Hello, my name is Khaleesi. I have an amazing tale to tell; it’s a bit lengthy, but so was 100 miles in 1 Day.
My human Momma, aka, Juju, and I are best friends. She actually pulled me into this world when I was being born and has never let me forget it.
My sire was an Arabian named Tar Pistol Pete, my dam an American Paint Horse named Sixes Peppy Lady, aka, Kookie. I never met my sire, but I am told he was a wonderful endurance horse who did “The Tevis Cup” several times. I look just like him except for my big butt. I was told Juju picked out my sire because her goal was someday riding me in “The Tevis Cup.” Juju wanted the endurance gene to mix with my dam’s excellent conformation and rock-solid disposition. I’m fortunate to still live with my dam, even though I am 10 years old.
Apparently, instant gratification was not part of Juju’s 12-year plan. Thus “Some Kind of a Nut.”
We had a bit of a setback when I was 6 years old and injured myself during a Competitive Trail Ride. At a vet check, the vet noticed I wasn’t moving correctly and was concerned I might have suspensory ligament problems. Both front legs hurt a little when I went downhill, but I tried not to let anyone notice because I just loved racing along, only stopping to perform obstacles which I was really good at because I am a bit of a “Show Off.”
To make a long story short, Juju gave me 2 years off. She didn’t ride me, and I became very depressed. I knew Juju would never be able to fulfill her Tevis dream. I would be unable to do what I was born to do, and I felt worthless. Then one day about 3 years ago, she started riding me again. We started slow, only a few miles each day, always where it was mostly flat; my depression seemed to lift each time we went for a ride. Working in the arena sucked but the joy in my trot was coming back, whenever we went for a trail ride. I wanted to go further and faster, but Juju insisted we take short rides that were way, way, way too slow for me.
In the fall, a few years back, we picked up our riding buddies, my cute little Icelandic friend named Alf and his wonderful rider named Brandy. We began to ride together, it seemed like about once a week for almost 2 years. Alf was so dang cute, and he moved downhill so swiftly. He was like a rolling stone, and I was always trotting to try and keep up. Going uphill, I was the engine, he tucked in right behind me, and away we went. The 4 of us conditioned riding hundreds of miles together with the goal of riding Tevis together. There was never “penned ears” between the 2 of us; Alf was my 2nd best friend.
Tevis 2023 was our goal. Apparently, the weather had been wicked last winter in the Sierra Nevada Mountain Range where the race begins, and crossing the river at the ride’s end was also impossible this year. The start was switched to Soda Spring instead of Robie Park. The last section would be 10 miles longer. Oh well, what the hell, we didn’t really know any better.
We spent 2 nights traveling to Auburn, California, from Cedaredge. The first night’s stop was at a nice place with 3 big black Clydesdales, a white donkey, pinto-colored goats, and a few chickens. Alf and I didn’t sleep a wink and hardly ate because these TALL, WEIRD LOOKING CREATURES were just across the road. Neither of us had ever seen these odd-looking, 2-legged, big, dark gray, plump bodies with these long, long, long necks, maybe a beak, maybe 2 eyes. We weren’t sure because they were hidden in the trees and moved really weirdly. Brandy and Juju couldn’t figure out why we were so nervous; that morning, Brandy saw one of the creatures move and said they were ostriches. Alf and I never heard of them before. They were very scary!!!!
2nd night was the Fairgrounds in Winnemucca, beside I-80, a very active railroad track, a detention center, and a parking lot for the 24-hour gold mining crews. It was noisy, but it was a piece of cake after the ostrich nightmare.
Arriving in Auburn, California, at the Fairgrounds the next day was lovely. We had nice big stalls. It smelled a bit like maybe a cow had used the stall before me. Our big red barn was in the trees with other horses around. Alf and I shared hay and a variety of salt blocks, we were living the dream. Two days of peace, well, except for the clanking, screeching, honking horrible train that passed numerous times during the light and dark.
We were back in the trailer on Friday morning, headed back up the mountain to Soda Springs; what a zoo! We were camped in a rock-hard parking lot, crammed together, horses and humans everywhere. Our human’s kept saying something about “sardines”?
Alf and I were presented to the Vet judges that afternoon, and we aced it. Alf drew much more of a crowd than I did because he is so unique and so dang cute. A few humans thought I was beautiful and took pictures of me too.
