Death Valley Encounter 2007

• On the Way Down

• Pre-Day

• Day 1

• Day 2

• Day 3

• Day 4

• On the Way Home

(click on thumbnail photos to see full size pictures)

(click on aerial photo to launch Google Earth track of Day 1.
You'll need Google Earth already installed on your computer)

Hoo, was I pleased that I'd invested in my catalytic heater for my do-it-yourself trailer-housie conversion! I ran that heater on high all night long and barely kept the temperature in the trailer into the 40s. Struggling out of bed on Day 1 was tough - it was in the low 20s (-5°C) outside and I ended up putting on practically every item of fleecy clothing I'd brought down with me, venturing out in six layers.

Thankful for my rump rug, we started the day by hand-walking loops of the dry lake bed before getting on the pones and then continuing our brisk walking once we got on. We planned on leaving at the back of the pack, but it seemed to take an age before anyone got going - we got the nasty feeling maybe everybody was planning on trying to start at the back. 

Loop 1 (South-East)

And finally we were off. 72 riders started Day 1 and Roo thought the whole idea was very exciting, but kept it together. He was extremely eager, suggesting it would be best if we went as fast as we possibly could. I tried putting him in front to see if he'd settle down, but he'd blast off at 12 mph, so I ended up putting him in the back where he constantly fought with me, wanting his head, rooting the reins through my woolly-gloved hands and accelerating at every available opportunity and trying to smoosh into the tail of the horse in front <grrr>. This was going to be hard work. What had happened to my normally mild-mannered, easy-to-rate pone? After nearly 700 miles, isn't he supposed to be figuring this endurance-thing out?

We travelled on a wide dirt track parallel with the Garlock Road for a while, stopping briefly at a water stop at about five miles (under the watchful eye of Dave Nicholson), before crossing hwy-395 and turning south into the hills to the east of Johannesburg. The most alarming thing in these hills were some gaping vertical mining shafts that were big enough to swallow a car - stuck out in the middle of nowhere with just a wimpy wire-strand fence to stop you plummeting down into them. <ack>

At ~12 miles, we came to the vet check next to a mining tower - it was a water stop and brief trot-by to make sure all the horses were doing OK. I gave Roo a large ziploc baggie of carrots and LMF feed to investigate while I cleaned the grit out of his splint boots. 

While I was bending over, I noticed an odd V-shaped object poking out the back of his foot. To my horror, I realised it was a big blob of Hoof-It that hadn't set up properly when we put his foot down in the dark the previous night. The material had squirted out the back of his duct-taped foot and oozed up the back of the heel into the hairline. This blob of pad then pulled free, yanking out a large chunk of hair with it. <gulp> Was I doomed to lameness already, a mere 12 miles into the ride?

I carefully used a knife to cut off the worse of the protrusion, worrying that he might tread on it and pull the entire pad out of his foot. I was equally worried that I'd slip with that stupid knife and slice a hole in the back of his heel bulb, so I was relieved when I managed to complete the task without mishap <let out breath>. And thankfully, he didn't seem affected by the ripped out hair.

We crossed back over hwy-395, moseying through Johannesburg, past the sign announcing "Fresh Jerky - 75 miles" (there was some debate as to whether we'd travel 75 miles for jerky, fresh or not). Over the hill, we dropped down into the living ghost town of Randsburg.

The sights of Randsburg:

Once through the town (I use the term loosely), we set off down another long wash heading back towards camp. 

Unfortunately for me, Roo is blessed with an excellent sense of direction and despite a brief interlude in his enthusiasm, he perked up considerably and again began to speed up - cheerfully breaking into a canter whenever I was distracted trying to stuff my camera back into the pommel bag. By now I was starting to feel a little battered - I was alternately bracing against the pommel trying to rate him, but also being regularly slammed into it as he jumped around. My muscles were cold from the continued biting wind, my back had a tweaked muscle in it, and my nose was running continuously.  Is endurance riding fun or what!? <grin>

