Vol. 5, No. 1 AERC Extra · AERC Extra – Online Newsletter Page 1 Winter 2013/2014 (Welcome to the Winter 2013/14 edition of AERC Extra, AERC’s online newsletter. Bonus: Clicking

AERC Extra – Online Newsletter Winter 2013/2014Page 1

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Welcome to the Winter 2013/14 edition of AERC Extra, AERC’s online newsletter. Bonus: Clicking on an advertisement—or website address—or e-mail address—or anything in red —will link you to that place on the web. We encourage you to contribute to the Extra by sending in your stories to the AERC office. The AERC National Office Staff

Stories in this issue: Trails Contest Entries (Pages 1-19), A First Year – and Ride – to Remember (20), Adventures at Biltmore 2013 (22), 2014 AERC Convention Information & Registration Form (Pages 24-27),

AERC 2014 Membership Registration Form (28)

Winter 2014Vol. 5, No. 1

Photo ©Karl Creations

American Endurance Ride Conferencewww.aerc.org • [email protected]

P.O. Box 6027 • Auburn, CA 95604 • 866-271-2372

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“AERC Is Trails” ContestIn celebration of trails, AERC—with the support of sponsor Riding Ware-

house, www.ridingwarehouse.com—hosted an essay contest this past fall, and is happy to announce the winners:

1. Debra Ambrose ($250 gift certificate)2. Cyd Ross ($150 gift certificate)3. Elizabeth Gould ($100 gift certificate)More than 30 entries were received, all celebrating a favorite trail or trail

system where the authors love to ride. AERC’s Trails and Land Management Committee members chose the top

three winners, based on the most heartfelt write-ups. You will enjoy reading all the essays, reprinted here in this issue of AERC Extra.

Be sure to consider a donation to AERC’s Trails Fund, which provides grant money for trail improvements which benefit endurance riders. Congratulations to our winners and thanks to all who entered!

A Gateway to the Worldby Debra Ambrose

1st Place Winner!A faint game trail disappeared under a thicket of honeysuckle and grapevine.

Landlocked on our small acreage, bordered by an off-limits military reservation and a busy highway, I saw no way out. My impatience to begin endurance conditioning with my long-awaited prospect was mounting. I needed to be doing hill work, long trots up gradual inclines, gallop repeats! I certainly had no time for clearing trail.

But clear trail I did. Lugging pruning shears, branch loppers, heavy gloves and a shovel, I bulldogged my way

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Debra Ambrose . . .through ankle-grabbing wisteria and sharp-stickered blackberry bushes. I learned to recognize the faint depression of a treacherous stump hole, or an unnatural line that might signal buried barbed wire. Up-close encounters demonstrated the difference between the hiss of a harmless hognose snake and the faint buzz of a pygmy rattler. I dug, drug and swatted my way through a central North Carolina summer, sure that my endurance career would never begin.

When the three miles were finally passable, I hated it. My gelding and I crept along, stepping over logs and slogging through deep sand. I was scared where the trail paralleled the highway, and resentful to look over at the beautiful two-track sandy road on Fort Bragg, out of reach. Turkeys rushing from bushes spooked my horse. A squirrel dropped an enormous pine cone on his rump. What did these tribulations have to do with my desire to ride on the wind for miles?

Gradually we developed a jog we could maintain through the knee-knocking pines. Deep sand along a railroad siding forged stronger tendons. We stretched our horizons until we discovered a narrow path leading us to a quiet road. When we worked up the nerve to cross the highway into hundreds of state forestry acres, my partner stood quietly while traffic rumbled past. We now had access to the trails and hills I had longed for.

I still marvel at how slow I was to appreciate the benefits of that first trail, how it brought me back to the rides I took out of my backyard on a pony 40 years before. It was our gateway to the world, built on our own effort. I thought of my mother on the kitchen porch as I rode out the driveway, and heard her voice reciting Longfellow’s “The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere” as we cantered now in deeper footing along a pond, and roared up an incline to an old logging trace:

“He has left the village and mounted the steep,And beneath him, tranquil and broad and deep,Is the Mystic, meeting the ocean tides;And under the alders that skirt its edge,Now soft in the sand, now loud on the ledge,Is heard the tramp of his steed as he rides.” This humble trail has led us to the palmetto forests of Florida and the mountains of Virginia, as well as the rim of the Grand

Canyon. I look forward to where it may lead us next.

Our Favorite Trailby Cyd Ross

2nd Place Winner!Hoof beats fall softly, almost silent in the cool dirt beneath the canopy as the

sun’s rays glimmer between the branches. Between the ears ahead of me, the trail winds through the fern canyon; a striking contrast of the earthy browns and lush green of the lavish foliage surrounding us. A light mist hovering above us adds an element of mystery. I breathe deeply, smelling the sweet fresh scent of wilderness.

We feel completely alone, yet know that although we cannot see it, the forest is alive. It is a feeling, a sense that we lose in the day to day hustle away from this magical place. This is my favorite place, on my favorite horse, where nobody can touch us.

The trail is smooth beneath us as we pick up a trot. Cares fall away as her stride extends, eating up the trail and casting a light breeze on my face. Majestic redwoods tower above us, standing tall and strong, a shield of comfort to us and the creatures that we pass without ever knowing their presence. We are no threat to each other.

This place has offered me the thrill of seeing a mama bear and her two cubs, such a delight. We paused on the trail and just absorbed the honor of such an incomparable encounter, as she acknowledged our presence, and vanished among the trees. I inhale deeply once more as we twist and turn through the woods, ducking a few low branches. The trail shifts slightly upwards, and I feel the potential beneath my saddle as we transition to a rocking horse canter. A smile spreads across my face and I am the luckiest girl in the world.

The trail gets steeper and steeper, and we are going faster and faster, the vibrant colors of the forest blurring to a soft haze. My eyes water slightly, and the smile becomes a grin. Knotting my reins, we gallop up the incline, arms spread like wings; we are in perfect harmony. This is my freedom. My horse finds another gear and surges forward with immense power. This is her favorite trail too. She amazes me with her strength over and over again, so full of life and vigor. Here we can channel it together and then we fly.

We are approaching the top and she collects herself. We slow back to an easy trot, and comfortably fall to a walk. I lay on her neck and soak in the experience, captivated by the intensity a simple trail ride can present.

We come to a grassy clearing, abundant green. She lowers her head to graze, and I peek at the keyhole views of the Pacific Ocean, framed with every hue of green on the spectrum. We walk on to find our next adventure, and I have this to cherish forever.

(Written in memory of Fuega)


My Favorite Trailby Elizabeth Gould

3rd Place Winner!Sycamore Grove Park is a quiet small park in Livermore, California. It greets you as

you enter with large sycamore trees that welcome you and sets you at peace in their presence. This park is my favorite place to ride; it is where I had my first trail ride as a little girl. I can still remember my father jogging along with my sister and I on our older horses; he even ran through the creek so he wouldn’t have to leave us.

As a late teen I often went out to the park by myself after school or on weekends, after my sister left riding. I remember being so at peace and free with myself, loping down the lane through the large old oaks that reached above and made a tunnel of color in autumn. Along the different trails at any time I could come across the deer and bobcats along with many turkeys and other small animals that add to the wonder of this park. Back then it was such a joy to be riding in nature, taking the hardships I had in school out of my mind and replacing it with the beauty of the trails.

My life changed in this park back in 2010. I was training my young gelding on water crossings. He was doing great and we de-cided to leave. He spooked at the other horse making noise in the water and started to bolt. I did a one-rein stop, then he started bucking. I only lasted a few until he tossed me into the dry creek bed. I spent the next year of my life with my upper arm paralyzed, broken, in a clamp and sling. Doctors weren’t sure if I would get any use back out of my arm due to severe nerve damage. However I have beaten my odds and have most use of my arm. A ten-inch plate holds the bone together.

The best thing about this park is it’s where I have found myself once again. After my accident I had a strong fear of spooking horses. With a great new horse and help from my wonderful friend I got back to the trails last April. My first ride out at Sycamore I was a bundle of nerves, especially crossing the water where it happened. I have been back on the trails there a few times each month, getting better and better each time. This last ride I went by myself and had a blast, the feeling of comfort and safety I had trotting down Bob Cat Alley and crossing the creek lined with green foliage made for such a beautiful ride. My heart is full and I am at my happy place when riding at Sycamore Grove Park.

And here are all the other essays, which we know you will enjoy. They are from both members and non-members. We wish them all many other wonderful days on the trails.

Andrea SirkoEndurance riders love a nice piece of trail. I’ve ridden quite a few, especially

in the past several years since being bitten by the endurance bug. My personal favorites have to be the trails of Michaux State Forest, near my home in southern Pennsylvania. The terrain is varied and challenging, with great conditioning climbs, long gallops, and beautiful views. How many areas can boast this plus an awesome, fun group of riders to share it with?

If we were a musical ensemble, our name would be The Michaux Maniacs. Guided by our fearless leader, Captain Skip, we have ridden through rain, snow, sleet, dead of night . . . even some nice weather! The genre would have to be rock; in some areas of Michaux it’s a cash crop. Trails like Pat’s Pretty Loop, named for our own venerable legend, Pat Oliva. Follow Pat’s Pretty Loop along a winding stream, with sheer rock outcroppings towering overhead. Rock above soon becomes rock below, as we tackle our own (albeit smaller and somewhat less daunting) version of Fort Valley’s Indian Graves. For a more up-tempo piece, a long gallop can be arranged on a trail called Ecstasy. Just watch out for the resident flock of wild turkeys, replete with six inch, Arabian eating fangs. Honest.

For a more technical piece, the Big “O” offers trees, many trees. Trees in tight formation, requiring fine tuned steering to avoid loss of kneecaps. Survive these twists and turns and be rewarded with a faster pace. I think there is also scenery. Eventually the ride slows down to a trot past a beautiful reservoir. There are other trails, too, that offer spectacular views, overlooking mountains upon mountains. I don’t know the names of those trails or how to get there. My equine partner, Juni, possesses hind legs at least twice as long as those found on a normal horse, with amazing power and precision. We’re in the back . . . continued on next page

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Andrea Sirko . . .Juni tries to find her Perfect Pitch early into a ride; it’s not a matter

of if, it’s a matter of when, and whether she chooses a Category 1 or Category 5. Should she land that note, and me, with a Cat 5, her payment will come in the form of a “hill” called Heartbreak. I, on the other hand, will be required to make (never buy) a dessert for future sharing. Questionable spills can be put before a “committee” for review; voluntary or emergency dismounts are still considered falls. He or she with the most departures at season’s end wins a lovely jacket embroidered with the year and “Fall-Off Champ”. This coveted award is hotly contested; last year my human partner, Derick, took home the prize, which is awarded at the annual holiday party.

Michaux is not a place for the feint of heart, but for those not afraid of lions, tigers, and bears (really, ask the horses, although only the bears are visible to the human eye) there few places I’ve seen that compare. Join us!

Annie WhelanWhenever someone asks me what my favorite trail is, it makes me think. I started endurance when I was 8 in 2009. I have seen

sights that I doubt few people will see in their whole lives! I have seen beautiful rivers, valleys, and lush green meadows, but there is one state forest that has some of the most beautiful scenery in the U.S.! This forest that you have begun to wonder about is located in Ivanhoe, Virginia.

The endurance ride, Virginia Highlands, is put on there by Don and Nicki Meuten. The 2013 ride season was halfway over and my mother and our farm’s local boarders were all planning their annual trip to the Virginia Highlands ride. I had never been and wasn’t planning on going because of school. Changes took place, and my mom arranged for my dad to take me after school. I was thrilled! I arrived at about 8:00 p.m. on Friday night and planned to ride the 55 the next day. It finally was time to go to bed and I was super excited!

The next morning we started off early. I knew this ride was known for its views but had still not yet witnessed them. We had been riding a few miles on the second loop. We had been riding up a HUMONGOUS mountain for 15 minutes. It was rocky, rutted, and tough! I was beginning to wonder if the views really paid off for such a tough trail.

We finally made it to the top! I rounded the corner and there was the scenery I had come for, the scenery that every endurance rider wants to see. It was a sheer drop-off from which you could see miles upon miles! I felt that I was truly on top of the world!

