When a great racehorse reaches the end of a life, the course of the lifespan he or she had can remind one of a quote that a racehorse is the only horse that can take thousands for a ride at the same time.

When Denali Stud announced that Serena’s Song passed away peacefully, having nearly reached the actual thirty-fourth anniversary of her foaling, which would have been in April, part of their tribute to her and the tremendous life she lived brought to mind that impact she had on a multitude of racing enthusiasts, myself included.

Knowing that she had long held the grand title, well-deserved, of Queen of Denali Stud definitely showcased the esteem she was always held in there, and what a privilege everyone there felt it was to be her retirement home for each year of her life once she left the racetrack.

When I read their tribute to her, a cascade of memories flowed through my mind. I could see that the same must have happened when the farm wrote their tribute as well.

While I had not spent as much time in her company as they had, naturally, thanks to the graciousness of Denali Stud, visiting Serena’s Song was an opportunity they were glad to offer.

I still remember that I first got to visit her in 2010, when the World Equestrian Games were held in Lexington, and in conjunction there were a lot of special events that were horse-related happening throughout central Kentucky. At that time, I thought visiting Denali and seeing Serena’s Song would only happen then, and only because of the World Equestrian Games.

That definitely meant I savored the moments seeing her. At that time, she was still in her active broodmare years but since it was fall that year’s foal had been weaned. I recall the tour guide saying the filly she had was anxious, as a weanling can be, but Serena’s Song was ready for the time to herself again.

I don’t recall when I next saw her – while I don’t remember specific dates or years, as part of that cascade of memories made possible by Denali opening their gates to her fans, the visits and time in her presence are fresh in my mind. I too always felt like it was a privilege to be near her.

One of the first times I got to stand close to her, I learned that peppermints kept her happy and helped her be less inclined to get impatient with standing still. She was always a horse with a strong will – and I admire that. No doubt it had a lot to do with why she was so successful on the racetrack, and why so many of her progeny left their mark on racing as well. I could imagine it even had a bearing on her long life, along with the care she received at Denali.

I remembered a time visiting her with a friend, one spring when the Keeneland meet was in full flow. When I stood alongside her then, I found a spot on her side near her withers where she wanted to be scratched and it was evident how much she enjoyed that. Doing something she loved for her also felt like a gift.

Now and then I would send her peppermints as the time of the anniversary of her actual foaling date approached, wanting her to have more of what she enjoyed.

And thinking of it being a privilege to be near her, once a groom who handled her during a visit when it was just me offered her lead rope so that just I was handling her for that part of the visit and for photos. I thought then of the years watching her on TV, and it was incredible to realize that the horse I only saw through a TV screen when I never knew I’d one day live in Kentucky was now one I was given the chance to handle myself. I love farm visits with retired horses because getting to know what they are like and their temperaments is best revealed when they are at a farm and one-on-one contact is possible, when they’re not focused on racing. That day handling Serena’s Song showed me so much of who she was. She was not mean, just sure of what she wanted, and she danced a bit at the end of the lead rope. Standing still was not what she wanted to do, and I could feel her energy through the line that connected us.

There are many reasons I know she will always have a place in my heart. The days I got to know her more than articles or race broadcasts could ever reveal are a lot of those. I am awe of the age she reached, and how she excelled as a racehorse and a broodmare, and a horse who touched people’s lives. She was truly a singular individual, and I am grateful for her life.

Today I saw a video on Facebook of a jockey who did a voiceover from a race he had ridden in, to share what he was thinking during the running of the race. It was an interesting immersive insight into those moments and it reminded me how all-encompassing the love of racing can be for me.

Having moved away from Kentucky, where that’s not as much a part of my life as it once was, I can tend to forget. Maybe a bit of me is needing a little distance for what I don’t get to experience as directly anymore. 

With the past few years leading to a lot of change in my life to adapt to, for that one pure moment of essentially riding along with the jockey and it just being about him and the rapport between the horse, it reminded me of what is at the essence of why I love racing.

This seems like an especially appropriate day to have seen that video as I reflected on the life of Afleet Alex and what he meant so many people.

I saw a quote a while back that a racehorse is one of the few that can simultaneously take thousands of people along for a ride at the same time. These horses definitely have an enduring presence upon anyone that they reached in any way.

Afleet Alex’s story and career are well-known and well-covered. What I want to focus on here are my own memories of him as a personal tribute.

Two of my most enduring memories of time with him are one day when I went to several farms having open houses and a day in the summer of 2022.

I don’t remember the year of the first one, but it was most likely in January of whatever year.  The unexpected part was that many of the grooms at the open houses were willing to give me a little more personal time with some of the stallions, unprompted.

