CHAPTER SEVEN

Over the next few days Caitlyn saw little of Tracey who remained hidden in her study at the horse stables.

"She's worried about not being able to be actively involved in the training," Owen explained to Caitlyn, after coming out of the study and finding Caitlyn at the nearest paddock fence watching several horses being prepared for riding.

"But not being able to ride doesn't mean that she can't come out here and watch does it?"

"No, but Tracey prefers to have a physical part in the training. Normally, by now, she would be out on her second horse for the day, showing the exercise riders exactly what she wants done," Owen said.

"Because she can't speak?"

"Partly, but mostly because she has a very radical view on training and sometimes the riders and grooms pretend not to understand her because they think that she's too radical. They just forget that her radical training has made us one of the most competitive farms at the championships."

"Radical how?"

"She's adjusted her training to compensate for the format of the championships. Not many people have considered how training should compensate for the difference between the championships and normal racing."

"What is it about the champs that would make training different? How do they work anyway? I've never actually understood it," Caitlyn asked as they stood watching a horse being cantered around a small grass track.

"Well in normal racing, horses race in spurts. They'll race maybe once a month, occasionally more often, with rest directly after the race and then conditioning between each race depending on the conditions of the next race.

"The champs, on the other hand, basically compress an entire season's worth of racing down to about two weeks. A horse can run a race on two or even three consecutive days. The horses need to have a lot more stamina to be able to put out that much effort, especially for the longer distances. Not a lot of trainers have realized this and are still training according to the usual method and are not compensating for the increased need for stamina, which is why, on average, 50% of the horses that make it to the finals can't even start, and of those that do about 90% don't see the finish line.

"Now when the champs started up a lot of animal rights groups had a fit because they were worried that the horses would be run to their deaths, so now each horse is independently assessed before each race to ensure that they are capable of running."

"But don't some farms bribe the assessors into allowing their horses into the race?" Caitlyn asked. "This is SA after all, that kind of corruption is the norm not the exception around here."

"Before each race the assessors draw the group of horses that they are going to assess, out of a hat and a rep from each farm is present so that we can see that there is no fixing involved. Also there are around 50 assessors so it would be very expensive to bribe them all even for a big farm like us," Owen explained. "Our uncle was involved in setting up the champs and the assessment was his idea. There's nothing he hated worse than seeing a horse being run into the ground."

"If there are 50 assessors then how many horses come to the champs?"

"Well last I heard there were around 60 farms that had entered. In order to enter, a farm must have at least 5 horses that are running, but a farm can take as many as they want. This year we'll be taking around 100 horses. We've got at least one entry in each race."

Caitlyn stood speechless for a moment.

"But the logistics of it! It's mind-boggling! You're talking about a minimum of 300 horses in one place, each with their own stall, food, straw, tack and … manure, not to mention the grooms, the jockeys, the transport, trainers, owners, spectators, administrators … everybody! How in the hell is it managed?"

"There's an old farm up north, we use. Wait until you see it, it's stunning."

Caitlyn and Owen stood for a moment watching two horses run past them.

"So how long have the champs been in operation?" Caitlyn asked.

"This year will be 15th running of the champs," Owen replied.

"Wow! I hadn't realized that it was so long. So you guys have been involved for a long time."

"Yeah, we were there for the beginning. We've had horses at all but one of the champs." Owen said sombrely stopping a moment before he grinned and added. "Tracey was only 8 when the first champs were run, but she still insisted on following our uncle everywhere he went. And by the following year she had persuaded the jockey association to waive their usual age restriction and to allow her to ride. She rode every year until circumstances stopped her."

"What circumstances?" Caitlyn asked before she could stop herself. "Sorry, sometimes my brain fails to engage before my mouth."

"That's okay. What happened back then is for Tracey to say. She's the only one that knows the full story."

Caitlyn nodded, accepting that every family had secrets.

The horses thundered past them again, kicking up sand. Once they had passed Owen asked, "How did you hear about the champs, if you don't mind me asking. They are not usually advertised outside of the serious racing circuit."

"A friend of mine has a few race horses and he mentioned the champs as an alternative to normal racing and he was trying to decide whether or not to attend this year to see it," Caitlyn replied.

"Well, if he does decide to go let me know and I can make sure that he gets a ticket. They can go fast."

"Thanks," Caitlyn replied with a smile. "It's been a while since I've spoken to him so I'm not sure what he has decided."

"As I'm sure my mom has said, consider this your home, you're welcome to call him. If you want to go and visit just give a shout. Someone's always going into town on some errand or another. But if he comes here don't let Tracey find out that he's into racing or she'll have him drawn and quartered as a spy. She's paranoid about strangers on the property during the run up to the champs," Owen added with a grin.

"No worries. I wouldn't mind going to visit him though. He's been a good friend to me."

"As I said someone is always going into town." He pushed himself off the fence. "Well, I'd better get to work. T'll kick my butt if she knew I was hanging around here. Why don't you head down to the baby paddock? Joe is working with some new 2 year olds down there. If you turn left at the end of the training track you should see him."

"Thanks, Owen."



---JJJ---



CHAPTER EIGHT

That conversation had taken place a little over a week ago.

Now everyone was busy with Tracey's 'crazy' training regime.

Everyone, including Caitlyn, whose riding had steadily improved over the past week, was herding the racers on a day long trek that was the start of their endurance training.

All the grooms, Owen and Caitlyn were mounted while Tracey and Harry, the vet, were following in the 4x4 carrying food for the lunch stop.

This was one area of Tracey's training where the grooms considered her training to be a tad unusual. To herd all the horses down a path, where one or more could slip and hurt themselves or where they could all spook and take off running, was madness.

What they didn't know was that David and his crew had been down the road the previous day, clearing all the stones, filling any potholes and repairing any breaks in the fence on either side of the path.

Eventually they would be staying in the huts at the end of the path and doing some training on the beach sand track there. But that would come later, after the horses had a chance to lose any winter fat and to build up their racing muscles.

"The beach sand is good for building up their endurance, but if it's done too soon they could strain something and then they're out of racing for this year, maybe longer," Owen had explained to Caitlyn.



They were about half way down the track when a gunshot echoed out of the mountains that rose to their left, causing the horses to shy away and to lose pace.

"What the hell?" Owen wondered out loud. "Hold there!" he called to the grooms up front.

The herd came to a stand still, with the horses nervously milling about.

A second gunshot sounded, this time closer and Owen could have sworn that he heard a bullet pass directly over the horses' heads. This time several horses neighed nervously and a couple of the younger ones reared up.

Tracey jumped out of the 4x4, being careful not to slam the door and spook the horses further. She looked questioningly at Owen and he shrugged his shoulders.

Everything was quiet. The wind fell and even the insects seemed to be holding their breath.

A third shot sounded and Owen saw a rock, at the side of the path, shatter.

This was too much for the horses. They screamed in fear and took off running, evading all attempts to capture them.

A fourth shot rang out and a sickening thud followed. A horse in the midst of the herd fell with a painful grunt. Those behind it merely jumped clear and carried on running.

Everything was in chaos.