In 2010 my stallion, Siri Mahali was born. At barely a month old, Sizzy suffered an injury which left him incapable of being anything but a paddock ornament and breeding horse. He was my very first foal, I was there from his first day and I’d fantasized of the day I’d break and train him myself for endurance – so to say I was devastated would be an extreme understatement. When I came to grips with the loss of my dreams, I settled for one day riding his foals. It would be a distant future, with little choice but to wait – then, a year after his accident Sizzy’s half brother, Amir Halo (Mizzy as we call him) was born to one of my favourite mares, owned by some dear friends of mine. I was there the day he was born, but I had no idea what the future would hold.
Jump forward four years and Mizzy has been mine a year. My friends decided they couldn’t manage the stifle lock that he had developed as a youngster and gave him to me – with that my dreams came rushing back! Starting my own baby horse, taking him through his first ride, getting him through his first 40’s and 80’s, dreaming of the day he’d be old enough to do a Quilty.
When I first got him, he’d spent a few weeks with a breaker who had an untimely accident with a different horse and cut short the training he’d started. In the end it was just as well since I felt Mizzy was still a big baby at only three years old. So I didn’t continue his education and opted for turning him out with his brother and my other young ones to grow. It ended up being a good thing because he grew another three inches and became a bit broader. He was just as sweet as his brother, they look very alike except for their different shades – one fiery chestnut, the other glistening gold.
Maloo Vale Siri Mahali and Maloo Vale Amir Halo
It was July of 2015 and Mizzy was about to turn four, so it was time to see if he remembered any of the things Malcolm had taught him. Having had so much trouble with Koda’s teeth with her bit as she aged from 3 to 5 I decided to avoid the issue altogether and started Mizzy in a rope halter. Malcolm had said Mizzy was one of the smartest horses he’d worked with, he was clever but cheeky too – time would tell if it would all come together.
So it began, day after day of pressure and release, pressure and release; left and right, left and right; back and step forward, back and step forward. He remembered it all – Malcolm was right.
First time aboard!
Within a week I was riding the little scamp around the regular training tracks, bareback at first and then we graduated to a saddle. The stifle lock would disappear once we were on the move – after consulting my vet he suggested that warming up before vetting in at a ride would be beneficial and there was no reason Mizzy wouldn’t make a strong riding horse. So, I was riding my golden pony, my dreams were coming to life! Where would we go first? Well, there was a ride at Widgee in three weeks – why not start there!
So we decided to load up the float and take Mizzy, Milton and Sally to Widgee for a slow and steady 20km. After Sally’s unfortunate vet out at Rockybar I thought it would be a good idea to try her at a shorter distance and it was only a fortnight since Biggenden so a quiet short ride was just what we were looking for! Along for the ride was my little sister for her very first endurance ride.
It was a long one, Mizzy was barefoot and bitless but he took it all in his stride and we babied him around the 20km track. He’d been under saddle for three weeks and his first entry in his logbook was a completion – what more could I ask for? Well, a completion for Sally was icing on the cake. My sister was over the moon and wanting more. There was more than one funny moment – the best being captured by Kevin Coppalotti at the creek crossing! I remember Milton balking slightly and then slowly wading in and across, I followed in closely behind with Mizzy who just glided through gently. We were almost the whole way through when I heard a shriek and then I was covered in water as Sally, in a panic thinking she was being left behind, leapt into the water and caught my sister off guard. The photos were priceless and I couldn’t ask for a funnier memory!
Splash! Photo by Kevin Coppalotti
It was the start of a long journey with the golden child, it is still going even now and I hope one day that those dreams I dreamed will be real. Even if I’m not the one in his saddle, I will be so proud to have played a part in making it happen.
Mizzy all calm at the creek! Photo by Kevin CoppalottiChintzia and Sally on trackAnother one of my artsy fartsy horse-scapesMilton and Adriana – Photo by Kevin Coppalotti
“Sam, is that a guy or a girl?” Well, he’s a tall and handsome New Zealander, with short spiky hair, usually it is fully shaved off! He’s started to grow it out now, but I like it that way – it makes his face look a little less… long?
Blackbutt. We were back again, this time it was Adriana and I going out on the 80km together, Jasmine being swamped with school work hadn’t been able to make it so we were going to head out in the dark just the two of us.
It was a ride full of firsts and lasts. My last ride as a novice (hopefully!), Milton and Adriana would both attempt their first 80km, Koda was on her second 40km with her young rider, chaperoned by an experienced team, and we had a new addition – Sam.
Now, you’re reading this saying “Sam, is that a guy or a girl?” Well, he’s a tall and handsome New Zealander, with short spiky hair, usually it is fully shaved off! He’s started to grow it out now, but I like it that way – it makes his face look a little less… long?
Sam sampling some sugar cane out on a ride with Spencer
Yes, Sam is a horse – Willowvale Sirahh or Rahh as we sometimes call him. His name changes depending on whether he has ripped another rug, lost another hood or pulled another freshly nailed shoe recently. He’s got quite the talent with each let me tell you! He was a seasoned campaigner who’d had a few odd vet outs until abscesses showed their ugly faces and he was put out in the paddock to rest. Since she had young horses coming up, his owner had left him to relative retirement – then I put out word looking for a quiet ride for Adriana and Yvonne came to my rescue again.
If he was half as awesome as Haze, Sam would not disappoint. I was excited to meet him, but the week before I was due to pick him up disaster struck again – we had an accident in my new ute which saw it completely written off. In the short term, I had no way to get Sam home for Adriana to get to know him before the ride, when Milton’s wonderful owner stepped in and offered to take me out and get him. I couldn’t ask for better friends, I really couldn’t!
