The Bottom of the Top
The Pan American Endurance Championship
The Bottom of the Top
The Pan American Endurance Championship
On the first day of our journey, our truck pulled the
13,000+ pound, 36-foot horse trailer for 380 miles of our 1100-mile journey
before deciding it wanted nothing to do with trip. We were planning on
driving from our home in Shadow Hills and stopping in
It turns out that a head bolt sheared off inside the engine
and allowed all the engine coolant to leak out. Anybody ever hear of THAT happening
before? Picture this, late Saturday afternoon we’re in the Dodge dealer
showroom with both our cell phones going, frantically trying to find some way
to get the family up to
The Pan American Games are a continental version of the
Olympic Games which include the Olympic Program sports and others that are not
part of the Olympics. They are meant to bring together athletes from the
countries of the
Here is the simplified version of how it works for the USA;
first you must become qualified by completing a certain number of 100-mile
races and show that you can compete at a certain speed. Once you have earned a
“Certificate of Capability” you can be nominated for a place on the squad of
your region (5 regions in the US). Twelve horse and rider combinations are
accepted to each squad (along with a number of alternates) and they all travel
to the race site. The day before the race, the Chef d’Equipes (the team Bosses)
selects 4 horses to represent the squad as the “scoring” team. The 3 top scores
of that four-person team are then used to compute the team’s placement for the
gold, silver or bronze team medals. So, after a grueling year of qualifying,
nominating and being accepted onto the Squad representing the Pacific South
Region of the United States, we were on our way to the race.
So far,
things were not looking too good.
Becky Glaser, the Co-Chef d’Equipe, was an hour outside
Davis on her way to Oregon when she received my frantic call. She turned back,
located us at the McDonald’s next to the dealer and worked miracles. She found
a neighbor of a friend who would be willing to loan us a truck to pull our
mammoth trailer. Later that night I met Ray Bailey and Vicki Giles at their
house in Lincoln, an hour from Davis. Vicki was an alternate for the Pacific
North team and Ray said to me, “I would not loan this truck to my brother.
HOWEVER, I know how important this race is up here, so I understand what you
are going through. Here are the keys. Just let me finish changing the oil and
wash it for you.” Unbelievably, he took the time out of loading their trailer
to CHANGE THE OIL. Thanks, Ray!
OK,
things are starting to look better.
The next
couple legs of the trip were rather uneventful. Except that without a crew cab,
the kids were squashed up in the front with me: “Watch your leg Luke, I need to
shift into 4th gear!” We stopped in Azalea, Oregon for the night on
Sunday and met up with 2 other members of the team. We stayed on a 300-acre
ranch with an ex-Californian endurance racer, Marty Ginsburg. She took really
good care of us and helped smooth my frayed and rumpled nerves. (By the way,
don’t try to pump your own gas in Oregon.
It is against the law and I almost got a fine when I tried to fill my
tanks!) Morgan fell in love with one of Marty’s dogs and was really upset about
leaving him because, “he loves me so much and will miss me!!!”
On Monday, we drove our three rigs in caravan up to
Basecamp. Melody got out of the trailer and rode up front with Jeff Townsend in
his rig. When we got there, we set up in
the . . .
RAIN!
It proceeded to rain/mist/fog/piss through Thursday. During
that time, I was involved in numerous meetings, taking care of various
race-related issues, getting my horse out for exercise and practicing showing
him for the Vet Checks. Melody and the kids stayed mostly in the 12-foot living
quarters of the horse trailer getting “trailer fever” for 3.5 days. Actually,
the kids probably enjoyed the attention, reading, playing games and watching
videos all day, but I think Melody was ready to explode. Even when she did get
a minute to herself, there was not much to do in the rain and mud.
Finally, Thursday came and my crew arrived: Tara (my groom)
Craig and Danielle. The sun finally came out just before the opening ceremonies
began. Tara and I put on our parade clothes and marched with the horses past
bleachers filled with people cheering as the Olympic theme played over
loudspeakers. Melody ran ahead with the kids in our large, red, off-road,
double jog-stroller to take pictures and videos. It was a pretty powerful and
emotional moment made even more so as the horns hit a crescendo as we passed
the loud speaker. Kitt tried to jump into my boots!