Afleet Alex’s groom opened his stall door during that visit to Gainesway and let me come in the stall with him. When a friend accompanying me took a photo of me in the stall with Afleet Alex, he had good timing to open his mouth in a yawn so wide it looked like a laugh. That is a very amusing photo. It looks like I told him a good joke!  

My most recent visit with Afleet Alex was at the end of June 2022.

By then, I knew that I was likely moving out of Kentucky that year and I wanted to make certain to see him one more time.

I thought the odds of me returning to Gainesway for a visit after that were probably slim or would happen so sporadically that with him being an older stallion, it would be hard to say he would still be there on that as of yet unknown future visit.

So I lingered near him and took some video and a photo, just soaking in who he is.

I did write about that visit on my blog and how the person doing the tour commented what a good natured horse he is and it was always evident.

Even though that visit was not quite in July, it was a beautiful summer day with a lot of flowers in bloom and I found the peace time in nature and with horses often brings me.

When I left the farm, I was remembering a line from a Paul Simon song about “sweet July, and we drove the Montauk Highway.” 

Even though I was not anywhere near the Montauk Highway, the sweet July part and driving through areas where farms are brought that lyric to mind.

I’m glad that Afleet Alex had a life well-lived and that I was lucky to have many times to visit him over the years.

He will indeed be an enduring presence in the memories of many people who love racing and spent time with him.

When the news reached horse racing publications that D. Wayne Lukas was facing serious health issues and elected to refuse aggressive treatment so he could live out his remaining time with his family,  it was the day after a multitude of my own family members and I had gathered for a memorial service for my grandmother.

She too had chosen not to pursue aggressive treatment, given her age and that the chance of success was limited and the side effects would be harsh. 

Perhaps people born in 1935, as she and Lukas were, shared similarities shaped by the time they grew up in. While my grandmother didn’t live a high-profile life to the wider world like Lukas did, I can see some parallels in the lives they lived.  One of those was the differences they made in people’s lives that will ripple outward beyond their lifespans. For Lukas, it was in the assistants he mentored who went on to be trainers, and how he was open to giving young people access to racing, to potentially instill the love of it to the next generation. For my grandma, it was through the many people she helped in her career as a social worker, a profession that was definitely her calling, and in her steadfast love for her family.

Bob Baffert described Lukas as an optimist. That was in my grandma’s nature too. She was stoic and determined, and grew up in the same challenging time Lukas did, during part of the Great Depression and through World War II. There were significant challenges during that time for sure, and some deprivation, yet I never heard my grandma complain about it or her life in general. The closest I ever heard her come to complaining was saying she would never eat turnips again for the time when that was one of the few foods her family could get, and she never had a taste for them.

Lukas also carried a determination that saw him rise to the top of racing’s ranks, and as many have mentioned,  change the nature of the sport in his own way, a way that other trainers emulated. 

He was not without controversy over the years, to be sure,  but he still carried on, and this is not the space to address that.

I would rather share some of my own perceptions of him, and how he evoked a sense of awe for his accomplishments.

When I started watching horse racing on TV in my childhood, Lukas had already become a major force in the racing world. It was inevitable to learn about him. I watched my share of kids’ shows, but in some ways I also grew up watching stellar horses of the late ’80s and early to mid 1990s, as well as the trainers that dominated the sport during those years and beyond. 

That meant when I finally went to Kentucky, I was in awe to stand near and interact with the horses I’d only seen on TV before that. As I’ve recounted before,  that was all it took for me to know Kentucky was where I wanted to live. 

It was several years after I moved there that I first was in proximity to Mr. Lukas. I had gone up to Turfway Park from Lexington and at one point as I stood on a balcony near some stairs leading to the ground level, Lukas also came along and stood right by me for a few moments.  The “pinch-me” feeling was in full effect, much as it had been when I couldn’t believe I was standing near and feeding a peppermint to Charismatic during my first visit to Lane’s End.  Yet it was even stronger with Mr. Lukas standing nearby. His level of achievements in racing at that point had easily catapulted him to legend status long before,  and in some ways it felt like standing in the presence of racing royalty. He never considered himself as such, I’d wager, but at that moment that’s how it felt to me.

I read later he would invite kids into the winner’s circle after a horse from his stable won, doing all he could to help the next generation potentially foster an interest in racing. I’m sure he would have been glad to speak to me that day at Turfway,  but it never occurred to me. I’m not even sure what I would have said. It was enough to be there. 

A few years after that, I was in Saratoga to write for the Saratoga Special. I had a great assignment that gave me free rein to talk to a multitude of people on the backside. 

I found an opportunity came my way to speak to Lukas, and I grabbed it. I’ll never forget how gracious and charming he was in that brief interaction. I’ve had limited opportunities (not for lack of enthusiasm) to be professionally involved in racing, so even a short time to speak to one of racing’s greats stands out in my memory.

