gather the ashes

Workout with Ashes to Ashes for Dubai Filly Cup

Ripley and Brooks grinned at one another as they stepped out of the truck and onto Green Horse Fields territory. They were coming back to the biggest arena on the biggest day with two of the most improved three year olds on the block. One would be running in the Dubai Filly Cup this week and the other would be waiting for his chance to shine in the Breeders Cup Dirt Mile and in Year Thirteen. Ripley had high hopes for both of the contenders, high expectations because the expectations had been high all year. She'd known she could turn the horses around and she had. With Brooks' help of course. She looked at the man who'd been her partner in crime for all of Year Twelve, from her uncertain comeback until she was returning to the top of crop again.

She reached out for his hand, smiling when he placed his hard worked hand in hers. They'd reached the top together. Her green eyes sparkled when he drew her hand up and kissed it. The move did not go unnoticed by the grooms in nearby stalls. They'd been taken in by the Witch Creek trailer parked in the middle of the lot. It had been a long while since Witch Creek had been stationed purely at Green Horse Fields. Since before Ripley had quit training for a year and took up modeling on the California circuit. Since before she was made a millionaire by a job so shallow Ripley still loathed to think about it.

It was six o'clock in the morning, prime training hours. Ripley and Brooks had all day to goof around at the prestigious track because everyone else was back home galloping the rest of the stock. However, training hours were restricted to a three hour period and training hours did not wait for anyone. Ripley quickly ducked down along the trailer, cheeks flushing red with more than just the cold. She hated public display of affection immensely, prided herself on remaining profession in public at all times. She was after all the owner of Witch Creek Stable.

She was at the rear door of the trailer and lowering it before Brooks had even moved from his spot. Brooks rapidly closed the distance when she scurried into the trailer. Ripley opened both gates to first Fiery Touch and then Ashes to Ashes, quickly handing Ashes lead rope to Brooks. The sleek 16.2 hand blood bay stepped off of the trailer like a king. He stood at the base surveying everything, all tacked up in his saddle. Brooks lead the Crooked Fire colt to the side of the trailer and unhaltered him. It had taken a while to train the colt to ground tie, but he did it better than most of them.

Fie was a horse that never could ground tie. No matter how hard Ripley tried, her current intense athletic brain simply would not allow for new lessons to sit. She jumped from the trailer, nearly yanking Ripley off of her feet. The Touch Up filly squealed and let loose a furious buck, stating that she was here and that she was feeling very, very good. Some grooms chuckled, smiles dimming when they noticed the unbelievable condition that Fie was in. Ripley led the filly around the trailer to stand side by side with Ashes, only she was tied to the bale and twine string.

Ripley swiftly picked out her feet, chastising her for moving constantly. Fie had been around the block a time or two, but she acted as if everything was happening for the first time. Victories could cause foolishness in a horse. Though why wins didn't seem to cause as much foolishness in the other horses, Ripley could not explain. It appeared as though it was just a trait belonging to Fie. Ripley patted the filly's taunt hide, admiring the dapples gracing her rump and the muscles that stood out on her chest. She was coming off three successive victories in a row, one of which had come over the grade one stallion FS Mockingbird. Fie was in nearly career form. Few other fillies would have managed such a feat.

But one of the toughest challenges was coming up next in the Dubai Filly Cup. They would be facing most of the old rivals from the Triple Tiara except the one big name: Paradise Island. The grade one steam roller was nowhere to be found at this point in time and for once Ripley was kind of glad at the absence of an opponent. But all of the old enemies were still there and all of them had improved over time. Arachne, Midnight Thriller and Eternal Phantom had all notched up grade. Arachne and Midnight Thriller, like Fie, were grade threes and El Sol del Mar's other daughter, Eternal Phantom, was a grade one. Winning Touch, current Witch Creek resident and newly made grade two, and Silverianna, winner of two of legs of last year's Triple Tiara, would be joining them as well.

Brooks could practically hear Ripley hemming and hawing her way through the Dubai Filly Cup. It would be an extremely tough race, but only because everyone had drastically improved. Just as Ripley had predicted during the Triple Tiara. Everyone had started catching up to the leaders and now the races would be tougher. But hey it made for some interesting action and the entire field would get recognition for being one of the toughest fields in recent memory.

Brooks patted Ashes cheek, grinning into the dark brown eye of his second full-time partner. They'd grown together over the year, going from Maiden to Grade Three was quite the feat to pull off. This would merely be a workout prep for the late December Breeders Cup race that he'd convinced Ripley to let him enter Ashes to Ashes in. So here he was trying to prove that he had done the right thing and was doing the right thing by the first son of Crooked Fire. He patted the three year old's neck, smiling into the bright eyes of his friend and swung aboard. Ashes backed up, head held high, nostrils flaring to take in the scents and smells. It had been a while since he'd been at Green Horse Fields to race.

