The Horse's Maine, Maine's Own Equine Newspaper

A View from the Other Side
by Bill Rice
(©The Horse's Maine, May 2008)

The “Counting Crows” rock group had a song titled the “Rain King” and for many years I had the sneaking suspicion they were singing about me. I no longer have a suspicion, I am convinced that I have become the Rain King. Along with my minion, Irving, we have become persona non grata in most of the southeast. Now one should consider that the southeast has been suffering from a long drought and that rain would be welcome. However, if one were to consider that, then one would definitely be wrong! Turns out they want rain, but not the amount we seem to be delivering, nor at the times we deliver it!
We had survived the “Das Boot” episode and the weather turned sunny and nice but our next ride was a mere two weeks later and we dreaded the long range forecast of heavy rain and wind… surely the horse Gods would spare us? Everyone we met asked if we would be at the FITS (Fun in the Sun) ride and when we responded in the affirmative, they told us it better not rain! I was starting to get an inferiority complex. I mean, was it really my fault that every ride Irving and I attended ended up being under water? Evidently the body of public opinion believed we were the guilty parties. Tar and feathers, along with hanging ropes, began to be mentioned by various and sundry persons.
The ride week arrived and our horses were well rested and ready to ride. I must have done a rain dance or something as the heavens darkened, the skies opened up and the rains fell. And fell, and fell, and fell some more. It appeared that an ark might be necessary! I decided to leave my horse at a nearby barn and walked him in the pouring rain to the vet in. The vets all thought some loose horses were coming down the road as all they could see in the rain was the two horses I was leading. Naturally we had to lead the horses under a big tent and to my surprise neither horse cared… they were tired of the rain too!
It continued to rain all night before the ride and then it stopped raining. Yay! Well, maybe not yay. Once the rain stopped, the wind started. Slowly and calmly at first, and then almost hurricane strength. It was howling and had no intention of slowing down! Trees were being uprooted, branches were flying through the sky and sand was being whipped around. Naturally we had to mount up and ride in that. A more rational person may have realized that perhaps this was not a good idea but we stooges evidently are not rational. Out of the starting gate we went and watched blankets, buckets, sponges and all the various paraphernalia of ride camp swirl around us. Needless to say, Arabian horses are not amused by such goings on.
Into the forest we went, only to be confronted by trees uprooted, Spanish moss laying everywhere, and the roaring and moving of palmetto bushes. I figured maybe the boys would calm down after a few miles. I was wrong, but at least the first loop was dry and things seemed to be going well. As we neared the end of the loop the horse gods got bored and decided action was necessary. Now, photographers are a part of what we do. After all, everyone loves a nice picture of himself upon his favorite steed flowing magnificently down the trail. Even most of the horses seem to pose for the picture. My new Das Boot horse had handled the wind like a pro, no spooks, nothing. just a steady trot, and so as we approached the photographer I figured he would continue to be good. He had both eyes locked on the camera and was moving nicely, he even heard the clicks from the camera and behaved, and the photographer continued to crouch and shoot.
Then as we turned the corner in front of the camera, the photographer stood up and said in a loud voice, “Are you the last two horses?” Weeeelllll, let me tell you Das Boot is also Das Helicopter, and the photographer was filming it all! So add another fun tidbit…watch out for moving paparazzi!
After the hold we headed back out. Instead of the winds abating, they were increasing in strength. You could hardly keep your eyes open into the wind and yet, our horses trotted right along. Then it happened. The Rain King curse reared its ugly head. We found water, then more water, and then a lot more water! My poor Das Boot kept looking at it and waiting to be swallowed, but to his credit he walked and slogged through it, mile after mile. When we managed to reach dry ground, I thought he was going to kneel down and kiss it. I know I could have!
The rest of the ride went fairly well and we finished in grand style. We even got ice cream at the finish. How good is that?
Like all good things, our time in Florida was done and so we packed the trailers and two of us Stooges headed north to South Carolina. Time for one more ride in the sun and warmth before heading home to the snow. Today is beautiful and it is hard to believe that yet another big storm is headed our way. I hope to come home tanned, not tarred and feathered.
South Carolina at last, the trees were in full bloom, the grass was green and rich and our ride camp location was wonderful. The Sand Hills Stampede is run in the very sandy northeast corner of the State in a lovely forest. The facilities are wonderful and Irving and I managed to obtain sites with power, water and nice corrals for our horses, not to mention they were right on the trail and therefore easy to crew from.
The next day we tacked up and did a trial run through the forest and were happy to find the sand was not too deep and the trails were in good condition. We returned to camp and found many of our southern friends arriving and getting settled. The camaraderie between all the riders and their horses is quite nice and everyone has a good time in the days before a ride. We tend to get together to make dinners and just enjoy being with our horses. The weather was cooperating nicely and the temperatures were mild and the sun shone brightly. My horse seemed very content and was definitely ready to go.
On Friday we did our vet in and all the horses were judged ready to compete. At the ride meeting we heard about the trails, the sand and the forecast for severe storms on Saturday afternoon. The good news was that the storms were forecast for late in the day so we opted to ride on Saturday and hoped for the best. Up early and tacked up, Irving and I rode to the ride start and I was a little unsure about how my horse would handle 66 other horses racing off but he did really well. Soon we were on the trail and the horses began to settle and got down to business. The miles were rolling along and the sand, while deep in places, was not bad overall.
We saw plenty of pine trees, some low scrub bushes and the horses were happy, no scary palmettos, no deep water, no flying objects, just nice miles of trails. Soon we neared the ride camp and saw a sign saying photographer ahead. Great, I thought, 15 miles of peace and quiet and now a photographer, but this time she knew who we were and did her best not to spook my poor boy. He actually posed nicely for his photo and trotted on down the trail. We quickly vetted through and got ready for the next loop. This was to be a shorter loop and we hoped to finish before the rain fell. During our first loop the skies had darkened and thunder could be heard rumbling overhead.
The loop seemed to last forever… the sand was deep and slowed our progress but we rode on. For some reason, the horse gods took pity on us and held off on the rain. We finished the loop and got our completions… we had done it. Five rides in six weeks, none of them fast, none of them long, but all of them great training. Our horses looked wonderful; they were fit, had shed their long hair and were eager to go down the trail. As we headed for our trailers the thunder returned along with lightning and a tornado warning. Time to batten down the hatches. Lucky for us we were done, but there were other riders on the trail and they got hammered. The wind howled, lightning flashed, thunder boomed and the rain was going sideways. It was scary watching it unfold outside, not to mention how bad it must have been to ride in it. Thankfully everyone survived and no one got hurt.
This ride marked the end of my southern adventure; it was time for the Stooges to go their separate ways. Irving (the smart one) remains in the south, whereas I was heading home to the snow, the cold and the mud. The drive was a long one and the farther north we got, the colder it got and the browner the countryside seemed. I was a little sad to say goodbye to the warmth of the south but eager to get home, too. We arrived home at dusk and my poor horse took one look at the snow and groaned but being the good trooper he is, he trotted out into the pasture and rolled. I guess snow is fun to roll in.
A few days have now passed and I have managed to readapt to the snow and cold. I also managed to move a few tons of snow so I could park the trailer, and even managed to clean the trailer out. My horse is happy in his blanket but a little confused as to why we are not riding daily and yet, he too seems glad to be home.
The southern adventure has ended, another year has come and gone, the price of fuel has hit new levels but there are other adventures waiting out there and more miles to ride. Soon spring will be here in Maine and we will once again be enjoying the warmth and sunshine I left behind. So groom your horses, get your tack ready and go ride. The trails will be all new once again and the sights nice to behold. See you out there.