“Look,” Lisa said in a low voice, coming up between Carole and Stevie, “most of the horses look like Arabs.”
It was often possible to tell which breed a horse was just by looking at it. Thoroughbreds were elegant, with long legs and long backs. Quarter horses were shorter and stockier, with short backs and thicker heads. Arabian horses had one less bone in their spines than most horses, so they tended to be the shortest-backed of all, but they had long, graceful necks and dainty faces.
Carole nodded. “They may not all be registered Arabs, but they sure look like Arabs.”
“I wonder why?” Lisa said.
“Max said—” Carole began, but Chloe interrupted.
“Arabs are the perfect distance horse,” she said. “They were bred for long rides through the desert. Whitey here is an Arab with champion endurance horses on both sides. That means—”
“We know what that means,” Carole interrupted. It meant Chloe’s horse’s mother and father were both endurance horses.
“Max is riding an Arab,” Lisa said. “That’s Barq. His name means ‘lightning’ in Arabic.”
“Too cool!” Chloe shouted. “See, Whitey’s full name is White Lightning, only in Arabic. It’s on his papers. Something Barq, I never can remember. Oh, that’s cool. Max,” she said in a louder voice. “It seems our horses are twins or something. Whitey’s real name has Barq in it!”
Max grinned. “Too cool,” he said.
“I’m dying,” Lisa muttered. “Did those words really come out of Max’s mouth? Stevie, where are you going?”
“Up to ride with Phil,” Stevie muttered back. “Sorry to desert you guys.”
“It’s okay,” Carole told her. “If we could desert us, we would.”
“Do you think …?” Lisa asked.
“No,” Carole answered without hesitation. “Somebody has to ride with Max or Chloe will take him over. And if I have to, you have to.”
“And if I have to, you have to,” Lisa agreed. “Besides, I’m not sure riding with Stevie and Phil would be an improvement. What’s with Phil today?”
“He didn’t do much preparation for the endurance ride, because he didn’t think he needed to,” Carole said promptly. “Now he’s worried that he was wrong, so he’s trying extra hard to prove that he’s right.”
Lisa shook her head in amazement at her friend’s perception. “That’s exactly it, I’m sure—but how did you know?”
“Simple. I thought about how Stevie would be in the same situation.”
Lisa sighed. “I know. They are alike, aren’t they? I hope Stevie doesn’t try anything stupid.”
At a signal, the entire mass of horses and riders surged forward. “Here we go!” Carole cried. Starlight flicked his tail and eagerly mouthed the bit. The starting point was really a large, open field, and the path that led away from it was broad enough for a dozen horses to travel abreast. Far away they could see where the path narrowed, and Carole knew that it would soon start into the woods. Most of the endurance ride trail, like much of the state of Virginia, would be wooded and hilly.
Lisa rode on Carole’s left side, and Chloe rode on her right. Max was beside Chloe. They kept their horses trotting well in hand, even though Starlight and especially Prancer seemed eager to move toward the front. Prancer had been a racehorse, and her instincts told her to fight to be first. She tossed her head and tried to break into a canter. Lisa steadied her. Already the huge group of riders was beginning to break up: Some, clearly advanced, pushed toward the front. Others hung back.
“Come on!” Phil urged, sending Teddy into a small gap in the group of horses in front of him. “Stevie, Mr. Baker, come on!” Phil grinned from sheer excitement. Teddy wanted to move forward so badly that it was actually difficult to hold him back—and Phil didn’t want to hold him. He lightened his grip on the reins, and Teddy trotted faster.
“Wait up!” Stevie said, laughing. Mr. Baker followed her. Phil had found an open space toward the front of the mass of horses, and Stevie and Mr. Baker fell in beside him. “Belle feels like she wants to gallop!” she told Mr. Baker.
“So does Dominic,” Mr. Baker said, laughing but sitting back in the saddle to slow his gelding down. Dominic broke into a canter. The more Mr. Baker asked him to slow down, the more slowly Dominic cantered, but he seemed unwilling to trot. At last the horse gave in and trotted. Mr. Baker patted his neck, and Dominic tried to canter again. Mr. Baker, Stevie, and Phil all laughed.
