Provo and I Run with the Big Kids

Comstock 50 - 3 October 1998

Me and Provo on the left, Karen and Weaver on the right.

Provo was in such good shape after 30 miles (read: didn't actually notice he'd done anything), that I decided to keep the ball rolling and packed us up and took us over the mountains to Nevada to do the Comstock ride this last weekend.

The main driving force behind this decision, was the lure that I could ride with Karen Chaton and Weaver. This was to be Weaver's 1000th mile in competition this year, and Karen wanted to ride the 50 reeeeallllyy slooooowly, just to make sure nothing untoward would happen along the way. As a result, I knew that this might be the only chance I ever got to ride with her and Weaver (well, certainly for a few years, anyway ;-), so I ought to go for it while I could.

She'd told me that it was an easy ride and that we'd be fine to do it. And she was right.

This time I couldn't persuade Patrick to come with me - there's only so much enthusiasm one can drum up for standing around
in the cold for hours on end, waiting for me and the pony to reappear; but he says he'll come on other, warmer, more interesting rides. No surprises there. Although I really can't understand it myself. Standing in the NV wind...in the drizzle...waiting...what could be more fun?

So we went on our own. It took us about 2 and 3/4 hours to get over to Reno - it's a straight freeway drive, except that we go up over Donner Pass (7300 ft) to get there. The drive is just beautiful (I'm sure Provo thought so) and it was nice and sunny. Hah.

Once at the ridecamp (Lemmon Valley horseman's arena just north of Reno), we squeezed in next to Karen and Dave's palatial trailer, where Weaver was already happily ensconced in his corral. Provo got to be tied to the trailer, with a hay bag, so he didn't care.

They told me that it wasn't really windy, not by NV standards, anyway. Only when it goes up over 40mph are you allowed to call it windy. I wiped the grit out of my eyes for the fifty-eighth time.

I slept in the truck cab, which is actually more comfy than it sounds. About 5:45 I had this wonderful dream that it was really 3am and not time to get up for hours...and then Karen woke me up.

There was ice on the windscreen and a nice frosting on all my people-stuff in the truck bed. And I forgot to take along a stirring stick for Provo's beetpulp/COB mix.

Hint #1: when in NV, always assume you will *not* want to hand mix beetpulp and freezing water. If you do, your hands will not warm up for hours.

Thought #1: Buy a huge water cooler and fill it up with roasting water the day before, so that any water dispensed will at least be lukewarm the following day.

I move very slowly in the mornings (read: dysfunctional) - this is where the lack of "crew" (Patrick) *really* shows up, and despite the coffee laid on by ride management, I still wasn't really with it. So I was kind of late... the ride started at 7:30, and by 7:15, all Provo had on was a pair of interference boots (I, on the other hand, had managed to swallow a whole half banana! Major achievement).

And then the late arrivals started arriving in trailers. Provo thought that most interesting, "Look Mum, lots of exciting things happening!" and he started to do his "thing" - where he turns back and forth, back and forth, making it virtually impossible to put any tack on him. We finally struggled into his clothes, and I hand-scurried him, following Karen calmly mounted on Weaver, to the start line. Provo was already jigging and I wasn't even on him yet. Sigh.

So we walked out. After a few 100 yrds, Karen suggested that maybe I could get on? I would have loved to, but as I explained to her, the main problem was that I couldn't get him to stand still long enough to get the cinch tight enough for me to attempt mounting.

Another 100 yrds passed and Karen suggested once again "how 'bout getting on?" Nope. Still haven't got that cinch yet... sigh. I'm sure she must have thought that we were going to hand-walk (read: hand-leap-and-bound) the first five miles.

But eventually, after losing my temper with him (and getting his attention for a split second), I managed to get it done and got on. Off we went.

Normally we ride in the woods, so other horses disappear from sight relatively quickly. But this was NV, where they stay within sight for miles and miles. And Provo thought that was a fine thing.

"Look Mum, horses! [the front runners - several miles away]. We'd better catch them!"

Sigh.