On Friday, the race preparations began in earnest.
Endurance riding involves a horse and rider team competing on a set course of
up to 100 miles as quickly as possible. Riders aim to finish the course with a
“sound” horse. There are multiple veterinarian checks along the course,
including one before the ride, at which the horses receive a full soundness
exam to ensure that they are fit to start. The Vets also check metabolic signs
like pulse, respiration, hydration and “gut sounds”. There were five such
checks at this race. The horses that pass the pre-ride check are then cleared
to ride Saturday. There are inevitably some horses that will not pass. I got
one of the best vets in the country, who is also the president of the AERC
(American Endurance Ride Conference - the national governing body for long
distance riding). He said that Kitt looked the best of the last 15 horses he
had seen - good kudos. Next, the riders and tack had to be weighed. The minimum
weight requirement is 165 lbs. This is good for me, because I am well over that
without my saddle (or clothes, for that matter!) I weighed in at 216 lbs which
makes me about 50 lbs heavier than many. At least I don’t have to ride with
extra lead in my saddle - I have it in my lead-bottom.
After the
pre-ride vet check, the Chef d’Equipe asked me to come with her to Command
Central (an old, large motorhome). I felt like I was being called into the
principal’s office for a scolding. I knew this was irrational, but had to
resist the urge to bolt. Inside, the other Co and Assistant -Chef d’Equipes
were waiting and looking solemn. “Hi. How are you? Please sit down” niceties
followed. Hmm, what did I do, whom did I upset this time? “We are considering
you for the team,” Becky began, “we feel that you could be the bedrock upon
which our team will be based. However, we have had some concerns and complaints
about the big red stroller. It’s scaring some of the horses.”
At this point I am reeling - I did not register much after
“considering you for the team.” When I began to feel the ‘80s upholstery again,
I stifled a laugh and told them that it would not be a problem; we’ll keep the
red monster away from our horses (but started thinking, maybe we should run
through some of the other camps with it?) I left knowing that of our squad’s
dozen extremely talented, experienced and athletically fit horses they had
chosen Kitt for a place on the 4-person team. An unbelievable honor, Kitt has
really made it into the big time. At the meeting, they announced who was on the
team and there were some disappointed people. I felt badly for them, for they
all have such wonderful horses (but not too badly). After talking/planning with
my crew, I retired to the trailer for the requisite night hours of not sleeping
and awaited morning.
The trial begins in the Gifford Pinchot National Forest and
traverses the base of Mt. Adams, often opening up to stunning views of the
mountain, Trout Lake Valley and Glenwood Valley. There are a number of places
where you can see both Mt. Adams and Mt. Hood. (I tried to picture my dad doing
a handstand on the top of Mt Hood, and almost ran into a tree - but that’s a
story for another time.) Mostly, the trail winds through the ponderosa pine
forest with excellent footing with the abundant smells and sounds of the
forest. At 6 AM Saturday morning, it was still dark and of the ~100 horses that
were in Trout Lake to compete, 89 were starting. Even at this early hour, there
was quite a crowd cheering on their favorite country, team and riders. The
excitement was palpable in the air and the horses could definitely sense it.
They stamped, pranced, spun and snorted. The countdown came and off we went in
a cloud of dust and a thunderous cheer that sounded like a thousand voices (but
was probably less than 100). The first loop was 20 miles and wound in and out
of the woods. We passed by the “Big Tree” (one the largest known Ponderosa
Pines), but we zoomed by it now because we had stopped to see it earlier in the
week. It SURE IS a really big tree. The first Vet check was back in Basecamp
and was already a madhouse when we arrived. It was actually pretty sane, but I
was high on adrenaline and worried about passing the stringent examination that
is done at this international level. My crew met me and took care of Kitt,
while I got my bearings. (The stroller was well off to the side, away from the
horses. Good work Mel.) When you come into a Vet check, you are not allowed to
approach the Vet until your horse’s pulse has come down to a certain level. If
the horse is not at criteria (64 beats per minute) you are penalized 30
minutes. Kitt was down immediately below 60 BPM and our team Vet OK’d him to go
into the check. He passed all the checks with no problem - time to move on. I
learned at that Vet check, not to worry so much - this was not that different
from the races I had done in the past.
