Hat
Creek Ride, Near Mount Lassen
21 June 2008
(aka "Lucy's Poorly Leg")
On Midsummer's Day 2008, I was supposed to be at home, saving money. But I'd been in a funk for a couple of weeks, so Patrick suggested that I go to the Hat Creek ride up by Lassen. I ran around frantically all week, getting everything finished up at work so that my plate would be clear enough to take Friday and Monday off (Hat Creek was a two-day ride and if Roo seemed fully recovered from his 100 a month earlier, I planned to do both days).
At ridecamp, I found a nice spot right across from the vet check area where Roo and I would have a fine view of the goings-on, including the start on Saturday morning which in hind-sight maybe wasn't such a great idea.
Mount Lassen Loop 1 (Part 1) - He
was a good boy for tacking up (which I did early), but I'd hand-walked the
first part of the start Friday night and discovered that there was very
little by way of mounting blocks for me to get on from after the start, so I
decided to risk it and get on at the trailer and begin with the pack. 
Whoops, bad idea. Roo immediately got wired up
and was jumping and leaping and threatening to rear. I managed to get him
going in the right direction, but he wouldn't trot out properly, opting to
do up-n-down trot instead which didn't get us anywhere very fast. 
Finally,
along came Farrier Ted and his daughter Jenny and I was able to slot in
behind them and get Roo going in the right direction at a vaguely adult
pace.
The first few miles was straight flat gravel road - not much to dissuade an excited, fit horse that he should conserve energy. But he did settle down after a few miles and was happy enough to go along behind Jenny's horse, Sally. Sally is an old hand at rides, being a ten-year veteran, but because of Jenny's knee injury hadn't been to a ride for a four years.
The trail
slipped from gravel road on to the
Pacific Crest Trail, winding among scrubby, low-lying manzanita, past
volcanic rock formations and a couple of times we peered down into deep
chasms caused by collapsed lava tubes.
The singletrack trail was was super-dusty with hidden rocks for the pones to trip over, so our already sedate pace slowed yet further. The PCT went up a steep ridge revealing amazing views of Mount Lassen to the south and Sugarloaf Peak to the west. We could also see thick thunderclouds all around, although at that stage they were mostly serving to keep the temperatures down by blocking the midsummer sun.
At the top of the ridge, we came to the first vet check which was just a pulse-n-go and trot-by for us 50-milers. We paused for ten minutes or so to let the horses munch on some hay to refuel before setting off on the next 10 mile loop.
Mount Shasta
Loop 2 - From the vet check, we had a bit of cross-country riding, wending our way through redwoods and manzanita bushes before coming out on the long straight road that looped us back around towards Mount Lassen. To the north in the distance we could see Mount Shasta.
Sally led the way and acted as pathfinder, Chantel is a follower by nature so mostly stayed in back, and Roo was content for the most part to let Sally be in charge, but occasionally we'd ride alongside or even up ahead (until it got too much for him and he'd start to spook wildly).
At
one of the gates that needed opening (thanks Jenny and Ted for doing
those) there were some Cows of Death which needed
circumnavigating. Roo's experience with the cow herd at Patriot 100
evidently stood him in good stead as he hardly flinched at all. Further
along the road, he was less impressed by the guy with the chainsaw cutting
firewood, but dealt that that reasonably well too. Being blessed with his
excellent sense of direction, as we turned towards "home" he
started accelerating and we came into the vet check a little fast, hot on
the heels of two horses that had passed us. 
To
my great pleasure, he pulsed down almost immediately and we were able to
vet through within minutes of arrival which surprised me. I think he's
finally figuring out this pulsing down thing. His pace was lousy - too
fast, too slow, too fast, too slow, but at least he pulsed down great.
Loop 1 (Part 2) - He was cheerful enough to lead the way for much of the repeat downhill trail off the ridge and I was able to get hold of Patrick on my cell phone to let him know everything was going well. The return journey seemed to take an age. It was quite humid and shortly after noon we got caught in one of the thunderstorms that had been brewing all morning. A couple of times it absolutely poured on us, but felt good cooling off and rinsing off some of the trail dust. The pones dealt well with the thunder, although it did startle them a little. It turned out later that many of these thunderstorms came with dry lightning which set off over 1,000 wild fires in the mountains of Northern California... it was a bad week for fires and smoke.
We spent more time back on the PCT, trotting speedily through the woods and finally came back to camp around 1:30 pm with only a 15 mile loop left to go. I took Roo to the trailer, stripped tack, rinsed some of the crud off him and took him down to be vetted. He was quite insistent that he needed to roll to get the wet off and I was quite insistent that it wasn't going to happen. His trot-out consisted of him leaping about and trying to canter on the way back. Definitely not tired, that pone. Back at the trailer, Roo wolfed down hay and mash, while I heated water for some thai noodles - I was absolutely starving hungry. It was supposed to be a 30 minute hold, which IMO is by no means long enough to do anything useful, particularly for a tack-off check, so it was all a big rush. We got out of there late at about 2:15 pm.
Loop 3 - The first part of the 15 mile loop was back along the same gravel road as in the morning - not the most interesting part of the trail and the horses really weren't into the whole idea. Sally was lagging and if Sally was lagging, Roo certainly wasn't going anywhere without her, so we made very poor time for the first mile or two.
But no matter, we had until 6 pm to finish the loop, so plenty of time.
Jenny and I rode side by side, chatting merrily
away about past rides and past horses. I was just vaguely starting to form
the thought that we were perhaps "a little too close" when
suddenly 
Sally
whirled her butt towards us and nailed Roo on his flank just in front of his stifle. He
shot sideways across the road right as she lashed out a second time and
caught me at full extension just above my ankle which exploded in
pain.