July 29, 2023, was the Tevis Cup, the event I was born and bred for. We had been preparing for, conditioning for, and I never felt better in my whole life. Us horses were the perfect age, and so was Brandy; momma Juju, well, she was well past her prime at 70. Once again, “Some Kind of a Nut.”
We had done our homework, and we were ready for the challenge. The Tevis Cup is 100 miles in 1 Day!!!!! We were going to ride for nearly 24 hours straight. Hope Juju can stay awake.
The saddles were out and loaded with all our treats the night before. Alf and I both needed to get some rest; thankfully, the camp went silent early. Then the energy changed at about 3:30 in the morning, and the fun was about to begin. We were saddled in the dark, Brandy and Juju were very nervous, and I could actually taste the excitement. We were led over to the end of the parking lot, but I couldn’t make myself stand still so Juju could get on. Back to the trailers so both riders could mount. Trotting across the bridge, Brandy shouted out 89; Juju shouted out 90. The TEVIS CUP had begun.
We were trotting down a paved road, and Juju kept trying to get me to stay in the dirt on the side of the road, but since it was dark, I could see a little clearer on the pavement, so we did a bit of both for the first few miles. I thought we were supposed to walk for the first 2 miles before we got to the official start. Oh well, most of the horses were now in front of us, but our goal was to finish, not to be the first ones across the finish line.
We thought this was a trail ride, but the first 14 miles seemed like a road race. More than a two-track, almost a two-lane road with recently repaired sections containing large pieces of gravel, we had to keep slowing down to walk over. The air was brisk, and the speed was exhilarating. Alf and I were enjoying ourselves, and those two crazy humans on our backs were having the time of their lives.
The first stop for water was at Lyon’s Ridge, about 14.5 miles, where a vet watched us just trot by. Alf and I must have passed as we trotted into camp, a short stop for a sip of water, then back down the road.
We finally hit a fantastic single track and we were moving smoothly through some beautiful, rugged county. We came around the corner, and there was Cougar Rock. No time to stop for the humans to shed jackets for a better photo opp; that would ruin our momentum. I briefly glanced at the epic, sheer rock climb, surrounded by numerous humans with cameras. I decided speed was the key to successfully negotiating the ride’s most technical, iconic section. I really had to use my big Quarter Horse BUTT to launch myself up the side of the cliff. Juju gabbed my mane with both hands, let go of the reins, got up out of the saddle and let me do all the heavy lifting. In our first big test, we worked together as a team and trusted each other to do our jobs. Alf must have made it too, because all the humans with the cameras cheered for us and rejoiced!
Apparently, Cougar Rock is a huge deal. Both riders were ecstatic at this point of the ride! This single-track trail was delightful, Alf and I took turns leading, all of us were having a ball and right on our schedule, doing things just like we had planned.
Then we hit Red Star Ridge, 21 miles, and our first vet check, they called it a “Gate and Go.” Volunteers started running up to me, then they saw Alf, and everyone ran towards him. Alf was so cute everyone wanted to touch him and help them.
Apparently, I was a common Arabian, a breed all the volunteers were used to seeing. Juju requested someone pour water on me, give me a drink, and a volunteer gave me some mash. I wanted hay; the mash tasted sour. Then someone was taking my heart rate and said 58. That meant we had to go to the vet next. All the volunteers were still mobbing Alf, and we thought he had pulsed down too. I was “good to go” with all A’s at the vet check, “whatever that means.” They wanted us to move down the line where there was more hay for me, but Juju made me wait for Alf, but I was hungry. Alf cleared the vet check, we both got a bit of hay, humans remounted, and off down the trail we went, still on time with where we planned to be. Both humans were Happy! Happy! Happy! Now onto Robinson Flat, where we would get to eat and rest for an hour.
Brandy and Juju sang when we rode into Robinson Flat for the one-hour hold. We were greeted by familiar folk this time. Betty, Wende, Eric, and Sharon gave us a drink, sponged water on us, off came the saddles and someone took our pulse. I was hungry and didn’t care if it was mash or hay. I needed food. Headed up to the vet while Wende was still feeding me hay. I did great! Alf followed and was again overwhelmed by all the volunteers wanting to make over him.
