Kent Kokoska, one of the SPCA officials working out of Kamloops who had come to see the rescue effort, said, “We were very pleased that such a huge undertaking had been accomplished in such a short time due to the compassionate efforts of the locals. It struck a deep chord with us. It is something we won’t forget any time soon.”
“If you own an animal,” said Debbie Goodine of British Columbia’s SPCA in Prince George, “and that animal is suffering, it’s your
responsibility to ensure that suffering is relieved.” She called the rescue effort on Mount Renshaw “a miracle.”
The story of Belle and Sundance had spread—through the Internet, through Facebook, through emails that skipped around the world. At the height of the rescue story, the sledders’ forum got fifty thousand hits. The role of technology in this story taking off could not be overstated, but when all was said and done, it was local people who literally came to the rescue.
Looking back, I marvel at all our good luck. The notoriously fickle mountain weather co-operated, offering a steady stream of cold, clear days. Had temperatures risen, the snow would have turned wet and heavy and the digging would have been that much harder on our backs and shoulders. Although the cold was a burden on both the horses and the humans up on that mountain, as each phase of the trench was completed, the deep freeze hardened the track. And though I wish we had arrived sooner, we were fortunate that the horses had survived the frigid temperatures long enough for us to discover them.
The one-kilometre-long trench allowed access for Belle and Sundance, but it might also have created a passageway for predators.
Yet no predators found them. No snow fell during the eight-day rescue operation, nor during the night, and we were spared those fierce mountaintop winds that might have filled in our trench in minutes. Some days, wind rocked the valley floor but not the mountaintop. Two days after the rescue was complete, both snow and wind returned and blithely swallowed up our trench.
The early days of the rescue were a muddle, with the right hand sometimes not knowing what the left was doing. But it all worked out; the little tensions, the politics and cliques that can divide a group and lead to argument all were quickly dealt with before they could amount to anything. The abiding sentiment was this: what’s best for the horses? Horses in a herd have to sort themselves out, and looking back, I can see that everyone involved in the rescue effort did the same. In fact, I was amazed at how people managed to put their differences aside. How virtual strangers formed an alliance. In a way, it was a blessing that we needed eight days to dig that trench and walk the horses out. Belle and Sundance were given time to begin gaining back the weight they had lost, to recover some of their strength, to get warm again thanks to blankets and hay. And the people working toward their rescue had the opportunity to bond.
One striking thing about this story is that it brought together three parties—those who love animals, those who love machines
and those who love both. The horse lovers had their pipelines: the telephone and email. The sledders had theirs: the Internet forum and Glenn Daykin’s shop. Over coffee, at Spin Drift’s long black counter, information (and misinformation) about the lost horses would be shared then spread around McBride and up and down the Robson Valley.
“People think sledders are rednecks,” says Barry Walline. “I get it all the time. A lot of people don’t like snowmobilers. But the sledding community did step up. What they did made the snowmobile community look good. More respectable than they’re commonly perceived. They made McBride look good.”
Ray agreed. “This wasn’t about the value of horses. You might get $75 for them at the meat plant. The rescue proved to the owner that the horses could be rescued.” This was a recurring theme among valley folk. That someone had left the horses on the mountain seemed to imply that getting them off was impossible. For locals, this was a challenge—a gauntlet had been thrown down, and the Robson Valley responded. When it later became clear around McBride that the owner of those horses had expressed doubt that anyone here would help him retrieve his animals, it was viewed as an insult.
Trudy Frisk, the author of an online column on a popular Canadian website called
cowboylife.com
, wrote eloquently about the rescue in a piece she called “It Takes a Valley.” Writing in January
of 2009, she remarked on the let’s-just-get-it-done attitude that governed what happened on the mountain:
. . . they hadn’t formed a committee, drafted a mission statement, applied for a government grant and ensured that the shovelling groups were gender balanced. They just voluntarily went out in the cold and dark, spending time and money to rescue two strange horses, horses which didn’t belong to them or to anybody they knew. Those who couldn’t actively dig supported the rescue in many other ways; the entire valley was involved.
Sundance, July 2010.
Belle, June 2010.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I
owe great thanks to my husband and best friend, Marc Lavigne, who was an incredible emotional support to me throughout the entire rescue of Belle and Sundance as well as the writing of this book. Marc read through the various stages of the manuscript and provided important feedback while helping me refresh my memory.