When Mr. Lukas donated a lot of his trophies to the Derby Museum, so many that they built a separate wing for them, it was a concrete example of the mark he made on racing, a visual right before the eyes of all who visit.  For me, it also showcased how racing trophies can reveal some of the very history of racing.

Of course, his legacy lingers deeper than trophies. It is in all the trainers he mentored,  and in the way his mode of operations generally became a standard in the larger stables trainers have.

And for me, it is in two more ways. It is in the inspiration I found in seeing him realize a pinnacle with both Oxbow and Seize the Grey in the twilight years of his racing career. That speaks to me, to see there’s no time limit on success if the desire and work ethic are there.

The other way his legacy lingers to me is with a horse that won’t even be a footnote in Mr. Lukas’ illustrious career, but stands out to me. Through MyRacehorse, I was able to invest in Caldera, a young colt that Lukas tried to steer to the Kentucky Derby this year. While that didn’t pan out,  he was still one of the last horses Lukas trained, and it meant a lot to me to hear his insights about him and the way he wanted to train him. 

I seem to recall Lukas once said he’d die on the track with his pony beneath him,  and when I told that to my mom, she said it meant he would go doing what he loved.

As the years advanced, Lukas did indeed keep accompanying his charges to the track on his pony, and it actually seemed incongruous when he started using a cane to walk. Even knowing his age,  his vibrant personality made it seem at odds. 

As a side note, that was how it was in my grandma’s later years too. She was such a fighter, so determined, to see age show its mark didn’t quite compute.

D. Wayne Lukas really did come close to staying at the track until the end, only walking away a few weeks before he passed peacefully with his family at his side on June 28.

I know from the vigil at my grandma’s side in her last days, it is hard to watch a loved one fade away, but it is also a gift to be able to surround them with love as they pass through the transition out of this life. 

Over time, I hope his family and all who knew him personally find peace in the memories. I know that takes time.

Tonight, I noticed a sunflower growing where I had tried to plant one several times from a seed I harvested from flowers I grew in Kentucky. It had been growing for quite a while when I saw it this evening, since it was tucked away by a bush and the tall remnants of a tree trunk.

Sometimes,  even when life feels a little heavy, it has ways of showing us the beauty in it. I hope one day, when they’ve had time for their grief to ebb a little,  Lukas’ family sees that too.

Rest in peace to a towering legend of the sport. I know his legacy will endure. 

Recently, I started the spring session at a therapeutic horse center called Small Miracles that provides trauma-informed care. What I had anticipated was horseback riding; indeed, the application for the session had indicated that. When I arrived and spoke to the executive director of the center for her to gather insight into what direction my sessions at the would take, her assessment was that riding was not ideal for me with my physical limitations. I concurred, even though someday I hope to be in a better physical position to ride again someday.

What she decided instead of me riding was that I needed to leave the day’s session with a sense of accomplishment, a degree of agency that I felt like trauma had taken from me.

I met some volunteers, and then a pony who stood about waist-high to me. Her name is Phoenix, and she is 19 or 20 years old. She had been through some trauma in her life, and it took time to get her able to be comfortable with people again and what life may bring her way. It took a lot of patience, I’m sure, and that is what any traumatized individual of any species needs.

I started getting to know Phoenix by letting her sniff my hand, and then scratching along her withers and back to let her know we could build a connection based on what she likes. After the introduction, myself and the volunteers began leading her around the arena at the direction of the center’s executive director.

Because I’ve had some cognitive issues with short-term memory and processing information since a life-altering accident nearly four years ago, it was a bit overwhelming to be in a new environment, surrounded by strangers, and trying to process and follow directions. At the same time, the exercise was designed to help me work through some of those and achieve the objective of carrying out the directions, which I did.

It’s a learning process how trauma has affected my brain, because it pops up in situations that are not difficult to think through in ways I never had difficulty with before. After a little while of following directions, I got to choose myself which way the team of people, Phoenix, and I would turn.

Wrapping up the session, the director said I did a good job. I heard the words and acknowledged them. Everything that had overwhelmed me still lingered and made it hard to see how I had done a good job. That is one thing trauma can do. It can burden the brain with such a sense of being overwhelmed that it’s hard to register anything else, even after the overwhelming moments have passed.

When we came to stop in the arena, I put my arms around Phoenix at the behest of the executive director, closed my eyes and listened to her breathe. It was like meditation, but maybe better, because it was about a healing connection and it involved the scent of horse that I’ve always loved. Perhaps in that moment Phoenix felt me soften and be open to feel what she felt, to know I was finding peace in that hug that might have infused her too.

