Whilst I'll happily use Gloves for any endurance ride up to 50 miles, using Glue-ons for longer distances seems preferable - no worries about any potential rubs or losing boots. Typically, I like to get the Glue-Ons off the feet within ten days. This is more a product of gluing a few days before an event but then being too floppy to get the things off until the following weekend.
Fergus' back feet in their glue-ons the morning following Tevis after a refreshing bath.
Tevis was no different - the EasyCare Glue Crew put them on the Wednesday before, and with only 6 hours sleep between Friday and Saturday nights, Sunday was a bust as far as doing anything coherent. ...Come to think of it, the next two weekends were pretty much a bust as far as doing anything coherent, but Sunday a week later I frog-marched myself out to the barn, and, armed with the usual array of Glue-on removal tools - a mallet, a wide-bladed screwdriver, and a couple of tyre levers - set forth to remove Fergus' boots.
45 minutes later, I was dripping sweat and had nearly managed to get one boot off.
I have never had such difficulty getting glue-ons off in the past - evidently EasyCare's current gluing protocol is ludicrously effective.
In the end, I ripped the front off the shell getting it off. This is not usual - this is the first Glue-on I've completely ruined in the process of removal - but given the choice of losing a boot or having it not be reusable, I'll go for the solid-attachment every time:
Left-front shell with the front torn out to get the stupid thing off.
During Tevis, I diligently carried a complete set of sparsie Gloves but really needn't have bothered - there was no way those suckers were coming off.
One of the "Tevis Bogs" - it's not the bogginess that is worrisome, it's the fact that these bogs contain hidden boulders lurking in the murky depths, waiting for the opportunity to rip off unsuspecting footwear.
In the end, I had to content myself with just removing the front boots that day. Once the boots are off, the feet are soft so it's an ideal time to trim (and I couldn't believe how much his feet had grown in the two weeks since he'd had his last trim - why people would want to leave them on for longer is a mystery). A few days later I persuaded Patrick to come out to the barn and take off the back boots. They came off slightly more easily, but were still a struggle.
Our next adventure comes in the middle of September with Virginia City 100 when we will be gluing again. Unfortunately, there will be no EasyCare Glue Crew to help out so I'll be picking their brains over the next couple of weeks as to what steps they took to get those things so blinkin' well attached.
It's always best to carry emergency supplies on the saddle "just in case" - especially when travelling 100 miles.
With husband/owner Patrick handling, Fergus had his boots firmly glued on by the EasyCare Crew the Wednesday afternoon before Tevis. Despite the fact they were firmly glued, I like to be prepared so still carried an entire set of Gloves with us. If I could have, I would have carried a spare girth as well - but that's just silly, right? (I had it in my crew box, though).
I feel the green boot bags on the back of the saddle add to the overall ensemble:
So proud of my big borrowed golden horse - crossing the finish line. (photo: Gore/Baylor)
So Fergus and I find ourselves unexpectedly on our way to Tevis (4th August) and right now I'm wavering back and forth between "normality" and the usual "Tevis paranoia". Predictably, I don't feel he's as fit as I'd like - and I don't feel close to as fit as I'd like, but we'll do our best and provided the temperatures don't get too ridiculous, we stand a good chance of finishing. He's strong and I'm the smart one, right?
In August and September 2001, we watched from our front deck as the Star Fire burned over a period of nearly three weeks. The fire rampaged through thick timber of old growth forest along the steep canyonsides of Red Star Ridge and by the time it was out, 16,800 acres stood blackened.
The Star Fire the day it started, from my front deck.
Over the ensuing years much restoration has been carried out, including the planting of 4,300 seedlings by volunteers. The trail through the area - formerly used by the Tevis 100 Mile Ride until the mid 90s, and still used by the Western States 100 mile Run - was closed for a number of years until the dangerous dead trees could be removed. It is now open, once again on the WS100 Run route, and although sparsely used, available to equestrians.
Seedlings crowding each other for space along Red Star Ridge.
We spent the week and weekend following 4th July horse camping up at Robinson Flat (the 36-mile vet check on the Tevis) and decided to ride the trail used by the Run - Duncan Canyon to Red Star Ridge - returning via the Tevis trail down the dirt Soda Springs Road.
On the ridge south of Robinson Flat, looking out towards Red Star Ridge.