As we are
getting ready to leave, my crew is there to help. Craig pours some water on
Kitt’s neck and the one of the Ground Jury says that he is not allowed to crew
here. I apologized and said it would not happen again. Very stoically he
replied, “I know it won’t.” I know, I know, just doing his job, but . . . phew.
The second loop was also 20 miles, winding through the forest again. This loop
incorporates two of the biggest climbs in the ride. The climbs occur relatively
early in the loop with the rest of the loop descending (actually, up and down -
but mostly down) into the next Vet check. Kitt and I have a good working
relationship; he carries me up the hills and I get off and run down. I ran at
least half of this loop and was starting to feel it a bit when we reached
Pipeline, the second check. As I come out of the trees I see a very small,
crowded, gravel filled parking lot with ~40 horses in various stages of
resting, eating and vetting. Kitt’s pulse is down, he munches a bit and off we
go to the vet. As we round a stand of trees and head into the vetting area with
the Chef d’Equipe (one official from your team must always accompany you to the
vet as you are not allowed to speak to the Vet), I am cheered to see Mel with
the Red Monster coming towards us. Unfortunately, in the official’s opinion,
she is too close and gets shooed away. Kitt passes the checks easily, although
he is shivering a little in the cool shade. We get him back to our team’s area,
warm him up and let him eat. We had ridden much of these 40 miles with Tammy
Robinson and her horse Sharkee, who was also selected for the team. At this
point Sharkee is not acting normal and Tammy is concerned. Our time to go has
arrived: a good-bye to Mel, my crew and the Red Monster with Morgan and Luke
and are off.
The third loop is 21 miles long and we navigate it pretty
easily. However, we are riding alone and I sense that Kitt is getting tired. So
far, he has traveled 61 miles, mostly with me on his back. I have probably run
about 15 miles. Again, at the Vet check, my crew is there to meet me with horse
blankets and water. Here, I find out that all
3 of the 
other
members of my team have been pulled; Sharkee did not make it out of the last
Vet check and the other 2 were pulled here. To be in the running for a team
medal, you need to have at least 3 horses finish, so this effectively
eliminated us from that. It also eliminated a certain amount of pressure on me.
Next, I hear that over 20 horses have been pulled at this Vet check. Time to
worry again. We’ve moved from around 70th place to somewhere in the
50’s. Kitt’s heart rate is down and off we go to the vet. He does seem to be
tiring and the Vet says that his gut sounds are low. He wants me to bring him
back just before we leave to have another look at him. I’m not terribly
concerned (yeah, right) because he is eating and drinking very well. At the
re-check, they say he sounds much better and states that we can go on.
As I head out on the next 15-mile loop, we pass some riders
coming into the Vet check. I ask how the trail is and most say that it is
mostly hills. Great. It turns out not to be too bad, but we are riding
alone and we’re both lacking motivation. On our way down, we catch up to a
rider from New Zealand, Madonna Harris. I get off and jog half of this loop on
the way back down the hill and chat with Madonna. We stopped about a mile from
the vet check to let the horses graze and get their guts moving before heading
into the check. By the time we get there, she and I are friends and so are our
horses. We agree to wait for each other so that we can leave together.
Everything goes fine at this vet check and I feel as if we worried for no reason
about how tough the vets were going to be. I again learn that many more horses
were pulled at this check also - so I made mental note: continue to worry. As
Kitt and I were resting and eating, I told Melody about Madonna from New
Zealand. She looked at me strangely and said, “Ask her if she used to bike
race.” (Melody raced internationally for about 8 years). Turns out that they
did race together 15 years ago and both remembered each other - big hugs all
around. Just another example of how the world getting smaller as our
experiences get larger.
We left together as the sunlight was waning, about 7:30. We
had 11 miles to go to get back to Basecamp, where the last vet check was before
the final 13-mile loop. Madonna had this humongous headlamp on her helmet and
it lit up the entire area. I have never ridden with a lamp before and was
skeptical of its use here. However, because of the trees, roots and technical
winding of the trail, I grew to like it and relied on it. It took us over 2
hours to do this loop because we were being very careful in the dark. At this
point, with no team pressure, I just wanted to finish with a healthy horse. At
the vet check, our team crewing area was empty, a third of our squad was ahead
of us, a third behind and a third had been pulled. Because of this, we were
able to get a lot of attention and had room to relax. No problems here, we slid
through the check without hesitation. Our team vet said that he looked slightly
off and that we should be careful. By now, it was very dark out and when we got
back into the forest the star and moonlight were completely absorbed by the
trees.