At first glance I thought Sam was a twin of Jasmine’s horse, Hala. He really is a cheeky devil, lures you in with his polite and perky manner, his gentlemanly attitude – and then uses you as a scratching post. It was the start of something very special, little did we know how special!
The Blackbutt ride loomed, we found a way to get the horses there, we were ready to ride. Adriana was nervous but we rode off into the afternoon excited in spite of the nerves! I’d last ridden the track solo for the better part of the ride, I’d looked at nothing because I’d been so keen to get through as quickly as I could so that Haze and I could be done and dusted before midnight – but this time was different. This time I had a novice horse to take care of, his first two leg ride which would surely prove a struggle for his mental state. This time I had Adriana to keep me company and we had absolutely no idea what to expect from Sam – slow and steady was the order of the day.
We plugged along at a steady pace. Halfway through our first leg we passed Koda and Erin trotting along behind their chaperones, Kellie and Noname. We waved and continued past – all seemed to be going well. We got the first leg finished in 3hrs 50mins – would we vet through? Why yes, yes we would! Sam was breezing through and Milton was happy to be finished – poor boy, he had no idea what was coming…
Koda came in and vetted while Adriana and I were having a break before the next leg. Spence and Erin’s dad left to strap the little horse and help her rider vet in while we quickly ate and started to saddle up for the second leg. Milton screwed up his nose when he saw the bridle again but he took it and we were off into the darkness. As we rode to the time gate we saw the crew walking back from vetting with Koda – thumbs up, all good! With that little boost in our minds we had a little extra spring in our step as we trotted off down the road.
Sam and Adriana – out on the first leg
It was slower going for the second leg, my poor Milt was struggling a little with the whole idea of going out again, while Sam was still as keen as a bean to get going – Yvonne had warned us that he was quite insensible of his limitations and would need to be told to take it easy, so we slowed right down until he was in a better headspace and began to move along next to Milton more steadily. As the inevitable fatigue started to kick in, we started telling jokes and singing at the top of our lungs in the darkness to keep our spirits up and the horses active. There was a group of riders behind us that we could hear but not see – they must have thought we were crazy!
We pulled in after finishing the second leg at about nine and a half kilometres per hour, quite a bit slower than the first leg but we made it – time to strap! We felt hot and we didn’t notice the chill in the air but luckily our strapper in chief did and threw rugs on our horses hind quarters while we took heart rates and gave them a light sponge down. We were ready to vet in!
Happy chappies the day after
I was pretty sure of Milton, he was tired but he still felt strong. It was Sam I was curious about, and as I watched him trot my worries blew away – Adriana was through her first 80km and she was over the moon!
We all headed off to bed as soon as we saw the horses rugged, fed and watered. The track had been undulating and rocky compared to what we were used to at home so we were feeling the energy drain! The next morning we collected our completion prizes, grabbed our customary hot chocolate and headed home – a 100% completion weekend at Blackbutt, what more could we ask for! Milton and Adriana were a ride into novice, Sam was off the 13 month rule and back on the right track – and I’d realised my three year goal. I finally made it to Open.
I remember a loud cracking sound, and I remember the feeling of my foot bending in a way it shouldn’t be expected to. I remember realising what was happening as I fell into the newly dug and uncovered fence post hole. The front half of my foot had almost made it over, another inch and I might not have even known the danger.
Earlier in the 2015 I had offered a young girl the opportunity to try endurance, riding my then 5 year old Arab Connemara mare, Ardair Skoda. The two of them got along very well and they came along so nicely in training that we planned for them to start in their first 40km at Rockybar, where I planned to do my next 80km with the new horse we had in training.
Haze went home on the 28th of March. I was heartbroken, but I knew that it was just too easy to keep riding the seasoned horse while the young ones stayed fat in the paddock so I had to remove the temptation. It isn’t like I would never see Haze again, he would be at Rockybar in preparation for the 50th Tom Quilty later in the year.
We had gotten into the year with one hell of a swing, things were going pretty damn well! I was two rides through novice, Jas had made it through her first 80km completion at Cooyar, Adriana had made a brave call on Sally at the ride and I couldn’t imagine a better outcome – the future was looking bright! Little did I know that things were going to come crashing down around my ears in a short space of time.
On the 29th of March, my friend brought me her big mare to bring back into work for her to ride. During the night I heard a bit of a commotion down at the paddock, so I grabbed my little torch, slipped into my flip flops and went for a walk down to check on the new mare. When I got to the lane I walked along with my torch up at eye level, searching the long grass for the three mares that were in the front paddock. I wasn’t worried, what ever the cafuffle was about had clearly passed but I did wonder where they had got to. I was blissfully unaware of what was about to happen.
I remember a loud cracking sound, and I remember the feeling of my foot bending in a way it shouldn’t be expected to. I remember realising what was happening as I fell into the newly dug and uncovered fence post hole. The front half of my foot had almost made it over, another inch and I might not have even known the danger.
I don’t remember screaming but apparently I did because Spencer found me very quickly and managed to get me to the hospital. There was several hours of waiting despite the fact that the waiting room was empty, only to find out that it would not be possible to get x-rays done until the following day (gee, they don’t have an x-ray operator around at 11.30pm and it took two hours to say so?) So after I was finally given a decent pain killer I was sent home with a note to return for an x-ray in the morning – I knew what came after that and it was not going to happen and that was flat.
Told you I wasn’t joking, mister plaster tech dude..!
I don’t like plaster casts. When I broke my shoulder in a riding accident as a 15 year old I developed a permanent aversion to them and consider them tools of torture. I would not wear a cast again. I even said I would cut it off as soon as I got home to the plaster technician as he wrapped my foot in a backslab. He must have thought I was joking because he laughed and said I wouldn’t as he merrily went about his business, telling me what an art plastering was. I have no doubt it is an art, I’m sure it is to those interested in such art – I am not one of those people however and it was off before the plaster was even cold, let alone dry!