Ripley could feel Fiery Touch tense up like a lion about to strike when Ashes backed away. She was ready to fly and challenge Ashes for whatever he had to give. The woman quickly fixed the filly's bridle on and swung aboard her prized dirt filly. She ran a hand down her gleaming neck, eyes glinting. She'd brought this filly back from mere third place toward winning the toughest races on the block. And this would be one of the toughest. She glanced at Brooks as they rode toward the GHF dirt track. When he quickly looked at her, she knew he'd been waiting for her to speak.

It's going to be a tough race for her. This race and the next two. She'll have to be ready and I know she is. You don't beat FS Mockingbird as a grade three unless you're really something. But it gets me that I don't really have a pre-race plan. She's versatile as can be and the problem is so does the dark horse Eternal Phantom. We know where everyone else is going to be sitting... We just don't know where Sunny's filly is.

Brooks shrugged, not surprised that Ripley would blurt out so much. He'd been expecting as much. When there was a conundrum Ripley was quiet until she couldn't hold back any longer. So maybe you just run with Eternal Phantom. You think she'll be the toughest then run with her. Fie can handle it. She's got a high cruising speed and a solid kick if Eternal Phantom hangs back there. You're a good jock. You don't need a plan every single time.

When I want a race as bad as this, I need a plan... But yours sounds very good. Winnie and Silverianna are going to be tough to beat... Reese has Winnie tuned to the nines. But Brooks I can feel good energy pouring off of Fie like water. Brooks nodded and patted her arm as they stepped onto the track. You'll figure it out Rip. No worries. So what do you have planned for today

A mile and a quarter gallop with a six furlong workout. Let's show them how good these guys have been. I like to put on a show now and then. Ripley nudged Fiery Touch into a swift jog, feeling out her long strides. She extended herself beautifully over the dirt track, enjoying the surface on which she'd just run only two weeks ago. Fie was one of the few horses at Witch Creek who carried their track everywhere they went. She found all of them to her liking and was really dangerous in most every race she ran in. Ripley patted the filly's neck eagerly, enjoying the smooth beating rhythm that danced beneath her.

Ashes helped to provide quite a picture of Witch Creek horses. He was rough and tough looking with muscles galore over his shoulders and rear. He had developed quite a bit over his three year old season both mentally and physically. Brooks wouldn't run the blood bay unless he felt confident that the horse could handle the new challenges. In the Backstrap Derby he had defeated one of the horses, Midnight Thriller, that Fiery Touch would be facing in the Dubai Filly Cup. Midtee had formerly been the workout partner to Ashes when she'd resided at Witch Creek. If that wasn't a sign of vast improvement, Brooks wasn't sure what was.

The pair of horses fell eagerly into their gallop, both of them powerhouses in their own right. It was strange that in all the time the pair of horses had been at Witch Creek that they had never faced each other in a gallop, let alone a workout. Their strides were long and strong with an oomph packed in for good measure. As per usual, Ripley and Brooks were completely silent in their work with the horses. They rode quite similarly and reveled in the quiet intensity that was racehorse focus.

Fiery Touch was like a gun powder keg waiting to explode beneath Ripley. The reins were taunt as she rounded the first turn, legs molding to the half-circle. Her eyes were wild and darkened with every large stride she took. The clockers wouldn't get anything on her due to her being on the inside of Ashes, but when they saw her from across the track, they had to admit the filly had held her late form very well.

She leaned into Ashes up the backstretch, muscling him around just like she did all of the rest. However, Ashes was just as interested in playing it rough and he put everything he had into fighting back. He shoved her down a path and nearly into the rail, but a burst of speed from Fie and a tug by Brooks had the colt straightening out and chasing after his filly stablemate. Ripley simply shook her head as Fie used the distraction as an excuse to break into a racing gallop. Her hooves beat rapidly over the track, exclamation points to emphasize her disobedience and defiance.

Brooks shook the reins, singing all the while in good ol' country music to get the Crooked Fire colt to take off. It worked. In seconds Ashes to Ashes was flying up the outside of Fie, engaging her in combat before it was even time. The daughter of Touch Up briefly loomed large, looking as if she was about to bury Ashes to Ashes in a cloud of dust. But a swift check down had the filly shutting down and staying put. Fie blew through her nostrils in pure frustration, glaring ahead as if she'd been insulted. Gradually, however, under intense pressure from Ripley, Fie relaxed and began to roll back into her long striding gallop.

Ashes' ears twitched and he lifted his knees high in an effort to break Brooks' lock on him. He was catching on to Fie's energy and all he wanted to do was run and not stop. His bright eyes flickered in Fie's direction and he seemed to be daring her to move with him. She wasn't taking the bait, however, because Ripley was still giving her the stink eye from her back. The filly needed to be able to listen if she was ever going to pull off a victory in the Dubai Filly Cup.