Since the fire cleared the hillside of trees, although you can see Red Star Ridge from Little Bald Mountain on the Robinson Flat side, we weren't sure what to expect as far as the trail went. The only thing we did know was that the trail would be open and clear because the Run was only two weeks previously.
On the way down Duncan Canyon.
But one thing we hadn't considered was: no vegetation = no good footing. Although the views were amazing, the going was slow simply because we were walking through denuded rocks for miles and miles.
Looking down on French Meadows Reservoir.
Poor Hopi, who'd never gone that far before and certainly wasn't mentally prepared, was a very sad horse indeed, necessitating lots of stopping to eat "some of that green stuff" to cheer him up.
Thankfully, when we finally reached the end of the ridge and picked up the dirt road the 8 miles back to Robinson Flat, he underwent a miraculous recovery and was suddenly able to trot all the way home with much enthusiasm.
On Red Star Ridge - views in both directions.
By the time we were done - 23 miles in total - both Fergus and Hopi had each ripped through the toe of a back boot as a testament to just how abrasive the footing had been - particularly some of the more volcanic portions. I was glad they had the foot protection the boots offered.
The following day I was joined by fellow Team Easybooters, Tami Rougeau and Renee Robinson, and I borrowed Fergus and we rode "The Canyons" - Robinson Flat to Foresthill. This is a 34-mile trek through the three deepest canyons.
Bite stylin' in his red glue-ons.
We carefully practised all aspects of the trail, including the rocky singletrack leading south from Robinson Flat, which I found out the next day is being excluded from this year's Tevis.
On the way down the rocky singletrack towards Dusty Corners.
One trail obstacle we hadn't expected to encounter was a mother and baby cow just as we reached Pucker Point. The jangling bell was the biggest giveaway. Needless to say we hand-walked Pucker Point "just in case":
... which turned out to be just as well when we got around the corner:
Bite is deathly afraid of cows, but look how well he's keeping it together!
The best part of the whole ride was a wade in the creek below Swinging Bridge, the most gorgeous place on earth. Both Bite and Fancy were in Glue-Ons, while Fergus was wearing Gloves. Despite the thorough soaking, no boots were lost on the long climb up to Devil's Thumb.
Bite and Fancy enjoying a refreshing wade in the creek after the long descent from Last Chance.
Tami and Fancy on Swinging Bridge.
By the time the mini-vacation was over, I'd ridden 70 miles and Fergus had completed a good 70% of the Tevis trail. Which got me thinking, and even though I didn't mean to, I signed us up for Tevis. It should be a most excellent adventure.
In the middle of May it was time for the Annual Tevis Fun Ride. This weekend is spent horse camping at the Foresthill Mill Site (the 68 mile vet check on the 100 mile endurance ride) and joining a bunch of like-minded folk to ride portions of the Western States Trail.
Many people come to this event in order to get themselves and their horses ready for Tevis - the more the horse knows the trail (especially the part you will be riding at night), the better. My Tevis-entered friend wasn't able to bring her own horse down, so she borrowed Fergus for the weekend to familiarize herself with the trail's twists and turns.
This left me with either Hopi and Small Thing to ride. Both were capable, but neither was up for 35-40 miles in one weekend. So I ended up bringing both and did a day on each of them.
Day 1 - Devil's Thumb to Foresthill
On Day 1, we trailered 45 minutes from Foresthill, down an 8 mile dirt road in the middle of nowhere, to Devil's Thumb - around mile 54 of the Tevis. Because of lack of access, usually the only way to do this is to ride out and back.
This was Hopi's day to be ridden. He's still pretty green, but coming along in leaps and bounds, demonstrating a level-headedness I wasn't sure he possessed. I knew that we'd be hand-walking most of the more alarming sections of drop-off trail, so figured he would get lots of practice at not being a klutz on the technical trail.
We were also joined by Tami Rougeau and the lovely May.
This section of trail is only 14 miles or so, but has 3,600' of descent and 2,700' of climbing - and plenty of "technical" for Hopi to practice his footwork on.
All three participants were booted - May sporting Glue-Ons, Fergus in Glue-Ons in back (leftover from Washoe Valley) and Gloves in front, and Hopi in a mish-mash of leftover Gloves from the bottom of the boot bucket.
The narrow, drop-off trail a few miles out of Deadwood in El Dorado Canyon.
