Best moments in the saddle

[hidepounder]

It wasnt my best moment but it was sure the funniest thing ever. My girlfriend (6', blonde hair and blue eyed) and I were riding home on a dusty, winding back country road. It was a stinking hot day and my friend decided to put her bikini top on. "Here" she said "can you take Blackies reins". After a bit of fumbling she got out the bikini top and laid it out on the pommel of her saddle. "Can you hear any cars coming"? I strained my ears ....... "No". After more struggling her bra appeared from the sleeve of her shirt and was put away. "Are you sure there's no cars coming"? "Cant hear any". Vroooooooooop off came her T shirt just as a car load of youths appeared round the corner directly in front of us.

The rest of our ride was completed in stoney silence and I spent many months trying to convince my friend that I hadnt heard any vehicles approaching. I still wonder what the conversation in the car was like on the rest of their ride - the day they saw Lady Godiva.

Cheers

DJ

[tashabear]

My best day recently was riding as Moto Safety Crew for the American Diabetes Association's Tour de Cure in North Haven, CT (and neighboring towns). My job, along with my crew mates, was to sweep the course, making sure that the bicycle riders were safe and responding to any crashes that might occur.

It was pouring rain when I left my friend's house that morning (she hosted me the night before, as it's a 3 hour trip to the college in North Haven where the Tour was starting, and I had to report at 0630). I was dressed and out of the house by 5:30, and walked out onto the porch to a relatively light but persistent rain. I'd checked the weather before I packed everything up, and we were on the leading edge of a decently large weather system. I figured it'd take about three hours to pass, and as it turns out, I was right. I took a few minutes on the porch to put on my rain gear (the pants are getting trashed soon; I burnt holes in both legs on my exhaust pipes) and once I'd mounted my bag on the sissy bar, to put the rain cover on.

Finding Gateway Community College (the start point) wasn't that big a deal; the directions from Google Maps were good and there were signs. The highway was scary, though. My visor kept fogging up, so I had to leave it cracked open a bit, which was loud and wet, and at one point I got passed by a semi, which threw spray in my face and made it almost impossible to see. I faked it, more or less, and got to the school fairly early. I wasn't first, but I was there before the team chief, wringing out my gloves. :-D

We ended up starting late. Shocker. The "century" riders, those riding 100 miles, were supposed to leave at 6:30, and didn't leave till 7:20. I was tasked, along with my teammate Joanna, to sweep the 100K route, which was mostly the same as the 100 miles till the end. The rain let up and the sky was blue by 8, so we shucked our rain gear and had a great time.

This was WAY different than the Avon Walk for Breast cancer (I crew that, too). It was much smaller, more spread out, and much lower key. It seemed like less of a gestalt mentality and more of an individual one. We didn't get as much interaction with the participants as we do on the walk, but they were busy and working hard. Mostly what we did was sweep the route and respond to any emergencies that the riders might have as they go. There were a few issues that other folks caught, but I didn't really see much.

The riding was spectacular. The route was gorgeous, the weather turned out amazing, and while I had a job to do, it was mostly just riding all day long. I only wish that my husband could have been there with me; he would have loved it. (My other motorcycling buddies would have loved it, too, but he's my favorite.) The grin inside my helmet was a big as it's ever been, and given that I've only been riding for not quite two years, I was pretty proud of myself for doing this ride by myself.

We didn't get back to the college till about 4pm. We did the last 25 miles with a sweep car, and while I'd ridden those roads before, I swear they got bumpier. This assessment is entirely due to the fact that I needed to pee like a racehorse. The team leader wanted to wait for the last few riders to come in, but after I'd taken care of business, I just couldn't hang anymore. I took off, grabbed some gas and then some food at McDonald's (up till that point, my day's food intake consisted of a bagel, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a cider doughnut from Lyman Orchard that was delicious, and a Clif Bar), and headed for home.

There was no Zen on the ride home. I'd already done maybe 150, 200 miles going around the course, and faced another 145 miles to get home. I pretty much did it in two legs. I stopped at a roadside rest stop near the CT/MA border to stretch my legs, because my knees were killing me. I just took off my helmet and sat it on the tank, and just rested on it, stretching out my knees and rotating my ankles to try to relieve the pain enough to continue on.

I stopped at the Charlton rest stop once I got on the Mass Pike, and got some water, Motrin, and a slice of cake. The Motrin didn't really help, but the cake seemed to. Charlton is almost exactly 75 miles from North Haven, CT, so I gassed up and made the run for home. I stopped one last time at the rest stop in Westford to put on a sweatshirt, and then made the last dash for home.

Rides like that are not necessarily transcendent moments. I have to be alert, watching for route markers, traffic, the riders I'm protecting. At the end of the day, everything hurts from the waist down, and sometimes my shoulder's not real happy, either. But I kept all those balls in the air, and I did it with grace. I did a job that other people might not want to do, and the best part is, they don't realize how much fun I had doing it, so they keep letting me come back.

[Echo4V]

David

[Shorts]

Click the link, have patience through my bad video editing and the good part starts about 3:12. That feeling of euphoria on that particular stretch of road is just absolutely beautiful. The descent from the summit with the broad sweeping curves just pulls at me as I sit here. And I think about it often when I just feel like flying.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pasNQlSZba0

Those who get motion sick you've been warned

Keep the rubber side down

[Kani]

My best ride is every time I am in the saddle. Gathering cattle with me, my horse, and God.

Justin

Well said Justin.

Josh slip a camera in your saddle bag. Have it ready for the next time. That had to be an awesome scene.

[Butch]

My best time in the saddle was long ago. I started as a Horse Wrangler for Babbitt Ranches at Cedar Ranch for Bill Howell. From there I spent my time as a Cowpuncher at Pine Flats for Marion Perkins, Cowden Ranch for Marshall Hartman and the best job I've ever had in my life at Ft Rock Ranch for Jimmy Yarborough. All these ranches were in Northern Arizona. I regret quitting as a Cowpuncher, but no reason to look back now. Another reason I want to get to our property in Texas and live the life again.

[jbird]

Well I regret not having a camera with me it was a heavnly scene and as I sat there I thought it dosent get better then this.

Great storys all very interesting.

Josh

Edited July 21, 2009 by jbird

[Kani]

I would tell friends of the beautiful things I had seen on horseback. They finally got enough of it and told me to take a camera. They wanted to see those scenes too. Now I usually have a camera with me. With digital camera's (not the expensive ones) you can pick and choose the pics you like and get rid of the ones you don't. Heck even the throw aways are good cameras for something like that.

One time we was riding and right off to the left of us was this buck deer. Beautiful. He just stood there and watched us. Things like that are heaven to me. I love riding my horse away from civilization. Out in the woods just me, my horse and all of God's creation. So relaxing.

[bruce johnson]

I had a colt buck around with me, felt the "pop" and figured I had pulled my groin again. You do it once and it is never the same. Got him stopped and grabbed the fence and let him walk out from under me. When I went to take a step I felt the bones shift there in the middle and knew it was kind of a bad deal. I had broken my pelvis still in the saddle kind of like Don Butler did. It took a while to heal up, and I went back to starting some colts, but never had that "spark" to push one. About a year later I had one long trotting out on a levee by a rice field. A pheasant flew up, colt grabbed his ---, and I made about 3 jumps - each one a little looser. I hit the ground like a sack of rocks. When I got some air, got up, and could walk, I felt like King Kong. Nothing broke, and the confidence was back.

[jbird]

Wow

some great stories I think this has been a good thread.

Josh