I am much indebted to my co-author, Lawrence Scanlan, who was fascinated by the story of the two rescued horses as soon as he heard it. Larry flew to Dunster to meet with me and many of the volunteers a few months after the rescue; he then worked tirelessly on the manuscript with me for almost two years. I wouldn’t have been able to write this book without him.
To my literary agent, Jackie Kaiser of Westwood Creative Artists, thank you for having a vision and believing in this story from day one. You opened up a whole new world to me.
Sincere thanks to everyone at HarperCollins: publisher Iris Tupholme, for her belief in this story; my editor, Kate Cassaday, for
setting the bar high; managing editor Noelle Zitzer and production editor Sarah Howden for keeping us all on track; copy editor Cathy Witlox for fine-tuning the manuscript; Lisa Bettencourt for her graphic design talents; and my publicist, Emma Ingram, for her guidance.
Sincere thanks goes out as well to everyone at the Perseus Books Group: my U.S. editor Merloyd Lawrence, senior project editor Annie Lenth, managing editor Fred Francis, publicist Lara Hrabota and art director Jonathan Sainsbury.
I would like to thank Kim Gilbeau, Gordon Jeck, Reg Marek, Frank Peebles, Glen Stanley, Carla Trask and Catie Ward for the use of their photos.
I thank my friend Monika Brown for never giving up on the two horses, even when they were believed to be dead, and for her emotional support throughout the entire rescue.
I would also like to thank Sara Olofsson for answering my desperate plea for help when I first found out about the two starving horses and for being a big supporter of this book from day one.
To my family, thank you for always believing in me and backing me in all my endeavours.
And last but not least, a heartfelt thank-you to everyone who participated in the rescue of Belle and Sundance, whether on the mountain or off it. There were more than fifty people—too many names to mention. Thanks as well to everyone who shared their stories. Without you, this book wouldn’t have come to be.
PHOTO CREDITS
Page 2: Birgit Stutz
Page 16: Reg Marek
Page 22: Glen Stanley
Page 34: Carla Trask
Page 57: Birgit Stutz
Page 59: Birgit Stutz
Page 67: Birgit Stutz
Page 70: Birgit Stutz
Page 73: Birgit Stutz
Page 75: Carla Trask
Page 88: Birgit Stutz
Page 90: Falling Star Ranch*
Page 92: Birgit Stutz
Page 94: Birgit Stutz
Page 98: Falling Star Ranch*
Page 100: Birgit Stutz
Page 115: Birgit Stutz
Page 131: Falling Star Ranch*
Page 133: Gordon Jeck
Page 140: Birgit Stutz
Page 142: Birgit Stutz
Page 144: Birgit Stutz
Page 151: Birgit Stutz
Page 155: Birgit Stutz
Page 157: Carla Trask
Page 159: Gordon Jeck
Page 162 (both photos): Marc Lavigne
Page 165: Carla Trask
Page 169: Carla Trask
Page 172: Marc Lavigne
Page 178: Carla Trask
Page 185: Frank Peebles,
Prince George Citizen
Page 191: Falling Star Ranch
1
Page 193: Catie Ward
Page 206: Falling Star Ranch
1
Page 209: Falling Star Ranch
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Page 214: Catie Ward
Page 215: Birgit Stutz
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
BIRGIT STUTZ, journalist, riding instructor and horse trainer, was a key member of the rescue team. She lives on Falling Star Ranch near McBride in northeastern British Columbia together with her husband, 13 horses, six cats and a dog.
LAWRENCE SCANLAN, based in Kingston, Ontario, is the author of several books about horses, including
The Horse God Built: The Untold Story of Secretariat, the World’s Greatest Racehorse
. His most recent book is
A Year of Living Generously
.
1
Pictures provided by Falling Star Ranch were photographed by various people using Birgit Stutz’s camera.
Copyright © 2010 by Birgit Stutz and Lawrence Scanlan
First published in Canada in 2010 by Collins,
an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher. For information, address Da Capo Press, 44 Farnsworth Street, 3rd Floor, Boston, MA 02210.
Cataloging-in-Publication data for this book is available from the Library of Congress
First published in the United States as a Merloyd Lawrence Book by Da Capo Press,
a member of the Perseus Books Group, 2012
eISBN : 978-0-306-82101-1
Library of Congress Control Number 2011938331
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