Weenie that I am, I would have been hand-walking this section even if I wasn't riding a green horse.
Slowly working our way towards the omnipresent goal of one day completing Tevis, Hopi visits Michigan Bluff for the first time.
Hopi stomping along, learning what to do with his feet.
Renee and Fergus, Tami and May at a tiny creek in Volcano Canyon.
We had a most excellent day and I was thrilled with how well Hopi dealt with everything. He's still klutzy, but the way he's keeping up with his learning curve is very encouraging.
Day 2 -Foresthill to Driver's Flat
For Day 2 I dropped my trailer at the end of our ride and caught a lift back to Foresthill. It was Small Thing's turn and although everyone else tacked up their horses before the trailer left, I didn't trust him not to rip half his tack off while standing tied to the trailer, so opted instead to wait until I got back to clothe him. Of course it was only then that I realized I'd left his tiny short girth in the trailer 30 minutes down the road <sigh>. As luck would have it, Tami had a short girth and we were in business again.
We ended up with a row of five booted horses - the two in front are Destiny and Breezy - both of whom wear Original Easyboots over shoes; followed by May in her Glue-Ons; Small Thing in his Gloves; and Fergus in his Gloves. Between them, the five horses have nearly 9,000 miles of endurance competition miles. Small Thing was the odd one out, having not yet managed to start a ride.
This day was over 20 miles - and warm - and I wasn't sure how well Small Thing would cope. As it turned out, he coped admirably, bopping down the trail with much enthusiasm... in fact, getting more enthusiastic the further we went. It seemed that the more pathetic I felt, the faster he went.
California Street Loop about two thirds of the way between Foresthill (mile 68) and the next vet check, Francisco's (mile 85). This is the section ridden in the dark by all but the front runners during Tevis.
I trusted Small Thing not to do anything stupid - so of course he tried to turn sideways to snack along this section, causing his back feet to fall off the trail, and giving me a mild cardiac arrest.
Finally off the narrow singletrack and nearly at Francisco's. This is the Middle Fork of the American River. I had thought that Small Thing would be tired by the time we got to this point, but instead he took off cantering when we got to the river road.
By the time we reached Francisco's, I was suffering from heat stroke and wanting nothing more than to lie down in the shade for ten minutes and regroup. Small Thing helped.
The crowning glory of the day was Small Thing marching up the 1,000' climb to Driver's Flat at the end of the ride, showing no signs of being remotely tired, causing me to reassess his capabilities. Hmmm, maybe he could do 50 mile endurance ride? (never mind that I'm not yet capable of riding 20 miles on him without wilting).
Lucy Chaplin Trumbull
Sierra Foothills, California
In late May it was time for Part 2 of our Triple Crown attempt - NASTR 75 endurance ride. Typically, I don't bother gluing on boots for 50 mile rides, but when the distance gets up to 75 I start to lean towards using Glue-Ons. In Fergus' case, he'd probably do fine in Gloves - he's never had any rubbing from the gaiters - but it seems to be better safe than sorry.
Glue-Ons Offering Support
Lucy Chaplin Trumbull
Sierra Foothills, California
Fergus didn't get his glue-ons removed until the Saturday following NASTR 75 - 8 days later - due to lack of energy on my part. As soon as the shells come off is the perfect time to do a really attentive trim because the foot is still moist, allowing you to remove any retained sole and get to the bottom of any other rock-like areas of the foot.
First you assemble the horse, a hay bag, and a few chickens as helpers:
Then you assemble the necessary tools - gloves, a rubber mallet, a couple of tyre removers, and a pointy hoof pick.
To say the weekend didn't quite go as expected would be an understatement.
Lucy Chaplin Trumbull
Sierra Foothills, California
It's possible that Small Thing is in league with the weather gods. Last Saturday we were supposed to be galloping across the NV desert (...well, maybe doing a frantic speed-trot) on our first official distance ride. But once again, despite promising forecasts earlier in the week, by Friday the highway over the Sierra was closed from snow and ice-related accidents and the ride had been postponed for five weeks due to the swamp-like qualities of the alkali flat that was supposed to be ride camp (eloquently described as "slick as snot").
So I had to find something else to write about.
A discussion arose this week about how horse-folk can be very evangelical about their specific way of doing things - their way is the way - and it was suggested that hoof-booters can be a bit overbearing in their attitude at times.