Bandy and Juju set in the shade, ate delicious sandwiches and fruit that Rich & Betty had prepared. Sharon cleaned our saddle and tack, Wende held on to me and Alf, while Juju switched to a cooler shirt. Eric was saying something about 10 minutes left, and the saddles came back on. Oh good, I’m in my rope halter, I will be less itchy and sweaty. Wow, that hour went by quickly, and we were off again.
Down another hard-packed road, we had to stop several times to let cars go by and motorcycles. Hmm, I thought this area was supposed to be closed to just Tevis horses. We were on this road for 8 miles, and our humans complained loudly. Finally, some water troughs and a sign, “Pucker Point” entrance. Then in about another mile, more water, more humans, all making over Alf and the 2nd Pucker Point entrance. We didn’t stay long because we had had water just a few minutes ago, but Juju asked for water and someone to dunk her vest in the water tank because it was getting hot! Volunteers had lots of questions for Brandy, and Juju said something about, “Come On, Chatty Cathy, we have to keep moving.”
Pucker Point was extremely uneventful. The humans were arguing if we had even passed it. Momma insisted it was that tiny outcropping we had already passed. Apparently, the photos of Pucker Point made the area look much more terrifying than any of us thought. Guess we trained in some pretty ruff county in the Dominguez Wilderness that made Pucker Point “No Big Deal.”
Five more miles and we were at Last Chance vet check, again Alf was mobbed by volunteers, and we had to ask for help, which someone always willingly did. I passed through the vet check quickly. The vet advised Brandy to let us eat a bit of hay before we left because the next section was very difficult, the area where horses really struggle. We snatched a few more bites of hay.
As we headed to the bottom of the steep canyon with tons of switchbacks, Brandy mentioned that Alf was shaking. I had to get in front, which was very unusual. Alf was back in front as we crossed the creek, but he just wasn’t himself. We started uphill, headed for Devil’s Thumb, which is one of the steepest areas of the ride. Alf was shaking so badly that Brandy got off and had to lead him up. We would stop at every other switchback, thankfully in the shade, and wait for them to catch up. It was painful to watch. They were both struggling. The 2 hours we were ahead of “Cut Off Time”at Last Chance was slipping away quickly. Finally, we reached the Devil’s Thumb water stop. Everyone surrounded Alf. I found some mash to eat and water to drink. Juju had to get her own water and ask someone to hold me so she could pee. We had to keep moving. Juju encouraged Brandy to move forward; we only had a mile and a half to the next vet check. If we didn’t keep moving, we would be out of time, and then it wouldn’t matter what the vets said. Brandy wanted us to go on ahead, but Juju said we couldn’t until we knew if Alf had a trailer to get him out. I might have to pony him into Foresthill, but Brandy couldn’t walk the 3500-foot evaluation change that was ahead of us. Things looked really bleak as we left that water stop, with Brandy walking and feeding Alf some hay as we walked down the trail.
Deadwood Vet check; Alf was mobbed, and we were pretty much left alone. I pulsed down immediately because we were not traveling very fast, and Alf also did. I’m through the vet check with all A’s, but there was a big discussion about Alf.
He passed the vet check, but Brandy knew he was not right. The vet couldn’t pull him; it had to be a rider option. Brandy asked Juju her opinion. Momma answered, “As much as it breaks my heart to say this, Alf is not himself. A 3500-foot elevation change before Michigan Bluff, the most difficult section, is still ahead. There were horse trailers here and a way to get him out. Pulling him now was the right thing to do.” Brandy was being tortured by the input from volunteers and vets encouraging her to keep going. Brandy knew that was not being fair to Alf. She took the Rider Option to Pull for the sake of Alf.
We headed out with my Juju crying all the way to Michigan Bluff. It was difficult for me to keep going as well without Alf. This was the hardest part of the 100 miles for me, I wasn’t tired, but my heart was heavy. My little buddy was not following along with his little nose up my big old butt! Momma’s sobbing was breaking my heart.
When we reached Michigan Bluff, 2 of the Western Colorado crew, Wende and Gwen, were there to greet us, encouraging us to keep moving. We could still do it, but we have to hurry. We were 18 minutes from “Cut Off” Time. More hills up to Chicken Hawk and a Vet Check, I MUST KEEP TROTTING.
