Day 2
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Despite
being really tired, throughout the night I kept waking up at
regular intervals with aches and pains. I hoped Roo was more
comfortable than I was. :-(
When I started to saddle him up the next morning, I'd expected him to give me a dirty look, but he was surprisingly happy and looking eager for the day ahead. Too strange.
Again the temperature was in the 20s, so I had to tack him up like a magician - exposing various parts while keeping the rest covered by strategically-placed blankets. Thank goodness for rump rugs.
Even though it would have been better to keep his Skito pad in the heated living area overnight (the pad has foam inserts that feel like sheetrock in cold weather and take forever to warm up and shape to the horse), I had it so nicely centered and positioned under the saddle that I was unwilling to separate them. I've had problems in the past getting the pad centered and it getting rucked up and rubbing. So poor Roo got a pile of lumpy saddling material plopped on his back every morning and I'd have to wait 30 minutes or so before the pad was sufficiently warm and smooshed down that I could finally get the girth tightened properly.
The night before, I'd put the front bolster back in my saddle - it sits just behind the pommel and raises me up just enough that I'm not banging into it - and as soon as I mounted up the next morning, I knew that minor adjustment was going to make all the difference. I also put on my self-designed, self-made shipping-boot-alike leg wraps to protect against rubs.
Roo
was showing no signs of soreness at all as we set off - quite the
opposite. It was going to be another interesting day playing
battle of wills <sigh>.
We circumnavigated the dry lake before once again heading north through the narrow rocky wash we came in on the afternoon before. The morning's trail was really fun - following multiple dry washes wending their through the hills. We crossed slickrock, passed weird holes scoured in the sandstone rock, and trudged through sections of deep sand.
We had a water stop/trot by at about 13 miles and once again Roo got to snarfle in a ziploc baggie of LMF and carrots while I cleaned out his splint boots (I'm prone to forgetting to do this, so I was quite pleased with myself, especially as they were always filled with a healthy sampling of grit).
We
got a little left behind at this point and while hurrying to catch
up with the others, something funky started to happen to my
saddle: there was a big lump under me, and it took me a little
while to figure out that my sheepskin saddle
cover had come untied on one side and the whole thing was rucking
up under my butt. Ack. We continued 
to
catch up (Roo thought this was most entertaining) while I scanned
the trail for suitable mounting rocks - I ride with my girth
sufficiently loose that it's almost impossible to remount without
some handy rock or mound of dirt.
Within minutes of sorting that out and catching up with the others, we got to one of the more spectacular sections of rock for that day and slowed to a crawl. And as soon as we got off that section, we were back in deep sand. Not much opportunity to make up time unless you wanted to tweak something on your horse.
(Apparently
we were following the same trail as is used for 20 Mule Team 100.)
The
lunch stop was right where we crossed over hw-395 again. One of
the nice things about this ride was the catered lunches - instant
noodles (who knew they would taste so
good on a cold day?), tea, 
candy,
fruit. Much more appealing than the usual
smooshed fair you extract out of your crew bag.
The pones all tucked into the wheat hay we'd sent along - again, the alfalfa got the thumbs down. We made up multiple pans of goodies, but the horses always wanted to eat each other's - witness this photo where Roo is eating Special's, Special is eating Don's and Don is eating Roo's pan.
After lunch we ended up in an off-road vehicle area named College Heights, south of Ridgecrest. We did meet a few dirt bikes and ATVs and although Roo was a little nervous about them, we were able to hide behind Judy and Star for protection.
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There were great
panorama views from
up here, especially looking north-west to the Sierra.
College Heights has multiple weathered boulders jutting out of the ground... no trees up here, but the rocks are pretty good. I was glad it was mid-winter, not high-summer, as I can only imagine how hot it must get out here in the middle of the year.
Coming out of the hills, I slowed Roo considerably - I didn't want him running downhill in the sand, and frankly my legs weren't too amused by the idea either. So we let the others go on ahead (much to Roo's dismay) and walked on down. I figured it was about time for Roo to have a bit of non-joined-at-the-hip practice anyway. Of course, it felt like riding a bouncing ball under high-pressure, ready to pop at any moment, but he managed to keep it together, only spooking a couple of times at old pieces of metal and having to sidle past a dead tent caught in a mesquite bush.
We passed another water stop (ride management did great at providing water at all sorts of peculiar locations in the middle of nowhere), catching up with the others and I offered Roo some carrots, which he wasn't interested in - time for him to slow down a little, so we all got off and walked for a while, which helped our knees as well.
From here on was probably the dullest part of the whole week, trail-wise. It was a totally flat, totally straight sandy track that went for miles and miles - causing much pain and teeth-gritting to Judy and me. I was suffering from battered legs, tweaked back, sore pectorals, and even had a pulled muscle under my arm from goodness knows what, while Judy was being tormented by Monkey Butt from riding in the strange saddle and dealing with Star's enormously bouncy stride. We were definitely heading into "Pathetic Rider" territory.
The
only diversion was provided by passing the BLM corrals where
wild-caught mustangs and burros were being held, pending adoption.
We slowed to a walk and window-shopped the mustangs. There were
many pregnant females in the herd and we noticed two dead coyotes
under a bush near the compound - I'm guessing they must have been harassing
the livestock.
Towards the end of the trail, Judy and I finally gave in to our pain and suggested that Nick and Brenda went on ahead without us, since they were still feeling so healthy. We alternated between walking and trotting short stretches - f'instance "we'll just trot to the second power pole then walk for three power poles". It was great relief when the rigs parked by the side of the road came into view and we were finally done. I'd say that was the lowest point of the week. Sore bodies and draggy spirits.
Roo was starving hungry and dove into his hay bag when we reached the trailer. He was definitely tired from all the sand and continuous trotting, and I noticed he was pointing his right rear foot a little oddly - we were both feeling a little overdone. |
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Steve and
Brendy replacing Special's Hoof-It that had disintegrated
out of his foot.
Don munches nearby in his fancy blankie. |
After letting Roo munch for a while, we popped the horses in the trailers and drove the 20 miles north to Valley Wells for the overnight camp. Once again, I was able to park so that Roo and Special were on the same side and felt nice and safe, and large amounts of hay were consumed overnight.
Despite being dog-tired, I opted to set up my little propane shower in the back of the trailer to get rid of some of the trail grime and it felt really good (even though I froze when I finally had to turn off the scalding-hot water and scuttle back to the "heated" [kinda] end of the trailer).
At the ride meeting, Dave Nicholson told us the frustrating news that there wasn't a single ribbon still up within a two mile radius of camp - someone had been out pulling ribbons to sabotage the trail. He said that in all the years of putting on rides, this was the first time he'd ever seriously considered cancelling a ride. Despite this, he thought that they could probably get enough ribbons up for the next day, but because of the extra manpower needed, he wasn't sure if they would be able to get out all the water they had planned. He warned that we should ride accordingly and not assume that there would be vast amounts of water available on the trail.
In the morning, the rigs would once again be moved - by the long-suffering Steve - the 30 miles up to Indian Ranch, and we had to leave our camp scrupulously clean or else risk losing that location so there was lots of poop-scooping going on. Since once again I'd have to have everything put away and ready to move for Steve, I was very glad that Roo's living area consists of a Spring-Tie, a bushel bucket for water, a feed bucket and two hay bags - not too much work to get all that put up.
On to Day 3