“Teddy wants to gallop, too, but not that badly,” Phil said. “This is fun!”
Farther back, Lisa and Carole were also laughingly restraining their excited horses. Prancer shook her head and whinnied loudly. Only Barq and Whitey seemed calm. Carole loosened her reins and Starlight dove forward. It might be better, she reasoned, to let him work out some of his high jinks at the start. I can settle him in a few minutes, when this crowd has thinned.
“I wouldn’t hurry your horse if I were you,” Chloe called to her. “This race is fifty miles long, you know—it’s not going to be won or lost in the first ten minutes.”
Carole pretended she didn’t hear. She knew her horse, and she thought it was better for Starlight to go forward.
“Carole,” Max said, “I agree with Chloe. Tell Starlight to whoa. Don’t let him get flustered.”
Carole pulled Starlight up, blushing. “But Max—”
“Whitey always used to get excited at the start, too,” Chloe said. “Don’t feel bad.”
Carole didn’t feel bad about Starlight at all—she understood his eager nature. She did feel bad that Max had corrected her, and she was beginning to feel very bad about Chloe’s existence. Did the girl have to act like she knew everything? Carole thought about trying to explain herself, then gave up. What difference did it make, when Max had already decided to defer to Chloe the Expert on all particulars? Carole dropped Starlight behind Barq and Whitey and made a face at Lisa.
Lisa returned a sympathetic look. Leaning over, she whispered to Carole, “This is going to be a real endurance ride, all right. We’re going to have to endure fifty miles of Chloe.”
STEVIE, PHIL, AND Mr. Baker trotted steadily side by side. They’d been riding for nearly an hour. The path was still wide, but now it wound in and out of woods, up small hills, and down valleys. The footing remained good, and Belle seemed to feel as if she could trot forever. She was sweating lightly but looked in terrific shape. “I’ll bet we’ve already gone ten miles,” Stevie said. “We’re flying.”
Phil grinned. “See? I told you this wouldn’t be too difficult.” He reached down to pat Teddy’s neck. Teddy looked every bit as fit and happy as Belle. Phil was probably right, Stevie thought. This wasn’t going to be as hard as she’d thought. Max always liked to get them superprepared for everything, so he’d probably gone overboard with their training schedule. But Stevie didn’t mind. She’d certainly rather be overprepared than underprepared.
“It’s a gorgeous day,” she said. “I just hope it doesn’t get too much hotter.” The sun shone bright in a cloudless sky, and there was barely a hint of breeze. She was already sweating a little bit, like Belle, and she’d drunk one of the two boxes of juice in her fanny pack. “Are you sure we’re only halfway to the check?”
“I’m afraid so,” Mr. Baker said. He smiled at her. Stevie smiled back. She had always liked him, even though he wasn’t as easy to get to know as Max.
The trail was marked by occasional pieces of orange surveyor’s tape, but the riders were still so closely bunched that most had just followed the group in front of them. Now, as they turned out of the woods, they could see several groups of riders all making their way down the side of a very large field. Far ahead, the riders disappeared into another line of trees.
“Fantastic,” Phil said. “We’ve got all this open space. Let’s canter!”
Stevie shook her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said. “All the books say that the most efficient gait for a horse is the trot. They ca
n canter faster, but their canter takes so much more energy that on a long ride they’re better off trotting almost all the way. After all,” she added, looking at Phil, “we’ve got forty miles to go. And everyone says the trail gets a lot harder from here.”
Phil looked back at her so sincerely that Stevie felt a flash of pride. He seemed impressed with all she’d learned about distance riding. Even if all that conditioning wasn’t really necessary for the horses, Stevie thought, I’m still glad Max made us learn so much. It’ll be better for Belle if I ride her correctly today.
“Stevie,” Phil said in a soft voice, “you’re starting to sound just like Chloe. So when will you be buying Belle that lovely pink plastic bridle?” He smirked, and Stevie involuntarily tightened her hands on her reins. Phil wasn’t really impressed with her at all—in fact, he thought she was being silly.
