Endurance Ride (7 page)

“Ouch,” Carole said softly.

“Yeah,” Max agreed. “Say, what do you think of Chloe’s sneakers? I think we should all get some.”

Chloe brought Whitey to a halt at the crest of the ridge. Carole, Max, and Lisa brought their horses up beside hers. “Oh, good,” Lisa said. “It’ll all be downhill from here.”

“Real downhill,” Carole said. “Look.”

Chloe said, “The horses will have to slide.”

Lisa looked. “Oh, Max, I can’t do that,” she said. The ground dropped away in front of Prancer’s feet, smooth and incredibly steep.

“Of course you can,” Max said. “It’s only steep for a little bit. See that marker?” He pointed at some orange
tape tied to a tree near the bottom of the slope. “The trail turns there and goes into the woods. Just ride absolutely straight downhill, girls. That way, if your horses slip, they can regain their feet, and they won’t roll sideways and crush you. Give them all the rein they need, and trust them. They’ll do fine.”

“Like this,” Chloe said. She clucked to Whitey, and they started down the steep slope. Chloe let the reins run through her fingers and sat far back in the saddle. Whitey tucked his hindquarters underneath him, like a dog sitting down, and actually let his back feet slide down the slope. At the bottom, Chloe gave him a pat.

“Lisa, your turn,” Max said.

Lisa froze.

“Trust Prancer,” Max said. “Trust yourself.”

Lisa gulped but clucked to Prancer. Trusting herself—trusting her abilities—was something she worked on with her therapist.
I don’t think Susan ever saw a horse slide
, she thought. She wanted to shut her eyes. But she did trust Prancer, and Max, and herself, a little. She leaned back, felt Prancer slide—and was safely at the bottom next to Chloe.

“Good girl!” she praised Prancer.

“You did well,” Chloe told her. “Especially for your first slide.”

“Thanks.” Lisa turned away. Why did Chloe have to know everything?

Carole and then Max came down the slope. As they rode back into the woods, Lisa saw a funny blackish cloud hanging in the air down the trail in front of them. “Oh, yuck,” Chloe said. She began to dig around in one of her bags. “Gnats. Here.” She slapped some lotion on her arms, then passed it to the other riders.

“Gnats just fly around,” Carole said. “Don’t they?”

“These bite,” Chloe informed them. She rode ahead stoically.

“The bug spray stinks,” Lisa said a few minutes later.

“Yeah,” Carole agreed, slapping her arms. “It bothers us, but I don’t think the gnats mind it at all.”

Prancer shook her head against the gnats. Lisa smacked her chin and killed three of them. The thought of dead gnats on her face made her feel sick. She wished fervently that they would come to another river. It might wash away the gnats, and, this time, bug spray and Easy Boots or not, she’d leave know-it-all Chloe and her wonder horse on the other side.

S
TEVIE LET
B
ELLE
have a longer rein. They had taken a slower pace ever since the first vet check, and Stevie was really enjoying the ride. They’d walked up the rocky part
and slid down the slide—which had seemed scary to Stevie but hadn’t seemed to bother Belle. The gnats in the woods had been annoying, but they were finally past them, and in the woods it was cooler than it had been in the open sun. Now they were trotting slowly but steadily, and it felt as if Belle could trot forever.

Best of all, Stevie was really enjoying riding with Phil and Mr. Baker. Since the check, Phil had quit making rude comments and was back to being his usual funny, talkative self. Mr. Baker was surprisingly funny as well. Stevie had two new knock-knock and six grape jokes to add to her repertoire.

“Have you heard the one about the foal with laryngitis?” Mr. Baker asked.

“I’m not sure …,” Stevie said.

“I have,” Phil answered. “He was just a little hoarse.”

Stevie groaned appreciatively. “I’ll have to save that one for Carole’s father.”

“Carole might even like that one,” Phil said.

“Maybe. Her dad’s the one with the weird sense of humor.”

“You consider that weird?” Mr. Baker asked. “How about, What’s purple and stuffed with sage dressing?”

“Tell us,” Stevie said.

“The Thanksgiving grape.”

Stevie snorted appreciatively.

