Defining Endurance

Endurance Defined

“The fact or power of enduring an unpleasant or difficult process or situation without giving way.”

So, it’s not endurance if it’s too easy, right? So the journey of learning endurance is bound to have ups and downs, and when you add the horse element, there is an element of unpredictability that may be the only thing you can predict.  

So here’s the Lost Padres story-

This was the plan: 100 miles, two days, first ride on my own horse, the horse that I own.

ON Friday, got a fabulous trailer ride up to Rancho Santa Margarita with Brooke and her horse Spirit. Unload at the gorgeous green base camp. Ozzie is a great traveler, trained well, and loves travelling with Spirit. He settles right in with this hay bag, evening bucket and drinks like a champ.

entering Rancho Santa Margarita

We tack up and go out on a little pre-ride for the horses to stretch their legs. I’m sure you have all heard of the vicious, horse eating, stump monster. Well, we had an encounter. Spirit was in the lead, and just side stepped a tad off the single track. The mossy valley oak trees in the canyon were swaying to the breeze and Ozzie seemed to think that stump was going to lurch past Spirit and get him. I was distracted. And as I gracefully became separated from the saddle, I just hoped Ozzie wouldn’t take off. Thump. My graceful fall ended in a flat landing in what I hoped was not poison oak. Ozzie stood next to me, staring at me and seemed to say, “How’d you get down there?” And we finish the pre ride.

Ozzie on Friday looking great and ready for the ride

As the sun moves behind the hills, the temperature plummets. The fabulous old school, wool and canvas blanket (or rug as my British friend calls them) given to me by Elizabet fits Ozzie like a glove. And he looks like a rock star in it. We fill out our rider card, enjoy a fabulous dinner by Annie, Juan and crew, enjoy a cool Corona, listen intently to the Duck at the ride meeting and hit the sack early.

And yep, it’s hard to sleep. I’m pretty calm about the ride, but the responsibility of the horse outside tied to the trailer keeps me waking at any odd sound.

I had gotten up around eleven to put the fleece cooler on over the wool blanket cause it had chilled down quite a bit. Then back to sleep.

The whinny of horse wakes me around 1:30. These endurance horses, most of them anyhow, are trained well and used to travelling and living at the trailers all night, camp is usually pretty quiet. So I sit up and look out. I see two horses where one should be. Ozzie has gotten loose and is standing near his new friend Spirit.

I slip on my “night” shoes (easy to put on, no tying for quick exit), put on my sweatshirt, and grab the flashlight and slip out into the gorgeous moonlit night.

Both horses are standing very quietly and seem perfectly content to stand next to each other all night, perhaps a little love affair is brewing. I walk over to Ozzie, in the dark, and pet his neck saying something like “silly horse”, grab his halter and go to lead him back to his spot on the other side of the trailer.  He doesn’t want to go.

Now some horses might hesitate when you start to lead them, not Ozzie. One his things, that needs a little work, and I’m working on, is that he is a tad pushy when you are hand walking him. So this raises a little teeny tiny red flag to me. I tug him, and say “come on,” he takes one step, and then his right front leg is lugged forward. He doesn’t bend it.

My breath stops.

Ok, so it’s pretty dark, I have not used the flashlight cause I can see well enough so far. In my mind I envision a leg, with bones protruding, snapped in one of the horrible ground squirrel holes that are spread across the valley.

I make him walk, one horrible, painful step at a time to his spot. And reattach his lead rope with the brass clip that should not come undone. I close my eyes to the darkness and begin to run my hands slowly, gently down each leg. I expect to feel a hard naked bone protruding at any moment.

Relief when I don’t feel anything.

I can just barely make out two spots on his hoof. Blood. I get out my flashlight and search his legs. On his right front leg I find a curved cut about one inch long, about two inches above his knee. When a friend asks the next morning if he could have been kicked, I immediately know that is the mark of a tip of hoof.

When I find the wound it is still bleeding a little. No visible swelling. I get some water and a sponge. And some antibacterial cleaner and ointment. Clean it, disinfect, put a bit of gauze, and wrap it.

By this time Brooke has woken up and asks, “Is Ozzie ok?”

“No, he’s got a cut on his leg. I’m not riding,” I think I said.

I'm able to sleep a bit. And wake up at dawn with those getting ready to ride. It is a misty morning with a chill in the air.

Saturday am

I go to the ride manager camping site, and ask if the ride vet can come check him out when she gets a chance. Annie will send her over ASAP. The vet had (in addition to the Duck) was the fabulous Alina. Originally from South Africa she spent several years working with race horses at Del Mar and Santa Anita. Ozzie was in excellent hands. 

The vet finished up her duties in the am and then comes over. She also thinks he’s in much more pain than is warranted by the little cut, but his leg flexes fine, and she can’t feel any movement in the bone when she presses pretty hard all around the spot. A friend of mine, before she left on her ride, used a heat gun to search the leg and shoulder on both sides for heat. And that basically confirmed he had no other sore spots, as the only heat was at the spot where we could see the injury.

We discussed options. A weekend visit to Alamo Pintado (high caliber large animal care nearby) as the gold standard for an x-ray right away, Brooke was willing to take me. Or we wrap up the leg good, keep him still at the trailer, and see if there is any improvement by the next morning. I feel comfortable monitoring for 24 hours. The vet told me about a “saucer” fracture. Where a slice of bone may have been partially clipped away from the bone, and a minor surgery is done to cut the slice out, allowing the bone to heal. The prognosis would be good for that. So we started him on antibiotics,  kept his whole leg wrapped, and he got a little walking and grazing  as he improved a bit but mostly had his fill of three kinds of hay, his daily mash and watched the horses come in and out on the rides. He moved a lot better the next morning, still sore to the touch. So we kept him quiet, a little walking and settled in. I feel it was actually good for him to stand tied for those two days. 

all wrapped up and enjoying unending hay

I spent my weekend enjoying the gorgeous spot, helping out at lunch check (the lunch vet check was in camp) and at the finish line, and enjoying a cool margarita mixed by the famous Juan.

The short story is he walked better each day, and after an uneventful trailer ride home I was able to get Dr. Charles Liskey to come out within an hour of arriving. I think invoking the name of the The Duck helped, as in we were at a Duck ride. The x-ray showed a very minor radial fracture – he showed me different views of a short line in the bone. He explained that he expects 100 percent recovery, good as new. We are very lucky, a couple inches lower and his knee would have been toast. Ozzie will get 90 days off (at least), has to live in a smaller stall to keep him from trotting and goofing off to let that bone heal well. And he’ll get as much hand walking as I can do. Here we go, the endurance journey is just beginning and I’m tucking a lot of learning and experiences under my belt for the long ride.

So I'll be getting a bull nose clip on a lead rope and wrapping it with duct tape at all rides in the future. There will be no more escaping, I'm done with that.

By the way, on Monday Ozzie turned 12. Happy Birthday Oz man. 

Camp