Let us set a peaceful albeit dusty scene: I’m typing this up on my laptop in my cozy trailer bed, Bernard passed out next to me, and the reassuring sounds of Tarma slurping up her wet alfalfa pellets coming through the screen door, as it’s not yet cold enough to have to close it. I am sunburnt, two days overdue for a shower, and my stomach was closed for business from about noon on Friday to a few hours ago, when I was able to choke down two bougie hot dogs.

Aside from utterly frustrating shoe troubles, this weekend could not have gone better. Tarma hauled down to Nevada like a champ, even when we got stuck in Reno’s crazy Friday afternoon traffic. We got into camp an hour later than I’d planned, partly due to the traffic and partly due to a missing trailer part. I always do a walk around of the rig before I haul, and leaving Mt. Shasta Friday morning the dust cap from one of my trailer bearings was missing. My husband called the local Point S, who were super busy but super nice. They popped a new one on and had me on the road only a little later than hoped for.

Once I got to ride camp I was able to set up our spot while Tarma rested from the haul, and she vetted in perfectly. I hadn’t ridden in two weeks, and I knew I needed a tack check ride and I had exactly two hours before the ride meeting. We did a quick 3.5 miles and once we got back to the trailer, Tarma pouted on her hi-tie that we hadn’t gone farther. After the ride meeting I prepped my checklist for the next morning, set my alarms, tucked Tarma in with a smorgasbord of food options, and proceeded to not freeze overnight thanks to my heated blanket (which is powered by my Christmas present from Tom, an EcoFlow Delta 3 battery).

Ride morning came early, as they always do. I snoozed my alarm and listened to someone’s horses scream as the longer FEI distances prepped and headed out. I dressed, checked on Tarma, walked Benny, and started working through my checklist. I always leave about 5-10 minutes after the pack, which Tarma found unacceptable this time. As I was grabbing my helmet she broke her hi-tie collar (it has a leather breakaway piece, so that worked!) and she darted across camp, heading toward the river. Luckily someone caught her and we did the mild walk of shame. Due to this mishap I forgot two critical items: My sponge…and my electrolytes! Tarma’s electrolytes I had packed the night before, but I had prepped mine that morning and they never made it into the saddlebags as we left 20 minutes late. I also made one more error: It was so cold I couldn’t convince myself to put my lighter riding leggings on, so I did the first 25 mile loop in my winter fleece riding pants. Cozy and comfortable, for about two of the four hours that first loop took us.

I think those two things combined, the missing electrolytes and the fleece pants, caused me to overheat and deplete just a bit more than I otherwise would have. We still made it through that loop right at the four hours I was hoping for, with only one shoe lost among the rocks.

Some of my favorite moments came from this loop. It was a bit of common trail, and the one closed gate I didn’t have to mess with as someone passed me right before it and opened it for us. We went past someone’s ranch on the back half of the loop, and my favorite moment was cantering down that road past some cool rock features, laughing while Red Hot Chili Peppers played, while Tarma felt so strong and happy and forward. These are the endurance moments I live for, everything enters a flow state and the joy rises, and I ride in awe of this wonderful and beautiful horse.

We reached camp and she vetted through with an excellent 60/53 CRI (apparently everyone gets a CRI at every vet check down here). I settled her in with a wet Haystack mash for lunch, changed every stitch of clothing, and chugged an entire bottle of electrolytes. We headed out just past 1pm, with plenty of time for the second 25 miles, this one a 15 mile loop that shared some common trail with the morning’s loop. We had to climb up a SOB hill, then I hopped off the crawl down the other side of it. Tarma was a bit reluctant for a bit, she’d done 25 miles! That was a good number! I had to remind her she’s a 50 miler horse, and that hill didn’t help my cause any. Thankfully 15 miles is super doable mentally, so I kept us going by turning on my workout playlist (no one around to care as we’d been the turtle pretty much all day). At once point up another hill we lost another shoe, but my spare EasyBoot wouldn’t go over the glue left so she had to rock a shoe on one front, a Renegade on the other, a shoe on one rear and an EasyBoot on the other.