They rode on through the peaceful woods. After a while, however, Stevie began to worry. It was a little too peaceful. “Mr. Baker,” she said, “I’m not surprised we haven’t been seeing the riders in front of us, because we’re going more slowly. But why aren’t we seeing any riders behind us? Why isn’t anyone passing us?”

Mr. Baker looked concerned. “I was just starting to wonder about that myself. Have you see a trail marker lately?”

“A trail marker? No—but we have to be on the trail. It’s as clear as daylight.” They were able to ride three abreast along the path. “This must be right,” Stevie said.

Phil’s smile faded. “I haven’t been looking for trail markers, either,” he said. “I guess I just assumed we were right.”

“Me too,” Mr. Baker admitted. “But now I’m not so sure. We should have seen someone in the last few miles. And by now we should be getting close to the second vet check.”

They rode on, looking closely now for the orange tape tied to the trees. Usually the trail was only marked every hundred yards or so; as Chloe had told them at the start, when you’re marking fifty miles of trail, you can’t leave a ribbon every six feet. Only where the trail turned or was hard to follow was it marked closely.

“We should have seen something by now,” Stevie said at last. “Do you think we’re lost?”

“Maybe,” said Mr. Baker. “But I’ve also heard of markers being taken down before, by hikers who mistook them for litter. Let’s go on a bit yet. This still seems awfully clear-cut not to be the real trail.”

Finally Phil pointed and said, “Look! There’s something!” A piece of pink tape fluttered from a branch.

“It’s the wrong color,” Stevie objected.

“Maybe they ran out of orange.”

“And it’s on the wrong side of the trail,” Mr. Baker said. “All the markers are supposed to be to the right.”

“Maybe we’re going in the wrong direction,” Stevie said. She felt confused and a little frightened. Could they have made a circle somehow? Could they really be lost?

“Don’t worry,” Mr. Baker soothed her. “No matter what, we can go back the way we came. We’ll find our way out. But let’s go a little farther. Maybe the pink tape was an actual marker.”

“Oh no,” Phil said. “Look ahead.” They rode cautiously forward. Their wide trail ended suddenly at what looked like a sheer cliff face. Mr. Baker dismounted and leaned over the edge.

“It’s a climbing face,” he said. “You can see where rock
climbers have set pitons. We’re on a hiking trail for humans.”

“We’re lost,” Stevie said.

“No, we’re not. We’ll go back the way we came and be more careful this time.” Mr. Baker remounted, and they headed back, trotting quickly but not saying a word. All of them scanned the left side of the trail for orange ribbons.

It seemed like they went several miles before they found one. All of a sudden, a cluster of orange ribbons marked the spot where they should have made a sharp turn to a smaller trail.

“Wow,” Stevie said. “How could we have missed that?” She knew what had happened. They’d been having such a fun ride that they had forgotten to be careful.

Mr. Baker shook his head. “All of us should have been paying better attention. But we’re on the right path now.”

Stevie led the way down the narrower path until suddenly she heard Phil make an anxious squawk. She turned Belle quickly. Phil looked at her with a panicked expression. “Stevie!” he said. “Something’s wrong with Teddy!”

“H
E LOOKS OKAY
,” Stevie said. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

“He’s not okay,” Phil insisted. “He’s moving funny. Look at him.” Mr. Baker rode his horse up to Teddy’s side. Stevie held Belle still. Phil walked Teddy a few steps forward. “See? His back end isn’t moving right.”

“He looks a little stiff,” Stevie said. “Not too bad, though.”

“It just started happening,” Phil said. His voice rose, sounding scared.

Mr. Baker dismounted. “His muscles are probably cramping,” he said. “Like a runner getting leg cramps. He’s
sweated so much, he’s probably lost too much salt. Let’s see how dehydrated he is.”

“Poor Teddy!” Stevie said as she and Phil dismounted quickly. She held on to Belle and Dominic while Mr. Baker helped Phil check his horse for signs of dehydration. They looked in his mouth and pulled up on his skin to see if it was getting stiff.

“He’s really not too bad,” Mr. Baker said comfortingly. “He’s not showing any signs of major dehydration. We need to get him some salt and some more water, but I think he’s going to be fine, Phil. This isn’t too serious. The next vet check should be coming up pretty soon.”

“If we hadn’t gotten lost …” Phil bit his lip.