I’m sure there are many people reading this and thinking I was crazy, so let me assure you. Being that I am an active person and an avid rider, my dear friends who are involved in the world of orthopedics, helped and guided me through the process as I could never have imagined. Thanks to their help and expertise, I was in fact back in the saddle for Rockybar, though not for the 80km as I’d hoped.
Adriana had managed to get Milton ready to do a 40km at the ride, Koda was ready to go with her young rider and as I had not been able to ride for weeks Adriana had organised for an acquaintance of hers to ride Sally along with them. Unfortunately, when we arrived we found out Sally’s rider was not coming.
It seemed a waste to have trained her up and traveled her to the ride only for her not to do it. So I decided I would do it myself! 40kms after not riding for six weeks? Piece of cake!
On track, Rockybar!
Thankfully, Sally is a very smooth ride, I could sit to her trot for most of the distance and her canter is wonderful too so the impact of my broken foot was minimal. Sally was also much more settled than she had been at Cooyar so we did manage to have a very good ride! At least, up until Koda and Sally decided to have a go at one another, that is… Their kicks met in mid air and I’m not even sure if Koda got much of it, at the time we didn’t think Sally had as she settled back down and charged on. But when we got to the last water trough roughly three kilometres from ride base, something didn’t feel right. We had stood still at the trough for just a few minutes but it was enough to bring out a stiffness and I felt Sally’s stride wasn’t quite right for a short stretch until she warmed back up.
We came back into base slowly and strapped. Sally’s heart rate dropped nicely but I could see now that she was cooled off that her usually high step was lagging and my heart sank as I knew she was lame. Here came my first vet out, but at least it wasn’t a surprise one.
The TPR took Sal’s heart rate at 44 and I watched as Koda and Milton were vetted in along side us, then walked slowly over to the waiting vet who smiled and asked how we had gone. I told her the truth, my little mare was lame. She smiled again and asked what had happened and why I thought Sal was lame as she went through her parameter checks and I told her about the on-track biff between my two crazy mares.
“Well, lets just give her a little trot out to be sure!” Ingrid said, so I jogged a few meters with my little perlino high stepping beside me until I decided we’d showed that clear-as-day head bob enough. I turned around and walked Sally back and Ingrid gave her a pat as we left the ring – vetting out doesn’t hurt as much when you know it’s coming, but it still isn’t a nice feeling. Thankfully Sal was as sound as a bell within the week.
Adriana and Erin, on track at Rockybar
On the up side, Koda and her rider, along with Milton and Adriana, all vetted through successfully and with good heart rates. Koda apparently was no worse for wear after the kick-fest. I shouldn’t be surprised I suppose. She’s one of “those” horses – you know, those ones that can walk through a tensioned 5 strand barbed wire fence without moving a hair? Those ones that can gallop through a paddock full of mines and not land on a single one. Nine lives, that one… Unlike myself who falls in random holes in the driveway in the dark!
But I was back on my horses, I could ride again. The rough going seemed to be gone – next stop? Well, we were going back to Blackbutt!
At the start of the year I had been put in contact with a girl who was moving to my town from Toowoomba. She had begun endurance in 2014 and with her new job uprooting her to a new place she didn’t want to give up her hobby – so we met up and little did I know how much things were going to change.
Adriana and I are the same age, we are both teachers (of very different things!) and we both have an undying love of horses and endurance. Adriana had already completed her training rides, so she was qualified to begin riding as a Novice, but unfortunately I didn’t have another horse in training to give her for an 80km yet. She was also a bit nervous of riding a new horse, so I introduced her to my little perlino mare, Sally, and I agreed to lend Sally to her to train and ride in endurance. We aimed to have Sally ready in time for a trial run in a 40km at Cooyar, where Jasmine and I would be attempting the 80km.
Double-wide Sally, at Pony Club late 2014
Sally was fat. I mean really fat. My pony club jumping coach asked me when she was due to drop her foal – that fat! It was going to take some work, but Sally is a really sweet little horse with a very willing temper, her only vice is her inability to tolerate other horses riding right on her tail so she has to wear a red ribbon. Other than that, she is a safe and reliable horse and she and Adriana got along very well. I have a little story that gives testament to her good behaviour – unfortunately it makes Haze and I look like psychos at the same time but I’ll tell the story anyway!
It was January 25, 2015. We knew that rain was forecast, but we desperately wanted to ride and the clouds were far off in the distance and looked decidedly non-threatening so we saddled up – a short ride, we might get a little wet if we were unlucky but hey, whats a little rain? It’s not like we’d melt! So off we went, blobbing around our little 5km loop, Adriana on Sal and myself on Haze. We went into the bushland, unaware that when we would come out of it, the non-threatening clouds would be considerably less non-threatening than previously. In fact, was that thunder? Why yes, yes it was thunder!
Crap. Two kms from home and bitumen roadway the whole way back with rocky verges on either side and in a 70km zone too. Was that lightning? Yes, that was lighting! RUN! Oh boy did we run! We cantered as quickly as was safe along the roadside, all the while knowing that the rain and the black clouds were right behind us and the lighting was right over head – Sally did as she was told without question, left, right, stop, go, she did it and she did it beautifully. Haze on the other hand, was not particularly a fan of the weather I’d chosen to ride him in and was making it known, darting left and right against my leg, spooking at every shadow and even popping in a pigroot or two. Then it hit – wow did it hit! A bolt of lightning touched down about 50m to the left of us in the paddock across the road and while Sally kept course and hardly fluttered sideways, Haze lost all control of himself and jumped out onto the road – despite the slight illogic of running toward the lightning – and went galloping up the road, completely ignoring me as I tried to slow him!