I had recalled Don saying we would be trekking up a huge mountain to the top, formally known as “Horse Heaven.” For me it was the closest thing to heaven I’ve seen in my life. This one view paid off for the tough climb. I treasure the moment still. I still remember the goose bumps and shivers that crept up my spine when I looked off that cliff! I still remember the sadness that crept through me when we headed down the mountain. Even though that view was The Grand Supreme, there were SO many more beautiful views at Ivanhoe.

I hope that all endurance riders will have the feeling of sheer amazement and the feeling as if you’re on top of the world!

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Bernadette GrismerFrom the beginning, endurance riding has surprised me with the varied splendor

of the trails I can enjoy with my horse. So far, I have liked practically every trail that I have ridden. The few trails that I am less enthusiastic about have definitely offered good teaching moments for me and my horse, and I am still willing to ride them. Since so many of the places where I ride are beautiful or offer good training opportunities, it was hard to choose a single favorite trail. When I was considering different trails and what makes them great, a few traits rose to the top.

Good footing is an obviously desirable quality anywhere that I ride. This can include smooth dirt tracks where gopher holes are not a concern, gravel roads that don’t turn to mud in the winter, or sand that is not too deep. Frequently I ride by myself and use this time alone with my horse to recharge and rebalance myself. Thus, I enjoy riding where it feels as though it is only my horse and me trotting down the trail. Though heat training is a necessity for an endurance horse competing in California, my preference would be to ride somewhere on the slightly cooler side during the hot days of summer. Along the same lines, a really good trail should have enough gain and loss of elevation to condition my horse well, while still having areas to move out at a good clip.

The trail that encompasses all of the aspects I most enjoy is actually a system of trails within the Point Reyes National Seashore. This system has miles upon miles of trail that make for phenomenal riding. There are numerous single-track corridors that wind through the trees and have soft dirt footing covered with pine needles. When it is foggy, the pine trees become shrouded in mist, creating an ethereal feeling of float-ing through the trees as we go down the trail. In addition to the single-tracks, there are dirt and gravel fire roads, which provide good footing in the winter and a wide path for horses and riders that are not ready for narrow trails. When we need a good gallop, there are long sections of trail that go across open meadows, yet there are also many long climbs and technical sections for conditioning. Additionally, several routes go out toward the coast and offer spectacular panoramic views of the Pacific Ocean; some of these trails even go all of the way down onto a beach with striking, white sand. Many of the trails go through the forest so that they are relatively cool and shady even during the summer.

This trail system rose to the top as my favorite because these are the trails that I would ride every day if time and distance were not factors in where I train. I still have many miles of trail in this system left to explore and enjoy!

Cindy CollinsThe Big Horn 100 predates the AERC, running continuously since

1971 and twice the site of the Race of Champions. It starts out of Shell, Wyoming at around 4,000 ft. The first 25 miles rise gradually out of the desert to the base of the mountains. The sunrise over the desert floor takes your breath away. Purple, orange, rose, and every shade of brown and tan appear in the rocks. Clear, cold streams of water refresh.

Now you begin the spectacular climb 5,000 ft. through a series of five canyons. As you climb, views of the valley floor spread out below you and you see mountain ranges in the distance – Beartooths, Absarokas, Pryors and Wind Rivers. Wildflowers of every imaginable color spread out over the trails once you get to the top. You see the big snowcapped peaks of the Big Horns and you ride toward those distant shrines and Antelope Butte thinking it can’t get any more beautiful; but, you are wrong.

Next, the trail climbs through twisted roots and rocks opening up onto alpine pastures before you drop into Ranger Creek. The quaking aspen trees, streams, flowers, and views continue to be awe-inspiring. You climb up a mix of single-track trail and gravel road to arrive at Battle Creek. This creek and the tall grass welcome horses.

From Battle Creek, the trail takes you on jeep roads and single tracks to Lake Adelaide. As you climb through Boulder Basin, you see both Adelaide Lake and Shell Reservoir sparkling below you, surrounded by mountains. You reach the high point of the ride, almost 11,000 ft. The lake is a jewel surrounded by alpine meadows, streams, and spectacular rock formations.


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You begin the descent back toward Battle Creek, the final rest before the long trail back down to Shell over the Black Mt. Road.You watch an amazing sunset as you descend through more wildflowers and mountain meadows toward the desert floor.The stars in the Wyoming sky look like you could reach up and touch them.You see scattered pinpoints of light below showing you aren’t alone in this magnificent place. As you make your final drop

onto the red desert floor and head toward the few vehicle lights awaiting the end of your journey, you know that you and your horse have accomplished something magical. You won’t have a stadium of cheering volunteers, but the people there will care about you as an individual they worried about all day long.

I have completed the Big Horn 100 eight times now and my husband and I have helped the ride since 1981. I’ve faced the “agony of defeat” more times than I care to recall. I always say that the Big Horn 100 is more like endurance riding than endurance riding ever was! I am humbled. I believe it is worth all the hardships and heartaches just to see it one time in your life.

Cindy McLendonAs you would know, if you knew me, Murphy’s Law was at work again. I was lost. First, my horse got loose while I was saddling,

I twisted my ankle while catching him, he managed to flood my boots while drinking from the pond, and then he spooked at a rabbit and jumped trail. I can hear my hubby laughing about me getting lost in my own “neck of the woods,” when I explained my extended absence . . .

Nothing to do but trot on. I consulted my compass and did some calculations. I knew that if I continued to bear due east, I would eventually come back to the crossroads. Unfortunately, due to the heavy undergrowth, my only option was to go west and explore new territory. Trot on.

After some time, I took a turn, and came over a rise. I glanced around and my heart flew into my throat! The trees opened up into a small clearing with a pond. There were several apple trees that had just began to blossom, and the air was delicately scented with their fragrance. There was a large doe, with her two fawns, drinking from the pond. She glanced my way, but did not run or startle. My horse remarkably remained calm. I quickly dismounted and held him by the reins. It seemed as if a great deal of time passed, but it was probably only moments. After the doe’s thirst was sated, she delicately bounded off following a path that I had not noticed until that moment. Her fawns followed.

I remounted, consulted my compass, and decided to follow the doe’s route. Trot on. This trail was actually well worn, and after a few minutes, I emerged behind my neighbor’s barn! As I came around the structure, I spent a few minutes visiting, and then proceeded homeward. Bonus: I truthfully told hubby I was late from visiting with neighbors!

I have revisited this spot many times. I have spent time watching the minnows jumping from the pond in the summer, as my faithful mount and I enjoyed a freshly-picked crisp apple. I have gazed upon the leaves’ colorful display reflected in the shallow pool in the autumn. And in winter, I have happened upon, what I believe in my heart, to be the doe that showed me the way home. This is a place of tranquility and reflection. I feel peace here. My horse feels it, too. We both relax, and enjoy each other’s company.

So, moral of the story, is . . . Whether we travel renowned trails, visit fabulous destinations, or observe gorgeous landscapes – sometimes that perfect place finds you . . . even in your own neck of the woods . . . if only we trot on.

Cindy Collins . . .


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Deborah YarrowRiding trails is my way to get my brain off the business of my everyday life as a

small animal veterinarian. Every case requires me to focus completely on the tests, the client and most importantly the pet. It is hard to escape thinking about each wagging tail or purr that is in trouble and relies on me to be sure everything is done to help save them.

When I put my foot in that stirrup in the absolute calmness of the forest and wander down the trail with my two best friends, my horse and my dog, I forget about everything outside that moment.

I had the privilege to take a few days off in October and ride at the Otter Creek Horse Camp. Oh my goodness,it was horse paradise. More trails than I could ever imagine and all without rocks. I come from Connecticut and rocky is an understate-ment for our trails. The trails were sandy and wide with horse safe bridges. We would meander up to a ridge that overlooked a pristine lake surrounded by pines. Clean air, blue skies, beautiful views and . . . a tie rail and a picnic table to have lunch. Each new overlook was more scenic than the last and each trail turn brought us alongside a babbling brook.

Scotch, a new horse for me, never hesitated and I think he loved every minute also. He was looking around as though he was taking in all the scenery himself. My dog was allowed to ride with me, making this adventure even more special. The first day the threat of high winds and severe thunderstorms in the afternoon made my ride back to camp a little more directed. At a trail junction, I stopped to look at my map and quickly glanced up at the trail. My brain registered small Shitzu ahead. Wait, a Shitzu in the middle of the woods??? Look again, it was a large porcupine waddling towards me and my dog. Yikes, turn and run. Wait, wrong way. Winds getting stronger and it is starting to sprinkle. The heck with it, turn and run all the way back to camp right passed the prickly Shitzu.

The last day came and on the way home my mind wandered back to a medical case. Wow, for the first time in a long time both me and my brain took a few days off and went trail riding.

Dodie SableIt goes without saying that we ride on so many trails that it becomes difficult to pick just one as a favorite. The contest gave

me the opportunity to think about all the trails I’ve ridden and talk about just one.I competed at the Ride Between The Rivers in West Virginia three years in a row. The first year I attended, it was my first 50 mile

ride without a riding partner on a seasoned Tennessee Walking mare. I hooked up with a rider who shared my love of scenery and we probably could have completed with a faster time if we hadn’t kept stopping to take in the breath-stealing views.

The second year I attended on a new-to-the-sport Tennessee Walker mare. This was to be her first 50 mile ride. I finished 11th, only because I didn’t realize I was in 10th place and I let a rider pass me at the finish.

The mare I was riding was a hot head, but she was also the most fearless horse I’ve ever ridden. The trail at RBTR is very technical with lots of steep inclines and descents. My favorite part of this trail is a section where the rider is descending from the ridge to the river on a steep trail that switches back and forth all the way down. This section is devoid of vegetation and the rider can see all the way from the ridge to the river and has to negotiate the trail with great care.

At the ride, this section of trail is in two of the three loops. The first time we negotiated this descent, there were two riders in front of us and my mare was pushing to go faster. As it is a single track trail, I had my hands full keeping her back. She boogied down that trail and spun on one foot at each switchback like she had been conditioning on the trail her whole life. It was amazing.

Second time around we did not have riders in front of us and I was able to enjoy the technical aspect, and beauty of the view as we descended. The thrill of moving down suck a steep trail at a speed that would scare most people to a head of white hair, left me with a thrill comparative to no other. I wanted to go back up the trail just so I could do it all over again.

The third year I attended on this same mare but they tricked us and changed the trail a bit so that section of trail was an ascent instead of a descent. When I got to the top and looked down upon the river, I broke out in goosebumps. There were no other riders around so just for the heck of it, I went back down the trail just to get that thrill of navigation. It was great fun!

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Erin McCardellThe crystal clear water is high and fast as it rushes around my horse’s legs but she is surefooted and we easily tackle the loamy

bank on the other side. Into a trot now, we head down the rocky path that meanders with the creek, keeping pace with the graceful silhouettes of bald eagles and great blue herons as they soar above the water. It’s a hard left turn and we power up a steep and narrow trail lined with hardwood growth that is dressed in the crimson and gold of the fall months.

We reach the top, our trail opening into a grassy meadow overlooking the creek valley below, and my mare pauses briefly to graze in the lush forage, keeping a close eye on the herd of whitetail deer who have joined us. Onward we go, fairly flying through the fields until we spot the trail, well hidden in the thick forest growth, that will take us back to the creek. Down, down, down we travel, slipping and sliding in the loose, wet soil. I close my eyes and take in the scent of the woods, its heavy autumnal fragrances mixing with the damp, earthy smell of the creek bed.

All too soon, we have reached our crossing and my mare splashes eagerly through to the other side. It is a short ride home from here, but I slow to a walk to admire my favorite part of the trail as we make our way along the edge of a tributary full of small, cascading waterfalls. The water makes a melodious sound as it tumbles from rock to moss-covered rock providing background music for a chorus of song birds that are proclaiming the beginning of their journey south. Just a short stretch on a country road here as we pass the ruins of a mill built centuries ago at the beginning of our country.

We arrive back at the barn and I slide off my mare. Once I again I am feeling wholly blessed and thankful to have such a surreal place for me and my horse to enjoy.