Personally, I have nothing against steel shoes when applied to properly trimmed hooves - they've worked for a long time. On the other hand, I am biased against bad trimming - barefoot or otherwise: - flared feet, long toes - or against a cr*ppy shoeing job - I cringe when I see horses with baked-bean cans instead of feet, frogs up in the air; or more commonly, splayed feet that have little structural integrity (often accompanied by the proud statement "My horse has huge feet") or the other favorite, ski-jump shaped toes.
'Course, horses with cr*ppy shoeing still do well anyway. Go figure.
This horse did well at a tough 100 mile ride despite its rather alarming shoeing.
To opt to go barefoot is a personal preference and one that requires commitment. There's little point trying to convince someone about its value if that person doesn't share that philosophy.
My personal reasons for using hoof-boots are:
• With hay approaching $20 a bale, I can't afford to pay someone to put shoes on my horse. Sad but true. If I had tons of money, would I pay someone else to trim and boot my horses for me? Probably. Grovelling around in the mud can be fun, but not when you have to do it as a chore and you're already suffering from a severe shortage of time. I can think of a multitude of other things I'd rather be doing.
• As with all things that are hard, I get personal satisfaction from doing my horses' feet. Of course it's easier to not have to deal with it and to sit around reading a book, eating bonbons, but not nearly as rewarding
• If I shod my horses I'd still have to stand and hold them for the farrier, so if I have to spend the time anyway I might as well do them myself, on my schedule.
• In the old days, whichever horse I shod would always be the horse that didn't end up getting ridden (because of the horse's health, my health, or "life stuff" going on).
• I like the control I have over their feet. With one toed-in horse and one who grows tons of toe, I like being able to poke at them at regular intervals to keep it under control. If I look at their feet and go "euw" then it's my own fault.
• I don't have to worry about trying to synchronize shoeing schedules with ride schedules (just as well, given that my ride schedule is making itself up as we go along).
• When I get kicked/stood on/ran over the top of, I much prefer the horse to be barefoot.
• When I'm on pavement, I don't have to scrinch my body in angst convinced the horse will fall down (to reiterate, this is my personal paranoia and has little to do with reality).
• If you're going to do lots of miles on a horse, doing it with the least concussion possible seems like a good plan. Boots provide protection against concussion.
• And finally, the thing that really tipped me over the edge was Roo doing an enormous spook about 50 miles into a 100 mile ride and only half wrenching his shoe off in the process - it was still firmly attached but offset by about 3/4". Luckily it was as we were coming into the vet check and even more luckily, my farrier happened to be doing the ride and was just ahead of us so I was able to interrupt his lunch hold to ask him to reset the shoe (I'm sure he was thrilled). Never again, however, do I want to be in the position where I would potentially have to pull from a ride because of something that stupid. Not to mention the fact that usually when they wrench shoes, the horse yanks out half the hoof-wall at the same time, so there's nothing left to nail to. And even if they don't pull off half the hoof with the shoe, they tweak their leg and go lame.
Now admittedly, the above reasons may not be sufficient for many to make the switch - that's their choice. One size does not fit all, and if shoes are working for them, then good. If people don't have the desire to mess with boots - without that initial commitment, then, no, boots probably aren't for them.
One time I can see it being appropriate to suggest a change is when people say:
"Look, my horse has [insert foot problem], how would you fix it?".
(thinks: keep the horse barefoot and use boots - being able to work on the horse's foot at every 1-2 weeks would eventually solve the problem, and if it's congenital, at least you can keep it under control with regular trims)
With this kind of toe-growth, being able to trim at short intervals keeps things under control
...Or if your horse happens to have been constructed with the front legs stuck on the wrong sides.
When this horse was in shoes, he needed shoeing every four weeks to keep his toed-in front feet from becoming a problem.
"My horse has sensitive feet and gets bruised easily, but I don't want to pad" (thinks: use EZ Boots - voila, instant pad that you can take off afterwards).
Setting the Record Straight
This week I was contacted by Rachel Shackelford who was mentioned in a post I wrote a few months ago concerning Tevis (article here). She wanted to set the record straight regarding her horse Cody's pull at Tevis in 2010.
