walk him. Ashley picked up Jakob, we had dinner, and I got a warm shower before setting up my bed at the barn and sending the Mullins family on their way.

Saturday night was the worst night only because I was so exhausted and Forest kept me up with his incessant gnawing at the wood on the barn. He was hungry, but I couldn’t feed him. Finally, at about 2 am, I moved him over to the larger barn on our property, which is made of steel. I locked him in a stall and then went up to the house to sleep for a few hours.

On Sunday, Forest was definitely improving, but he still was not out of the woods. He had not passed the entire impaction. Dr. Brittany instructed me to administer more IV fluids. She had given me 4 bags, but those were long gone. Luckily, I was able to buy 3 bags (15 more liters) from my landlady, a small animal vet and horse owner.

Jakob helped me set up the IV fluids for Forest. I even showed him how to do the heparin flush and how to clean the hub of the IV tubing. He sat in the stall with Forest and me, leaving only to check on his brother and get us something to eat and drink. Jakob also brought a horse book down to the barn for me to read. As Asia lay at our feet, I looked over at Jakob and got this sense that everything happens for a reason. I knew in my heart that Forest was going to recover and although I did not know why he was suffering, I felt as though there was a lesson to be learned. It was time to slow down and enjoy each moment life has to give.

After we gave the IV fluids, Jakob fed Forest another warm, wet mash with electrolytes. Declan rubbed Forest’s face as he ate, saying, “Ah, it’s okay, buddy.” I recognized this connection between horse and child, a love that is so innocent and unconditional, it made me sad to realize we adults don’t have much of it sometimes. What Jakob and Declan and Forest and all the other living beings that have touched my life have given me is something so raw and beautiful it cannot be described in words – it is the essence of living, the joy we feel, the energy that keeps us going.

Forest’s impaction cleared on Sunday night, and on Monday, when the vet re-checked him, he was back to his normal self. Forest has made a full recovery and we will spend many more days riding together.

Forest getting the nasogastric (NG) tube down his nose in order to administer electrolytes into his stomach.

Trying to keep Forest calm while administering the IV fluids. He is curling his upper lip up in pain.

The IV site.

Even though Forest was wearing a silly fly mask, I could not smile while he was receiving the IV fluids.