Gretchen MontgomeryOne of my favorite trails is the Cattle Canyon trail, located in the Eastern Sierras near Bridgeport, California. I’m not sure which

time of the year is my favorite. In the spring you can still encounter snow drifts; during the heat of the summer you can stop and cool off in Cattle Creek. The colors and the sound of the wind blowing the aspen leaves in the fall are spectacular. I’ve hiked this trail many times before I started riding a horse. Riding this trail is breath-taking. You start ascending the narrow, switch-back trail at Lower Twin Lakes. Once the trail reaches a certain elevation it levels off and you can trot along the single track trail among the aspens and pine trees, over huge roots of tall Jeffrey pines, all the while traveling at an elevation of above 8,000 feet.

The highest point, called the “OOH AH” moment, is when you round a corner and the cliffs and rocky jagged peaks of the Sawtooth Range suddenly appear. The highest peak in this range is Matter-horn Peak, 12,264 feet. Immediately to the west of this range is the back country in northern Yosemite. At this point of the trail it seems you can reach out and touch the peaks. The view behind you is just as spectacular, overlooking the entire Twin Lakes drainage and Bridgeport Valley.

You then start a gradual descent to join the Horse Creek Trail. The trail descends down toward Upper Twin Lakes alongside beaver ponds, a river, and you can hear and see Horse Tails falls off your left.

I do not encounter many people on this trail; occasionally a bear, deer, a sage hen or two. One time a lone bicyclist crossed my path. However, the best story of all is during the Eastern High Sierra Classic endurance ride where a large flock of sheep blocked the single track high up on the trail. Many horses did not want to wade through the sea of fleece. Some of the braver horses started through, with others following in single file. The sheep were so confused of which side to stay on. So the sheep, trying to stay in their herd, bolted from one side of the trail to the other side of the horses, who were also trying to stay intact. Sheep and horses did not want to mix and match. I often wonder where the heck was the sheep herder? The “Year of the Sheep” will always be remembered by riders on the EHSC.


Jane VorpagelPROTECT OUR RIGHT TO RIDE

Out to the west between Redding and the sea,Lies a mountain range called the Trinities.

In the winter sure, they’re covered in snow,But in summer, that’s where I want to go.The meadows are green and the trees are high.The forest so quiet, you can hear the birds fly.

To get there you gotta have some guts, the roads are windy and full of ruts.The first time you go you think, “These folks are nuts!”

But ever since I was a child, My father had shown me the call of the wild.From the Great Smoky Mountains, to the Redwood Parks,We’d find those places that were quiet and dark.

But now with so many people around, quiet and solitude’s hard to be found.But I was blessed; God gave me the key,He showed me the way to the Back Country.

I prayed to God the eternal force; Who smiled down and sent me a horse.Strong and steady as he can be; he’s not afraid of new things he sees.When I’m on his back, I’m truly free. That’s the feeling I get in the Back Country.

Now you shouldn’t really go in there alone, stuff can happen, you’re a long way from home.Certain things of which you should be aware, like mountain lions, rattlesnakes and bears.

No the wilderness is not for the faint of heart, and if you’re a beginner, it’s no place to start.On your horse with nature you become a part.To protect our right to ride, we’ve got to get smart.

People need to know that bridge across the stream, didn’t get there with gasoline.And the fish that you catch for a high mountain feast; was brought to you on the back of a beast.So contact those with political force, and tell them the enemies not a horse.

You see, long ago I had a dream, when I was only 17.To protect the earth and keep it clean, And look after the waters that flow in the streams.And that’s what the back country horsemen do.They depend on their mules and horses too.To ride the trails blazed when the country was new.And preserve that freedom for our grand children too.


Jennifer L. BakerThirty horses pace back and forth near the trail system entrance marked by simple paper plates. Plastic ribbons dance blue,

yellow and pink in the wind. As I trot my horse along the prairie flanking the entrance, the familiar broken record of anxieties plays through my head.

It’s dark. It’s 6:45 a.m. It’s the start of the AHA 50 mile National Champi-onship ride at Jim Edgar Panther Creek State Park in Chandlerville, Illinois.

What am I doing here? All these horses look so lean, so muscled; so perfect. Is Katy too fat? That vet last year said she was fat. She is half quar-ter horse after all. Yeah . . . she’s still fat. . . . Did I condition her enough? Is she good enough?

Wait . . . do I have to pee one more time before we start?Inspirational words from a fellow rider soothe my anxious mind. “You

need to believe in her. You need to believe in Katy,” she cheered, coaxing my reluctant self to race her across the finish line. Racing was never my thing but those simple words of encouragement became my mantra. Those words gave me the confidence to make the AHA Championship ride my 2013 goal.

Believe in her. Believe in yourself.

The trail opens. The chatter in my monkey mind subsides as I fall into the quiet pocket behind the front runners, who quickly disappear though the riparian woodland of Hackberry and Osage orange.

I negotiate single track switchbacks zigzagging steep slopes, dodging hedge apples that litter the trail like land mines. Bursts of up and down are rewarded by long stretches of two track through prairies and savanna perched on rolling hills; Bluestem, Indi-angrass and oak touching blue skies. Voices behind me gradually fade away and I ride most of the day in solitude. I walk through rivers to the chorus of migrating Carolina wrens, trot past lakes and slow to greet groups of pheasant hunters and their Springer’s along corn and soybean fields.

Focus. Believe in yourself. Breathe as Katy breathes. Believe in her. There is nothing but this right now. Nothing but this autumn day and resounding thump, thump, thump of Katy’s hooves on

flagged trail.I track Katy’s gaze toward the finish line as she pulls up the final hill, hugging her neck as I dismount for the final time. Dusty and

tired, I’m relieved to hear “She looks good!” Such simple words to sum up 50 miles of effort, but ones we covet at the final check.I’ve ridden miles of beautiful trail throughout the Midwest on my $300 mare, but it was the synergy of the Jim Edgar trails and

a National Championship ride that elevated my confidence as a rider and in my beautiful Katy. Earning Top Ten Half Arab and the lavish trophy belt buckle were merely icing on the cake.

Whether conditioning or competing in a National Championship, riding quiets the worn out ballads of anxiety and insecurity. Confidence builds with each mile exploring this wild Earth, until we truly believe we are as capable and beautiful as our horses.

Karen HavisI love trail riding. It brings me a peace and serenity that I cannot find anywhere else. When I am on my favorite horse, Henry,

life is good. Riding Henry is a wonderful experience. I enjoy riding him no matter where I am. He is a great horse, very attuned to me. Henry

is a Saddlebred, and had been a show horse. When I started riding him, he was very afraid of everything. Now that he trusts me, he is fearless, and is a great trail horse.

One of my favorite trails is Fairystone State Park in Virginia. The trails wind through the mountains. The trail system is well marked, and the trails are well maintained. Fairystone is not a busy park, so often we can ride for hours without seeing another person. It is quiet and peaceful, riding through older forests. There are several small streams, and a small waterfall. There are interesting rock outcroppings. The views are really pretty, looking out over the valleys and mountains of Virginia.

One of the trails goes by the lake, and it is so beautiful. There are rhododendron bushes growing on one side of the trail, and when they are in bloom, it is magical, with the lake on one side and the beautiful rhododendron in bloom on the other side.

Trail riding has helped Henry develop his confidence. He is a bold leader, willing to go anywhere. He truly enjoys our trail rides together, and is very sure-footed, and takes care of everything.

I have had the pleasure of owning Henry for 10 years. He is now 23. Our trail rides are now mostly walking, which is fine for both of us.

Trail riding brings me joy and peace. It keeps my horse fit and mentally engaged. I am able to enjoy the beauty of nature, and be thankful for all the blessings I have in my life.


Kerrie CassidyWe just call it Rock Trail. Everyone remembers how hard it is, how it seems so

long. I avoid it most of the time, not wanting to deal with the tough footing, steep drop-offs and reaching poison oak.

But my horse still wants to go, even after 10 hard training miles. I believe the tough trail will be good thinking practice. So we go, and fly, and his sure-footed feet guide me over that tough footing, climbing granite steps and traversing slick rock. Drop-offs are unnoticed as he never falters, never looks down, just follows this new-to-him trail with the joy of exploring.

I duck and dodge the poison oak the best I can, in sync with this beast I call a pet, a friend, a companion. The trail became a little smoother, and we accelerate, hemmed by oak trees, and monolithic rocks who have seen so many riders, so many seasons. Vultures overhead catch thermals, rising and falling in graceful arcs, but I can’t take my eyes off the trail for too long – too many tree branches to avoid! Here the trail forks, decisions to be made: down Quartz Hill (everything has a name) to the sandy lake trail? Or continue this rocky adventure?

Today we take the difficult path, for every trail has its moments, and today this is ours. We are in flight, over trails others would balk at, living in the moment. Descending to a tricky rocky crossing, we navigate the spring creek runoff, and up the other side. Turtles in the water below plop into the water, nervous about our presence: do they feel or hear us? Here we have a view of the lake, tiny ferns bunch between rocks, and the first green shoots and purple wildflowers emerge from the dry winter grass stalks.

The trail becomes wider, weaving between oaks and buckeye, the first leaves just starting to show, and small directional signs point the way. The end of the Rock Trail has come. It now becomes the easier portion of this trail, officially called Pioneer Express. Here is evidence of others: I see some horses ahead and trailers at the staging area, where we descend to the trough that my horse ignores, though it looks good to me!

We should head home, down the beaten path, the road well traveled. It is time to do chores, to prepare for the next day, to be responsible. But we don’t. We turn around, and continue back on Rock Trail one more time. More sedately and quietly, just exploring another trail again, for the first time.

Kerry GreearI have ridden awesome trails in numerous states, both for fun and in competition. But my very favorite trail is in my backyard,

the Black Hills of South Dakota. I have shared sections of this trail with friends and family for many years. It has also introduced me to many new friends, both horse and mountain bike trail lovers.

The Centennial Trail, known as Trail 89, was dedicated to celebrate South Dakota’s Centennial in 1989. The trail linked several known trails and was achieved through the dreams and hard work of many people and agencies. Two State Parks, Bear Butte and Custer, are beautiful and inte-gral components of the trail. The Black Hills National Forest, including three Ranger Districts, developed parts of the trail. The Bureau of Land Management and The National Park Service are two additional Federal Agencies involved. This trail, enjoyed by people from all over the world, shows what can be achieved when people work together.

The Centennial is approximately 111 miles long. Parts have been rerouted through the years secondary to dam-age to the trail, logging, or other reasons so I have heard it is anywhere from 105 to 114 miles in length. The majority of the trail is open to hikers, mountain bikers, and equestrians only. A short section is shared with ATV vehicles. Mountain bikes are not allowed on the section through Black Elk Wilderness and horses are not allowed in Wind Cave National Park.

From north to south, the trail starts at Bear Butte State Park, which is a beautiful and sacred area with historical stories of Na-tive American tribes, including Sioux, Cheyenne and Ute, the United States Cavalry and early settlers. A small horse camp beside Highway 79 allows overnight camping. The trail covers 10 miles of prairie before entering the hills. The next section, near Sturgis, goes through pine-covered hills and takes the traveler by the Historic Post Cemetery and the Black Hills National Cemetery, which


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is known as the Arlington of the West. Visitors ride on the edge of the Ft. Meade VA Hospital, which was the last horse-mounted cavalry post in the United States. Several of the old stone barns are still standing and in good condition.

Before going under Interstate 90, campers can access either the Alkali Creek Horse Camp or regular campground. These camps were utilized for the Ft. Meade Remount Endurance Ride. The trail next enters Black Hills National Forest land and one of my favorite sections of trail. The 11.5 miles of trail climbs from 3400 ft. to 5300 ft in a winding pattern along the edge of Elk Creek Canyon. The trail then follows a mostly descending but winding pattern to Dalton Lake. At this point, the traveler has covered approximately 33 miles of trail which is very achievable in one day for an endurance team.

The Centennial then travels a rocky section in the pines to the historic town of Nemo. A seven-mile section, shared with mo-torcycles and ATVs, is fairly rocky but provides an opportunity to interact with trail riders who like motors. It is not a busy area and is rough enough terrain that riders are not moving fast. At the Pilot Knob Trailhead, the trail skirts a hill a short distance until crossing the highway then heading back into solitude.

