Horse back ride stories. NM Reed is a long-time accomplished trainer and rider of horses in California. Endurance racing is a test of horse and rider over rough terrain on a set course of 25 to 100 miles, with in time limits in one day. Join me on my rides through the wilderness. Hang on, because we go fast. We work hard and at the end of the ride, we are tired, but exhilarated and satisfied with a hard day's ride. "I love horses, and riding; I always have, since my first memories. And I still feel reborn each time I get on a horse. And I love the wilderness. And yes, I love going fast. So, it was with great joy when I discovered many years ago that Endurance riding combined these favorite things of mine. I don't in fact like getting up early in the morning. But on ride morning I am OK with it. The experience of seeing the new day's sun rising over a new vista is something I cherish. Did you know that all the horses whinny at first light? They also whinny just as the sun goes down too. Learning this while camped out with my horse was worth it all. Long distance trail riding has always been my favorite thing. Doing it with a large group of people brought it all together for me. Endurance riding can be fun, fast and competitive. But when I get on a horse in the early morning hours to head off on a days endurance ride, I know I've done all this work for something so much more intriguing to me and much less tangible. Something difficult to pin down. But a story can say so much. And the stories that follow I hope to convey the depth of my experiences. Wilderness endurance riding really has been a journey to the heart. To my own heart, to a much deeper understanding myself. And into the heart of my horse, developing a deeper relationship with my horses I never thought possible. And into the heart of an unknown wilderness, which I hope to capture in story and pictures I've taken on the trail. I mean, lets face it, ride camp is usually in the middle of nowhere. Then from there, we head out even further. Often times we are riding in pristine areas of wilderness, sometimes where no human has even stepped in perhaps a hundred years. The outback of Nevada, in mountains called the Dogs Skins, with the snow blowing horizontal over my horse's ears. Or in the Sierra Nevada Mountains of California, in a desolate place on the river called Murderer's Bar. Not many people go there. Who would want to? I mean, there's really nothing there. But to ride a horse through, traveling through country on trails that were established by Indians, pioneers and outlaws, now that gives me goose bumps. And horses can often travel country and terrain humans find too difficult, or just too plain remote to go. Twenty five miles out in the high desert from no where, turning between two black rock mountains heading deeper into nowhere, and my horse decides to turn left, not right where the ribbons are, when he knows for sure that is the way home, will remain forever memories for you. It is risky, it feels lonely sometimes. But the echo off the high rocks, the skittering of the lizards and birds who just never see humans or horses speaks to my heart. My horse's ears are up, attenuated to his surroundings, and he usually knows which way is home. He often resists turning toward the new trail where the ribbons go, that faint life-line laid out by the ride management, you hope hasn't been altered by vandals, or hungry cows who seem to have an affinity for surveyors tape and clothes pins..... It takes some kind of courage to ride like this. Nerves of steel, preparation, and a more-than-just a good horse. These stories are of my adventures on endurance rides. I don't want to talk about statistics, or gear, or the human politics too much. I want to take you on a journey to the heart, the heart of a rider, and heart of a horse, into the heart of new territory.