Returning towards ridecamp  down a long wash

On the long downhill I hopped off (and my legs thanked me for it) and walked a mile or so before we got to the expanse of the valley ahead - a long, straight track leading right back to camp on the horizon, all at a very gradual downhill. A photo would have been nice, but I didn't get the chance. Roo couldn't believe his luck: how fast could he rush across this to get to his destination?! Across the valley we went, me struggling to keep him to a dull roar and trying to protect my abused body from further insult. Did Roo care about the deep sand along the way? About the pokey-metal things that intermittently stuck up out of the ground - part of the pipeline we were following? Oh no, getting there as quickly as he could was his goal. <grrrr>

Arriving back at camp was great relief. I was sweaty and damp (note to self: invest in some wicking shirts instead of cotton) and peeled off my six layers. It felt great for about five minutes, until I cooled off rapidly and got chilly. I abandoned the soggy clothes and dragged out fresh dry ones to change into.

Loop 2 (North-West)

Loop 2 - looking back towards ridecamp on the dry lake 
(Randsburg is in the mountains on the horizon)

Rather than vet check the horses right when they first come in off the trail (and are adrenaline-filled), vet Dave Nicholson prefers to wait at least 30 minutes or even do your vet check as you're leaving after the hold, which is what we opted to do. 

We were parked just a few feet from the vetting area, so Roo didn't have much chance to warm up after standing for an hour so was a little stiff in the back end, but loosened up quickly enough once we started walking. 

Judy Long on Fadwah's Star - a horse borrowed from Jackie Bumgardner for the event

You'd think that an hour's rest would do a person good, but clambering back into the saddle made for much wincing and sad noises and it took a while for my poor thighs to go numb again and allow me to trot without wishing I wasn't there. I was surprised to find out how bruised I'd gotten from banging into the raised pommel on my saddle - I've never had that problem before and realised that I'd need to do some adjustments if I was going to be able to ride more days. Like I say, I'd expected to feel a little sore during a multi-day ride, but wasn't quite expecting to feel that way half-way through Day 1. <grin>

Loop 2 set off into the hills to the north-west of camp and we climbed gradually before dropping into a big wide open valley. 

Heading towards the water stop 

Above us were some really cool rock outcroppings as we made our way to a water stop. Next to the tubs were some ice frisbees that had been removed by earlier riders - it wasn't exactly balmy warm...ok, so my nose was still running, but we were having fun.

There were caves or tunnels (I'm not sure which) cut into the cliffs perhaps by miners and occasionally we'd come across some kind of unidentifiable mining debris. Further along the trail we were surrounded by gorgeous cliffs of twisted pink and orange striations. 

Nick had warned us about a spot where the trail abruptly disappeared and we'd have to scramble down a high rock shelf, so we approached the narrow gorge with some trepidation.

Brenda and Nick had already started down into the dry whirlpool when a fellow rider pointed out the ribbons routing us up the hillside to the left. Awk. Brenda continued down the wash, but Nick and Princess Don scrambled back out again.

Rocks all around

The ride finished up returning through the same canyon that we'd partially explored the day before - a twisting, fun route winding its way through a narrow-sided rocky wash filled with deep sand and icy rivulets. 

Roop finished in fine shape, finally calming down in the last half-mile (<roll eyes>). He looked and felt really good and I had no worries about him starting the following day. 

It got pretty cold as soon as the sun went down, but by then I had him swathed in a blankie with a cosy fleece cooler underneath, and his legs poulticed and wrapped. He was happily installed in front of two hay bags - beardless wheat and alfalfa, as well as beetpulp/LMF/carrot slurpie laced with electrolytes. I didn't e-lyte him at all during the ride, except in his feed. The grain hay was the big hit this trip, with the alfalfa a surprising distant second.

That evening we had to organize moving our rigs the following day - the finish line would be about 30 miles away by road, and then we'd have to drive another 20 miles north to Valley Wells near Trona to the camp. Brenda's husband Steve very kindly volunteered to be Driver of the Moment by moving four rigs in total - many, many thanks go to him - it was really nice to know that our rigs would be looked after. Couple that with the fact that Brenda and Steve eat like gourmets and fed both me and Nick-n-Judy every night - I was in wonderful hands. Thanks guys!

On to Day 2