“Or maybe, with Belle’s coloring, you should consider royal blue,” Phil continued. “I think I saw one of those at the starting line. It’d be all the rage at Pony Club meets—not to mention the next time you show at Briarwood.” Phil signaled to Teddy and cantered away before Stevie could respond. When he cantered back, he was smiling. “I’m sorry, Stevie,” he said. “I shouldn’t laugh. I know you’ve been studying this stuff. But you should hear how funny you sound—I mean, like you said, we’re not riding this to win, or to get points for the Junior Fabulous Rider of the World, like that Chloe—we’re just having fun. And this is fun. It’s one big fifty-mile trail ride.”
Stevie’s indignation softened, but only a little. “You’ll wish you knew all I know when Belle and I finish ahead of you,” she said.
“Hah. That won’t happen.” Phil patted Teddy, then cantered away again. He stopped partway down the field to wait for them. Stevie, resolute, held to a steady trot, and Mr. Baker stayed beside her.
“I know I probably sound silly—” Stevie said to him.
“Not at all,” he replied. “I think you’re being very smart and thoughtful about this whole ride. As I said before, I wish Phil had done a little more to prepare for this than take a few extra-long trail rides.”
“But do you think it will hurt him … or Teddy?” Stevie knew that Phil would never, ever, do anything he thought would harm Teddy. He loved his horse, and he took very good care of him.
“No, of course not,” Mr. Baker said. “If I truly thought that, I wouldn’t have let Phil come. Teddy’s always in pretty good shape. But this is my first endurance ride, too, so I don’t know everything, and I think that the more you know about any new situation, the better off you’re going to be. Plus, learning is a big part of Pony Club. This ride isn’t a Pony Club event in any way, but Max and I both like to see our riders apply Pony Club principles to other riding situations. Always learn everything you can, Stevie. With horses, you’ll find you can never know too much.”
Stevie smiled. It sounded like something Max would say, and it made her feel reassured about both herself and Phil. When they reached Phil and Teddy, Phil was standing in his stirrups, looking down the trail.
“I’ve figured out what that line of trees is,” he said. “A river! We’ve got a river crossing!”
LISA AND CAROLE exchanged more agonized looks—their three hundred thousandth agonized look, by Lisa’s calculation, of the morning. They were trotting side by side through a nice wooded trail, behind Max and Chloe, and for the last forty-five minutes—the entire ride—they’d had to endure Chloe’s endless, bragging chatter. So far she’d told them forty-seven different stories illustrating Whitey’s amazing equine brilliance. Lisa thought Whitey looked amazingly ordinary, and she didn’t believe half of what Chloe said. Amazing endurance horse, my left foot, she thought. And Whitey was a stupid name for a horse.
“When Chloe wants to go to an endurance ride, I bet she doesn’t even need to load Whitey into the trailer,” Lisa muttered to Carole. “A horse that smart probably loads himself. Just opens the back of the trailer, drops the ramp, and walks right in.”
“Probably,” Carole agreed in a low voice. “Then he turns around, pulls the ramp up, locks the door, and ties his head by the front.”
“I bet he’s better than that,” Lisa returned. “I bet he drives the truck.”
“I don’t know,” Carole said. “Do you think Whitey could handle a stick shift?”
“A horse like Whitey?” Lisa exclaimed. “Why, certainly.”
“What was that?” Chloe asked, turning in the saddle.
“Uh—we were just admiring the shape of Whitey’s hindquarters,” Lisa answered, making it up on the spot. “Carole was asking if I thought he could go up really steep hills, with hindquarters like that, and I said, ‘Why, certainly.’ ”
Chloe beamed. “He’s sure got the build for endurance, doesn’t he?” she said. “But, you know, he should. His grandmother is the sister of the grandmother of Rio.”
Lisa didn’t have a clue what that meant, but she wasn’t about to say so. She was pleased to see that Max and Carole looked equally blank.
“Sorry, you’ve lost us,” Max said politely. “Who’s Rio?”
“Oh, that’s right—you’re not really distance riders, so how would you know? Rio is the pet name for R. O. Grand Sultan.” Chloe beamed again.
Max raised his eyebrows as if impressed. “Oh,” he said. “That is something.”
“Who’s R. O. Grand Whatever?” Lisa asked, annoyed that it still didn’t make sense to her. “Remember, we’re not really distance riders.” She was pretty sure Chloe was incapable of forgetting that.
