The truth is, the Mt. Adams ride is already fading from my
mind. I think that’s how it is supposed to work when they go really well. You
ride your ride, and there’s no need to obsess afterward!
I’m not a big worrier anyway, FYI. I’m one of those who errs
on over-preparation right up until the point where push comes to shove. Then,
if I want to do something badly enough, I’ll just wing it. Hence, our chaotic ride
at Grizzly.
Mt. Adams is my favorite ride. That’s hard to say, because
there are so many excellent rides up here in the NW. And this year, I’m going
to be trying some new ones. But for now, as of today, Mt. Adams is my favorite
ride, and has held that position since the first time I did it. (Lo, those many
years ago, with Topper.)
Since it’s my favorite ride, I make a point of going
regardless of what it does to my work/life schedule. This year, I was
especially determined to go because my Walla Walla friends (Laurie, Heather and
Hope) would be there. I miss those ladies so much it makes me crazy sometimes.
I made a really lazy start on my trip Friday morning—slept
late, took a luxurious shower, gradually pulled my stuff together. Brian came
home after an early-morning staff meeting to see me off. Unfortunately, he was
determined to make it to his 11 a.m. Kempo class, but also determined to watch
me leave for the ride. This meant that he started “helping” me pack, and rushed
me through the part of the packing process where I wander the house randomly
opening closets and seeing if I need to take anything from them. So yeah, totally forgot the camp chairs and my
PNER officer jacket. Ooopsy!
It was after 11 when I got out to Abiqua to pick up Blue.
Again, I lazily loaded up my stuff. There wasn’t anyone out there to rush me.
So here’s another one of those subtle differences between
Walla Walla and Salem. Driving to Mt. Adams from Walla involved a lot of very
easy driving on empty freeway with lots of places to stop. Driving up from
Salem involves fighting traffic along the winding two-lane highway that goes from
Silverton to Oregon city, then fighting bizarre mid-day Portland traffic on
I-205, then coming back out onto the busiest stretch of I-84, then choosing
between two narrow, grated bridges over the Columbia… anyway, it isn’t the same
relaxing, soul-replenishing drive as it was from Walla. (Have I ever mentioned
how much I enjoy a long, solitary drive on an empty highway? Too late now.)
Once across the Columbia (I took the Bridge of the Gods at
Cascade Locks), I had about 20 miles of bendy, tunneled highway 14 to take
before the turn north to Trout Lake. I wouldn’t bother mentioning this except
that I fell in behind a rig I recognized. Monica and Cathy were going nice and
slow, and since they were in front of me, setting the pace, I didn’t have to
feel guilty about the line of cars behind us. :)
Also, it’s just fun to have been doing this long enough to know people and rigs
by sight. (It’s the little things, guys!)
We pulled into camp, and boy were we in for a surprise. The
field was PACKED. I did this ride last year during the EHV scare, and we parked
right next to the gate. This year, I had to drive through a virtual horse
trailer city to find a place big enough for me to park and save room for Laurie’s
rig too. I was lucky that it just happened to be relatively close to a potty
and a water trough. Darlene even said in the ride meeting that she though they
were nuts to put a potty so far down the field. Little did she know…
I called Heather to let the Walla contingent know that I had
saved them a spot, and to warn them how full the field was. I didn’t want them
to get discouraged on the quarter-mile drive down camp looking for my little
setup. :)
One of the nice things about living closer and arriving
relatively early is having time to set up in daylight and really think out the
shape of your camp. The whole field was full of lush, green grass, so I set up
Blue’s pen as fast as I could. He was a grazing machine, which was fine with
me. As long as he’s eating, he gets into minimal mischief. That makes it less
scary to leave him alone in camp while I register and get my vet card.
Oh, the line at registration. And the line to vet in. Such
lines! I bet I waited at least half an hour to register. Honestly, that minor
annoyance was drowned out by how happy I was for RM Darlene and PNER as a
whole. A well-attended ride has a much better chance of being financially
stable and coming back year after year. Standing in long lines is a good omen
for the sport.
