Mudageddon BadEventer becomes a Tough Mudder – Part 1

When I finished my first 100 mile endurance ride it was in the very worst of conditions. I was completely prepared on a rockstar endurance horse. We had done a dozen 50s and a 75 mile ride, all finishing in the top of the pack. We had done our homework.

My goal for the 100 miler was to finish the ride before dark. The last thing I wanted to do was spend the night trying to find trail in the dark, watching bouncing headlamps & getting motion sick.

The first 50 miles went beautifully and we finished the first 1/2 of the ride in about 5 hours. This put us well on track to finish before dark.

Then……. it started raining.

Pouring actually.

We couldn’t see the trail markers, the trail became a swamp, and we slowed to a crawl.

Then it got cold

and then even colder………

We missed dozens of turns and splashed through muck for miles. My horse pulled a shoe and I vividly remember straightening it on someone’s truck bumper and nailing it back on in the rain.

We were soaked and cold and lost.

When we realized for the 10th time we had missed a turn and were double backing in the rain we started losing our determination.

We couldn’t feel our hands, feet or faces. We had run out of provisions. And survival started becoming a real concern.

There was one point when we realized that we’d missed a turn, AGAIN, and one of our little group became so cold and tired she started falling from her horse. She couldn’t move her arms and started listing to one side yelling, “help I’m falling off! I can’t move my arms! Help!”

In the telling it’s almost funny, but it sure wasn’t at 4:00AM in a 35 degree rain after being cold and lost for hours.

Two of us rode up on either side of her. Another rider jumped off his horse and grabbed the reins of her horse while pushing her back in the saddle,

She collapsed onto her horse’s neck, started sobbing and then wailed, “We are all going to die out here in the rain!”

We had all been thinking exactly that but no one had said it out loud…….until then.

We were riding along the edge of a field with a large irrigation system towering ghostly above the horses. The water was over ankle deep as the down pour had been relentless. I looked around and there was a small shed with a tiny security light in the far off distance. But there was no road or houses to be seen. This was long before cell phones and I wondered just how we’d get help if she couldn’t go on. We didn’t even know where the trail was. No one knew how to reach help and if she couldn’t ride we’d have to leave someone with her while others went for help. Our little band of 100 mile endurance riders was losing our determination quickly.

After a few minutes of sobbing she finally asked if someone had a granola bar. I reluctantly handed her the 1/2 granola bar I had been hoarding thinking it might be my last meal and she came back to life. We finally found the trail again & headed off more determined than ever to finish this insane death march.

I have never been so wet & so cold for soooo long in all my life.

A delirious hypothermic little band of endurance riders splashed across the finish in 23 1/2 hours, just barely under the 24 hour time limit. The horses all acted like they were ready to do it again. The riders were not so enthusiastic.

After riding my horse 100 miles in the dark….

in freezing rain…..

nothing in my life seemed difficult.

When things got a little tough I would find my strength by remembering just how much pain & suffering I can endure.

I looked at doing a Tough Mudder in the same way.

If I could manage 12 muddy miles with 20+ seemingly impossible obstacles while being wet & muddy it would be life affirming. Other challenges would seem less daunting.