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William's big ride for the Mail Tribune / Diane Stevenson William Schmidt rides a horse named Lucky in the state equestrian championships in Salem Tuesday. Though he didn't win, the feat was a dream come true for the 15-year-old and a story about overcoming the odds. William Schmidt had dreamed about this state horsemanship contest for most of his 15 years. With a lot of help, he made the trip. It turned into a day he and his mom will never forget. By DANI DODGE The trip to the 4-H western gaming state championships in Salem started early Monday morning when Cathy Hutchinson pulled her Plymouth Voyager van into William Schmidt's Ashland driveway. To William and his mom, Dian Brandenburg, the van was a Cadillac, ambulance and magic carpet ride all in one. Because Brandenburg could lie down in the back when necessary, it meant she could go to Salem to watch her son fulfill a nine-year dream and compete in the state equestrian championships. The dream came true only after kids, 4-H leaders and strangers came together - donating more than $2,000, a horse and their time to William and to his mother, who was critically injured July 20 when she tried to protect children from a runaway horse at a county fair 4-H event. "It's awesome," said William, a 15-year-old homeschooler who's suffered more than his share of setbacks but still has the confidence to wear puka shells with his cowboy hat. In the past three years, William lost his dad to a car wreck, and nearly lost his mother twice to heart problems. Then, William's horse, Shabar, strained his back a few weeks before the county fair. That's when the first gift arrived: Brittiany Todd, 13, offered to let William ride her horse, Lucky. "He's a really good friend," explained Brittiany. She qualified for state competition on another horse. But because of his mother's accident, which caused her to lose her summer income teaching computer skills at Rogue Community College, William's chances to go to state seemed dim. Like many other 4-H families, they are "horse poor" - living paycheck-to-paycheck and passing up new clothes and expensive meals so their kids can own a horse. "Having a horse gives the kids a sense of responsibility and they develop an unimaginable bond with the horse," Brandenburg said. "They use the horse as the release instead of drugs or alcohol. "I think it's what's given William his strength." On the road "Well, here we go," Brandenburg said as the van pulled up and William helped her up from the couch. Hutchinson's 15-year-old daughter, Nicole, took Brandenburg's arm and led her to the van as William carried the heavy cooler full of drinks and sandwich makings. The Hutchinsons caravanned with the Todds' truck, which towed the horses Brittiany and William would ride. Midmorning, they stopped at the Roseburg fairgrounds to allow the horses to run and eat. After William got Lucky out of the trailer, he went and got pain pills for his mother - showing off by throwing them in the air, swiping the hat from his head and catching them before they hit the dirt. The Wrangler badge Under the shade of trees, the three teens, Brittiany, Nicole and William, fawned over the horses while they talked about driving. William's aunt taught him to drive when he was 10 so he could take the wheel in case of emergency. He's mostly driven pickups on dusty private roads, but got his learner's permit three days after his 15th birthday so he could take his mother to doctor appointments. When he drives through Ashland, he blasts country music on the radio, just to let the yuppies and hippies know there are cowboys in their midst. The teens identify deeply with cowboy culture, coveting spurs like other kids covet Nikes and wearing Wrangler jeans like an identity badge. "We're hicks," said Nicole, a petite girl with a thick red ponytail that streams out of the back of a baseball cap. "In Ashland, though, it's not really accepted." Later and after much begging, Cathy Hutchinson let William drive the van to the rest room, but wouldn't let him get on Interstate 5. "Speed and a lot of luck" Several hours later, about 2 p.m., they pulled into the state fairgrounds, driving past fancy fifth-wheel horse trailers with team names painted on the side. William said he wasn't intimidated by the well-funded rivals, but he spoke less and less as the competition neared. William hopped out and began shoveling sawdust into the stable for his horse. Drops of sweat were falling from his face by the time his mother asked him for money to check into the hotel. By 4 p.m., the teens were in one room in the hotel, sprawled on king-sized beds planning strategy with Jonel Todd, Brittiany's mom, about the next day's events. "It's mostly speed and a lot of luck," Jonel Todd said. She won a medal at state 22 years ago. But the mood was light. John Todd, Brittiany's father, joked that he should duct-tape William's arms before the race so he wouldn't flap his elbows and slow