By some miracle we made it back to the paddock before the rain came, we must have been just ahead of it because it took about two seconds for us all to be completely drenched. Spencer had come looking for us just in time and managed to hold the hysterical Hazel while I stripped him of his saddle and shut the gate behind him and Sally, all within two minutes of arriving at the paddock! As we sat in the car, laughing with shock at what had just happened, we watched the ancient tree that the horses used to stand under as it slowly keeled over and gave up on life, finally succumbing to the ferocity of the gale force wind and rain. We still laugh about that day even now!
Our more exciting adventures were coming but I’ll talk about them in time. Two months after the storm we all traveled to Cooyar for the first time, I’d never done a ride there before but I was sure it would be awesome! As it happens I was right because Haze and I completed our second 80km together, and Jasmine completed her first. Not only did she finish, but she came in as 2nd Junior and was awarded Best Conditioned the next day so we had an amazing weekend!
Normally I go into a bit more detail about our rides, but this time we are going to do something a little different – Adriana is going to tell it from her perspective. Here it goes, enjoy!
Cooyar 2015 – Adriana Sardoni
I was introduced to Endurance in 2014 when my career led me from Brisbane (where I had been having riding lessons at Dove Haven Equestrian Park since August 2012) back to my hometown of Toowoomba. I looked up riding schools in Toowoomba, and in March 2014 made a phone call to Jay Randle of Splendacrest. I had a few lessons with Jay and then started going out for trail rides. I had only ever heard of Endurance once at this point. It would have been about 10 years earlier I saw a photo in a horse magazine of a horse being lead over rocky terrain by a rider in a numbered bib. The caption said something along the lines of “in Endurance, riders often dismount to lead their horses over difficult terrain”. During my first few visits to Splendacrest, I started learning bits and pieces about the sport and became both interested and intrigued.
On one of our trail rides, Jay asked me what I wanted to achieve with my riding. I told her that I would love to try endurance “if I’m not too old”. It just so happened that the Lake Manchester ride was 2 weeks away, and they were running a 20km ride which was perfect for a newbie like me. Needless to say, 5km into my first ride, I was hooked. I was pretty sore after 20km and at that point couldn’t imagine riding any further! For the remainder of the year, I completed 1 x 50km and 2 x 40km, before my work took me away from Toowoomba and led me to Hervey Bay. I was devastated to leave my beloved Splendacrest, and thought that my Endurance career would be over before it had even started.
Ready to go! Blue-eyed Girl and Adriana at Cooyar 2015
I put a call-out on the QERA Facebook page for any endurance riders in Hervey Bay, and received a response from Victoria. After moving to Hervey Bay in January 2015, I started riding with Victoria and Jasmine. I was lucky enough to ride one of Victoria’s ponies, Sally. She loves heading out and is a lot of fun to ride. As the Cooyar ride was rolling around, Victoria gave me the opportunity of riding Sally in the 40km. Victoria and Jasmine were going to do the 80km with horses Hazel and Sahala, and I organised to ride in the 40km with Tahlia Franke (one of Australia’s best junior riders) and Allison Gerard.
The 80km started half an hour before the 40km, so after Victoria and Jasmine headed off, I got Sally ready and headed out with Tahlia and Allison.Tahlia remarked how perfect the conditions were for Endurance riding. It was Sally’s first time at an Endurance ride, but she was perfectly behaved and had no issue tagging along with two other horses. The first 10-15km were awesome. I couldn’t believe I was back at an Endurance ride, riding with two of my friends from Splendacrest on a perfect Saturday afternoon. We were travelling at a steady speed, giving the horses regular walking breaks and of course stopping at water points. I was a little concerned when Sally didn’t drink at the first water trough, but I also knew that it was common for horses not to drink early on in rides.
My concerns grew when Sally started pacing and panting. We slowed down and stopped at times to give her the opportunity to catch her breath, but this did not seem to do a lot. She seemed quite stressed and we were all starting to worry. When we reached the next water point, we used water bottles to pour water on her, to try and cool her down. I was so grateful to be riding with Tahlia, who has so much experience riding Endurance horses. Whilst I was worried about Sally, I knew that Tahlia would do the best things for her. As we left the water point, all three of us dismounted, Tahlia unsaddled Sally and we started leading our horses down the hill (Tahlia carrying Sally’s saddle!). We hadn’t gone too far down the hill when the rescue float showed up at the water point to collect a withdrawn lame horse, so we decided to head back up to discuss the prospect of withdrawing Sally. The lady driving the float looked at Sally and listened to her heart with a stethoscope and strongly advised that we withdraw. The float already had two horses on it, so I would need to continue walking her through the course and wait for the float to return in about half an hour. I asked the lady if she thought Sally would end up in the vet hospital. She gave me a concerned look and said “I can’t tell you”. My heart sank. Here I was at my first endurance ride of the year, with a horse belonging to someone I had only known a few weeks, facing the prospect of the vet hospital. I thanked Tahlia and Allison for their help and patience and hugged them goodbye before they continued with their ride.
I started walking down the track, leading Sally with her reins, waiting for the rescue float to return. An hour passed, but I wasn’t too concerned. Sally had started to pick up and was eating some lush green grass by the side of the track. She had stopped panting, but was letting out some rather audible ‘neighs’. The sun started to go down, and still no sign of the rescue float. I was starting to think they had forgotten about me and I was going to have to walk to whole way back to base. I had reception on track, but there was none at the base, so I was not able to get in contact with anybody to remind them to pick me up. As the daylight disappeared, I was glad to have attached a light to my helmet ‘just in case’. Two hours after saying goodbye to our track buddies, headlights appeared ahead, and the rescue float arrived! Another horse was already on it, but we loaded Sally with no trouble and headed back to base.