I went back for Blue and vetted in with Dr. Jen (again,
wonderful to start “knowing” all the people at a ride). Blue pulsed at 40,
which is pretty typical for him. He was all A’s down the card except for an A-
on guts (fair enough, he didn’t touch his food in the trailer) and an A- on
skin tenting. This is something that I’m not sure how to deal with. Blue has a
lot of excess skin on his neck/chest. Like some mustangs, he has something
almost like a borderline dewlap, and always looks wrinkled compared to every
other horse I’ve ever owned. Is that something I can reasonably bring up with
vets? I could bring pics that show he’s like that all the time regardless of
stress, feeding, hydration and exercise level. He’s like the equine equivalent
of a shar pei. Would it make a difference if the vets knew that, or are they
seeing something in the tenting that I’m not seeing?
Anyway, it’s not like an A- is a bad score. Not obsessing.
Not obsessing. Not obsessing.
As long as we were all the way over at the vet check, I
figured I might as well take Blue up to see the start. This Mt. Adams camp is
the “alternate” ride camp. In a normal (i.e., dry) year, camp is up at a forest
service (?) horse camp a couple miles up the road. Since this alternate camp is
on a private ranch, the start has to be controlled. The first quarter mile is
pavement, including a bridge over a raging mountain creek. Coming back into
camp, that’s great. It is the perfect excuse to dismount and let your horse
pulse down as you walk the last little bit. Going out, it is a nightmare
scenario, where amped-up horses slide around on pavement, spooking and jigging
their way up to the trailhead. I wanted Blue to see it so he’d understand. We
walked the paved part and maybe a half-mile into the trail. I didn’t want to
see too much of it and psych myself out. I just wanted to know what we’d be up
against.
But Ruth, you’ve ridden that trail before! Surely you
remember how the beginning of the trail looks! Well, no. I rode it on Otto last
year, and it was, at best, a blur… and at worst a sort of slasher flick montage
of holding on for dear life. Riding that horse through a start scared the poop
out of me. Make no mistake.
Walked back down to camp and met Laurie coming up to
register. Hugs all around. They found the parking spot I saved for them and
everybody was unloading and getting settled. I helped as much as I could while
still getting my own stuff set up. After the WW people were registered and
vetted, Heather, Hope and I took our horses up to look at the start again.
By the time we got back, it was getting on toward evening,
so we had a little light supper and then gathered up our stuff for the ride
meeting. It was already getting chilly, and I began to worry about the long,
cold night ahead. I began to worry a bit more when Darlene announced that there
were 70-plus riders in the LD. A murmur went up in the crowd.
I guess everyone else, like me, had been hoping that those
long lines of people were all doing 50s. No such luck.
Heather, Laurie and I talked quite a bit about how we might
deal with this scenario. They decided that since they were both on
exceptionally fast horses, their best bet was to start right at the front and
just try to stay there.
Before I knew how many riders there would be, I was planning
to hang back and turtle again like at Grizzly. With 75 riders, many of them
newbies who would likely bolt the start and fizzle the end, that wouldn’t be
the best option for Blue. What we needed was to find a comfortable gap in the middle
of the pack and ride in a bubble as much as possible. We had to do as everyone
always says and “ride our own ride.” I crawled into my sleeping-bag-and-blanket cocoon
still pondering how I might make that happen. Yes, indeed, this was going to be
a challenge.
although hotr is my favorite ride, mt adams is the best place i've ever ridden. in my region of germany a typical endurance ride is 1/3 pavement (and they go fast on it because it's what they train on). i hope you got some nice photos of mt adams!
ReplyDeleteCan't wait to hear the next installment!
ReplyDeleteI don't think I'd worry the skin tenting at all. There are no prizes for vet card GPA's. ;) He's not going to get pulled on skin tenting unless he's really marginal on all the other hydration parameters - I just don't think an A- for one marker really matters. :)
What lytha said. Also, what Funder said.
ReplyDeleteAs for me: "come to Renegade this year!!!!"