At some point we hit what I called a “death road” that seemed to crawl by, we both hated it even with the music going. During one canter I felt Tarma start to heavily drift to the left…a sure sign another shoe was trying to part ways. This one I had to pry off and curse, because I only had three boots with me. I switched both her Renegades to the front and she was bare on one hind. I hit my absolute doldrums here; we’d have to go so much slower to complete the loops to ensure she didn’t get footsore and we were losing more time than I’d thought between the fussing and the hills. The back half of that loop was a time negotiation, walking what we needed to and speeding up on the deeper sandy footing. If we could get back to camp and she pulsed down by 4:15, that would get us out of camp at 5pm after the 45-minute hold and we could rock the last 10-mile loop by the river (which I knew from ride meeting had no hills) in two hours. Probably. Or maybe we couldn’t and she wouldn’t vet through sound on that hind, and we’d have to call it a day 10 miles short because we lost so much time to walking. I spent a lot of time asking myself why I didn’t shove in another spare. The problem with the glue-ons is they looks utterly solid, until they’re off for whatever reason I can’t figure out. I think after this ride I’ll be looking for a farrier who can fuss with these for me, and just eat the cost. We lost every single shoe over 35 miles, though Tarma didn’t take a bad step the entire time they were on. Figures.

We said hi to the radio operator stationed 1.25 miles from camp, crossed the highway, and flew down the road back to camp to get back by 415. I think Tarma could feel my urgency, as she picked up a beautiful, smooth collected canter and we finished that mile so damn fast. She still pulsed right down, though when I presented her to the vet she was hanging at 68, so I pulled her protective leg boots and asked her to take a deep breath. She got down but the vet told me to keep an eye on her. I pulled tack for this hold and sponged her down, which helped a lot. I forced down an apple and another bottle of electrolytes, stuck on a Scoot boot so at this point she’s rocking Renegades in front (which, amazingly with all the sandy miles, didn’t rub even a bit), a Scoot on one hind and an EasyBoot on the other hind. We headed out of camp along the river with exactly two hours to finish, but I didn’t want to push it too much so I asked her for a six mile an hour pace and we hit the smoothest, most even trot of the day. This trot of Tarma’s is absolutely lovely and gets the job done comfortably. We had to walk a lot of the final bit of road back into camp, but we had time so I let her keep her easy, 4mph march. We hit camp and I went straight for the trailer, stripping her tack and boots and sponging her down, letting her eat and drink her soupy mash for a few minutes.

We “grandma” walked down to the vet (she can’t get her heart rate up if we walk like an old granny, a trick I picked up from Jala!) She was down at 56 and vetted through clean as a whistle! I got my completion and turtle award and we meandered back to the trailer, sampling all the various options and water tanks along the way. At this point the only thing keeping me going was the checklist, and not having my usual teenager helper to rely on. I got Tarma settled with her ice boots, blanket, all the food options and water renewed, sat down…thought about nothing for about two minutes, then vomited up everything I hadn’t eaten that day.

Not gonna lie, Saturday night was rough. I had to pop several Tums just to be able to lie down. At one point I was taking a bite of one of Tom’s homemade rolls, chewing and chewing, forcing myself to swallow, and waiting to see if it would stay down before forcing another bite. I wasn’t really sore at all, despite posting the entire ride other than when we cantered (an ability I didn’t have before, and full credit to the Sweaty Equestrian program for enabling it!) My stomach just wasn’t cared for appropriately and needed to let me know how unacceptable that was. Also, I had no bananas.

I was able to hobble around this morning to take Tarma on her walk and spend some quality time in the bathroom. I kept my coffee and yogurt down, though that was a near thing. About the point I was about ready to try for a nap, the ride manager swung by and informed me there’s a loose horse along the river, and since I was one of the few left in camp, might I be willing to go look for him? So I saddled up and headed out with another local, at a sedate walk to find a loose gelding. I had to call it quits after six miles, I was lightheaded and weak and damn did my butt hurt! Once we got back to camp I moved Tarma and my rig to one of the corrals under the big shade trees, as camp had completely emptied out aside from the ride manager. This time I was able to take a nap, and the folks came in with the loose horse thankfully found around 5pm! I felt wimpy only doing two hours in the saddle, the woman whose horse got loose rode the 65 km yesterday then had to spend six hours hunting down her gelding the next day!

Now we get one day of rest with camp to ourselves before we hit the road for Utah by way of Vegas. Tarma’s doing fine solo, though I had to keep an eye on her all afternoon as she kept rolling and rolling…even with her fly sheet on, the gnats here are a bit intense for everyone! Tomorrow I might practice our high lining to give her more room to move around, and I’ll see if I can hike her out to a spot she can get into the river safely. Oh, and get some work done cause I have great service out here, on the other side of the mountain from Reno.