All Roads Lead to Stephenville/ Sonita

Brum, brum, brum brum. My big diesel roared along the two-lane highway. I had my best friend in the front seat, our two girls and my dog in the back, a trailer full of horses and The Texas Playboys cranked up on the C.D. player.

I can't think of a time I'm happier than on a road trip to a horse show. I love the excitement of being on the road, the anticipation of meeting and riding with friends I only see at the shows. I know my clothes, my tack, my horse and my kid are clean, there's an uncracked jug of Margaritas in the cooler and there's always the hope of that first big win dangling in front of you.

We were on the way to Stephenville, Texas and the National Reined Cowhorse World Show. The girls chattered and fought in the back. When my little dog Dinah got sick of them she would hop up front and perch on Kathy's knee.

For much of the thirteen hour drive we were on back country roads. The flat brown countryside was spotted with dirty snow and intensified the giant winter sky.

We traveled through tiny towns and would stop when we found a promising diner with a field close by so we could let the horses out for a drink and a stretch and then do the same for the girls.

For the most part all three mares were quiet and steady. Sonita had only a little nervous sweat under her blanket and even drank a little from her yellow bucket.

I felt calm and relaxed. I didn't have a shot in hell of placing, which took a little of the stress off. This was my last show with Sonita, we were going out with a bang. All I wanted was to have a clean run for our last hurrah. I was a happy little Buddha.

I knew my mare well enough to understand I had no guarantees. Sonita was who she was, if we had a good ride it would be great, if we didn't it would be OK. After this show she was going home to her new owner. I had no intention of not enjoying her for who she was.

When we pulled into Stephenville the girls were out cold, a tangled mess of arms and legs, their soft snores filled the cab of the Ford and strands of their long hair stuck in the corners of their mouths. Little Dinah Dog was curled in the middle of the heap, her bat ears were tuned to us and her eyes grew bright as we turned into the show grounds. She knew we were almost there.

I parked in front of the barns and whacked on the bottoms of the girls feet. They groaned and whined as they felt around for their boots. Kathy and I jumped out of the truck and were slapped in the face with the cold wet washcloth that passed for air in Stephenville. We dug around until we found our books and headed off to the show office, Dinah tucked in at my heel.

The girls stumbled out into the cold night, yanking their jackets on and making faces at us as they went to unload. The mares stomped and whinnied. Horses in the barn called back to them, eager to assure and be assured.

The smell of burnt coffee greeted us, blinking and squinting at the bright lights, as we stepped into the office. A young woman, with a tired slump to her shoulders, stood behind the counter, patiently explaining the stall designation to a tall man in a cowboy hat. She straightened and smiled at us over his shoulder.

"C'mon in, I'll be with you in a minute," she said.

"You've got a late night going," I replied, the clock told me it was a little before one in the morning. How our thirteen hours had turned into fifteen was a mystery.

Kathy stepped up to the desk and grabbed the phone book. She wanted to call the motel we were staying in and assure them we were coming. She kept her voice low, but I could tell by the sound of her voice she was apologising for the late hour. She turned and grimaced at me. She had obviously awakened the owner of the motel. Our finances didn't allow us to stay somewhere that could afford a night clerk.

I leaned against the wall. We were here. Pretty soon our horses would be bedded in their stalls, a clean, warm blanket on them, their water buckets full and a good feed in front of them. We would head to the motel, the girls would tumble into bed and Kathy and I would crack open the margaritas. I still felt calm and happy. I was going to enjoy every minute of this show. Who knew when I'd have a horse who could get me here again.

The tall cowboy gathered up his paperwork and turned to walk out the door. I looked up into the craggy face of a man I had only seen on the cover of magazines. Todd Crawford tipped his hat and walked out the door. The winter air came rushing in as he left. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. I might have passed it off as the cold, but cold couldn't explain the sudden twist in my stomach. This was the big time. My happy little Buddha disappeared with a whimper. I was terrified. We were at the World Show.