It is true I wasn't even on the US continent when this event occurred (I was in England attending my brother's wedding, surrepticiously following the ride over the internet while trying to pretend to be a wedding guest). I was enthused to see locals Rachel and Cody doing so well that year (they were running in third place) and bummed when they showed up on the pull list. Afterwards when I asked people who'd been at the ride what happened I was told that Cody had slipped going through Foresthill (the paved portion of the ride) and returned to the vet check and pulled. Seeing in the AERC records that Cody was pulled for "surface factors" (which invariably means abrasions of some sort) I put two and two together and came up with what seemed to me the obvious scenario.
Except that's not what happened at all.
Rachel says she was about four miles out of Foresthill on the dirt singletrack when Cody tripped on a rock and fell on his knees. Although he had no scrapes and was sound, she opted to return to the Foresthill check and have him looked over by the vets. Despite getting a clean bill of health, she still wasn't comfortable with continuing - as she put it: "Cody ...NEVER trips. He is the most sure footed horse that I have been extremely blessed to ride...he gave me a sign that it wasn't his day" - so she opted to pull.
Given the above information, then, no - as suggested in my post - Rachel probably wouldn't feel the need to switch from steel shoes to boots.
And in Cody's case he retired sound after over 4,000 miles of competition so shoes evidently worked fine for him. I applaud Rachel for being able to race a horse with that many miles at that level - no flash-in-the-pan there - something I have great admiration for.
In my defense, I was writing about the train of thought I had that day - that if a horse had slipped on pavement then wouldn't the rider want to switch to footwear with better traction? Since that isn't what happened, it doesn't apply to her.
My apologies for any offense caused.
Lucy Chaplin Trumbull
Sierra Foothills, California
Team Lurgy (Fergus + Lucy) made their debut last weekend at the Nevada Derby 50 miler endurance ride.
Fergus is my husband Patrick's 16+ hh Tennessee Walker/Arabian horse and although I am his main caretaker and trimmer, I'd only ridden him twice prior to embarking on our 50 miles together. Given that he's probably twice the weight of pony Small Thing, and travels at twice the speed but half the tempo, I knew we were in for a very steep learning curve when it came to adjusting my riding to suit his way of going. Couple that with having not done a 50 since May last year, this was going to be an interesting ride.
Fergus has never worn shoes (he's about to turn 10 years old) and his arrival in our lives was the main push to convert all the other horses to barefoot. If I was going to have to learn to trim him, I might as well do the other five horses as well.
He was probably in the very first wave of the horses competing in Gloves. We were at the Death Valley Encounter multi-day endurance ride in 2008 - with Patrick planning for Fergus to wear Epics for their first limited distance ride - when we came across Garrett Ford fitting some other horses for the new Glove boot.
I'd heard horror stories about Tennessee Walkers yanking off shoes from their way of going, so was a little worried that we were using an unproven (for Fergus, at least) booting method - especially given that it would be Patrick and his first distance ride together. Fergus went out the next day in a set of size 3 (fronts) and size 2 (rears) Gloves and they completed two days of LD that week with absolutely no problems whatsoever. So much for worrying - Fergus has some TWH traits, but yanking boots isn't one of them.
In the years that have followed, we've downsized his Glove size to 2.5s in front and 1.5s in back, but recent changes in his left rear foot have necessitated bumping him up to a size 2. When I listen to him walking, he steps down differently on that foot so I'm considering getting a chiropractor to take a look at him to make sure there's nothing going on which could be causing this slight anomaly.
Back to last weekend.
Fergus and I went out on a 45 minute pre-ride on Friday afternoon and I came back feeling a little shell-shocked. Fergus has a humungous trot with loads of suspension - there's seemingly 5 seconds of hang-time between each stride and he's like steering the Lusitania - not exactly the short wheel-base of Small Thing.
As luck would have it, the following morning my riding buddy's horse was having an attack of "I'm so fit I left my brain back at the trailer" so we ended up walking most of the first five miles, giving me a chance to really settle in with Fergus and get used to this new balancing act. Perfect (all those trail miles babysitting Uno and Small Thing were paying off in dividends). The fact that Fergus' TWH genes blessed him with an amazingly big walk didn't hurt any either - I could get used to this travelling at speed without breaking into a trot option.
With cattle guards come cattle. Patrick and I discussed prior to me riding him that Fergus had never done anything bad at a ride before... uh, except for when we met those cows on the trail that time. Because of this, we proceeded with caution.