The trail takes enthusiasts along the edge of Pactola Reservoir and some rough country going toward Sheridan Lake. At the Samelius TH, riders start another one of my favorite sections. The trail meanders through huge granite boulders and pine-covered hillsides, then enters the Black Elk Wilderness. A short side trail enables the rider to ride to a hitching post across the highway from Mt. Rushmore National Monument. I have eaten my lunch many times while looking at “The Faces.” There are numerous creek crossings and solitude in this area. Another side trip could include riding to the top of Harney Peak, which at 7,242 feet is the highest point east of the Rockies. Iron Creek Horse Camp is on the edge of the wilderness area and right on the Centennial Trail.

From Iron Creek Horse Camp, riders enter Custer State Park and the last 22 miles of the Centennial Trail that is available to horseback riders. The French Creek Horse Camp is the southern-most horse camp on the Centennial. I have camped and ridden out of French Creek at least once a year for the past 25 years. It is a place to meet old and new friends and explore 71,000 acres of beauty.

The Centennial Trail passes by or near seven bodies of water, buffalo herds at Bear Butte and Custer State Park, many historical sites and numerous geologic wonders. If offers numerous opportunities for short rides, long rides and through rides. A rider can ride the extremely scenic Deerfield Trail to access the other hundred mile trail in the Black Hills, The Mickelson Trail, from the Centennial.

I am very fortunate to have the Centennial Trail in my backyard. It has afforded me the opportunity to ride trail year-round. The prairie usually has good footing, even in the winter. On days that soar above 90 degrees, I can always find a shady trail at higher elevation to enjoy. Completing certain sections of this trail let me know my horse is ready for a difficult 50. Other sections I complete instead of a difficult 50 to let me know if my horse is ready for a 100 miler.

Kerry LowreyAt the Grand Canyon XP Ride - North Rim – What was I thinking? I had to be totally insane to be doing this. At least that was

my thought as my spotted mount ambled slowly towards a sheer drop off. This was NOT what the brochure had said. “Thirty feet from the edge…” it had stated, and this was maybe four feet! As we approached the cliff which was roughly a mile deep, I leaned as far away from the edge as possible. Even my trusty steed glanced over at the edge and gave a mighty snort; I had to agree with him on that.

My riding companion who was following along hollered out for me to hold up a minute so he could get a picture, but there was no way I was stopping anywhere near that edge. Heights and I had never been friends. Instead, we hustled past the roughly five thousand foot drop, trying desperately not to look down.

I finally managed to peel my eyes off the edge and looked out into the canyon. Colors mixed together on the rim walls, while lightning flashed from dark clouds several miles away. The view was magical and awe-inspiring.

We trudged up a hill, twisted into a small cove of trees, made another turn, and then the Grand Canyon revealed itself in full. Colors I have never seen before, or since, and vistas too breathtaking to be imagined.

We stopped for lunch a short distance away from the rim, before continuing on our trek. The trail meandered along the edge of the rim for a mile or more before turning back into the forest. Thankfully never as close as the first time.

We had already ridden for miles that morning through beautiful aspen woods and across wide green meadows spotted with flowers. Traveling through the Kaibab forest we saw many of the cutest little tassel-eared squirrels who would fuss at us from the ponderosa pines where they lived. The heavy green forest, followed by the colors of the canyon itself offered me a riding experience that I will never forget.

We had traveled westward for three days to get here, and had been rained on for days on end before we finally glimpsed what we had come to see.

While the scenery and views were better than I had imagined, I discovered something more important that trip. I discovered the value of friendship. With new friends and old ones alike, we laughed and shared stories and memories. The trails we ride may be stunning, but to me it is the friendships that we forge along the way that make the trips we take priceless.

I may never get a chance to ride that trail again, but I will never forget it, nor the people who uplifted me and inspired me along the way.

Kerry Greear . . .


Kimba JusticeA steep water-cut gorge; wooded hillsides; windswept fields; challenging natural terrain at the edge of suburbia: these describe

my favorite trails in Bedford Reservation, part of the Cleveland Metropark’s Emerald Necklace. Now considered part of Cuyahoga Valley National Park, Bedford Reservation is dominated by the gorge carved by Tinker’s Creek, a major tributary of the Cuyahoga River. The trails wind up and down through a glorious deciduous and hemlock canopy. Whatever the time of year, beauty abounds!

Spring brings wildflowers; summer has cool waters to swim; autumn color; and the whilte cliffs of winter. What’s more, these trails connect with miles of other trails throughout the combined parks.

At age 11, I began lessons at Bedford’s Circle Emerald Stables. Often confined to the arena, my love became the trail. Within a year I was hired to guide trail rides, then teach lessons and eventually I ran the sta-ble on weekends. When work was done, I would steal away to those wonderful trails! My favorite was “Creek-Crossing Trail,” which featuired several crossings deep in the gorge. When riding between those walls I felt completely free; in anoth-er world altogether. I didn’t own a horse, so I rode any I could borrow. I learned to negotiate challenging situations riding dozens of different mounts, young and old. I explored old trails and made new ones.

Riding the hills, I discovered waterfalls, wildflowers, wildlife and natural beauty while I learned much about the horses and more about myself. I developed quiet confidence and became skilled and trusted enough that I was asked to train horses.

My favorite horse was Snoopy. He truly took care of me, and would do anything I

asked. Snoopy’s owner sold him unexpectedly. I was devastated. Sensing my distress, a kind boarder asked me to train her stubborn mare. “Cheran” had learned to make a rider so miserable that she’d get put away. I didn’t put her away. I took her on my beloved trails. There we developed an understanding, and soon we were going places in the park I’d never been, including trails so steep I tied the reins to the saddle, dismounted, and sent her up the grade while I held on to a stirrup and her tail. Cheran became my first horse.

Though the stable is gone, and I have moved away, I return to Bedford and the gorge every possible chance. I am fortunate to own Cheran’s daughter and grandson and competitive trail is my choice of sport. A recent joy was taking my grandson to Bedford for an all-day excursion. He had never crossed water like that before! Nature had destroyed my “Creek-Crossing Trail,” so we had to find our own. I was a kid again as we picked our way through the gorge, rediscovering it while strengthening our own bond.

I found myself tearing up as I told Chernanigans stories of past mounts and ad-ventures. Bedford’s trails are the beautiful place where I grew up, where I lerned horsemanship, and are still a place I call home.

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Lezli Endicotts I recently moved to Utah from California. I suffer from a nervous system

disorder called Complex Regional Pain Syndrome. It causes my skin to feel burned, among other things, so I needed family and my mother was here in Utah. While feeling that I belong here, I was still homesick for my mountains, friends, and being able to train my horse year-round In California.

Endurance riding has been a dream of mine, and about four years ago, after leaving my job of 25 years as a paramedic due to my illness, I suddenly had the time to condition my Morgan gelding Pooh. I soon discovered I usually felt no pain while riding, so my doctor recommended that I keep riding as it was teaching my brain to tune out the pain.

Over the last four years I have ridden in LD rides as often as my illness would allow. After moving to Utah I rode in the Antelope Island 30 mile ride. I live only three miles from the island. During the ride I discovered trails to train on as well. Since then Pooh and I ride regularly usually on a five-mile loop at White Rock Bay. The trail is so amazingly beautiful that when I begin to feel homesick for riding in the Sierras, I ride on the island and take in the healing beauty. The island is covered with herds of buffalo, antelope, and deer, among other wildlife like foxes and coyotes. I often ride about two-thirds of the way around the loop, then take off up a steep road up and over the top of a mountain. From the top one can see across Salt Lake to the mountains to the west and north, and back down into the valley that I came from often filled with the wildlife that I have described. At the top I am also usually joined by deer and antelope. Though I maintain a safe distance from the buffalo, I can often get fairly close to the antelope and deer – they seem to recognize the horses as being no threat.

The view from the top of the mountain is one of the most beautiful sites that I have encountered on a ride, and definitely has the most (visible) wildlife one can encounter.

Though the cold here in Utah had seemed to make my symptoms of CRPS worse, this ride, and training my horse here is a welcome relief from constant pain.

I hope to participate in more rides next summer if my illness will allow, and hope to ride my first 50-mile endurance ride next summer. I have the dream of riding in the Tevis some day. I’m confident that Pooh can do it if my body will just keep up.

I know that 30 to 35 miles isn’t considered an endurance ride, but I think that term is relative to the challenges one faces at the start.

Lily Turaski On a dirt road way back in the boondocks of East Tennessee is a small

hunting reserve called “Baker’s Creek.” It may not be a big or fancy place, but I smile whenever I think of Baker’s Creek because that’s where I fell in love with horses.

I was 7 when I started training for my first endurance ride. I had never rid-den anywhere other than around the farm when I first went to Baker’s Creek. It was very new and very exciting. I went in a trailer, without my parents, just me, Nana, and our horses. I got to braid my horse’s mane all fancy, and I got to take crackers and granola bars with me on the trail! I was on an adventure, a horsey adventure. And it all happened at Baker’s Creek.

I have learned many lessons during my years of riding at Baker’s Creek. On one of our first rides there, whenever I asked my horse to turn one direction, he tried to go the opposite way. This was very unusual behavior coming from my dependably obedient horse. Eventually Nana realized that I had crossed the reins under his hackamore. No wonder my horse was confused! Nana and I tend to worry about snakes. Well, usually we’re just worried about sticks that happen to look like snakes. After calling “snake” at too many sticks, we started ignoring the snake look-a-likes. One day, I was in the lead, and I came upon a stick. I wasn’t worried; it was just a stick, after all. Only this time it really was a snake!

I have also had many amazing experiences while riding at Baker’s Creek. I will never forget the time when I saw turtles laying their eggs. Nana and I stopped our horses to watch the turtles; they shuffled around digging a hole with their feet before dropping in little white eggs! Several egg-laying turtles were out that day, but I had never seen them before, nor have I seen them since. On a different occasion, we were cantering up a hill surrounded by hayfields when a gaggle of Canada geese flew up out of the fields right under my nose. It was so unexpected; it made my heart beat faster for the next several minutes, and I know my horse



was spooked. Another day I watched a flock of turkeys flying right above my head! Seeing fat-bodied, Thanksgiving-dinner-worthy turkeys fly is always funny, and it was hilarious to see them from underneath.

Since my first ride away from home at Baker’s Creek, I have gone to rides all over the Southeast. I have ridden trails with more interesting terrain and more stunning scenery, but Baker’s Creek holds a special place in my heart. I have learned a lot from my rides there, and the experiences I have had there are unforgettable. It is my favorite place to ride because that’s where I learned to love horses.

Linda FisherRiding with my best friend, Diana Zettlemoyer, has made many trails and rides quite memorable. Why? It’s because she has

written dozens of songs about them and the horses we were on at the time as she trotted down those trails! Since she is no longer riding endurance, due to health reasons, I can relive many of my favorite trails by singing her songs. If you hear the Kenlyn Gang coming up from behind you on a ride, it is most likely because we are singing Diana’s songs!

Endurance rides are memories of one’s life: the great places we’ve seen, the partner relationship between you and your horse, and most of all, the wonderful people you’ve enjoyed it with going down the trails of life. The only thing that makes this better is to have a song in your heart. Either with your equine friend or your riding buddies, going down the trail gives you the opportunity to sing out loud joyfully, and hopefully not too many people are within ear shot! My horse never complains that I can’t carry a tune, thank goodness. My best times have been when I am with Diana, who has a beautiful voice and she belts out another great song.

Here is one of Diana’s songs so you can get an idea of what was so special about riding all my favorite trails with her.(Diana calls this “The Linda Song,” written as we rode the Black Hills ride in South Dakota)

It’s midweek I’m thinking the weekend, looks good for just getting away,

But it’s not bikinis we’re packing, it’s saddles and horses and hay.

I check the schedule for a good one. Oh look, if we can leave today,

A two-day that looks pretty fun, and only 500 miles away!

There once was a time I had lots of time, now life’s full and Linda’s to blame

Since I hooked up with Fisher, well, my life hasn’t been quite the same.

By Friday, the Cummins is rumbling, down highways into the next state

Bad weather has kept us from flying, we pull into camp pretty late.

We unload the horses, they’re wide-eyed and wary of what lies ahead,

But we know and we take no chances..a quick dinner and we’re off to bed.

I’ve been to the midwest, and north and south, New Mexico time and again,


Next morning, we wake up, it’s pouring. I wish I was some other place,

But Dorothy and Phyllis are saddled, darn, it looks like there’ll still be a race.

We slip up the mountains, we slide down . . . near drown in a big muddy bog.