So Weaver trotted happily and Provo cantered excitedly next to him, but we kind of stayed under control. We even managed to walk a few times, but it was kind of hard keeping him calm. Everytime we managed to get a little settled, some rider who'd left even later than us would trot calmly past on their horse. And Provo would renew his enthusiasm for conquering the world. So we'd trot (well, Weaver would trot, Provo'd canter) along, trying not to catch up with whoever had just passed us.

About three miles in, I began to wish for painkillers... neatly stashed in my Camelbak... on my back... completely out of reach when you need two hands to ride the horse (I had decided they were better stashed on me, than on the horse, for when I fell off and broke my leg and Provo ran off without me. Patrick tells me that if I fell off and broke my leg, painkillers wouldn't be much help).

Thought #2: Next time, take two lots of pain killers - stash one set in Camelbak *and* the other in the pommel bag within easy reach.

Karen dredged up an Orudis (don't know what those are, but it was blue, and only a bit crumbled around the edges, and didn't have much fluff on it) which I gobbled down, thinking to myself that things were going badly if I was already on the painkillers by mile three...

We came to a water trough. It was kind of boggy around the trough and there were two riders hogging the non-boggy side. Neither of their horses was drinking, or showing signs of being interested in drinking. But they seemed to be happily resting there. The woman announced that her horse never drank until it was thirsty. Karen and I wondered why they didn't move out the way, then?

Eventually they left and our horses got to sip a little water. Miraculously, Provo didn't seem to think he had to leave with them.

Karen had been riding with her heart monitor - but was happy with the way Weaver was moving out (trotting along at 82 bpm to our canter), so she hopped off and rigged it up on us. Now that was interesting - I've never ridden with a heart monitor before, so it was fascinating to see what Provo was actually doing when he was leaping about. It demonstrates how unsettled he really was, with the rate moving around wildly, until later in the ride, when he began to settle and everything got more consistent. I was super happy to see him trotting at 85 by about mile 47. Perhaps he'd finally figured it out...?

We went up a hill. It got windier. Clouds came. It began to drizzle. Karen was the one who graciously hopped off and opened gates when we came to cattle grids (probably thought if she let me get off and open them, she'd have to wait endlessly for me to haul myself back on again... and Provo's only 14:3... he just feels tall).

We went down the hill and stretched in front of us was a big plain. We could see some horses miles in front of us, and when we got to the bottom, the footing was so nice, we cantered across most of it (this was once we'd had a carrot break, and I got to eat some fluffy Cliff bar I found in my pocket. Didn't fancy all of it, so I offered it to Provo. He slurped on it, but didn't want it either). And we finally came to the half way mark - a man with a water trough, and melon and muffins. I got to watch the heart rate monitor and see Provo come down within minutes. The ponies slurped. Lucy munched a whole piece of melon. Karen managed to narrowly miss dropping her helmet in the trough (how we would have laughed... not) and off we set again.

By this time the weather was nasty. I had an uneasy feeling that we were supposed to go up over some of the mountains ahead of us, but at the last minute the trail took a turn, and instead we found ourselves on a very dull, straight, dirt road. We must have stayed on this road for miles and miles (or so it seemed). It was pretty dull. Hard enough that it was not too comfortable to trot on. It went up a hill, and then, even more dull, went down a really looooong hill. Not very steep, but even harder footing and *really* uncomfortable to trot on. So we got off and walked down it. I saw a dead snake (highlight of that portion of the trail - just to show you how dull it was).

Then we were back in the valley again, back on the nice sandy soft, but not deep, footing, and off we went. Karen put Weaver on his rope halter, and we scootled along. Weaver rewarded her by spooking at gates, and trail marker ribbons, and yellow flowers.  Provo dutifully spooked too, not knowing why, but I'd told him to learn from Weaver-the-wise-one ..."do as he does, Provo..."  Spook, lurch, canter, canter, spook, lurch, canter, canter...

Back at camp for the hour lunch hold, Mr vet complimented me on Provo's state of wellbeing and gave him a bunch of AAAs. I was super proud of him. He'd settled. He'd trotted. He'd P&Red nicely. He hadn't stood on anyone.