Sally on track, waiting for the rescue float
Withdrawing was something I had never thought about before this point. I had thought about vetting-out and what that might be like, but withdrawing had never crossed my mind. Consequently, I had no idea what to do in the case of a withdrawal! The trip back to base was my chance to find out, so I asked the lovely rescue float driver many questions about what I needed to do next. She explained that when I arrived back at the base, I would need to go to the time gate to get a time slip. From that time, I would then have 30 minutes to get to vetting, and if my horse passed the vetting she would be ‘withdrawn’, but if she failed it, it would be a vet-out. I returned to my team camp where Jay, Spence (Victoria’s husband) and Adam (Jasmine’s dad) helped strap Sally and we took her to vetting. We checked her heart rate again just before going to the TPR, and it was in the 40s. While her heart rate was being taken, Sally started getting worked up again, so I was relieved when she passed with a heart rate of 53bpm (it cannot be higher than 55bpm for a 40km). We went to the vet who checked all the essentials. I trotted Sally out for the vet to check her gait, and she was declared sound! Therefore, the Cooyar ride was only a ‘withdrawal” for Sally. I was disappointed to not have completed my first ride with my new team, but I was relieved that Sally was ok, and reminded of one of the things I love most about this sport – the horse’s welfare always comes first!
When Victoria and Jasmine returned from the 80km, Victoria looked and saw Sally in her yard, then looked at me and asked “how did you go?”. “We had to withdraw,” I told her, and of course, she understood. The details were saved for after the girls had vetted and returned the horses to their yards with rugs and feeds. They had finished in good time, so took their horses for a walk to the vetting area before the Best Conditioned workouts, to see if they were needed for that. Sally got all worked up in her yard when her two buddies departed and proceeded to break through the electric fence and canter through the Show Grounds until she caught up to her friends. It was almost something out of a comedy, a white horse running through campsites with two people (myself and Spence) chasing after it!
Jasmine and Hala BC Junior!
Jasmine’s horse Sahala won Best Conditioned Junior horse and both horses successfully completed the 80km. Although it wasn’t the start to my 2015 season I had hoped for, I knew that I had found myself a special team. A team of people who put the horses before themselves, who support each other, and are a lot of fun to spend a weekend with. Although I didn’t fall off a horse, I had certainly landed on my feet. This was just the beginning of what I was certain would be a wonderful Endurance season.
2015; We kicked it off with a visit to our vet who gave me the worst news I could have imagined. Over summer we had reorganised our paddocks and introduced my sister’s new horse, Mister. I learned to ride on Mister when I was 12, he had been part of the local RDA for 14 years and he was being retired and starting a new life with us as a little girls’ first horse for the first time in a long time. Unfortunately, he and Aston did not get along and within a week they were both lame after a particularly spectacular biff – Mister recovered from a bruised knee in no time, but Aston developed a swelling on his nearside hind fetlock that would not go away.
Aston enjoying the first of no less than 52 weeks off with his buddies Bob and Mizzy
The vet confirmed the worst: digital sheath tenosynovitis. Aston was well and truly out for at least a year and it was quite possible and in fact entirely likely that his injury would end his ridden career completely even after spelling. Horses of 14 do not recover from tendon injuries as well as younger horses, I was warned.
What could I do? I was paid up to ride in the 80km at Blackbutt in two weeks, but my horse was out lame. My only other possibility was the now four year old Koda who was out spelling after a six month stint in the show ring after being broken in the previous year, and even if she was fit enough she was too young to enter an 80km ride. Jasmine was ready to go for her first 80km with her horse, I couldn’t send her on her first ride alone! But what could I do? I was down – but I was not out for long.
That’s when I got a message from Yvonne. We had never even met face to face, but I knew enough of her history as an endurance trainer and rider to know that she was amazing – and she was offering me her horse. I was on my way to meet Yvonne and Haze a couple of days later and I brought home a dream – he was the spitting image of Bart. He had the same mannerisms, the same face, down to his fleabitten coat and little black feet, he was a mirror of my precious boy and I couldn’t have fallen harder if he’d thrown me.
Hideaway Farm Pacific-Power ~ “Haze”
Haze hadn’t been to a ride since he had been withdrawn at Sparkler at the end of 2014, but he was raring to go when Blackbutt came around. Unfortunately things were going to take another turn. On arrival at the ride base, we found that the other horse had developed a negative reaction to the pink spray applied to a small cut on his shoulder, rendering him lame and unable to start. We scrambled and found a replacement horse, only for it to vet out on the first leg after a rough call when the mare tripped slightly in the trot out.
But Haze and I had gotten through the first leg easily – 30km down, 50km to go. I was in a little bit of a panic, riding a horse that was practically Bart’s twin all by myself in the dark on a three leg 80km had my nerves set on edge. I was on guard, changing leads and diagonals often, walking down even the slightest slope, feeling my arms pulled from their sockets as Haze – keen as a bean – dragged rather than carried me through the darkness! At least, he was keen for about the first kilometre. Then he saw the approaching light of a horse coming in off the first leg and it was suddenly evident that the bobbing light was attached to a TIGER! Cue spooking, spinning, bolting, twisting, falling and accidentally catching my pinkie in my reins and we just about have the result – if you gathered that the result was a broken finger, that is! Yes, that is right, 31kms in and I broke my little finger, out on my own, in the dark, on a horse that I’d only known a week, and I was clearly very out of practice in dealing with Bart-like spooks because the number of times I had bested exactly the same antics from the other grey devil were beyond count.