My horse eyeballs me like I was crazy . . . and he wishes he’d been born a dog.

I’ve ridden through windstorms and heat and cold,

through thunder and lightning and rain


The sun finally makes an appearance . . . it touches with it’s gentle rays.

And slowly we warm up and dry out, my horse even picks up his pace.

The rest of the ride is a blessing, the finish line’s just round the bend

And I never thought that I’d say this, but I’m sorry this ride’s at its end.

It’s funny and somehow amazing how something so insane keeps me sane

Since I hooked up with Fisher, well my life’s never been quite the same.

My life never will be the same.

Nor will mine ever be quite the same either. Thanks, Diana, for making so many trails, rides, horses and situations so memorable.

Lily Turaski . . .


Lisa MeloneOrris Falls: Harley’s Training Ground – Deer, turkeys, and boulders—oh my! These are just a few things Harley has encountered in

the Orris Falls Conservation Area. Transitioning from an off-track Thoroughbred to my trail buddy has been a journey for both of us.My first goal was to walk Harley down the road without him whirling for home. Being a bit herd-bound, this was a challenge.

Each ride, we’d try to progress a little further down the trail. He walked down dark, hemlock-shaded passages where demons haunted the swamps. Then we had to make it through the brook that burbled under a foot bridge and into Orris Falls. Each step brought more confidence to Harley and me. Walking along the chasm by the falls, Harley cocked his head sideways, keeping a cautious eye and ear on the tumbling water, far below. When we crossed the brook without faltering, I knew he’d reached a milestone in his training.

Hikers marked the trail with rock cairns. Harley spooked at these, sure they were woodland creatures stalking us. The large erratic boulders scattered throughout this region, such as Balancing Rock, tell me the history of the glaciers that scoured through this area eons ago. For Harley, they are granite giants, ready to roll over him any day now. When the forest monsters scare him, I have to laugh, remain calm, and stroke his neck, assuring him all is well. Our trail mantra is, “Your O.K”, although he’s often not convinced.

Orris Falls is home to abundant wildlife, most of which Harley has encountered. Deer at dusk, ghost through the trees, broad-winged hawks soar overhead, turkeys scratch in the leaves, wood ducks call from the beaver pond, and hoards of chipmunks and squirrels scramble among the rocks and trees.

Harley surprised me when we took him skijoring our first winter. With my partner John in the saddle, I held on to our rigged harness. I doubted Harley could handle this, but he proved me wrong. I stepped into my cross-country skis at the Orris Falls Trail head and we were off—Harley smartly trotting down the trail, pulling me along. When we reached the down hill portions, John hauled in the grab loops and I glided past Harley until I could grab hold again. He was a star!

We added two more OTTB’s to our herd two years ago. Harley has taken the lead in trouble spots on the trail when the fillies balked at the brook crossing, overhanging trees, and other obstacles they had never encounted. When he’s with his girls, Harley’s inner brave soul shines through.

Harley is still a work in progress, learning to handle himself on the trails. But he can now do a complete circuit ride of the loops in Orris Falls without issue. Oh he’ll still spook, especially when we’re out there alone at dusk, but we’re partners.

Maribel PaulsenYou know those times in your life when you are doing something so splendid that it doesn’t even register until later? How about

those moments that grab you right away? When your heart pittypats and you find yourself staring in wonder at a vista containing colors that seem surreal, in an expanse that you could not begin to capture in a panoramic photo? When the sun warms your bones and the company is so good that there is no need for words? Then you absorb some of it, and you sigh, and the peace that is within you makes you feel downright religious. Then your horse signs and it is perfect. All of those kinds of moments happened for me at the Moab Canyonlands ride.

This has been on my bucket list for quite some time. Earle Baxter and I were lucky enough to attend this year. We arrived three days early for some much-needed rest and spent some of that time sightseeing. If you can, try to visit The Arches, Canyonlands and Dead Horse Point. You will barely believe your eyes.

Then we started riding. We rode through canyons with vertical red walls and saw the most stupendous rock formations, some of them with inexplicable holes. Repeatedly I asked myself: “Am I really trotting over slick rock?” I was. Actually, that sandstone rock has more traction that one would think. Wipe Out Hill was not even that bad. (I›d had stress the day before over the name.) It is a legendary challenge for dirt bikes and mountain bikes as well.

While riding, we pretended to be Indians. Surely many of those places were considered sacred. My favorite place was a canyon through which a natural spring passed. The golden cottonwood leaves contrasted beautifully wiht the red walls. The smell and sound of the fresh water added to the beauty.

Can you believe that there was even rodeo entertainment on Day 2? Yes, Christoph Schork showed that he can ride a bucking horse for at LEAST eight seconds. Ride ’em cowboy!

You might think that these are all the high points. They are not! We happily finished three days on both of our horses. On the second day, my horse, Julie, passed her 1200 mile point for the YEAR. What a pony. I also reached my 6000 mile plateau, which was trivial compared to everything else.

The perfect weather, nice awards, well-marked trails and warm, welcoming hosts added to this truly memorable ride. Hopefully, this is not our last one there.

Thanks for going on an adventure, Sheri [Griffiths, the Moab Canyonlands ride manager], and for taking us with you.


Mary Lynne CarpenterWhen people think of trail riding in Indiana, most horsemen picture riding in Southern Indiana

where green forests and hilly woods abound. I live in the Hoosier State, but because I reside north of Indianapolis, getting to Southern Indiana is about a six-hour round trip trailer ride, making regular jaunts to that location prohibitive. Instead, I prefer to visit the trails within a couple of hours or less from my home. My favorite of these is Westwood Park in New Castle, Indiana.

Westwood features about six miles of mainly wooded trails that circle around a gorgeous lake. The views of the lake as you come in and out of woods and go up and down the hills are so pretty and inspiring. A photo of me and one of my horses standing in front of the lake is my most treasured horse photograph. Westwood holds a special place in my heart because it was actually the first place that I trail rode my very first horse about 10 years ago. I have many good memories of later trail rides like when I proudly led my riding group down the trail for the first time and when I participated in an exhilarating group canter over one of the open paths.

I don’t have the opportunity to venture over to Westwood very often, but perhaps that is why it remains a special place for me a decade after my first visit. It makes me appreciate the quiet trails, shady woods and scenic lake views all the more.

Melissa Arpin My favorite trail is on an Air Force base in Northern California. Many folks

don’t know that nearly all of the older bases in the US either have or used to have a place to board horses. This particular trail is about five miles long – I found it before I knew distance riding existed. Much of it is along roads, but there are cow pastures to navigate as well.

Leaving the barn, my mare and I would turn right along the road. In half a mile, there is a decline, a shallow water crossing, then a very steep and intimidating climb. Anyone who has been in the Sierra foothills can imagine – that particular hill must be a 55% incline. No horse that I’ve seen can do anything but walk up it, and most need a lot of encouragement to even do that. It’s a fairly easy ride from there. About a quarter mile down, you cross the road and open the gate to a pasture. These pastures are rented out to local ranchers in the winter months, and it’s only “legal” to ride through them after the cattle have been moved. Follow a winding cattle trail through the hills to a water trough, and continue to follow down into a little river valley – trees and shade! Eventually, the trail crosses a path made by the ATVs that the base cops drive. I find this part of the trail particularly fun as the ATVs had to find the easiest paths, but on my original ATV I can go up steep embankments and through the brush. It’s not long before we hit another gate and a road. After leaving the pasture, we have to cross three small, one-lane bridges. This can get very interesting when drivers are anxious to get past. On the other side of the bridges, we head up a very long hill. About halfway up the hill, we start passing houses. At the top, there’s a large playground, and it’s great fun to hear the kids shouting about the horses – especially knowing that I used to be a kid just like that. Seeing horses was just so exciting! In another half mile, we turn left onto another road. This particular road has really open areas on either side before narrowing into a two-lane bridge. This bridge can be dangerous. The speed limit is 35, and you are suspended 20 feet above a riverbed full of huge granite rocks. Drivers will move to the other lane, but most don’t slow very much if at all. I once had a fire truck come up from behind me and my mare. As he got beside us, he let off his air brakes and my horse nearly jumped out of her skin. Twenty-five feet or so after the bridge, we’re in the clear and can ride through a large open field, cross a small road, and head back up to the barn.

Morgan Winter There is one trail that speaks to me above the others; Quina’s Trail (pronounced QUEEN-NA) is dedicated to a beautiful black

Arabian mare that was the soul mate to Joyce, the owner of the barn. Though Quina has been gone for a while, there is still her blood running through the pastures she called home. Her last two babies, bred by Joyce, are still here. Her trail is single track and follows a creek until veering up onto a ridge, passing through aspens, forest, open fields of wildflowers and finally at the top, a stunning view of the city below. I love this trail.

Hank and I have traveled it many times. Cantering through the wildflowers and feeling the blanket of calm awareness that the mountains give, I can let go of trouble and heartache. The whisper of the grass tells the stories of the past and I know when we crest the ridge Quina is there reigning over her kingdom. Her mane blowing in the wind and her nostrils flared and I feel honored to admire the land beside her. Recently, Joyce has been diagnosed with brain and lung cancer and the future feels very uncertain. I find myself riding Quina’s trail a lot as a way to think and stay grounded. Imagining the two of them flying down it and racing



along the ridge just like old times replaces the image of Joyce lying in the hospital bed. The trail is healing me and in some ways healing the relationship between Hank and I. We had a rough year last, with a severe head injury from a fall off of him and then the months of self-anger and confusion after that. The connection that Joyce and Quina had is an inspiration to me to find mine with Hank. We have been rebuilding trust between us.

Joyce has taught me a lot of what I know, my only wish is for her to come home and ride the trails again, but I know that if she can’t then Quina is waiting to carry her up to Heaven where they can be together again. As I write, this trail is silvered in frost and the snow sparkles in the sun, glinting like a million diamonds. The forest seems to be holding its breath, in anticipation, then – here she comes!

Quina, may your memory always be strong and your hoof beats loud, thank you for the peace you bring.

Peggy ThompsonThe Michaux State Forest trail, located within the 85,000-acre Michaux State Forest in Pennsylvania, creates an unmatched

panoramic and spiritual event for endurance riders to enjoy throughout each of the seasons. Stretching out over eight sequential mountain peaks, this is an awe-inspiring trail that evokes emotional responses summed up by the phrase, “We’re going to ride THAT?” The jaw-dropping vistas range from panoramic pastoral views of tiny square farms and homes dotting a distant landscape, to wilderness-inspired views in which fortunate horses and riders watch red-tailed hawks soar below their height.

The trail also provides the best training location imaginable. With its expansive up and down topography, the climbs are af-fectionately known by such names as “Ecstasy,” “Heartbreak” and “Agony.” The system allows the neophyte to ride the trail at a walk, learning balance in ever-changing conditions. It challenges the intermediate rider/horse team with an opportunity to climb miles of challenging hills, each ending with a well-deserved small stream at the bottom, and an inspiring view from the top. Finally, it provides an unequalled opportunity for interval training for the strong and brave, allowing an increased fitness opportunity even at moderate speeds.

But the Michaux trail isn’t just a static one-snapshot wonder; it is an ever-changing seasonal delight as well. Spring erupts with seas of mountain laurel cresting up the slopes. Mowed down every few years, each spring the trail succeeds in winning the battle of machine-against-nature with a dazzling display of tiny pink cup-shaped flowers. In early summer, the wild turkeys try to take over the trail by surprising interlopers with their explosive flight out of the grassland cover. A few weeks later, scores of baby turkeys are frequently seen scattering out of the way of flying hooves, peeping frantically for mom. Later in summer, the trail is home to cardinal-red flowers, seas of waving natural grasses, and puffy cumulus cloud formations. White-tail deer and brilliant red, orange, and yellow leaves are equally spectacular in the Fall. Winter can be the most spectacular season of all, with waves of snow cascading down the opposing mountain side like a silent, moving living creature. This can be the best time, in which there is no evidence of civilization anywhere; in which the rider/horse duo become one with nature.

The Michaux trail transforms all problems into distant memories and succeeds in reminding anyone lucky enough to explore it how very fortunate they are. At the end of the day, those privileged enough to ride this trail system look back and say, with well-deserved satisfaction, “Yes, we DID ride that!”