After lunch, we set out the same way as at the start. I led Provo along - this time him ambling along contentedly, until we got to the gate and then he stopped dead, as if to say:

"er... I thought we were done... just going for a walk around... er... didn't we do this already today?"

But he perked up and we trundled along. I still haven't decided if he just needs to develop more trotting muscles, or whether he just likes to canter, but he'll happily canter next to Weaver-at-a-trot. As he gets a little tired, he starts thinking about trotting more, but seems most comfortable, at this point, cantering.

We walked some and chatted with some other people on the trail. We got our photo taken (yay), and then we went up on a ridge. It was quite glorious. Whoever said NV rides are flat and dull, this one wasn't. We could see pink NV mountains for miles and miles all around us. We were looking down on Reno valley spread out before us. Wonderful stuff.

And then we fell off the edge of the ridge. I now see one of the reasons Weaver does so well - he's really good at downhill stuff. This was very steep and rocky. Provo decided this was a good place to pee (sigh), so I took the opportunity to get off and followed him down the mountain - I wasn't too comfortable leading him in front. Tailing reins are good.

At the bottom, I scrabbled back on again, and we set off in a sand wash in the deep V of two mountains. It was twisty and fun. And I was glad Weaver was in front, demonstrating that horses can go this speed over that type of terrain.

Thought #3: we need to do *lots* more work trotting downhill and negotiating bad footing. Without this skill, it'll be impossible to finish a 50 under time, if it's the type of hilly ride I hope to be doing in the future.

Eventually we came to the halfway mark - a trough with no water in it. This was kind of sad, and a problem, Karen tells me, if you're riding at the back of the pack. The ponies squabbled over the last dribble in the bottom of the trough and we sadly left the trough behind. What we didn't realise until we got to it, was that 200 yrds down the trail was a lake-sized puddle. The ponies perked right up and drank deeply.

Weaver had been munching almost the whole time we were on the trail, but Provo hadn't figured out that that brown stuff was worth bothering with. As far as we could tell, Weaver thought we were doing a 100 - what with us riding so slowly - so was settling in for the duration and snacking at every opportunity.

We were four miles from the second vet check, and back down on the flat, soft footing, so we scootled across the plain, with the wind whistling and tearing my eyes. I don't know how long it took us, but it seemed to over with in a flash. And we were at the check. There was a sign a quarter mile out, so we were off and walking, and they were down by the time we got there. Again we vetted through with lots of AAAs, but one B- on hydration - hardly surprising, when the only water we'd seen on this 20 mile loop had been 3-4 miles before. But the ponies drank well, and we settled in for 20 minutes while they feasted on a bale of hay provided by the management. The sun shone. And I got to eat a bag of crisps (potato chips, for you Americans) and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich provided by ride management.

It was good.

And then off we went again for the final four miles. I was kind of convinced that we were going to trip and do a face plant and ruin everything, but instead the miles just zoomed by - I couldn't believe how good Provo felt (still cantering and trotting cheerily) and even more amazing, how good I felt. I was tired, my knees were sore, and my back was well-pulled from Provo's antics in the morning, but I could have still gone another five miles by the time we reached the finish... and then maybe another five miles after that (yes, Lucy, and how exactly would you have been able to walk the next week?).

We even overtook two horses just before the finish... those same people who'd been hogging the trough at the beginning of the ride.

Karen's husband was at the finish with blankets for us, and we got to remove tack and dump it in the back of their truck. He's a most excellent crew person - please remember to thank him for me, Karen, for getting me water in my big bucket, and waiting endlessly for us with the blankets.

Again, we vetted through excellently. More AAAs, but with a B on gut sounds... really have to explain to Provo about NV desert grass. I was soooo proud of him. Such a good mellow pony (compared to the crazed beast I'd started out on). He got to go back to his "space" and eat to his heart's content and dose in the sunshine.

An excellent ride. Now I can put him away for the winter (not really) and plan our strategy... actually, now I have a good idea about what we have to work on, and continue to work abit on our speed. It felt like we were racing the whole day, but we actually completed with a ride time of about 8:10, which isn't going to be much good if we're riding on anything that isn't flat good footing, as most of this ride was.

Many thanks to the ride people for providing munchies before, during, and after the ride.