“We’d be there already, and Teddy wouldn’t be cramping.” Mr. Baker looked sorry. “I know.”

“All of us are at fault,” Stevie said.

“I know,” Phil said, his voice unsteady. “But only my horse is in trouble. I’ve been a little worried ever since the last check.”

“Did he feel stiff then?” Mr. Baker’s voice was suddenly sharp with concern.

“No. No! I wouldn’t have kept going. But when the vet took so long to pass him—oh, poor Teddy. I should have gotten you in better shape. I shouldn’t have done this to you.” Phil patted Teddy’s neck apologetically.

“Better keep him moving,” Mr. Baker advised gently. “He’ll feel better, and we’ll get to the check sooner. Don’t worry, Phil. He’ll be okay.”

Phil ran his stirrups up on their leathers and loosened his girth. It took Stevie a moment to realize that Phil wasn’t going to ride any farther. He was going to lead Teddy so that he wouldn’t stress the horse any more.

“I guess endurance rides aren’t that easy,” Phil said as they all started moving at an even slower walk. “I should have known better, Mr. Baker. When you and Max get serious about something, there’s usually a good reason.”

“Don’t take all the blame yourself,” Mr. Baker said. “It’s not all your fault, and besides, you couldn’t have known this would happen.”

If we hadn’t gotten lost
, Stevie reflected,
if we hadn’t told so many grape jokes, we might have been paying more attention to the trail. Then we would have gotten to the check sooner, and Teddy wouldn’t be suffering
. It seemed like a high price to pay for a couple of grape jokes.

Soon they heard the sound of a horse trotting behind them. They’d gone so long without hearing that noise that it was more than welcome. Stevie turned her head to look and saw a woman, dressed like Chloe, riding a black Arabian horse. “Whoa,” she said in surprise when she saw Teddy’s empty saddle and Phil walking. “What’s wrong?”

Briefly they explained Teddy’s problem.

“I can help a little bit,” the woman said, swinging off her horse. “I’ve got a salt packet.…” She dug around in a bag that was fastened to her cantle. “Here it is. And I’ve got some drinking water left.” She opened the lid of a water bottle hanging from her backpack and poured the envelope of salts into it. She shook the bottle, then squirted some of it into Teddy’s mouth. Teddy backed away in surprise.

“Hold his head,” the woman instructed. Aiming carefully, she squirted the rest of the water into the back corners of Teddy’s mouth. The horse had no choice but to swallow. “There. That should help a little. Don’t panic—I’ve done this ride three times, and we’re less than a mile to the check. Do you want me to stay with you?”

“I think we’ll be okay,” Mr. Baker told her.

“Thanks so much,” Phil called after her as she rode away.

“The people on this ride have been really friendly,” Stevie commented.

Mr. Baker nodded. “Yes, but no good rider ever ignores a horse in distress.”

L
ISA RODE INTO
the second vet check with only one thought on her mind: soda. She had a can of it zipped into
her fanny pack, where it had been bouncing against her hips all day long and driving her crazy. Chloe and her quest for trotting had kept Lisa from stopping to drink. Now she was so thirsty that if she didn’t drink her soda in the next thirty seconds she was going to die a shriveled-up human raisin. She felt like a living mummy.

“Lisa!” Jasmine, May, and Corey swarmed around Prancer. “We’ll take her, Lisa,” May offered as Lisa dismounted. Lisa saw that they had hay and water buckets waiting. Deborah was talking to Max, and Mrs. Reg was helping Carole. Chloe’s parents were next to Mrs. Reg.

“Thanks,” Lisa said gratefully. “I’ll be just one second.”

She unzipped the fanny pack and pulled out the can. The soda was warm—no, hot—from the afternoon sun, but Lisa didn’t care. Right now, even boiling-hot soda sounded like nectar from heaven.

Lisa opened the can. The hot, shaken soda sprayed out like lava from a volcanic eruption. The first vicious, bubbling stream caught Lisa in the face. She shrieked and held the can away—and soaked the Pony Tails, Prancer, Mrs. Reg, and two of the other competitors. Corey and Jasmine screamed and ran. May, holding Prancer’s reins, ducked to Prancer’s far side. The competitors and Mrs. Reg scattered. Only Prancer seemed totally oblivious. She munched her hay with a tranquil expression.