Caffeine, an Endurance Rider's Best Friend

Ever start a ride out without caffeine?  Once on the Swanton 100, my new cigarette lighter powered coffee maker refused to work, and I mounted my horse caffeine-less, and instructed him to do the driving until I woke up.  He had done the ride before, luckily, so it was no problem for him.  

As I approached to first stop at about 30 miles I realized that if I didn't find a form of caffeine at this stop I was going to be in big trouble due to caffeine addiction.  I wouldn't just get a headache, I was in danger of getting a migraine.  As if endurance riding wasn't hard enough, that kind of pain would be a deal breaker.  

So I mention this to a rider who was trotting along beside me, and she said, "oh, I have just the thing for you!"  and pulled out a double caffeine Powergel packet.  She said, take this, it'll straighten you right out".  These things are designed to hit your bloodstream in 10 minutes and give you instant energy.  I downed it and literally, ten minutes later I went BING!! my head popped up, and I was a new person!  They weren't kidding.  So I've been using them ever since (another brand is called GU) both before, and in the latter parts of the ride to stay awake.  

Since I've done the Swanton 100 so many times I have more stories from that one too.  One year it was the Arabian National Championship run in conjunction with the regular ride.  So I was running in the top ten and I and ......another top rider were going along on a single track trail on a ridge top spine with drop offs on both sides.  Suddenly we came upon a small rattlesnake in the middle of the trail.  It wouldn't move.  There was no room to go around it.  So she leaped off, grabbed a bunch of gravel and started pelting it until it moved off the trail.  I thought, I'm sticking with her!  

Then we approached the dreaded Slippery Creek, just as it was starting to get dark.  It is a 2' deep creek lined with algae coated rock.  We were told to cross it very carefully.  So we tip toed across it and upon reaching the other side I noticed what looked like a foot wide pool of blood on the bank.  I pointed this out to .... and she freaked out.  Then there was a blood trail leading away from it down the path.  The puddle was thick and coagulated and right out of a horror movie.  More specifically, from "The Blair Witch Project" which I had just seen!  We were both totally creeped out as we continued down the trail following the blood drips and wondering what we were going to encounter.  I was on the lookout for pentagrams made of sticks hanging in the trees.

Finally we caught up to Mike Tracy and his famous horse Moon, both stumbling along with heads low.  Apparently he had not been careful crossing the creek, Moon fell, thrashed around, got pulled out finally by Mike and had a blood spurting heel where he had stepped on himself.  Mike said he had tried everything to stave off the blood flow, nothing was working, and he finally just took his gum out and stuffed it in the hole, wrapped something around it and stopped the blood.  So I tossed him a roll of vet wrap and we assured him we would send word at the first opportunity that he needed a trailer ride out.  The road crossing wasn't too far off and we met someone there who radioed for help.  

Mike was in line for the 1/2 Arabian Championship when this happened, so it was a big disappointment.  Moon healed up just fine, though.  We both went on to top ten, but still shook up from seeing all that blood, but no pentagrams, thankfully.  

 

2nd Post: Does an Endurance Rider Pee in the Woods?

Yes, I Have Stories about Peeing Too 

OK, so we all know that Peeing in the woods is an inconvenient necessity of endurance riding.  I've even heard people complain how riders lose all sense of modesty in the heat (literally) of competition.  When ya gotta go, ya gotta go.  If you've done the Tevis, you know that the California Loop, which isn't a loop at all, but a long stretch between 70 miles out, to 85 miles, that seems much longer and harder than it is, due to the collective fatigue of having done all three deep canyons, and pretty much the worst part of the ride up until then.  It's where tired riders fall asleep on their horses and slide off, or worse, where a few unlucky horses have gone over the side and down the canyon.  Most survive but a couple have not.  

I was making good time along this one year, in the daylight mostly, with two well known riders, Nick Warhol and Karen Chaton.  So we stopped occasionally at creek crossings to water the horses, and of course to pee.  The first time we both asked Nick to "turn around!" while we squatted on the trail.  At the second stop, Nick was ahead of us and said, "turn around!" to Karen and  I.  I looked at  him slightly uphill from us on the trail and said, "No!, you just turn around!  Your outnumbered!"  And he chuckled foolishly and did.  

But the best one I've heard was at the Oakland Hills 50 in N. California.  A group of ladies who were all friends, were all riding the ride together.  They decided at one point to stop and take a community pee as girls are wont to do, whether in public restrooms or outdoors, as in this case.  So they all stopped in the wide trail, got off, and with the horses on the outside of the circle, got in a group, all holding their reins and had a group squat.  As they were all happily peeing away, one of the horses started down the trail towards camp, apparently loose because the owner thought someone else was holding him.  With that, she stood up, tights at her ankles, and started penguin walking as fast as she could after her horse, bare, tattooed butt jiggling as she ran!  Needless to say, around the campfire that night, they all couldn't stop laughing about it.  

But I have one more.  This is with a very well know woman, who was a two term president of AERC, who won a bronze medal at age 60 in Barcelona, Spain.  None other than Maggie Price!  She was a character with a southern drawl, and a top rider who had fun.  When I met her, she was out West on an extended trip from one ride to another hitting the Race of Champions, the Tevis, and a bunch of 50's.  I met her at Drakesbay, which happened to be the first 50 I ever did at Pt. Reyes Seashore in the 70's, a ride we all sorely miss. 

