Virginia Beach marks end of horse trip across U.S.

In the lethal heat of the Nevada desert, locals left them buckets of water. When one horse went lame in Colorado, a stranger gave them a spare. The dog began following them Kansas - a stray who had no idea what she was signing up for.

After 4,000 miles, 10 states and 21 months in the saddle, Richard and Jeannette McGrath are riding through Hampton Roads on the last leg of a coast-to-coast trail ride.

As of this morning, they're just 10 miles from the final "whoa" - planned for Saturday around 1 p.m. - when their horses will sink their hooves into the saltwater off Virginia Beach.

"We're exhausted," Richard said. "All of us. Everything hurts."

Not many adventures are more difficult than they used to be, but traversing the country on horseback is one of them. Fences, interstates and privately owned land dice up the landscape, forming barriers to what was once a free-ranging way of life.

"I don't know of anyone else who's done it like this," Jeannette said. "Riding continuously, with no support vehicles, and carrying all their gear."

The McGraths, a Wyoming couple in their early 30s, mounted up nearly two years ago just north of San Francisco. They wet their horses' hooves in the Pacific, then set out for the opposite ocean, hoping to spur donations to build their dream: the Hearts Up Ranch, a Christian-based therapeutic retreat in Montana for emotionally traumatized teens, adults, war veterans and so on.

They had planned to splash into the Atlantic off Delaware but couldn't get police permission for their caravan - four horses, one mule and one mutt (now named Bella) - to cross the Annapolis Bridge on foot.

"We didn't want to trailer over it," Jeannette said. "We haven't cheated this whole trip."

Virginia Beach offered the next best avenue to the ocean. Their welcome, however, wasn't exactly hassle-free. Police have fretted about everything from their horses' manure to the legality of riding on city roads (it's legal unless otherwise posted).

The compromise: They're being escorted through our most congested areas, and a local horse-lover has volunteered to follow to scoop the poop. That's better than what happened in a town in Kansas, where a deputy was so irate over droppings in the street that the couple had to pick up piles with their bare hands.

Resilience and endurance have been crucial. The McGraths didn't expect their expedition to take nearly so long. Both are experienced riders, having spent their lives working with horses out West. When they quit their jobs in March 2010, they planned to be home in a year or so.

"But all plans went out the window by the second day," Richard said. "It was obvious that everything was going to take longer than we thought."

Moving at a walk - the best that can be managed with pack horses - eats up just 3 mph. Day after day, month after month, as the terrain changed and the seasons came and went, the tedious pace numbed bottoms and brains.

"But you don't miss much," Richard said. "You notice things you don't see when you're zipping along at 50 mph."

The mule and one horse, a stocky Icelandic pony, carry the bulk of gear and provisions, an inventory that's kept to a minimum to lighten the load. Fresh supplies arrive once a month when Richard's mother sends a package to a post office along their route. The horses are hobbled at night to graze. Rest days are taken every week or so.

"We had to shed 20 pounds of gear when Bella joined us," Richard said. "Dog food."

They say they're covering their own expenses, which they figure to be about $30,000.

"We worked for years to save the money to do this," Richard said. "We spent a year and half dehydrating our food."

So far, they've spent about as much money as they've raised. Donations, most made through their website (www.heartsupranch.com), haven't amounted to much more than $25,000 - a long way from their $2 million target.

"But I'm not worried," Richard said. "This is a faith walk. If there's one thing I've learned on this trip, it's that God will take care of the details. My wife and I, we don't have two pennies to rub together these days, and I don't care."

The journey had plenty of hardships. In the Rockies, Richard and two of the horses were banged up in a tumble off a cliff. In the desert, water holes were frighteningly scarce. In the Appalachians, coal trucks zoomed around blind curves, barreling right at them.

Both say they've learned much, as individuals and as a couple. They've ridden through snowstorms, sandstorms, hail and lightning, temperatures that sank below zero and soared to 120 degrees. Most nights were spent huddled in a tent. For two weeks in the desert, they saw no other humans. Rations have been bland and showers few and far between.

"Our low point came somewhere in Colorado," Jeannette said. "We were riding along screaming at each other."

They might have quit without the kindness of strangers - people along the way who offered them a night's sleep in a bed, or replaced gear that gave out or trucked buckets of water into the desert to ease at least part of that brutal leg. They picked up their spare horse for free near the foot of the Rockies after Richard's mount started to limp and his own feet were blistered from walking.

The end of the trail is unexpectedly bittersweet.

"This has taught me to have a peaceful attitude toward life," Jeannette said. "I just hope I can hold onto it when I get back home."

Speaking of home, the McGraths vow that every beast in their string - including Bella - will have a place for life with their family.

"They've earned that," Richard said. "They've given us everything on this trip."

What's the plan for getting everyone back to Wyoming?

"I have no idea," Richard said. "And I'm not worried."

Joanne Kimberlin, (757) 446-2338, joanne.kimberlin@pilotonline.com