We arrived at Chicken Hawk my pulse was 80, so they pulled my saddle. It quickly came down to 60. Over to the vet, I was great, except there was this old man vet who told my Momma how to hold the lead rope. REALLY, Juju knows how to make me stand still. I didn’t like it when she pulled my halter tight to please this old fart vet. Johnnie Jewel, Mom’s NATRC buddy, even rolled her eyes.
Johnnie told us to get behind a rider named Erin and an Australian guy and follow them into Foresthill. Erin knew how to get us there on time. Juju’s NATRC connection really, really, really helped get us to Foresthill. Oh man, those 2 in front of us moved swiftly, and we were eating their dust, and it was D_U_S_T_Y !!! It was thrilling, and I was able to keep up!
We arrived at Foresthill. My human Daddy Greg and our crew, Sharon, Wende, and Eric, greeted us. Keep moving, give me a drink, pull my saddle, give me something to eat, check my pulse, wait a few more minutes; 7:22 pm our time started, and onto the vet. I was fine. Now we had until 8:22 pm to eat and rest a bit. Juju said something about 23 minutes before the “Cut-Off “ Time.
3 new humans were making over me and telling me how beautiful I was. Then I noticed Juju hugging them, even though she was covered in dust and wet with sweat. They followed us to camp and kept petting me, talking to me, watching me eat, and taking photos of me.
These humans were Juju’s long-lost cousins who appeared delighted with all the craziness going on. Juju’s cousin Tom had run The Western States Endurance Run 3 times. Apparently, humans run on the same trails every year in June. Cousin Tom was the original “Some Kind of a Nut”, as he first ran this same 100 miles, for the first time, when he was 65. This crazy gene must run in the family!
I was happy to see my friend Alf at the trailer; he was eating and so glad to see me too. Juju jumped in the shower, changed her clothes, gobbled down a delicious rare steak, and took a few bites of salad. My friend Rich had prepared this meal for her and all our crew. Hopefully, Momma would stay awake. I know I ate as much as possible in that short hour.
Now Sharon and Wende are saddling me again. We must keep going. The sun is setting and we still have 40 miles to go. As we waited at the timer for the clock to strike at 8:22 pm, a young human walked up and told us her name was Lauren, LouAn Lundberg’s granddaughter. A drag rider shouted that she was LouAn’s daughter, Cheryl, and LouAn was praying for us. Mom started singing, “It’s a Small World, After All”. Apparently, LouAn was a member of the Women’s Surface Creek Saddle Club for years and knew we were riding Tevis. More prayers, good, we were going to need them.
Then off down the road, trotting in the twilight through the small town of Foresthill. There were still people out there to cheer us on! Momma thought my glow sticks were working, but no one had broken them. Oh well, I don’t need them to help me see in the dark.
We rode for the next 17 å alone under the full moon. I was in charge. I could see but humans, “Not so Much”. Happy they changed the rule this year so that no human can wear a headlamp with white light. That white light always blinds me for a bit; then I’m just as “trippy” as my Momma in the dark. Momma had a redhead lamp just in case but never used it.
My reins were loose, and I trotted along confidently as I could smell and feel where the other horses had gone. Juju needed the green glow sticks for insurance, but we were a team. I rather liked being totally in charge, and we were having the time of our lives. Yipee, for me, “ I WAS FINALLY THE BOSS”!
Down by the Middle Fork of the American River, everything felt MAGICAL! The air was cool, the moonlight glistened off the water, and I truly felt like we were ONE. ONE heartbeat, ONE Soul, ONE Body trotting together in complete and utter bliss. It’s a feeling neither of us had ever experienced. Juleesi, a melding of Juju and Khaleesi.
Our angels, spirit guides, relatives past and present, and friends sending us light and praying for us were genuinely helping. We were “O so happy”!
Juju’s devices had all gone dead. All she could check was the time on her GPS, and I think this added to the oneness. Her cell phone’s flashlight had switched ON and drained the battery. Did I mention, “I WAS COMPLETELY IN CHARGE”?