Jenny hadn't realised Sally had gotten me as well, so was trying to see the extent of the damage to Roo without getting too close while I sat there blankly thinking "-------". Thankfully, my ankle went numb almost immediately. Poor Jenny was so upset by what had happened, but it was entirely my fault - I'd gotten complacent and hadn't recognised the danger of Sally's flying hooves.
Grumpy Sally
With a numb ankle, I rode for a while with my foot dangling out of the stirrup. I figured that although the blow was really going to hurt later on, for now I could just jam my foot into the stirrup and carry on riding. I tried trotting but quickly discovered I couldn't really put any weight on that side and my saddle immediately started to turn. I wondered about riding without stirrups, figuring if we just trotted short distances, I was quite capable of posting without stirrups, but my foot jiggling on the end of my leg was very painful. The small bit of leg showing between sock and tights-leg was turning purple. Hmm. This isn't working out so well. By this time, we'd crawled along another mile and started doing the math... we had another 12 miles to go on this loop and were currently walking at 3 mph... it was past 3 pm... so at the current speed, we would only cover another 9 miles before our time was up. Hmmm. Not promising.
Jenny didn't want to leave us ("for the buzzards" as she put it <grin>), and Chantel with Ted aboard had no intention of leaving Sally, despite a valiant attempt at getting her to go on ahead. Finally I realised just how stupid I was being. Up until then the trail had just been gravel road but we were about to climb onto another ridge and I was going to be in trouble if I got stuck out there. There was no way I could finish on time and my ankle was really starting to hurt pretty badly by now, so I sent a very sad Jenny on with Ted and turned Roo around and headed the three miles back towards camp. He had a brief moment of "but they're going that way...?" before realising that going back was definitely the right direction (i.e. towards camp) and happily set off on his own.
He was a star all the way back, walking briskly, yet smoothly and not spooking or acting like an idiot. My main problem was my foot kept working its way backwards out of the stirrup, so every so often I'd have to lean down to shuffle it back underneath and Roo took me leaning down as a signal that he was supposed to trot. Ack. Eventually I learned to stop him completely before gingerly pushing at the stirrup. Each time I did this, I was sure that it would last all the way back to camp, but after about a quarter mile my foot would have worked its way back out again and I'd have to repeat the painful procedure. I knew if my foot suddenly fell out it of the stirrup, it would really hurt. Those three miles took a very, very long time to ride. Stupidly, I never thought to delve into the supply [very old] vicodan I carry in my painkiller bottle in the saddle for just this purpose. Dumbo.
Back at Camp, the first person I met was Katie Lydon who was drag riding. Katie directed me to "Miles" who was an EMT. At that point, Miles was on an ATV which Roo wasn't keen on going anywhere near, so all I was able to do was tell the ladies at the finish line that I wouldn't be finishing and ride Roo over to the vet area to make sure he was OK. From the little bit of trotting we'd done and from what Jenny could see, I didn't think he had any significant damage, but wasn't able to look at him properly from my vantage point. Dr Dan the vet happened by and checked him out and said it looked to be a minor cut. At that point I explained that I had another problem - I thought I'd broken my ankle and couldn't get off. And burst into tears. <sigh>
Dan gathered Miles and his wife Edith and some other volunteers and they accompanied me back to my trailer and very carefully extracted me off Roo onto a tree stump. Dan took over Roo's care and got him untacked and settled, while Miles started to work on my foot. He cautiously managed to remove my shoe and sock and after admiring the bruising, we had a short conversation about how I could feel things moving around inside (particularly when we were taking my sock off) and agreed that a trip to the hospital in Redding was a good idea. Edith appeared with wrapping materials and did an outstanding wrap job on my ankle, stabilizing the whole thing and compressing it to stop further swelling. She made me promise I wouldn't walk on my leg - a promise that wasn't hard to keep as I couldn't put any weight on it at all.
I was carried to another volunteer, Valerie's, truck and installed in the back seat with pillows and she drove me down to Mercy Medical Hospital in Redding. During the hour-long journey down the hill I was able to get hold of Patrick on the phone. "Are you done?" he asked cheerfully... "Well, that depends how you look at it... Sorry Patrick, can you come up and get Roo and me - I think I broke my right leg so I can't drive."
Redding - Thankfully, there weren't too many immediate casualties in the ER, so after everyone admired Edith's wrap job, I was seen relatively quickly, x-rayed and they discovered, yup, it's broken. The doctor there said it was a clean break and was nicely aligned (and I was thankful I hadn't been stupid enough to try and finish the loop, thereby completely mangling the area). They shot me full of pain-killers (very effective, unless you want to be able to do anything useful) and set to work on splinting me up. They made a really good effort to avoid slicing up my electric blue riding tights, but the area was too painful to work them over, so in the end we settled for him cutting carefully along the seam and then only as far as the knee and peeling them off over my wrap. By 9 pm I was cleaned up, strapped up, and tripping merrily away. Patrick and Ann who'd volunteered to drive up and rescue me were still at least two hours away, but instead of turfing me out into the waiting area, they didn't need my bed, so someone turned the lights off and I slept for a few hours.
Patrick and Ann brought me back to camp at around 1 am (Roo was fast asleep, tucked up next to a big hay bag) and Patrick carried me to the trailer and managed to get me up in the gooseneck bed and into a drugged sleep.
In the morning we had a steady stream of visitors who told of how Roo was watched and pampered and well looked after in my absence. Dr Dan was so attentive that at one point they needed him for a colicky horse and couldn't figure out where he'd disappeared to - until someone guessed he was walking Roo again. There was some consternation that Roo had gotten loose because people kept showing up to attend to him and he'd already be out on a jaunt around camp. It was really nice knowing he was in such good hands while I was incapacitated.
