((GONE LIKE A FREIGT TRAIN))-OPEN :}

[kbetzina]

Karlee had never ran Reno on a real race track. Sure, she knew he was fast. She had run him through feilds and arena's. She knew he would never be a champion race horse, or atlesat didn't think so. People who had seen her run him always said she should enter him in an open race. Sure, he was a regestered Jockey Club thoroughbred, but she just didn't think he would be a good race horse. He was already older than most horses running today, and just didn't have the experiance. But she thought today would be a good day to just work him around the track. She was riding in just a regular english jumping saddle. Not your typical race track saddle. There was nobody else here, not even the cleaning crew. It was almost eerily empty as the girl and the horse walked onto the track.

Reno walked lazily as she rode the horse onto the track. The air was cool and crisp, as it was only seven in the morning. She wanted to get here before the serious competitors showed up. Karlee wanted to take Reno through a couple warm up laps before she asked him for a big run. Reno was usualy a level headed horse, and today was one of those good days it seemed. Karlee usualy rode western on her horse Bella, but she did occasionaly ride english events with reno. Jumping and cross country mainly, and now starting to race. She prefered western, but she enjoyed some english. She hated dressage though. Could not stand it, and neither could her horse.

She asked Reno for a trot as they began to make thier way around the track. Remembering to post as they did so, and Karlee kept Reno's head collected to keep the gelding from running. Reno's trot was not perfect, he was not a dressage horse, it didn't need to be. It was slightly rough and for somebody who didn't ride him all the time, would probably fall off. The bay gelding was more of a speed horse, cross country, jumping, and racing... After doing half of a lap at a trot, she then pushed him into a slow, reaching canter. The gelding kept his head collected as he cantered. He had long strides even at a canter. He was enjoying himself, Karlee could tell. His ears pointed forward, keeping his paces even, breathing evenly. Reno almost never got outside the arena or cross country course, so this was nice for both of them.

As they neared the place they had started, Karlee got ready to ask him to sprint. They would only sprint about a quarter of a lap, but she was excited. She felt her heart speed up, and in turn, Reno got excited. When she gave him the cue, he would take off at his top speed. Ready boy? Karlee whispered, as she let loose on the reins and kicked the bay geldings sides. With a slight grunt, the two where off. Karlee was wearing a helmet, as was in the rules, but no jockey goggles or other protective gear. She almost never played it safe. LIfe on the wild side was fun. Reno was fast, and now that she was running him on the track she knew that. She was lifted slightly out of the saddle, giving reno his full neck. The horse was really pushing himself past what Karlee expected. As she neared her point where she wanted to go back to a canter, she started to pull back slightly on the reins. Instead of slowing down, Reno sped up. He lengthened his stride and continued to go faster and faster. Karlee was starting to get slightly worried now. Should she let him burn himself out? Why wouldn't he stop?

Reno was an ex racehorse, unbenounced to Karlee. And when she ran him on this track, his old instincts kicked back in. Karlee loosed the reins slightly and noticed his speed start to decrease. He knew verbal commands very well, so she figured now would be as good a time as any to use them. Easy Reno. Eassy, His ears flicked back, and his stride began to lessen, almost immediatly going from a dead run into a canter. The gelding was breathing heavy, warn out. It had now clicked in Karlee's head that he was probably an ex racehorse. She had never checked him for a tattoo, but thought she might want to do that, to make sure. Reno went down to a trot, and Karlee let him trot around the track while she pondered her newly aquired information.

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[Anthony James Lovasz]

The sound of hooves striking the earth in a rhythmic beat was a common one around Addison Texas. There were horses and rider of all types just about everywhere you looked. Reining horses to dressage horses to trail horses to eventing horses to hunter horses to cutting horses to just about any sort of horse you could imagine. But to one particular resident of Addison, the greatest of all these sorts of horses were the racehorses, and the greatest of all the racehorses were the insane ones that no one would dare to ride for the very logical fear of death or severe pain. Anthony, though, it seemed had no fear of pain or death. Oh sure, he did, but you would never know it from his apparent fearlessness when it came to the crazy horses he rode. If ever there was a horse no one would get on the back of, Anthony was the guy they called, because they knew he just couldn't say no to that sort of offer.