When we came into the Vet check at Franciso’s, the Vet asked Juju how it was riding all by herself in the dark? Momma replied to the big male vet, “It was truly MAGICAL. The experience of trusting your best friend 100% was the most wonderful feeling in the whole world!” Wow, Juju felt just like I did!!!! Then the vet said, “That was the best thing he had ever heard and thanked ME,” the horse!
Needless to say, I aced that vet check, all A’s again! There was also a nice young couple who helped water and feed me. The woman told me that her boyfriend said I was his favorite horse. He said I was so soft and sweet and liked me the best of all the horses he had seen that day! I know I could keep going after a compliment like that!
Shortly beyond that vet check, some arsehole was riding with a bright white light. Juju was irritated but didn’t say anything, we just got past them, and we kept trotting. (This human doesn’t trust his horse, still trying to manage their horse’s feet, good luck with that, jerk!)
Then Erin & the Aussie guy passed us. We followed them through the blinding light of the 2 highway crossing of Foresthill Road. The equipment out there was amazing, traffic was stopped, and the 6 of us felt totally safe crossing that highway.
We passed numerous horses as their riders were not trusting their horses in the dark and slowed their pace. A few had white headlamps and a few BRIGHT RED lights that were so bright they were just as blinding as the white lights. Some lady that talked oddly (Mom said she thought she was from Poland) sucked in behind us, and she had a white light that she couldn’t switch off and was cussing herself. Poor horse, we were both blinded for a bit. Now that funny-sounding woman was right behind us, her BRIGHT red light would blind my Mom every time she looked back. Finally, I think the woman hit a tree, more cussing, and we never saw her again.
As we proceeded to the Confluence Vet Check, heading down an extremely steep hill under a big Highway Bridge, that same arsehole with the white light appeared behind us again and quickly passed and blinded me. Juju asked him nicely to please turn the white lights off, and he ignored her! Then she used her BIG, LOUD, MEAN voice and shouted, “TURN THAT F-ING WHITE LIGHT OFF !!! UR BLINDING MY HORSE!” The light was shut off immediately. I chuckled to myself.
We hit the last vet check and lost track of Erin and the Aussie. The bright lights were causing me to blink and were blinding us. Still, we were having fun. I got a few bites of hay, wasn’t thirsty, pulsed down immediately, and headed to the vet. Dang nab it, we drew that old fart vet again. He grabbed my Momma’s hand and had her strangle me again. Come on, dude, she is riding me in a rope halter; I think I am easy to control. He gave me a few B’s, mostly A’s. If I could growl like my dog Lola, I would have. Then he gave my Momma a big hug, told her how proud he was of US, and said, “Keep going; you are going to make time and finish”!
We passed several horses at this vet check, then headed across No Hands Bridge, not sure what the big deal was about that bridge. It’s wide enough for two horses to cross side by side.
Now off into the dark with 4.5 miles left. We knew we had made it. Juju made me slow down. We let about six riders pass us. She said she didn’t want to push me any harder than necessary. We were going to make it. I felt good and decided to set my own pace and not let anyone else pass us. I was STILL IN CHARGE!
I made one wrong turn with about a mile left. Momma caught it right away and I had to back up about 10 steps and turn left. Guess I was getting a bit slap-happy too! Juju was wondering at this point if this race was ever going to Fing end.
We made it! We crossed the Timed Finish Line with Johnnie Jewel, Momma’s Texas NATRC friend, yelling at the top of her lungs, “WAY TO GO, JULEEN – YOU DID IT” – I’M SO PROUD OF YOU!” I took the “you” to mean me too since I had done nearly all the work! We had 29 minutes to spare!
Next, I saw my Daddy Greg, Wende, Sharon, and Eric all coming to congratulate us. Momma tried to jump off, but everyone told her to stay on. We had to take our VICTORY LAP at Mc Cann Stadium.
Wende held onto me, and we waited a few minutes at the stadium gate. Then it was my turn, Juju wanted me to gallop, but I had trotted all day and thought we should finish the way I had moved for the last 23 hours and 31 minutes. After all, I was STILL IN CHARGE, so we trotted!
We crossed the finish line. I could hear Brandy, Gwen, Betty, and especially Rich all cheering for us from the stands! WE DID IT. WE DID IT !!!! Everyone came over and hugged us or patted me on the butt.