Sarah Taylor I love riding at Horseback River Riding Trails! The scenery is beautiful! We go through forested trails, along river banks, through

grassy meadows, and down country sides. Whenever I ride alone at Horseback River Riding Trails, I feel like I’m connecting with my horse. The only sound is the river, the birds, and the wind. It’s so peaceful there that I wish I could just keep on riding. The more I ride there the more I feel that I’m actually connecting with my horse.

Sometimes at Horseback River Riding Trails my horse and I canter, sometimes gallop, across the country side and jump across the river banks. Whenever we gallop across the country side, I feel free and that I could ride on and on without stopping, leaving the world behind us. It’s such a wonderful feeling!

And when I ride in the fall, the leaves are beautiful and it makes the countryside look amazing!

Sheila AustinMy favorite trail was discovered the first time I went riding out for the first time

since my move from Florida to North Carolina in the Pisgah National Forest. Natu-rally, I chose to ride out at the closest trail head to where I lived, which happened to be the North Mills River area of the park – at the Wash Creek Campgrounds. It was October and the air was cool and crisp, unlike the soggy, humid air that I had grown accustomed to back in Florida. After tacking up my quarter horse gelding, Boadie,

Morgan Winter . . .



I set sail to a clearly marked trail that took me up to the highest ridge in the area, Trace Ridge, which was vibrant with the colors of fall, peaceful, and quiet. Due to the recent leaf fall, I was able to see for miles around me, bringing a sense of awe and wonder that I never felt when trail riding in Florida. As we made our way down from the ridge, into the holler, we crossed multiple streams, creeks and obstacles that before I could only imagine seeing in a travel guide book or magazine for vacations.

It was then I realized although I would miss my friends and family back home, this was my new home and these trails intertwined through my heart and soul like the creeks cut through the mountains.

Stacey StearnsEvery trail is my favorite. It’s not a location, but a feeling. When I’m trail riding my soul is recharging, I feel content and grounded

again. When I return from a trail ride, I’m always smiling, feeling inspired, and ready to take on whatever the world throws my way. Trail riding has helped me through major life events, to find balance at the end of a busy day, and strengthened my relationships

with friends and family. It would be impossible to pick a favorite. Helen Thompson said, “In riding a horse, we borrow freedom.” I would edit that quote to say, in trail riding a horse, we share freedom.

Growing up, I hated trail riding. I wasn’t a confident rider and the endless possibilities of the trails intimidated me. I stayed in the ring and thought I was happy. Then, I went to France in college and our host families took us on a trail ride. As I was cantering my gray gelding down a quiet country rode, I finally understood why everyone loved trail riding.

Five years ago, I was diagnosed with cancer. During the six months I was on chemotherapy, trail riding my Morgan gelding around our dairy farm was my escape from reality. Some days, he truly babysat me, but going for a quiet ride through the fields and woods rejuvenated my spirit and reminded me that the whole world wasn’t crumbling to pieces.

A couple of years later, when the devastating loss of a horse friend hit me, I sought solace on the trails once again. A few days after Katrina died, another friend and I took to the trails in our local state park. It was late November, and we had the trails to ourselves. As we rode along, we talked about Katrina, horses, and how unfair life could sometimes be. But for the first time in days, I felt somewhat normal again, and riding through the woods with my favorite horse and a friend gave me that.

Trail riding isn’t just about getting me through the hard times though. It’s the bond I share with my younger brother, and my favorite memories of him, and the most in-depth conversations we’ve had, were all out on the trail. We laugh, talk about life, and also ride along in complete silence, just enjoying our horses and the trail.

My schedule is insane. I work two jobs, volunteer, and have the same busy life that everyone else does. Trail riding gives me the opportunity to spend a few quiet hours in the saddle. When I’m out on the trail, everything else disappears and the only thing I think about is riding my horse and enjoying the trail in front of us. We can be on a trail we’ve ridden hundreds of times, or a brand new trail, but the feelings of peace and balance I have when trail riding never change. And that is priceless.

Vicki Austin I have one 23-26 mile training loop in the mountains in Maine that I really love. It is rough, steep, rocky, technical footing. It is

also peaceful, quiet, spiritual and I LOVE it! Baby and I train there every couple weeks during the summer.On my last ride there, we started climbing the first rocky ascend at our usual

slow trot. Baby suddenly was breathing very hard, puffing, begging to stop. Not like her at all! I quickly hopped off, took my stethoscope out to check her, ready to turn around for home if needed, heart sounds were normal for that climb, gut sounds were perfect – she was snatching for grass. “You’re OK,” I chuckled. Though the temperature was very cool, she was sweating heavily.

“Well, Baby, I need the exercise too so I will walk with you for a while.”We continued the climb, me walking beside her. Soon I was huffing and

puffing too! “This is weird, Baby.” My lungs are going to explode. “Feels like no air at all

here.” We may have to turn for home after all. We took a break. Baby ate. I breathed and took a drink of my water.At the top of that rise was suddenly a breeze of fresh, clean, cool air! This is

very weird. We both felt better immediately. Puzzling over this phenomenon, I took a drink of water, offered some to Baby by pouring some into my scoop. She wasn’t interested so I poured it back. Baby, munching grass and starting to dry, was soon breathing normally.

“OK, Baby, time to move on.” After climbing back on, I picked up the reins and we started across the top of that plateau at a trot. Looking at the view from this height was awesome but I knew there was even better viewing up ahead over the next climb.

Coming out into the clearing, Baby cocked her left ear back, and slid over to the right of the trail as if I had asked her to led

Sheila Austin . . .



yield. I had not. I quickly took a peek behind us wondering why she did that. Nothing there. As I felt a rush of air on my left, Baby pricked up her ears, slid back to the middle again and picked up a canter, without being asked. Trying to catch up to . . .?

This happened three more times on the flats, during our ascend and descend of those two mountains. Perhaps we had ghost riders with us? Previous competitors? Other animals from the area? Baby acted like it was a competition

and this was perfectly normal. I find it comforting to think there might be angelic horses and riders looking out for us. That ride was just before my surgery so I have not had a chance to get back up there. I hope to get to ride there one more time

before deer rifle hunting starts. Have to see if our friends are still there!

A First Year – and Ride – to Rememberby Hilda Donahue

Greetings from Florida, I am a new AERC member and have so enjoyed my first year as a member. Your sport is awesome! I have competed at the top level (4 Star/upper level/Olympic level on many occasions) and find this endurance riding sport fantastic. I thought you might enjoy reading my article that was published recently on Eventingnation.com . It did receive good comments / reviews. I hope to encourage more eventers to participate in your great sport and look forward myself to doing more endurance riding in 2014! Thank you AERC for all you do.

The drive into Virginia City, Nevada, for my first endurance ride (nothing less than a 100 mile ride!) was certainly a foreshadowing of what was to come. The town was built literally on the side of a mountain with elevations of 7500’. As we trailered towards base camp (the equivalent to our stabling area) I kept looking for grassy trails. No such thing, we were in high desert land with mountains primarily comprised of quartz rock.

Interestingly, Virginia City used to be the richest gold mining areas in the U.S. From 1860-1880 approximately $400 million was taken out of the ground. Lucky me, I was about to experience this historic area on a beautiful horse, Patrick’s Fire, loaned to me by my sister-in-law.

Ride day began at 3:30 a.m. I awoke to howling winds (30 mph!) and a weather report that was less than favorable for any outdoor activity. Like any motivated event competitor, not riding was not an option, besides which, having grown up in Ireland, I was well accustomed to challenging weather. Little did I know or indeed anticipate that snow flurries awaited Patrick & me!

By 4:30 a.m. I was ready to mount. Patrick clearly was ready. The moment I got in the tack he gave an entertaining display of enthusiasm – it was an acrobatic per-formance including leaps, levades, caprioles and bucks in the dark on asphalt. The thought of falling off before I ever got to the start line was beyond comprehension . . . how would I ever explain not even making it to the start? Patrick attracted con-siderable attention. I can assure you that I was now fully awake and ready to ride.

Forty-nine horse and rider combinations started, mostly Arabians. The youngest rider was 13, the oldest 71 years old.The previous day’s activities included the pre-ride vet check and a rider meeting, both similar to what we experience at CIC‘s & CCI’s. The vet check was extremely thorough, with every rider given a detailed chart that has to be produced at the many subsequent checks. Things like capillary refill time, jugular refill, mucous membranes, the horse’s attitude are all monitored. Acceptable pulse and respiration are determined according to weather and terrain; horses have to reach the required pulse and respiration at each stop to be allowed continue.

There is no stabling at these rides; horses either stay tied overnight to their trailer; a high-tie system appeared to be safe and popular, or small pens are erected. If horses are in pens, bedding is not put down. It is very different to our manner of setting up an elaborate stabling area with deep bedding, horses in stable bandages, magnetic blankets, etc. These Arabians are tough and simple good old-fashioned horse care is practiced.

Vicki Austin . . .



After about a mile hack to the start, all riders gathered outside the Del-ta Saloon. It reminded me of hunt meets back in my native Ireland except it was pitch dark, no pack of hounds and no master to lead the way. The possibly of getting lost was my greatest fear. A hundred miles over foreign terrain following a trail marked with flour and ribbons tied to shrubs just did not give me much comfort. Those of you who know me are well aware how directionally challenged I am in daylight with GPS. Thank goodness that I did in a sense have a “master” – my sister-in-law, Sharon, to ride with. Sharon and family are all familiar with the VC trail.

Ten miles into the ride Patrick settled down nicely ; his walk was relaxed, his trot more efficient; cantering was kept to a minimum but when we did, he felt fantastic. As dawn broke I could not help but be moved by the beauty of the scenery. How fortunate was I, enjoying a wonderful horse, riding with experienced Sharon in historic, picturesque VC? My biggest problem was that I had lost my hairnet and my spare one was hard to access while navigating and riding in the dark! I was the only person riding with a hair net, lipstick and polished boots – I felt a bit odd!

At 18 miles there was a trot-by where the vets observe soundness. Pat-rick felt and looked great. Sadly, Sharon’s older mare was mildly uneven behind. When we reached the first 45 minute vet check at 24 miles, Sharon sensibly withdrew her mare. In true good sportsmanship style, Sharon never complained and got to work advising me on how to continue successfully with Patrick. I, of course, was horrified at the thought of losing my “mas-ter.” While the Mc Kenzie, Dutcher and Finston family team (these guys are pros at this) attended to Patrick’s needs during the 45-minute break, I pulled myself together, chanting, “You rode and completed at Adelaide on a horse called Kelycin FIASCO, so you can easily do this!”

Off I went, ALONE, into the unknown; thankfully it was daylight and after a few miles I caught up with the delightful Lou Smith Egstrom. She lives in the VC area and is an accomplished dressage and endurance rider, so how perfect was that?! Luck of the Irish, St.Patrick, and/or my prayers with my husband that morning paid off.

By now Patrick and I had become quite the team; he had established an impressive trot rhythm, covering the ground with maximum ease and efficiency. He told me when he needed walk breaks, I was selective where I cantered and guided him around the many rocks we encountered.

We climbed and descended 7800’ with grueling terrain. I was thankful to have the superbly comfortable Voltaire saddle to sit on while allowing Patrick use his back comfortably along with his Thin Line pad. Patrick sure-footedly navigated his way up and down while I did my best to stay out of his way.

Rather amusing along the way was our experience with a herd of wild Mustangs who tried to follow us – I know I am desperate to have another event horse but this was not my idea of how to acquire one!

Not so amusing was the drastic weather changes; we encountered everything from high winds to snow flurries.At the 36 mile, 15-minute vet check, Patrick was in 11/12th and looking good. Each vet check stop was bustling with activity.

Patrick’s crew got to work immediately, watering and feeding him, massaging his muscles, tending to his legs, removing and checking tack. I stood back, feeling helpless, but felt comfort in observing their experience. Thank you Sharon, Bob, Karon, Scott, Dustin, Ken, Jeff and Carolyn.

After the successful vet check we trucked along and headed to the section of the ride referred to as the SOB’s due to the hor-rifically steep descent and climb which you encounter three times in a row. Patrick cleverly navigated his way up and down; I did my best to stay out of his way.