Do I push on, or do I go back? It’s only a kilometre back to base, I could walk back and withdraw – I could have dinner and go to bed! After all the work I’d put in though? Not a chance. They don’t call it endurance for nothing.
I kept going, I don’t know how but I did. I came back off the second leg and Haze vetted through. He was teaching me a lot out there, travelling along consistently, drinking at every point, eating every chance that he was given – mind you, eating is the last thing you need to convince Haze to do, he doesn’t have any bones I’ve ever seen, I am relatively certain he is actually just blubber covered with white hair.
Haze having a rest before our BC workout post-ride!
Leg three was short and sweet at only 20kms. We rode along with some other riders for a time until I got a bit tired of Haze constantly trying to drag us ahead, so I let him go and we cantered home. We had a little freak out (I had a little freak out) when around the same spot that we had met the tiger, Haze stumbled a little on a washout and bobbed his head for a couple of strides as he regained his tempo, but all was well and he vetted through nicely – 6H 11M, 34, 44 44, 46 and 4th LWT to present for BC. We weren’t going to win that, but hey, it’s nice to be invited to the party right?
The start of our season was not without it’s bumps and bruises, but so far I was optimistic for a good one. I had survived my first 80km ride and I had a new partner in crime. Haze had a wealth of information in his pretty head, and he had a lot to teach me about what to expect of a good solid and seasoned horse in a long ride. What I learned from him was going to reflect in my training methods with my other horses – it wasn’t going to be just a good season, it was going to be much much more.
2014 rolled around and once again I sat on the sidelines for the first half of the year. Aston had pulled a muscle while running around in his paddock like a lunatic over the summer, so he earned himself a break and alot of ET sessions before I was brave enough to put him back in work. It was around August of 2014 that I started to introduce on of my students to endurance with her own horse, so in October we decided to tackle the 40/60E in Kilkivan.
Aston-Martin – Kilkivan 2014
I was still very much in a the learning phase of my endurance career – I still am but thankfully not to quite the same extent! In passing someone had given me some not-so-good advice and I was silly enough to listen to them. I intended to do the ride as quickly as time allowed whether it meant pushing my horse or not, which is not something I now ever suggest to any of my riders, let alone expect of my horses – it was going to be a learning curve.
We flew through the first leg in a little over 3 hours and my student and her horse vetted through their first 40km. Jas was knackered, so I went out for the second leg on my own. It was a bit scary, going off into the dark by myself, especially since Aston is scared of his own shadow on a good day!
We cantered along the roadside until the arrows pointed us off to the right and into a paddock. Since my helmet light was hardly satisfactory I was hard pressed to see where we were meant to go when we were facing the way the arrow had pointed us – after a kangaroo suddenly hopped out past us it was pretty well the end of the world for poor Aston and the end of my sense of direction too! A little meltdown ensued and when he was finally done with his hissy fit and I could look around I had no idea where we were and there wasn’t an arrow in sight. My only option was to start heading in the direction I hoped was the right one along the dark track.
On track – Kilkivan 2014
About five minutes passed when I saw a flash coming from behind – I had picked the right way by some miracle! The rider came up and asked if I’d seen any arrows lately. I hadn’t, but I also wasn’t really moving quickly enough to make me expect to see another either! Aston perked up when the other horse appeared, he’s always a very social and opinionated horse, but he seemed more than usually enamoured with the pretty mare. Her rider was named Candice, and after riding with one another for the next hour we all four got along very well. Our horses paces matched so they moved along well together, after a couple of stories were swapped we discovered we had crossed paths at my second 40km at Fernvale in 2011. We kept each other entertained for the next 15km and were grateful for the company – especially after a detour caused by a parked truck that blocked an arrow and sent us straight past an intersection we were supposed to turn left at…!
It was my first time completing a second leg at any ride and I made a lovely friend who kept me going as our happy matching bays trotted in together to complete in 4 hours and 37 minutes. Aston took no time to strap and vetted in at 46bpm so I could not have been happier, but I don’t know how I’d have struggled through the last 20km alone – meeting Candice and swapping stories in the dark made the whole thing seem a lot easier than I’d expected. Maybe 80km wasn’t out of reach after all…?
The season wasn’t over for me yet, there was still another ride within my 3 hour radius that would run a couple of weeks later. Sparkler, held at the Imbil Showgrounds. A ride base that held some very sad memories for me.
On track – Sparkler 2014
My fear was irrational, even now I am irrational about it – I know it, and I fight it. So we packed our float, loaded up the horses and towed them down the road for another 40km ride. This time another of my students would join Jas and I, riding a borrowed horse for her first 40km. Bec was dedicated to becoming a show jumper, endurance was not something she had ever gravitated to but she was going to be leaving us for boarding school the following year, so it was a last chance to spend time just the three of us riding together and I am so glad we managed it.
We met quite a few lovely people out on track, a lady on a big grey gelding rode along with us for the first few kilometres which we got through rather quicker than we had expected to! Unfortunately there were a couple of scuffles too, caused by what I can only assume were poor decisions. At one point another rider allowed their horse to charge past us without so much as a word of warning, shoving straight down the middle of the track and almost pushing one of my young riders and her horse completely off the road and into the scrub. I was less than impressed and we tried to steer clear of that rider and horse until we found a safe and wide section to pass and stay ahead of them.
On track – Sparkler 2014
Back at base, we all three vetted through. Aston and Bec’s mare Sonata both breezed through with HR’s of 44bpm with a completion time of 3hr 19min. Jasmine’s horse took a little longer to strap and we had the help of an experienced hand who figured out his tic and got Hala through to vet. The girls were completely stuffed so they went to bed while I stayed up and watched the horses, and strapped for my friend’s team mates as they came in from the 80km ride that lasted well into the night. It was a challenging track and I learned a lot, like how fun it is to strap with a team – I still like to go to rides just to help out even now, sometimes it is just as fun to not ride!