Felt really good when Momma finally jumped off. It seemed like her knees might have buckled for a second. She looked a little off to me. As soon as she took a few steps, she didn’t look quite so LAME. Food (I was starving, alfalfa hay tastes wonderful), water, saddle came off, horses standing around with blankets covering them. Not me. I wasn’t hot or sweaty, just hungry. I just wanted to eat, eat, eat.
Momma and my crew headed over to the vet check line about ten minutes after crossing the finish line at McCann. Doctor Cater Hounsel from Texas was the vet who looked me over. He really checked me over thoroughly and gave me straight A’s. He was impressed with how well I looked and how fit I was, with no tack rubs or soreness anywhere. Then he asked my Momma “Did you even ride this horse? She looks GREAT”!!! Now that was a BIG BIG Compliment for me. I aced the finish!
Then Momma introduced herself, as she had selected Dr. Hounsel to vet judge Island In The Sky in 2019 & 2020. Sharon and Wende knew him from Rabbit Valley. He thanked us for keeping quiet about knowing him until after he vetted us. It would Not have mattered. You can’t do any better than I did. Dr. Hounsel took a picture with all of us! What a great way to end this magical experience.
Mom went off to bed. Sharon, Wende, walked with me back to my stall. Alf was there, and I was happy to see him. Those two women took wonderful care of me all night long. They were rubbing smelly stuff on me, putting red lights on me, feeding me. Every hour they did make me go out and walk around the barn several times. Then they walked me back down to McCann Stadium to see Doctor Peralez for the final exam. He told us this was a downhill race, and all the horses were a bit sore on the front end. Good to know, but I felt fine. I love all the extra attention, being rubbed and loved on.
KHALEESI’S RECAP & THANK YOUs
Momma Juju was some “Kind of a Nut” to attempt this feat at age 70. She told me it was really all the Women’s Surface Creek Saddle Club’s fault. Momma learned about The Tevis Cup” from Judy Mason way back in like 2007. Juju didn’t have the skill or knowledge to ride a horse long distances back then.
Momma must be a really SLOW learner. It took 14 years competing in NATRC and then the last 2 years conditioning with Brandy and Alf for her to learn how to ride correctly and take care of me.
We have so many people to thank; please forgive me if I forgot someone! (Blame Juju)
Thanks especially to “My Daddy,” who loves us both so much. Greg sacrificed so much to help “THE NUT” achieve her dreams!!! U R the B-E-S-T !!!
Thanks a MILLION to Brandy, who rode with my Momma before I was even born at Rabbit Valley, way back in 2007, Juju’s 2nd NATRC ride. Brandy had to demonstrate what posting was, seriously! Brandy, you have taught my Momma more over the years than you can ever imagine.
Thanks to my farrier Jason Spehar, who kept me shoeless for many years, until June of this year in fact. He said I didn’t need shoes because I had great feet. Jason had to convince my Momma NOT to put pads on me because I didn’t need them. Jason, you did a great job; my hooves never hurt and my steel shoes stayed on just fine.
Thanks to my friend, Michele Skerl, who used kindness and very light hands to train me to carry a rider. She also taught Juju to communicate with me more clearly and not lose her temper.
Thanks to my NATRC family of judges, fellow horses, and riders who taught my Momma how to take care of me over a long distance. Also, Johnnie Jewel from Texas , she encouraged me to KEEP TROTTING and got us to follow Erin and the Aussie!
Thank You, Holly Ulyate for sending me all the texts and advising me regarding all the changes to Tevis in 2023.
Thank You, Leah Cain who owned Tar Pistol Pete my sire. She gave my Momma loads of advice too over the years.
Thanks to Michele Gillette, who gave Alf and me several Masterson Treatments that tweaked us and helped relieve tension.
Thanks to all the WSCSC ladies who rode with my Momma when all she knew back them was “how not to fall off.” Thanks to Judy, Ole, Carolynn, Mel, Salli, and Lorie!
Thanks to Team Western Colorado, our hard-working crew for Team Alf and Khaleesi. Thank You – Betty, Rich, Gwen, Eric, Wende, Sharon, Daddy and Weldy (Director of Communications from Parker).
Thanks to all of you who sent us positive wishes and prayed for us on our journey!
We couldn’t have done it without everyone’s help!
The Nut and I love all of you!
Love Khaleesi,Your Content Goes Here