The next stop was at 51miles back at base camp in Virginia City. Once again, I was met by the dream team and after the mandatory one-hour hold we set off again into the wilderness. ur goal now was to deal with the predicted very high winds and freezing temperatures while getting to the 75-mile vet check before dark. This check was back again at base camp in VIrginia City after a big loop back around the mountains. Despite strong winds and snow flurries ( Saint) Patrick soldiered on. By 5:30 pm (12 and a half hours into the ride), the 75-mile stop was in sight. My instructions were to dismount about 1/4 mile away, loosen the girth and calmly lead Patrick in so he arrived with a low heart rate, looking good and hopefully relaxed. Of course, shortly after I dismounted, right as Sharon approached to throw a cooler over him, Patrick spooked badly. The wind had picked up even more and caused a piece of tin metal dislodged from a roof to create a potential horse-eating terrifying noise! Patrick was close to being unmanageable for a few moments and in his swift “flight” instinct, stepped on his coronary band. We were literally 300 meters from the vet check. Patrick’s team iced his mild but sensitive injury but despite all efforts he jogged unsound.

A First Year . . .



Like all event riders know, the decision to not continue is never easy but always the correct one. Although I only got to ride 75 miles, I was thrilled with the fact that Patrick had taken me over that distance in wretched

weather over terrain like I had never encountered in 11 hours.The next morning Patrick sure looked good; what a relief!With great interest I watched the vets assess what horse was worthy of the Best Condition award. The top 10 finishers are pre-

sented and jog, turn sharply, halt, trot on, are flexed, examined thoroughly and their attitude assessed. I am proud to share that my husband Ken is a former recipient of this coveted award.

The awards ceremony and breakfast was an enjoyable gathering. These endurance riders, not unlike most of us eventers, are a hard-working, helpful group who love their horses and seem to genuinely care about each other and their sport.

With great interest I learned that the winning horses (this was an historic tie!) completed in 13 hours. The slowest horse com-pleted in 20 hours and 13 minutes – a great accomplishment, as AERC’s motto states, “To finish is to win”.

I did not finish, I did not win, however I had the most incredible riding experience, met some wonderful people and was reminded how awesome the McKenzie family is as they teamed together to ensure the horses’ well-being. Not unlike eventing, where there is a team behind the scenes that is key to any riders success, those ”crewing“ at these rides are invaluable – I could not have ridden the 75 miles without them. I have to also give credit to Andrea Cannon back in Florida for managing things at Ashmore while I was off in the mountains in Nevada! Without a doubt, I want to thank some of my sponsors: Tredstep Ireland, Voltaire Design & Thin Line, for helping myself and Patrick ride in comfort and style.

After the busy Winter/Spring season here with students eventing, I am told that in March I will be starting back again with Patrick . . . “onwards”!

Adventures at Biltmore 2013by Julia Fisher

Solid and uncontested Turtle Award from the endurance ride at the Biltmore Estate, Saturday 9/21/2013. Time to complete 50 miles: 11 hrs. 31 mins. Sheesh!!! This was a “Story Ride.” Some rides you just go, do the miles, get a completion/placement, and go home. Others have a “story.”

Here is the story:Along with some 40 riders, I set out on the trails for the 50 mile ride in the dark, at 7:00 a.m. I had been up at 5:00 to feed Maya

and have enough time to carefully put her “gloves” on her bare feet before the ride. There were 60 riders poised to leave at 8 am for the 30 mile division on some of the same trails. Our first loop was 17 miles. Sunrise wasn’t until 7:22 and very quickly I realized that my night blindness was going to handicap me enough to demand a crash course in riding “by feel.” My little Egyptian Arab mare, Maya, is very particular about her footing and the terrain, and specifically was skirting serious mud holes and any standing water. I had to sense when she was going to scoot left or right in time to adjust my seat, because I mostly couldn’t see the obstacles myself. We were in the front group and running with the first six or seven horses; which meant we were cantering on hilly, rocky, muddy trails that I couldn’t even see.

I reminded myself of the special light receptors in horses’ retinas that afford them much better night vision than humans, and I determined to trust her judgment. At one mud hole, Maya simply ran up the left bank of the trail into the trees to avoid the muck. Very quickly she realized that she’d stranded herself about 2 ½ feet above the trail on a little ledge. She was cantering and when she realized her predicament, glanced to the left for a way out, still looking to avoid the mud on the trail to the right. But through the now sparse trees to the left was a dark abyss – potentially a serious drop of unknown distance. I sensed quickly that she had abandoned that route, as she turned her attention and she realized that the only alternative she had was a jump to the right – and she wasn’t slowing down. So, I prepared myself for the jump. Without breaking stride, she gathered herself up, launched herself off of the ledge at an angle, and once back down onto the trail, she cantered on.

By 7:30 there was plenty of light for me to make my first inspection of Maya’s boots. I had invested a year in research and a serious amount of money in special hoof protection, as she hasn’t done well with metal shoes. We had spent the past six weeks training in the new boots at distance and speed, so I was stunned to realize that she’d already lost three out of four boots – in the first 30 minutes of the first loop. After all my careful preparation and training, I was forced to get down and remove the one remaining boot from her left front foot, and release the torn pastern wraps from two other legs where remnants of the gaiters were flapping on her lower legs. Even though I pulled her to the side, she was not inclined to stand still and let me mess with her boots on the narrow trail with dozens of horses trying to rush past her in the thin light. I was forced to hold her off the edge of the trail until all of the riders immediately behind us were out of sight ahead of us.

Back in the saddle, I found I had no way to juggle the pieces of the boots and still move out. I attached the velcro closures to the breast collar but they didn’t hold. I ended up dropping them again, and then lost a lot more time retracing my steps and col-


A First Year . . .


lecting them off the trail, while trying to carry them on my saddle. As it was threatening to rain, I had tied my rain poncho to the saddle, so I ended up wrapping the boot pieces in the hood of the poncho and tying it off as a little bag. I was pretty sure that I was in last place by this time. But Maya hadn’t lost her enthusiasm for the ride and was quite willing to make time to try to catch any or all of those horses that had passed us.

Fairly quickly I was able to catch up with Lynne Gilbert and her friend and start making some time. Lynne is the woman from Virgina who just finished the Mongol Derby last August in seventh place. A 1,000 kilometer race across the Mongolian Steppes on barely broke Mongolian ponies, this was no small accomplishment, and I was anxious to hear about her experience as we rode. Her friend eventually dropped back and Lynne and I picked up our pace. We were able to finish the first loop in not terrible time (just about 2 hours for the 17 miles) and in a respectable position.

Maya passed the vet check with no issues – in spite of her now bare feet, and I used our 40-minute hold to have a protein bar and a bottle of water. By the time Lynne and I took off for the second (19 mile) loop it was raining – not heavy, but steady. We were about 12 miles into the loop and making good time – had even passed a number of riders, when Lynne’s horse went around a sharp right turn, and caught some wet grass on the banked edge of the trail. He scrambled, lost his footing, and his feet went out from under him. As he came crashing down on his right side, he fell on her and broke her right leg.

A CT scan a few days later confirmed that she needed pins and screws to put it back together, but at the time all she knew what that she’d heard a distinct pop when the horse’s full weight had landed on the ankle. I always ride with my cell phone and, as soon as I confirmed that she was stable, I called ride management and relayed our situation and position. The irony of surviving the Mongol Derby unscathed only to break her leg at the Biltmore Estate was not lost on Lynne. Management promised to send a car for her and a trailer for her horse right away. As riders passed us, a number offered rain gear to help keep Lynne warm, one managed to catch her horse who had run off after he fell. I walked the two horses up and back on the trail in front of the spot she was sitting to keep them from cramping up. It was raining in earnest now and they were both in danger of getting chilled, as I waited with her.

By the time ride management came to collect her, I was pretty sure Maya and I were dead last, and Maya was traumatized that her trail buddy was getting in that trailer. She fought with me all the way back to camp – six miles – which took well over an hour. I managed to come off that second loop along with Jesse, the first place 50 miler. He had just won the race. It was very demoralizing. The whole time I had waited with Lynne, I had imagined that I would finish the ride. But the last six miles of struggling with Maya just to get her to move along the trail, and being so far behind the front runners was seriously demoralizing.

Jesse strongly encouraged me to finish, even that far back in the group. My daughter, Rachel, pushed me too – in the interest of the principle and the motto of our sport: To finish is to win! The 19-mile second loop had taken us almost four hours to complete. But Maya received even better vet scores in the second check than she had in the first. Again, in spite of being barefoot, she was following her classic routine of just steadily ticking away the miles. I was beginning to feel a bit tired, completely drenched, but overall, I was in pretty good shape. I had a sandwich and a couple of bottles of water, and felt even better. I was beginning to feel that I needed to finish this race, if only to justify the investment of time and energy and emotion.

We took off for the third loop (14 miles) in a heavy, pouring rain. The out-timer assured me that there were actually two riders behind me who hadn’t even come in off the second loop yet, so I would likely not be last rider in. Almost immediately, we discovered that all of the wonderful, scenic, hilly trails had become either mud slides or grass slides. Several hours of serious rain and 100 horses had left them a mess. Maya worked hard picking her way down the steep trails or up, scrambling to keep her footing going up the other side. We couldn’t do anything faster than a walk, and a couple of times I was anxious that it was potentially dangerous to even be in the saddle, with her feet sliding out from under her so often. A rider had just gone to the hospital for x-rays, after all.

A little more than eight miles in, at the top of a particularly grueling climb, Maya just stopped altogether, and wouldn’t go on. She was done. I didn’t argue with her, but got off intending to walk the next descent and ascent and then remount. But when we got to the top of the next hill, there was another ahead of us; and another; and another. I couldn’t make any real time because I was slipping as badly as she had been. I had been pretty well soaked to the bone, but in short order, I was covered with mud from falling up and down the trails, turning my ankles in the roots and on the rocks. I gave up trying to go around puddles as my boots were definitively full of water. I did remount once, on a level piece of trail, and Maya carried me a few hundred yards to the next place that demanded a climb, and then she stopped again. So we walked in those last six miles.

At one of the last road crossings, about two miles from camp, a car pulled over and the driver exclaimed that the management had already claimed all the riders were back in camp. Apparently those two elusive riders who had been behind me had pulled out of the race without attempting the third loop. Was I with the endurance ride? I was a bit disturbed by that. I was fine, of course, but if something had actually happened to me, would anyone have been looking for me? Well, my daughter, of course. The driver promised to alert the ride manager to my imminent arrival. I was cheered at the finish line by out-timer Nancy Gooch and Stagg Newman, who offered me half of a Snickers bar. Go me and Maya! She trotted through the vet check, barefoot for the majority of the 50 miles of gravel and rocks, but sound! So we were able to get our completion and awarded credit for the miles, and the Turtle Award was ours!

Yes, that’s “the short version.” Lots of bonding with new people, old friends, and my horse. Altogether a successful ride! Lynne ended up with plates and screws in her ankle and we send her good wishes and hopes for speedy recovery!!

Adventures at Biltmore . . .

https://www.facebook.com/lynne.gilbert.7?directed_target_id=0


March 7 & 8, 2014Atlanta, Georgia

Sheraton Gateway Atlanta Airport

Hotel Reservations:

800-325-3535(see below for details)

Convention sign-ups by mail or by phone:

866-271-2372We ask a lot of our horses. And the hallmark of endurance riders is the care and concern that we show to our equine partners. Without healthy horses, we wouldn’t be able to spend hours out on the trails,

enjoying their companionship. The 2014 convention focuses on how to train, compete and rack up mileage, all while doing your best for your equine partner.

And, as always, there will be ample opportunity to visit old friends, make new ones, celebrate this year’s accomplishments and lifetime achievements, and kick up your heels at the Friday night dance.

Did we mention shopping? The AERC convention is THE PLACE to check out the latest and greatest can’t-do-without saddles, tack, clothing and everything horse.

The seminar line-up is fabulous—you’ll hear the latest research, find out more about colic, and . . . well, every minute spent in the seminars will be valuable to you. (See back cover for seminar presenters/topics.)

While you can’t bring your horse to the convention, you’ll bring home enough knowledge to make a difference in the way you plan both your rides and your endurance career.

There’s something to do just about every hour of the day, starting with Hot Topics seminars in the early morning, and ending with a dance to the Southern rock band, Men of Soul, on Friday night

and the national awards banquet to close the convention on Saturday evening.