“I thought everyone had heard of him,” Chloe said, a look of astonishment on her face.
“Not us,” Carole said briefly. She ducked to avoid a low-hanging branch.
“He’s one of the greatest endurance horses of all time. He’s won world championships, everything. He’s amazing.” Chloe slowed Whitey so that she could ride between Carole and Lisa.
“That’s nice,” Carole said. “So he’s your horse’s what? Second cousin twice removed? I never can keep those things straight. Anyway, I’ve always thought that what a horse does is much more important than what his lineage is.” Carole looked toward Max for encouragement, and he turned slightly and winked at her. She felt better. Maybe he hadn’t been as impressed about the Rio thing as he’d sounded. It was Max who had taught her not to care so much about breeding.
“Sure,” Chloe said. “But a horse’s background can be important, too. I like to think of it as telling you what the odds are that your horse might succeed at something. I mean, if you bred two great jumpers to each other, you’d think their foal would have a better chance of being a great jumper than a foal whose parents were the two lousiest jumpers on earth.”
“True,” Carole said.
“So when I think of everything I want to accomplish with Whitey, I’m glad that he has a lot of other endurance horses in his family. What kind of background does your horse have?”
Carole patted Starlight’s neck fondly. “He’s part Thoroughbred and part quarter horse, and part we-don’t-know-what, but he’s all heart and good sense, and he jumps beautifully. I wouldn’t change him for anything.”
Chloe nodded. “He looks tough, but he’s not too heavy. He could have a little Arab in him.”
Carole sighed and nodded. Since she had gotten Starlight, different people had told her that he looked totally Thoroughbred, totally quarter horse, part Morgan, part Saddlebred, and part Tennessee walking horse. It always seemed that people thought he was whatever breed they happened to like best. Of course Chloe would think he was Arabian. Carole didn’t think he looked anything of the sort. Still, she supposed it was meant as a compliment.
Chloe turned to Lisa. “What about your mare?” she asked. “She doesn’t look like an Arab.”
“She’s a full Thoroughbred,” Lisa said, a touch defensively. “She was raced. She was going to be good, too, but she hurt her foot.”
“That’s too bad.”
“Yeah, it was really awful f
or a while. See, we knew her before she got hurt, so we were really upset. No one could ride her for a long time, but she healed beautifully, and she’s fine now.” Lisa looked down at Prancer’s shining neck and delicate head and remembered the awful day at the racetrack when The Saddle Club had seen Prancer stumble, and nearly fall, in the middle of a race.
“No …,” Chloe said. “I mean, what happened to her is too bad, too. It must have been terrible. But I mean it’s too bad you decided to take a Thoroughbred on this ride. Didn’t you say she was a lesson horse? You could have ridden something like Barq.”
“I didn’t want to ride something like Barq,” Lisa said. “I love Prancer, and she’s a great horse. I ride her whenever I can. Why would it matter that she’s a Thoroughbred?”
Chloe shrugged. “Some of them don’t handle the distance well,” she said. “But I’m sure you’re right—she’ll be fine.”
“Prancer’s handled the training very well indeed,” Max said, and Lisa shot him a grateful look. She knew Max wouldn’t have let her take Prancer if he’d thought it was a bad idea—and even if he hadn’t ridden an endurance ride before, he knew a lot about horses and riding, and he’d made sure they were all prepared. He knew what Prancer could do, and so did Lisa. Chloe didn’t. Still, her words planted another seed of doubt in Lisa’s mind. What if fifty miles was too much for Prancer? Lisa urged Prancer forward and rode alongside Max. For now she’d had enough of Chloe.
They rode out of the woods and across a long, flat field. Far away they could see other riders trotting, and when Lisa looked behind her, she could see more following. It was wonderful to think of so many people all doing the same competition at once. In a horse show, people mostly competed one at a time.
Lisa pointed. “Do you think those trees mean the river?” she asked.
“I’d say so,” Max answered. “See how they curve along the field? They look like they’re growing along a riverbank. Plus, the river’s on the map, and we should be coming to it about now.” Lisa nodded. She remembered the map. She felt a little excited. She’d crossed streams a hundred times, but never a full-scale river.
Endurance Ride Page 3