Do you possess, or are you possessed by, a red-carpet dream? For some, the fantasy could be actual stardom. Including, let’s say, acquiring a glittering star on that sidewalk by Hollywood Boulevard. (Just don’t let them stick yours down anywhere near Trump’s star – that wacko wildly swinging a pickax just might accidentally hack yours up, too.)
Dawn bleached shadows off the Sierra’s granite bones as horses in the Tevis Cup Ride trotted from the forest and into Squaw Valley.
The rugged and dusty mountain endurance race now known as the Tevis Cup Ride was born as an effort to resuscitate an Old West legend: the Pony Express.
Holding a halter, Gabrielle Mann walked toward Saint Patrick, who stood casually upon a hill at the ranch of financier Warren Hellman in Bolinas.
Many endurance horse competitions, seizing inspiration from the Tevis Cup Ride, have sprung up like mushrooms after rain. Yet still, the original is reckoned the world’s supreme test of strength, stamina and will.