Fergus at the first vet check - having fallen instantly in love with a grey horse he spotted leaving.
The typical NV wind blew... and blew and blew. By the time we'd made the 1800'/550 m ascent to the top of the Dogskin Mountains it was gusting 60 mph, practically blowing us off the horses at times. It seemed like the harder it blew, the faster Fergus wanted to go - a pleasant surprise - I was expecting him to suffer from the "bleahs" from the climb.
Cresting the top of the Dogskin Mountains, before dropping down the other side to Bedell Flat. The steep descent featured several springs that had been diverted into large cattle troughs.
Once down on the flats on the far side of the mountains, it continued to blow and Fergus continued to be far more enthusiastic than I'd ever expected him to be. Unfortunately the muscles in my legs didn't share his enthusiasm and it began to feel like someone was jamming a hot poker into the side of one leg. However tempting it may have been to just let him go and relieve the pain from having my legs tweaked, it was definitely a case of "just because he thinks he can, doesn't mean he should" - his current fitness level was definitely not conducive to finishing a speedy 50 without something going horribly wrong, despite what he might think. So we worked on trying to keep it to a dull roar and get back to camp in some semblance of control.
Back at camp for our hour hold, I quickly checked under each Glove gaiter to make sure he hadn't collected any debris or piles of sand from having slogged through some deeper sand during the descent off the mountains. I was pleased to see that everything was fitting beautifully - he had a small wear at the front of one pastern, so I loosened that gaiter a little, but otherwise his boots were holding up with no problems at all - pretty typical for Fergus (he's not the most interesting horse to write about when it comes to 'boot adjustment').
Inside the back of my trailer, I was confused to discover everything covered in a fine layer of sand. It turned out that while we were out on the trail lamenting the wind, a sandstorm had blown through camp - sand-blasting everyone and everything. I'm going to be washing grit off my belongings for some time to come.
The sandstorm in camp - that's my trailer on the right. Photo: Andy Gerhard
Keeping it to a dull roar. Photo: Bill Gore
During the hour hold, the skies opened and began to rain - Fergus disappeared under a rain blanket to keep him and my saddle dry while he ate his slurpie refreshments.
When it was time to leave, even though the sun was now shining again, we went for overkill dressing - waterproof legs, jacket, gloves and fleecy neck wrap. Just as well - within 30 minutes of leaving camp it began to rain again, gradually degenerating into snow. The horses decided they were on a Death March and we trudged rather unenthusiastically along into the head-wind, icy snow biting into our faces.
All bundled up, but good and toasty on the trail. Woolly gloves are perfect for mopping a continuously runny nose. Photo: Tami Rougeau
One thing I was surprised to learn was how sensitive Fergus was to different footing, despite wearing boots all around. I suspect some of this has to do with my neglect of his feet in the last few months and hope that this will improve as the mud dries out and we get back to regular trims. Trotting along the gravel roads, he would veer decisively to the softer (or seemingly softer) outside edges, and once we got back on the soft stuff he would joyfully increase his speed. I may experiment with 6 mm comfort pads in his boots to see if it helps, assuming adding pads will work with his Gloves - results seem to vary with different horses and sometimes they cause the low-profile Glove to come off.
As soon as we rounded the corner at the northern-most point of the loop, both horses brightened considerably from their Death March. They had no interest in eating or drinking from the fare provided by the Ride, but every interest in catching the group of horses about eight minutes ahead of us. That took about ten minutes and then Fergus and I returned to our battle of wills on exactly what speed was appropriate for an unfit horse, given that we still had 8 miles or so still to go.
And it was this portion of the ride where Fergus really shined - a very long straight road for the last six miles - the least interesting part of the entire day. We got up on the soft verge and he showed me his bestest medium trot (the one I didn't realise he possessed) and the miles flew by. I've never ridden a horse that could cover ground quite so effortlessly before and it was a true gift at the end of a long day on the trail.
We completed the ride dead last in 9.5 hours, but Fergus was still pratting around at trot-out during vetting - displaying his sideways stupid trot and bellowing for his buddies (standing right next to him). Finishing with such a happy horse was the second gift of the day.
Worst part of the day? Having to call Patrick and confess that, yes, his horse *is* the most perfect of all our horses, much as I hate to admit it to him. I'll never hear the end of it now...
Lucy Chaplin Trumbull
Sierra Foothills, California