For all there is a breaking point. This was mine.

But it is not a stopping point. It is a break. I’m going to do this. But not with out a few more reserves. This is my time to replenish. And then… I’m off to hit the home stretch!

I’m in a hotel in Preston. Another amazing place in Idaho filled with wonderful folks. The horses are at a safe place near by. A dear friend is coming to get us today, allowing us all a few days of r&r, then get us back on our way.

This time, the problem was me. I was the weak link. The horses are great.  I am so proud of how well they are doing and how their health is holding strong.  I have cared well for them.  I told you that every decision I make on this trip has their well being in mind.  Maybe I took that too far. Maybe at some point too I needed to take better care of me.

This journey has a way of providing for me, giving me just the lesson I need. This time on the form of giardia..

Oh, I’ve had it before. No biggie, I’ve said, I got this one whooped, and I did. Only this time I couldn’t. Likely you heard me brag about my lead belly. This is what you get for bragging.

Turns out my infallible strength failed.  This turned my lead belly in to lava, hot and molten, and after a week of not being able to hold food or water in or down, my muscles turned to mush and my energy to well, crap… 

Energy? What energy?

Like I often say,  time in the saddle is the easy part.  But what happens when you can’t even lift your saddle to get on it???

I am realizing I started treating this journey like some ultimate test to see how much can I take. Sleep in the shit, be dirty and wet and cold and challenge those skinny muscles to see how strong they can be, endure, break down, peel open…

Okay. I got it. I proved that point. I’m tough. But how tough do I need to be? How tough do I want to be? Like old rawhide, weathered and worn? Or with a soft silk lining that still can melt in my husband arms?

Is that the greatest lesson, how much can I endure… or is there something greater?

Rise up, Ginny…

(I pause here to reflect… because I’m still soaking this in.)

So I am human after all. I am not as tough as I thought I was. And maybe that’s okay.

A lot of thanks due here. A lot!!!  To Susan Jesser and Wendy Hanger, their kindness to this crazy old lady, and their absolutely stunning Morgan horses. To that rancher who had his son drop off hay and let us crash in his corrals. To new friends Denise and Kevin of Cub Creek RV Resort, and old friends Sheri and Todd that are coming to care for me. And thanks to the big burly welder and his beautiful wife who lifted the saddles for me.