The horses stormed like punished children into the homestretch, Their movements were quick, violent and they had definitely brought attention to themselves. Fie pulled hard on the bit, plowing her head down and nearly ripping Ripley's arms out of her sockets. Ashes yanked his head up, lurching forward and bounding beneath Brooks like a rabbit. Ripley thanked God that the track here was a mile and a quarter rather than a mile. She couldn't imagine going around another half-circuit fighting this pair of bratty, headstrong horses. With a look at Brooks, Ripley opened the key to Fie's lock and set the filly's world on fire.

The light bay with thick blaze surged forward in a world of speed all her own, bringing a length and a half between herself and Ashes before Brooks got him into gear. Her body stretched out over the track like a Gumby doll and her ears pinned back into her black mane from the ferocity of her intent. Her hoof beats shattered the peaceful air as she flew and she had caught the attention of the clockers with her dramatic performance.

Brooks rolled his eyes. Goodness the filly had such a kick when she wanted to use it. He shook the reins once again at Ashes and finally the horse kicked into gear. He stuttered like he always did at the sight of dust hurling back at his face. Now though, the dust had cleared and all the blood bay colt could see was the opening to whip right on by Fiery Touch. He surged forward in a perfect combination of muscle and speed in time to make up enough ground on Fie that she wasn't completely alone. Ashes dipped his head and kicked into another gear, closing in on her rapidly around the turn. Both of them had to slow down on the turns with their big bodies or they would be drawn to the outside rail before they even noticed.

As soon as the turn molded into the backstretch, Ashes flew to become level with Fiery Touch. Her black rimmed ears hid themelves in her thick mane in anger at the sight of the blood bay horse. How dare he came at her like this? Her shoulder muscles rolled and she tested his grit by moving just a little ahead of him, daring him to come after her. Ashes took the bait and began to do battle again. He was a different horse now. He would not back away from this kind of challenge. With eyes fired up, Ashes put on a tremendous burst of speed to take the lead by three-quarters of a length.

Ripley put a soft touch on Fie's reins, crooning to her in an effort to calm her down. Surprisingly, the filly's ears flicked back first thing and she settled back down into a comfortable racing speed. They had three furlongs to go. Ashes was not going anywhere quite yet. Ripley backed the filly off and out from the rail, circling behind the well-muscled colt and swinging up on the outside. Fie loomed large this time up the backstretch though, being able to make full use of her large, for a female, physique. She dipped her head, glared at Ashes and settled in at the stirrup irons. Ripley grinned. A masterful move like that in the Dubai Filly Cup could very nearly win them the race. She could see it now, swinging up on the outside of Eternal Phantom in the homestretch if she was leading or closing and rapidly outdoing that opponent. Things were different now. Horses were a heck of a lot better than what they used to be.

Ashes could feel the hot-breath of Fie on his barrel, but he couldn't move. Brooks had him locked down, though not quite relaxed. He was on his game, remembering his workout with Cross My Heart where he realized that fillies could fight just as hard as the boys. He was waiting for Fie to strike like the rattlesnake she was. Brooks sang to him softly as they cruised through the fourth and nearly the fifth quarter. He himself was a little surprised at Ripley's tactics until he remembered she was trying to come up with a plan for the Dubai Filly Cup. He glanced over and saw the intensity in her witch green eyes. She wasn't even here. With a slim grin, Brooks faced front and then simply dropped his reins.

Ashes surged forward powerfully up the rail and back to the lead. His mane and tail whipped back like a powerful black cape and Brooks had to grab ahold for fear of falling over backward. The colt had a solid quick when he was ready to dish it out. Brooks heard the thunder of hoofbeats and looked to his outside in shock. Fie wasn't next to him, but two paths out. Ripley was glaring straight ahead. She had to have done that to avoid the dust cloud. It said a lot about Fie's agility if she move to the side and forward at the same time.

Brooks gritted his teeth, pushed down with his hands, knowing a move like that would be impossible to get out of Ashes. The colt liked to make a straight as an arrow run, to guide him to the side and expect propulsion would just be too much to ask. But Ashes could hear Fie and her thunderous hoofsteps. He listened to them with all of his might and pushed rapidly forward from within himself. He wanted to beat her badly.

Fiery Touch and Ashes whipped on another from two paths apart, beating each other senseless with the threat of taking the lead at any second. Their figures stormed over the dirt, running into the far turn and reached the end point of the race in the middle of the turn. Ripley and Brooks picked them up, slowing them down. Neither rider could say who was infinitely better and who had won this particular race without a camera or photo finish. But when the horses drew up, hardly breathing at all from their effort, you knew that you had a really good pair of horses. A good enough pair to take on the top races of the season.

Next stop Dubai Filly Cup.