He was the type of guy who liked to fix things, and he was obviously quite good at fixing racehorses that were often deemed too insane to race or eles too dangerous to ride. In his opinion, there was no horse that couldn't be ridden. If it was born to run, all it needed was someone with the patience and determination to get thrown off 50 times a day and get right back on no matter how many times they got hurt. That guy, was Anthony, no doubt about it. He'd been injured on the track so many times he had once been practically world renowned for it. Granted a lot of people came to the conclusion that he was just as crazy as the horses he rode, and some wouldn't have anything to do with someone that crazy... but that was fine by him.

One of said "insane" horses was on the track this morning. The bay thoroughbred was uniquely marked with white brindle stripes making him stand out among the other horses. Electric Avenue, he was called, and very appropriately so. He was a sprinter with impressive speed right from the start. If he got the lead, no one would ever get it back. His races were mainly parades, he'd go out and say catch me if you can, and it was a very rare occasion when anybody could. Unfortunately, he was known for a temper the size of Texas and he would regularly have to scratch from races because he'd do something to his jockey which would make the rider either not want to ride him or else be unable to. He'd bitten, kicked, thrown, flipped over backwards... you name it, he'd probably done it.

The trouble was, he'd gotten away with it for so long, now it was just a nasty habit, one that he needed to have broken, and Anthony was just the guy for the job. This morning they'd nearly made it to the track without incidence when the horse decided to take a chunk out of anthony's shoulder, which of course ended with Anthony bleeding and the horse getting a sharp smack across the shoulder and jerk on the stud chain looped over his nose. He'd been getting better now that he knew that hurting people wasn't going to get him out of work. They had occasional days now where Tric would behave himself and would be rewarded with a lighter work, but on days when he decided to act out, he was worked harder, and he was starting to catch on. After getting up to the track, still bleeding, Anthony took the halter off and jumped up on his back before he could try anything else.

He'd started taking Tric out on the track only when there were very few people there. While he had gotten used to the disapproving looks from other people when they saw him get on a horse while bleeding at times profusely, he did tire of them eventually, and it was always nice to have most of the track to yourself. After a brief warmup, Anthony took Tric down to the general vicinity of where the start gates would be located, making him stand still for a few moments. Don't you go pretending to burn out on me today jefe. Anthony mumbled to the horse as he kept him still, I know what you can do. The horse pawed and fidgeted irritably but didn't fight otherwise, until Anthony let him go. The moment there was slack in the reins, he was off like a shot. The way he bounded forward with such power and speed almost made it seem like he was a quarter horse, not a thoroughbred. He bolted down the lane and instantly eased in to the rail, practically leaping through the air his strides were so long.

Not too far ahead of them now, another horse and rider appeared. Not wanting Tric to start anything with the other horse, he collected him slightly more to regain control, but Tric was obviously not pleased. He didn't like having one single horse in front of him, and anthony attempting to slow him down when he wasn't winning the race infuriated him. He grasped the bit in his teeth and plunged forward, fighting the hold with everything he had, but Anthony wasn't going to take it. This horse clearly had a lot of terrible manners and he intended to fix that. He reined him in, pulling him to the outside of the other horse and rider, not liking how Tric seemed to be aiming for the other horse which had now slowed to a trot. A jerk on the outside rein dislodged the bit from Tric's teeth and gave Anthony control back, and he sent him forward again. The pair surged past the horse and the girl, crisis averted, barely. Not too much further down the track Anthony started to slow him down. He didn't want to kill the horse, and he was a sprinter, so short distances were better for him. He let him continue at a long canter a bit further down the track then slowed him to a trot, then walk. By now his formerly white sleeve was a dark red with the blood that had come from the gash in his shoulder where Tric had bitten him, and all of those injuries he'd never let heal properly were aching from the effort that had to be put into stopping and controlling the horse... but it was a pain he was all too used to.

He waited a bit for the other rider to catch up to them, wanting to apologize for any trouble they might have caused the other pair. Apologizing for his horse was something he was quite accustomed to, and he never had any issue with doing so. Sorry about that back there. he said to the girl in his unusually strong Spanish accent as she and her horse caught up, He's got a bit of road rage these days. Road rage was a bit of an understatement, but he was sure she got the idea... after all, she'd seen it go down. Tric pinned his ears, but otherwise didn't react to the other horse. He was a racehorse that had been very poorly trained in his younger years, it was going to take a lot of work to fix him, but Anthony would do it, or die trying.