Madonna
is already out on the trail when we left, but with a small headlamp hastily
taped to my helmet, I’m ready for battle. However, my little double-A battery
light is nothing compared to the spotlight she had, so I’m glad when I finally
catch her. Although this loop is 2 miles longer, it takes us about the same
time as the previous loop. I’m glad to have someone to ride with, but might
have been able to go faster on our own. I decided to not worry about time at
this point. Again, just finish with a healthy horse. The trail is well marked
with glow sticks, although we did get lost in a couple of places. Somewhere in
here, we picked up a rider from Denmark whose horse was happy to have the
company. The volunteers helping at the outer pit stops were glad to see us,
because it meant they could go home soon. They did not know that the last
riders would pass them an hour and a half after us. All of our horses were
happy to stop, eat and drink. We had ridden this last section before and knew
that 2 miles from the finish there is a 500-foot hill climb, which seemed like
a 30-degree grade and covered in loose dirt. I’m off again, trudging on foot up
this hill, chanting the mantra, “almost done” puff-puff “almost done”
puff-puff. When we finally clear the hill and see the glow of Basecamp through
the trees, this feeling of euphoria begins to grow within me. I mount up (you
have to cross the finish line in the saddle) and trot up to the finish line.
There is cheering and hollering again sounding like 100,000 voices, although
now there is only about 20. Melody and my crew are waiting for us. All that is
left is the final vet check. My crew gets the saddle and tack off Kitt and put
him in the warmest blanket we have. He dives into his food as if he has just
run 100 miles and he has. I hate to tear
him away, but it’s time to vet in. His heart rate is down to 56 BPM, all metabolic
indicators are good and he is sound. We successfully competed at the Pan
American Endurance Championships! We were not front-runners, nor were we in
the running for a team medal. But the feeling of great accomplishment was in no
way diminished; someone has to be the bottom of the top. We came in 44th
of the 89 that started. Only 50 horses completed the race.
At this
race, we had to bring Kitt back for a health check after 2 hours. This meant
that I went to sleep around 3 AM. I guess I’m getting old, but that felt really
late to me. After sleeping slightly, we woke to another sunny day and went to
watch the Best Condition Judging of the top ten finishers at 9 AM. Some looked
better than others, but all looked ridden. I was pleased to see that none
looked better than Kitt (rightly so, they finished more than 5 hours before
us!). The closing ceremonies were in the early afternoon, so we came back and
got gussied-up again. The entire squad assembled behind our camp. As we
approached the stands, the horns of the Olympic theme again blared from the
speakers. I could not keep the tears from flowing. In them was reflected what
we had all been through: my horse, my family, my crew and me. It had truly been
an epic journey that had stretched the fiber of all of my relationships. As my
groom Tara and horse paraded next to me, with Melody, the kids, Craig and Dani
watching, I hoped that the rigors of this journey had not stretched these
relationships too far and believed them to be strongly elastic and would not
break.
Two weeks after we arrived home, Melody said that we had received a card from
Ray and Vicki. You see, while mulling through the rain and boredom in
Washington, Mel had arranged to have our truck repaired. Back in Davis after
the race, we paid a small fortune to retrieve our truck on Tuesday morning. We
then headed up to Lincoln to return Ray’s truck. On the way, we stopped and
bought them some cookies and a card. Into the card, we slid a $100 bill - our
thinking was that it would be a good way to say thank you and help defray the
cost of the wear and tear that a 1500-mile trip like this could do to a truck.
The card from Ray and Vicki two weeks later had a note that said, “Thank you
for the cookies and NO thank you for the money. That is not what we intended
when we loaned the truck.” In the card with the note was the $100 bill. Our
journey has now truly ended; the trailer is parked in the driveway and
unloaded, Kitt is in his arena and still looking good and we have some
wonderful new friends and incredible experiences that will last a lifetime.