She got out a bunch of photos from all her rides, after inviting me over for grits and breakfast the day after the ride.  I'm looking through them and she's describing where she was, when I notice one of her holding her reins out on the trail next to her horse, smiling away, in that familiar squat position.  I wouldn't have thought anything about it, it just looked like she was resting, until I noticed the  little stream  between her legs.  I said, "Maggie, look at this!"  Her jaw dropped and she yelled, "OK who took this??!"  

1st Post:

Does an Endurance Rider Pee in the Woods?

I've decided to start telling my collection of stories from 4000 Miles of endurance riding, beginning in the late 70's,  Some are pretty funny.  I'd like to focus mainly on those, but there will be lessons taught too.   Below is a shot from my 10th Tevis ride on Shatir, also ridden mostly bridleless in a Linda Tellington Jones neck ring.

So here goes:

'94 Tevis Cup

Tenth Tevis, Backwards 

So, some of you might know that I've done many Tevis Cup rides.  I've been one of the lucky ones and have only been pulled twice.  So they racked up and I got my 1000 mile buckle without going too broke in the process.  So I start out this one, my tenth, my 1000 mile buckle ride, with minimal crew, meeting me only at Foresthill.  I plan for this and have all I need for the Robinson Flat stop, except of course the ride provided hay, on my saddle,.  

As has been my habit over the years, and not being a morning person, I get into my whole riding outfit the night before.  In fact I do as much as possible, setting things up the night before so I can do as little as possible as a walking zombie in the morning.  Every single thing is packed on my saddle, water, everything, my morning protein smoothie is waiting in the cooler, its set up for like, as if a blind person had to get mounted and get to the starting line on time. 

So all goes well, I get to the stating line, set out with the 200 horse herd for Squaw Valley, go over Emigrant Peak, wave at Cowman at Watson's monument, and get halfway to Robinson Flat at 36 miles before finally looking down and realizing with horror in the dawn light, that my tights are on backwards and the seat padding is now fully visible to all in the front of my pants.  

Presently, long time rider, Gloria Vanderford catches up beside me, and I relate to her what I'd done.  She said, "that's nothing, I once got changed in the small change room in the horse trailer, put on my running shoes, got in the saddle and took off, only to look down miles later and find that the "funny feeling" I had in my feet was because my shoes were on the wrong feet!  I just thought my orthotics were in wrong, but noooo!  Better believe I got off at the first opportunity and switched them, but fast! So now I didn't feel so bad!  But I got to Robinson, smiled a lot at the time card givers, P&R people, etc. hoping they wouldn't notice my backwards pants, or just looking like I didn't care if they did, until finally ducking into an outhouse to turn them around!  So I crossed the finish line with my padding in the right place and got my 1000 Mile Buckle!   

Now that I think of it, I bet there's lots of stories out there about riding outfits gone wrong, wardrobe failure, even.  Some of you in the Pacific Northwest may have read one rider's account of severe outfit failure if you read "The Prineville Wreck".  One of the funniest ride stories ever.  No one got seriously hurt, mostly annoyed and embarrassed.  Anyone remember who wrote it?  Amber something?  Let me know if this rings a bell.  Its a good one.

Stories From My Life

Pozo, California 1980

I drove my '72 Super Beetle back down 101 from the SF Bay Area one summer, to a tiny  town north of San Luis Obispo to meet Bob, my boyfriend at the time.   He was working in Pozo, the nearest town to the huge ranch where he'd gotten a summer job.  We were both on summer break from Cal Poly, SLO.  

I got there after a 20 mile back roads journey east of the highway, which ended with about 8 miles of dirt road, including a bridge over a big creek, with no rails.  Downtown Pozo consisted only of a post office and a saloon.  I was to meet him in the latter.  I got there in the dark and walked in, 21 years old, trim and busty, and literally all eyes in the place were on me as soon as I walked in.  All male. They were hungry eyes!!  I think I may have been the only female for miles!!   

I took this in for a few seconds, scanning the room for Bob, and bolted back out the door.  I thought, if he's not here within the next 15 minutes, I'm outta this wide spot in the dirt road called Pozo!  It was surreal, like I had stepped back in time about 100 years!  Luckily he drove up 5 minutes later. 

On a subsequent trip, we had met in town (a real town like Paso Robles, or Santa Margarita)  and I followed him in.  He sped along the dirt toad in his Honda while I did my best to keep up with him.  I was losing sight of him when he got to the rail-less wooden bridge, and I approached it way too fast from a bad angle.  I got this sick feeling as I realized I was over-shooting it, and slammed on the brakes in time to keep from going completely off the bridge, but still ended up with my left from tire hanging off and resting on my axle!

I quickly got out on the passenger side with my heart pounding.  Bob was long gone.  I remember laying on my horn as my bug came to a precarious rest, but to no avail.  I ended out waiting for at least a half hour while he drove all the way in, waited, and then finally drove back, shocked by what he encountered, my bug hanging 15 feet above the creek, and I, pissed off and upset at being stranded out there, immediately burst into tears.  

We didn't know what to do, but presently, a rancher came along, found me blocking the bridge, and quickly winched me off, so fast I barely recall the details.  They don't mess around out there in ranch land, dealing with us tenderfoots.

To be continued.....