Sign up using the form on the next page or by calling the office, 866-271-2372. We’ll also be able to answer any questions you may have about the convention. (Full schedule in next month’s EN!)

Sheraton Gateway Hotel Atlanta Airportreservation line: 800-325-3535 (say you’re with AERC!)

or reserve your room online:https://www.starwoodmeeting.com/Book/aercannualconvention

$99 per night + 15% tax for 1-2 people, 1K or 2dbl. • $20 extra person; $20 rollaway • Free health club access

Reserve by 2/3/14; 7 day cancellation notice required. One night deposit plus tax charged at the time of reservation.

Free shuttle every 20 minutes from nearby Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport

But wait . . . there’s more! Atlanta has so much to offer, and we hope

you’ll plan visits to some of the area’s attractions before or after the convention:

Georgia Aquarium (13 miles away) • Atlanta Motor Speedway (22 miles away, and tours are just $5!)

Braves Museum & Hall of Fame/Turner Field (10 miles away)

Atlantic Station, Atlanta’s new retail and entertainment district (15 miles away)

See y’all in Atlanta!


2014 AERC Convention Seminar Line-upFriday, March 7

Jeff Pauley, Certified Journeyman FarrierShoeing for Specific Needs:

Keeping Endurance Horses Going9:00 a.m. - 10:30 a.m.

Mr. Pauley will share his insight on how to best keep your equinesin competition, and will address the issues that can arise which may

alter your hoof care strategy.

Kira Epstein, DVM, Dip ACVS, DACVECCWhat Happens If Your

Endurance Horse Colics?11:00 a.m. - 12:30 p.m.

Dr. Epstein, a clinical associate professor at the University of Georgia College of Veterinary Medicine, will cover evaluation and treatment

of colic, from field veterinarian to referral hospital topost-hospitalization care and rehabilitation.

Martin Vidal, BVSc, MS, PhD, Dip ACVS, DACVECCCurrent Topics in Equine Lameness

2:00 p.m. - 3:30 p.m.Dr. Vidal, assistant professor in surgical and radiological sciences at UC Davis, will be speaking about the latest research into equine lameness,

and will focus on applicable knowledge.

Marty Adams, PhD, PASManaging Heat Stress in

the Endurance Horse4:00 p.m. - 5:30 p.m.

Dr. Adams, equine nutritionist and horse feed manager at Southern States, will cover a topic that will be of interest to every endurance rider

in just a few short months.

Saturday, March 8Jeanette (Jay) Mero, DVM

Selecting Your Next Endurance Horseand the Prepurchase Exam

9:00 a.m. - 10:30 a.m.Find out why you should always have a prepurchase exam done an any

horse before you buy it—Dr. Mero will also share tips on how to pick your next endurance mount from an equine veterinarian’s/rider’s viewpoint.

AERC Board of Directors General Session 11:00 a.m. • All are invited (free)

Kenneth L. Marcella, DVMOverlooked and Underdiagnosed: Injuries of the Groin and Chest in

the Performance Horse1:00 p.m. - 2:30 p.m.

Dr. Marcella will review the anatomy of the horse’s groin and chest and how these structures tend to be injured. You will learn simple

manipulations you can use to evaluate your own horse the next time you suspect this type of injury.

Langdon Fielding, DVM, Diplomate ACVECC2014: What’s the Latest in

Endurance-Related Research?2:45 p.m. - 4:15 p.m.

Dr. Fielding, an equine critical care specialist, combs the research journals and speaks with other veterinarians, and will bring you up to date with the newest research you can add to your knowledge bank. It’s research distilled

for you (without having to slog through all those veterinary journals).

For seminar pricing, see the registration form.

Trade Show • Friday 8:00 a.m.-6:00 p.m. and Saturday 8:00 a.m.-5:00 p.m. – Free!Vendors will showcase their wares and endurance riders will have a ball at the trade show

Tack Swap • Friday and Saturday during trade show hours – Free!Bring your gently used tack and other endurance-y items to sell – and find just what you need at bargain prices. 10% goes to AERC.

Reception, Sponsored by AgSouth • Friday 4:30 p.m., Trade Show Area – Free!

Regional Awards Ceremony • Friday 6:00 p.m.-8:00 p.m. – Free!Come cheer on regional award winners from across the U.S. and Canada – a lively, fun ceremony in the late afternoon

Friday Night Dance/Concert • Friday 8:00 p.m.-Midnight – $10The Southern Rock band Men of Soul will perform and you will be on your feet showing of your dance moves!

National Awards Banquet • Saturday 6:30 p.m. – $40Always-emotional, a great time to celebrate endurance and its top riders and horses. (Plus: great food!)

Hot Topics • Early Friday & Saturday mornings, 7:30 a.m.-8:30 a.m. – Free!Join in the conversation with moderator John Parke. On Friday the topic is the relationship between AERC and the international rider; on

Saturday, the discussion is on “How we roll in the Southeast” – and all you can learn from their time-honored ways

Board Meetings • Thursday 6:00 p.m., Saturday 11:00 a.m., and Sunday 7:00 a.m. – Free!Watch the board in action on Thursday and Sunday; you’re welcome to comment to the board at Saturday’s General Session


2014 AERC Convention March 7 & 8, 2014 • Sheraton Gateway Hotel Atlanta Airport • Georgia

Three ways to register: Mail: AERC, P.O. Box 6027 Fax: 530-823-7805 Phone: 866-271-AERC Auburn, CA 95604 Visa or Mastercard Visa or Mastercard

Early registration guarantees seating at Speaker Seminars and ticket availability for the National Awards Banquet. In order for your registration to be processed prior to the convention, this form must be received by AERC on or before February 21, 2014. All registrations received after that date will be processed at the on-site rate. Cancellations received after February 21, 2014, will be assessed $10. Absolutely no refunds for no-shows!

On-site registration/packet pick-up: Thursday evening 4:00-7:00 p.m. and Friday and Saturday from 7:00 a.m. at the AERC Registration Desk.

1. Registration Information

Name__________________________________________ AERC #_____________ Region______ Phone__________________




2. Registration Fees

Speaker Seminars - FRIDAY Quantity Fee Amount

Single ( ) $45 ($55 for on-site registration) $____________

Additional Family Members ( ) $25 each ($35 for on-site registration) $____________

Speaker Seminars - SATURDAY

Single ( ) $45 ($55 for on-site registration) $____________

Additional Family Members ( ) $25 each ($35 for on-site registration) $____________

Other Activities

National Awards Banquet ( ) $40 per person ($20 children under 12)............... $____________

AERC Raffle Tickets ( ) $1 each ............................................................................. $____________

Friday Night Dance ( ) $10 per person .............................................................. $____________

Other: _________________________________________________________________________________ $____________

Note: Veterinary CE registration information will be mailed to all AERC veterinarians. TOTAL ENCLOSED $____________

3. Method of Payment

❑ Check (check # _____________) ❑ VISA ❑ Mastercard

Credit Card Number________________________________________________________________ Exp. Date______________

Signature (as it appears on your credit card) ___________________________________________________________________

Mail to the AERC office (P.O. Box 6027, Auburn, CA 95604) or fax (530-823-7805) or simply phone 866-271-2372!

HORSES

FIRSTHORSES

FIRSTHORSES

FIRSTAERCConvention

2014


2014 AERC Convention

HotelInformation

Sheraton Gateway Hotel Atlanta AirportRooms

$99 per night + 15% tax for 1-2 people, 1 King or 2 DoubleAdditional person beyond two per room: $20 per night • Rollaways: $20

Reserve by 2/3/14; 7 day cancellation notice required.

One night deposit plus tax charged at the time of reservation.

Parking: $12/day

Free shuttle every 20 minutes from nearby Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport

395 Guest Rooms • Full-Service Business Center • 100% Non-Smoking Hotel

Complimentary Wireless High Speed Internet in Lobby

Cafe • Restaurant • Fitness Facility • Heated Indoor and Outdoor Pools

Make your reservations early –AERC special rates not guaranteed after Monday, February 3, 2014

Reservation Line:800-325-3535

Please request the group rate for AERC

To make reservations online:https://www.starwoodmeeting.com/Book/aercannualconvention

Sheraton Gateway Hotel Atlanta Airport1900 Sullivan Road • Atlanta,Georgia 30337


15% NEW MEMBER DISCOUNT: Courtesy of EasyCare Inc. (for first-time members and those who last joined prior to 2009 season)

DATE o RENEW MY MEMBERSHIP o EN SUBSCRIPTION ONLY ARE YOU A VETERINARIAN?

o Yes o No PRIMARY MEMBER: NAME AERC # BIRTHDATE WEIGHT DIV.*/JR.**o Full

o Vet/Control Judge only

ADDRESS REGION

CITY STATE ZIP COUNTRY (if other than U.S.)

HOME PHONE WORK/MOBILE PHONE E-MAIL ADDRESS

FAMILY MEMBER: NAME o Full Member

AERC # BIRTHDATE WEIGHT DIV.*/JR.**Primary member’s:

o Husband o Wife o Non-riding

o Child o Other Member









LIFETIME EQUINE REGISTRATION – First equine registration is free to each member; for any additional equines registered: $15 each. Fill in only if you are registering a new equine with AERC. If the equine(s) being registered has completed any AERC-sanctioned rides, please include a list with ride name/distance/rider/date/placing on a separate piece of paper so the equine will be properly credited for mileage. (List additional equines on back of this form.) Phone the office if you are transferring equine ownership from another AERC member—there is no charge for transfers.

EQUINE’S NAME EQUINE’S NICKNAME FOAL DATE

GENDER COLOR BREED BREED REGISTRY REG. I.D. #

/ /

/ /

/ /

/ /

/ /

o I’M A NEW MEMBER ($63.75 with EasyCare Inc. discount)

E-MAIL:

E-MAIL:

E-MAIL:

2014_Mbr 1.2 1/14

/ /

PAYMENT

p Check

p Money Order

p Credit Card: Visa or M/C only:

_______________________________

Exp. Date ________

By submitting this application you agree all information provided regarding you and/or your family member(s) is correct and you agree to abide by all AERC rules.

Vet & Youth only memberships)(Subscription included with Full,

Return to: AERCP.O. Box 6027 • Auburn, CA 95604

Fax 530-823-7805

Renewal New2014 Membership $75 $63.75 $___________

Addl. Full Adult Family Member(s) ___@ $50 ___@ $42.50 $___________ Any family member age 18 or older on 12/1/13

Addl. Youth Family Member(s) ___@ $20) ___@ $17.00 $___________ Any family member age 17 or younger on 12/1/13

Addl. Non-Riding Family Member(s) ___@ $20) ___@ $17.00 $___________ Day member fees apply if member enters an AERC ride

Youth Only Member (under 17 years old as of 12/1/13; includes EN subscription) .... $40 $___________

Vet/Control Judge Only Member (includes EN subscription).................... $40 $___________

International Address ................. Canada: $20; Other countries: $40 $___________

AERC-International Member(s) .......................................... (___ @ $10) $___________

Zone: p Northeast p Southeast p Central p Mtn p Pac North p Pac South

Equine Registration (after 1st horse) .........................................( ___ @ $15) $___________

12 Issue EN Subscription only ....................................................... $40 $___________

Donation: p Education p Research p Trails p International

p Junior Scholarship Fund p Other: ___________________ $___________

Gold Membership: Includes $1 million personal excess liability coverage provided by Equisure, Inc. Add $20 for primary member; add $40 to insure all AERC family members. U.S. residents only. ........................................... Primary: $20; Family: $40 $___________

Total (U.S. funds only) $___________

*WEIGHT DIVISION(COMPUTED WITH TACK)

Featherweight .........160 lbs. & under

Lightweight ..................161-185 lbs.

Middleweight ...............186-210 lbs.

Heavyweight ........... 211 lbs. & over

**JUNIOR FOR 2014 SEASON:

Under 16 years old on 12/1/13

2014 AERC Ride Year: Dec. 1, 2013 – Nov. 30, 2014 • Questions? Call AERC at 866-271-2372 or email [email protected]

2014 AERC Membership Registration

Documents

Vol. 5, No. 1 AERC Extra · AERC Extra – Online Newsletter Page 1 Winter 2013/2014 (Welcome to the Winter 2013/14 edition of AERC Extra, AERC’s online newsletter. Bonus: Clicking