The next morning we packed up and got ready to head home – but first came presentations where we were each awarded a lovely hand-painted glass made by Mindy Davies. I still have mine and so do the girls, it is a beautiful little trophy to remind me of the ride that got me back on the road to where I wanted to be. 2015 was just around the corner, it would have its bumps and I would get my fair share of bruises – but it was still going to be amazing.
In 2013 I went back in time – back to the local Riding for the Disabled group that I had volunteered at when I was a child, only this time I was the instructor. Volunteering for a group that enabled me to share my love of horses and riding with other people was a very fulfilling thing. While I was there, I came back in contact with the horses I had learned to ride on many years prior, some of whom were getting into their early 20’s and others who were well into their 30’s. I didn’t know how to help them deal with the affects of their age, so I found a bodyworker who could.
Aston-Martin fighting fit for the 40km at Widgee 2013
It was around the same time that I had finally gotten up the courage to put Aston and myself back into work to prepare for the upcoming ride at Widgee and I was starting to feel more than a little bit terrified. I wasn’t about to let that stop me, but I decided to find a useful channel for my excess energy. That channel ended up being a trip to Melbourne where I attended the first level of Equine Touch therapy.
Bobby standing quietly during his colic episode
After learning the first level, I became more than a little bit obsessed with the ET method – let’s be honest, I’m still in love with it. In fact, I am convinced it saved my big Thoroughbred gelding’s life last week – my 21 year old dressage horse, Bob, colicked at 3.30am the morning after I wrote last weeks’ blog. How is that for scary? We had no bute, the vet was on standby, he wouldn’t eat or drink, he wanted to roll but we couldn’t let him – all I had in my tool bag to help my beautiful friend was Equine Touch, and it worked like magic. By 6am he was no longer trying to roll, but standing quietly and sipping from his water – a friend brought a dose of bute for him at 6.30am just in case and it would be another 12 hours before he was out of the woods, but ET bodywork is what got him through the worst.
My love affair with Equine Touch is well and truly going strong. I use it on any new horses, I regularly tune up the working horses and in times of stress, it is my first aid kit – and that is how I used it for the very first time after completing my first workshop.
Flashback to Widgee in 2013, it was a lovely ride, I had a great time setting out with a few of the people I had met the year before. I was lucky enough to ride along with two young girls, one of whom was riding Storm, the horse I completed my first 40km on. The ride went along with no trouble and we completed with only one on-track mishap which involved Aston kicking a large rock sky-high about 3kms from ride base and temporarily stunning his leg. He was not lame however, so after a little break we continued to finish successfully.
At the Biggenden base for our 40km completion in 2013
Our next ride was Biggenden, two months later. That would be the first time Equine Touch would help me in an instant – up to then I had only so far used it on chronic issues rather than situational ones. But Aston had not travelled as well this time, he was a bit stiff and the vet who examined him as we vetted in noticed. Since I am usually running next to him, I miss things like that, but the vet didn’t and while he didn’t think Aston was lame, he did want to see him warmed up and trotted out again before we would be passed to start the ride.
Aston is the sweatiest horse I know – I was not keen to saddle him up and ride around as had been suggested, especially since I’d just bathed the big fat-head and I didn’t want to do it again afterward! So instead my husband, Spencer, trotted Aston out for me while I looked for the trouble. Once I spotted it in the right hamstring, I spent 20 minutes doing a full body balance and then focused on the hamstrings. I immediately went to re-present to the vet, thinking that if it wasn’t enough I’d rather go home than risk pulled muscles by going into the ride with a problem.
We trotted out for the vet again and as I came back he was beaming and said that a warm-up was all that had been needed. As happy as I was, I couldn’t in good conscience let him think I’d gone away and warmed up – I had to tell him what I’d actually done, and I was a little worried that I wouldn’t be taken seriously to be honest! But the vet’s face lit up and he was practically bouncing to know I’d learned to do bodywork myself, amazed at how immediately the change had been seen and pressed me to keep learning new things like it because it was what the sport was all about – the horses!
Aston and I completed the Biggenden 40km quickly but cautiously – I actually stopped several times to do a bit of work on his hamstrings when we paused for him to drink, and I still feel it made all the difference. My respect for Equine Touch therapy would only keep growing and within six months I was back down in Melbourne at the level two workshop, which expanded my knowledge and gave me the skills I used last week to get Bobby through his colic.
While learning the other levels of ET would be amazing, I do sometimes wonder if I will ever have the chance to do it again – at this time I’d settle for a refresher of level two! Unfortunately there aren’t any workshops run in Queensland, there hasn’t been enough interest to do one here as yet – but nothing would give me more pleasure than to welcome the wonderful lady who taught me to come here and teach other people. So if anyone wants to give it a try – please let me know! I’d love to make inquiries into running a clinic here, god knows I have enough horses to run one, and nothing would make me happier than seeing ET at the fingertips of others who would use it for the good of their own horses.
I entered and completed my first two 40km rides within the space of a few months. I read everything I could and asked question on top of question of everyone I met, to learn as much as I possibly could to make a good go of the sport. I had a goal in mind – the 2013 Tom Quilty in Kilkivan.
Bart – January 2012
Looking back at myself now, I was insane to even think for a moment that I could make such an attempt with the time frame I had. My only suitable horse was 16 year old Bart, the next possibility was my brand spanking new 2 year old Arabian Connemara filly who was barely handled at the time and certainly not ready to be broken in for a considerable time. Bart was very fit and healthy and he wore 16 like a 5 year old, but still – he would be coming on 18 by the time the Quilty rolled around and I still had three 80km completions and at least 160km completion before I was even qualified to ride a borrowed horse in the event let alone my own. Hind sight is 20/20 though, and I eventually learned that it is wiser to make small short term goals and let the long term ones shift and shuffle as the cards may fall.
