Vanessa aboard Imdaleah at a 50-mile endurance race in 2002. It was time to learn from the journey. Ben and Vanessa decided that it was time to forgo the intensity of the endurance racing circuit and embrace the more relaxing life of recreational trail riding.

Spring was fast approaching and our tack box needed a good cleaning. Vanessa and I are coming off a year of readjusting our confidence after our riding accidents. We needed to see what we had to buy to begin a fresh season of trail riding.

When we reached into the morass of equipment and horse supplies, we pulled out — among other items — a stethoscope, two equine heart monitors with an extra transmitter, a plastic zipper-lock bag of electrolytes, and a rather large plastic syringe. It was everything needed; but for a season of endurance racing, not pleasure riding.

In the bottom of the tack box was an old red award ribbon that was faded, the gold print barely revealed the year. On the reverse, Vanessa had penciled in the name of the ride. I asked her why she never hung it in her office with the hundreds of others she won.

She looked at it for a moment. “You know, Ben, I honestly can’t remember this ride or even where it was!” She laughed and placed it on the table with the rest of the paraphernalia, and we finished our cleanout.

Since the 1980s, the sport of endurance racing had defined Vanessa’s equine career. I got involved in the mid-1990s and quickly found that it was not a relaxing situation. The day of a competition began at 4 a.m. The horses needed to be fed and electrolyted with adequate time for beginning a ride at daybreak! No time for anything but a cup of coffee and a protein bar. The day could be really long for both the rider and crew no matter whether it was a tenuous 100-mile ride or a four-hour 50-mile race.

The evening after the event left little time for socializing; we were normally pooped from the competition, and we needed to get packed to leave the next morning. Sometimes, we had to get on the road and didn’t even have time to attend the award ceremonies. It was fun, but it wore on us.

After our accidents in September of 2003, we’d pretty much decided that we should leave the racing circuit to the competitive set. Now, we were ready to make the change to leisure trail riding.

We’d been preparing ourselves and our trailer over time for this eventuality, too. When we outfitted the living quarters of our Adam three-horse aluminum slant-load, we gave ourselves a roomy nine-foot short wall, and included an oven, not just a stovetop. We decided that we like scones with our morning coffee and baked potatoes with our grilled steak. We prefer to consider it a discerning taste in our maturing years and not just a luxury.

When it came time to order a 2005 truck this year, our priorities emerged again. Instead of a stripped-down tow vehicle like the Ford F250 that Van purchased in 1991, we chose a top-of-the-line F350 diesel 4x4 Extend Cab with Tow Command and power sliding rear window. Of course, we ordered the Lariat package for comfort. I like the leather seats and kickin’ stereo.  

That night at dinner, the subject of our years of highway travel came up again. We started to lament that with all the places we’ve traveled across the USA, we really didn’t get a chance to see many of the places we visited. We were so busy doing the endurance event, we couldn’t enjoy the location. I likened it to Willie Nelson or truck drivers who log thousand of miles but see only concert halls or interstate scenery.

Before we had our coffee and dessert finished, I asserted what we both were thinking. “We have a new truck. The trailer is ready. Let’s plan a real trail-riding adventure this summer, no endurance racing, no competitions; just me, you and the horses.”

“And America,” Vanessa added.

We pulled out the atlas and decided on a trip from our farm in the Finger Lakes Region in upstate New York to the Grand Teton Mountains in Wyoming with a stop near Yellowstone National Park. Our route will be the Interstate 80-90 loop through South Dakota and Nebraska. It would take us through an area we’d never been before. We blocked out the first 18 days of July for our trip.

We decided that we won’t spend more than a day at a time on the road. Our stops will be at least a day, maybe two, depending on how we feel and what the riding is like. I want to visit the general stores and talk to the people, look for hay and grain at the local feed stores, and smell the air. Maybe we’ll even get a flat tire.

So, over the next several weeks, we’ll go shopping and replenish our tack box with trail-riding supplies and equip the trailer for our adventure. But that won’t be enough. We need to take a fresh approach to our travel plans. After all, the trip won’t be for competition but for pleasure. 

We must keep in mind that this adventure isn’t so much about the destination, but the journey; a personal journey with horses across America. We’re looking forward to getting away together — laughing and coping with whatever fate presents us, experiencing the USA in a way we haven’t done in the past as a couple of friends with their steeds enjoying the scenery and people while looking out for each other and learning from our experiences.

Many trail riders who share in The Trail Rider relate stories of their destinations, people they meet, and spectacular places they ride their horses. I enjoy those tales. But over the next several issues, I plan to relate the lessons we learn during our journey on the trail this summer. Stay tuned.