himself down. "Hey!" William snapped back. "I'm trying to get frequent-flier miles." After a celebration dinner at Red Lobster, the teens and the Todds headed back to the fairgrounds, where William and Brittiany rode until 10 p.m., getting used to the contours of the arena in an eerie half-light. They didn't sleep until after midnight. "Just being with my horse" Tuesday morning, the Todds and the teens left the hotel before the complimentary breakfast was served. Much to his dismay, William was scheduled to be the first rider of the day. "I hate going first," he said. Brittiany, who wore all black, ironed William's new green-and-blue Wrangler shirt, a gift he got at his surprise birthday party while his mom was hospitalized. "He's got everything matching on his horse," his mother said. "He's never done that before. He always wanted a nice shirt and buckle, but this time the leggings match the saddle blanket." Western gaming is a sport made up of five events that involve running around poles or barrels. Wins are based on speed. Tuesday, 91 kids competed in the intermediate level - seventh, eighth and ninth grades. Many qualified for only one or two events, but William and Brittiany registered for all five. "For me, it's just about making the horse go as fast as it can and having fun," William said. But as Brittiany and other competitors rushed to put on their saddle blankets and tighten their cinches, William stood inside Lucky's stall looking out at the commotion. Lucky snuggled his big spotted head on William's shoulder. As John Todd shouted for William to hurry, William just stood there, allowing Lucky to quietly nuzzle his face. "I'm just being with my horse," he whispered. Warming up His mother, who had rented a wheelchair the night before, was wheeled onto the fairgrounds shortly before the first event. Some parents tried to photograph her, but Brandenburg hid her face. "I don't want to remember looking like this," she said. Because of her injuries, her wardrobe was limited to one pair of overalls and tube tops. Her hair was disheveled because she couldn't lift her arms above her shoulders, but a big smile broke through. "This is unbelievable," she said, watching her son warm up. "I'm so proud I can't see straight." William's words became more and more sparse. "He's afraid he's not going to do well enough," his mother confided. "There's no way in the world he would tell you." Then the riders filed out of the arena, getting on their horses and waiting to hear their names. "William Schmidt. No. 160," boomed out of the loudspeakers. "Go! Go! Go!" The first event was keyhole. Riders gallop across the arena through poles that are about 6 feet apart. Then they must turn around, go back through the poles and race to the start. The day before, a number of horses balked when they got to the poles. Others tried to jump them. As William rode into the arena, his mother gasped: "Oh, God." "Here we go, guys," she said under her breath. William nodded to his mother in the stands, then to the judge and then hit a dead run. "Go! Go! Go!" Brandenburg screamed above everyone else. Lucky slowed only slightly when he got to the poles, but then threaded through them without losing more than a second. He pivoted on his back hooves for a fast turn, and then raced back, tripping the timer at 13 seconds. It was a good run. Good enough for a red ribbon. William's mom got out of the wheelchair and walked to her son's side as he sat on Lucky. "I'm really proud of you," she said patting his leg. "You're doing great." William just smiled. Exhaustion Lucky was so calm, he and William were asked to lead the more nervous horses into the arena for their turns. During a 45-minute lunch break, William took one bite of a burger before his name was called. He threw the rest away. By the fourth event, racing around barrels, William's eyes were glassy. His times, though good, weren't as fast as his first. Brandenburg was so exhausted that they decided to pack it in for the day and head home. Just then, Brittiany's horse, Duster, who had won a blue ribbon in one event, started to limp. One of his horseshoes had rusted in the middle, broken and caused the horse's hoof to crack. Not wanting to hurt her horse, Brittiany quit also. By 4 p.m., William was eating his first meal of the day - a ham and cheese sandwich - while others fed the horses a fried bread called elephant ears. "It felt good to compete against the best," William said. "It was definitely an experience I'll always remember." As Brandenburg watched her son through glasses still scratched from her accident, she shook her head. "It took a lot of mind power for him to get here," she said. "Being here is a success, a big success - it's saying you worked hard and managed to do it. "I wouldn't have missed it for anything." Reach reporter Dani Dodge at 776-4471, or e-mail [email protected] Mail Tribune Home | Ottaway Newspapers, Inc. | Dow Jones & Co., Inc. | Privacy | Contact Us Copyright � 2001 Mail Tribune, Inc.