In 2012 I entered my first 80km ride with Bart. It was a horror journey to get to the ride and I am still affected by it today – the slightest thing going wrong on a trip to a ride can send me into a meltdown. I won’t go into the details, it is too hard to think of that weekend, but the long and the short of it is that Bart did not come home.
Bart and Mercy with two of my students in late 2011
To say that I was devastated at the loss of my horse is to understate every emotion I felt. He was my first horse, my favourite horse, my best friend. I spent months agonising over it, what had I done wrong, what could I have done differently, what caused it – but the truth is colic can happen to any horse, any where, any time, healthy, young, fit or sickly, old or fat. It is one of those things that we think about, but we never expect it will happen to our own horse. But it happened to mine, and it changed a lot about how I dealt with my other horses.
A month later, I lent my husband’s mare to a young friend who wanted to compete at a local interschool event, dressage, jumping, sporting and the like – a competition I had been taking my riding school students to for many years. But this time I was on high alert, hyper-sensitive to everything, I was stressed to the max, and my poor Mercy knew it even though there wasn’t a single thing wrong with her. I was up every few hours checking her water, making sure she was pooping and eating normally, the poor soul was fed such a watered down hard feed that hard is the last way you could describe it – soup would be more accurate. My nerves on taking horses to competitions would eventually be returned to their unwound state, but that was a while down the road!
Two months went by and it was time to find another horse to take on Bart’s role as a school horse, my students’ could only keep riding the large and cumbersome Mercy for so long before they’d begin to think pacing is what all horses do. So I started to look around and I found one, an unregistered 12 year old purebred Arabian gelding of Crabbet breeding.
Alladin, or Laddie, as they called him – what an original name for the only Arabian horse on a farm stuffed with Quarter Horses and Appaloosas, yes? He was crazy, it is the only suitable word for that horse at the time. He reared, and sweated, and fretted, and spooked; it was a rather dangerous time for us both with a lot of crying on my part that he would never be as good as Bart, and a lot of screaming on his side as he tried to communicate that he didn’t know a Bart and he was a completely different horse, didn’t I know that? Eventually I realised that the problem with the horse was simple –I was the problem. I was so caught up with trying to carry Bart along with me, determined to never forget him, that whenever I went near him the poor new horse was being smothered with my expectations. Once I set down the emotional baggage and started to listen to the horse in front of me, we started to get somewhere.
Aston-Martin – June 2012
I named him Aston-Martin and he is as crazy now as he was the first day I met him. He is as opposite to Bart as possible to look at him – dark to light, tall to small, sensible to irrational. But they are two sides of one coin, as alike as two could be in heart and mind, as silly, as friendly, as talkative, as gentle and as generous. It would be more than a year after losing Bart before I had the heart or the strength to make another attempt at endurance again. I felt beaten and twisted and sad, but my dad was fond of that old saying and I heard him saying it to me in my head – if at first you don’t succeed, try until you get it. Widgee 2013 was Aston’s first 40km ride – time to take another step. Forward.
So blog one will be a bit boring, but I figured I should start from the beginning.
My name is Victoria, I live in what was a little seaside village when I arrived, and is now a larger seaside town on the coast of Queensland, roughly three and a half hours north of Brisbane.
I began learning to ride when I was 5 and my family was living in the suburbs of Melbourne, there was a riding school in Sydenham many moons ago. My parents once owned shares in racehorses and mum knew which end bit and which end kicked – that was about it! Fast forward twenty one years and I am now a qualified riding instructor, I work for a saddle building school selling leather to other saddlers and I train a small band of endurance horses.
When I was a kid I all I wanted to do was jump. I think most kids do, and like most mums mine didn’t want me to. I did anyway, I wasn’t too bad at it either but it was a love that gradually went away after I got my first horse. He was a half Arabian gelding named Bart. He was a rather talented little dressage horse and pretty damn good at hacking too but he hit jumps like a bomb – they exploded in his wake. I decided to look for a sport more suited to his personality, which led me to my first taste of long distance riding in the form of the Kilkivan Great Horse Ride in 2009. I had no idea what endurance was or how I could possibly get involved and start learning – but eventually the chance came.
Bart and I (left) at the end of our very first Kilkivan Great Horse Ride in 2009
I could describe 2011 as the worstyear of my life – I lost my dad, and my mum was later diagnosed with cancer. It was a bad year, there is no denying it – but I cant write 2011 off completely – I also got married to my wonderful husband and I started in my very first 40km endurance ride.
It was the start of a long road for me. A long road that has both good as well as bad attached to it. But the thing that shines for me is the love I have developed for this amazing sport – ENDURANCE. For most people who went through what I did right at the beginning of my endurance career, it would have ended all thought of ever trying it again. I almost bowed out, I was even encouraged to by some Job’s Comforters; it took me some time to get my head back on straight and realise that I had a lesson to learn. I eventually picked myself up and dusted myself off – got back in the saddle and started from the beginning.
The Blackbutt ride loomed, we found a way to get the horses there, we were ready to ride. Adriana was nervous but we rode off into the afternoon excited in spite of the nerves! I’d last ridden the track solo for the better part of the ride, I’d looked at nothing because I’d been so keen to get through as quickly as I could so that Haze and I could be done and dusted before midnight – but this time was different. This time I had a novice horse to take care of, his first two leg ride which would surely prove a struggle for his mental state. This time I had Adriana to keep me company and we had absolutely no idea what to expect from Sam – slow and steady was the order of the day.
Marvel Endurance 