When I released my light grasp of her and stood up, strong emotion caught me off guard. I felt raw and vulnerable, realizing how broken I felt from trauma and how I usually don’t realize it – something swept under the rug as I keep trying to navigate life and that doesn’t leave space for being a little or a lot broken from trauma. I still have moments I can’t handle things at work or in other spaces like I once did, even if it doesn’t allow space to really do that. That is when I dissociate, I’m sure.

In those moments hugging Phoenix, I didn’t have to pretend I’m okay. I didn’t have to pretend everything’s fine. That is when I was able to connect with how raw the trauma still is. It is uncomfortable to feel such a raw feeling, soul-scathed. Yet I think it shows me there is still work to do and over time will show me the path to catharsis. I can’t say if I will ever fully be the same mentally, but what I am hoping for is to be a little more like who I used to be and to heal more than I have.

I walked away from that one session knowing the connection with Phoenix reached me deeper than any traditional therapy session has, because it is so much easier to be raw and real with animals, and it doesn’t need words. That is why it runs more true. It is a soul to soul connection, and I am grateful to Phoenix already and also empathetic she has gone through trauma in her life.

Later, I spoke to my mom about the time with Phoenix and that she too had gone through trauma. My mom said Phoenix and I will help each other. That is so true. Maybe she will help me more than I will help her, but I am open to letting her know I care with no holds barred and I do believe that reached her.

I am glad this organization exists. I look forward to going back, and I am so glad to have time with horses again that has been so sporadic since I left Kentucky, even if so far the horse was in pony form – still a member of the equine family, of course!

Small Miracles has such a fitting name. It truly is a little miraculous after so long feeling shut off from the life I had and the me that I knew, I can see how I can start to repair that break, one little moment around horses at a time. Horses have always been therapeutic to me even before my accident; I’m glad I found a place that understands their importance in healing those who have gone through trauma, as well providing a safe landing for horses who had tough situations.

Caldera is a feature of a volcano created after an eruption, and also a promising three-year-old colt trained by D. Wayne Lukas and sired by Liam’s Map. Another meaning of Caldera, as it relates specifically to the colt, is hope.

This hope grew in leaps and bounds when the lightly raced colt was second to the more-experienced Getaway Car in the Sunland Park Derby. It was Caldera’s first stakes attempt and also a step forward in the pursuit of seeing if he was a good candidate to embark on the Derby trail. That race result yielded multiple reasons to laud Caldera.

First, he was only a nose behind Getaway Car at the finish after running wide due to his outside post position. Second, he and Getaway Car were nine lengths ahead of the third-place finisher, indicating they were much the best in that race. Third, he and Getaway Car both earned the same Equibase Speed Figure of 99.

I invested in Caldera several months ago through MyRacehorse, eager to have a horse trained by Lukas and hear his insights into training and this colt as well, a chance I would not have if not for my investment. Lukas has said for some time that he thinks Caldera has the potential to be a good racehorse, and I was so proud of him for his finish in the Sunland Park Derby. He showed he is a serious racehorse and that opens up a lot of possibilities and it is exciting to think of what his future might hold.

While the Sunland Park Derby second place finish did not give him enough points to qualify for the Kentucky Derby, it achieved what it was meant to do. It showed us that Caldera can keep moving forward after he took a big step up.

For me, personally, after a lot of physical challenges that continue to get worse and make life and my mental state difficult, the Sunland Park Derby felt like a lifeline. I needed something to look forward to, and Caldera showing he could stand his ground well against a more experienced contender sent my hope soaring. While I invested because of Lukas, Caldera himself is becoming the best part of the offering too. It’s what one could always hope for a racehorse investment, that they show they are capable of moving forward to major achievements. 

Wherever he goes from here as he keeps trying to progress to better races, I am glad to be a small part of Caldera’s journey and get to cheer him on in his races. It should be a fun ride!

Standing at the rail at several points over the last three days of the fall meet, and walking the grounds of Keeneland as I so often did when I lived in Kentucky, it struck me more than ever how the races there attract all generations. Two moments in particular that stood out to illustrate that. One was when a young girl and her mother were waiting near me for a race to begin. The daughter asked the name of the horse in that race they had picked. The mom replied, “Sugar Bell.” The daughter said she liked that name, and the mom answered, “Me too.” It was a simple exchange but it meant so much at the same time – two generations sharing the love of racing at a showcase racetrack, and that all of us present were there in the late fall sunshine and warm temperatures to soak it all in. It meant so much that I got to return and experience it all again.

The other moment that resonated the most of multiple generations experiencing a day at the races in this pastoral setting was when the annual tradition of the Headless Horseman saw a rider on a black horse go past the crowds gathered at the rail between races. A baby, likely less than a year old, looked to the horse going by and after a few moments patted her head as she looked at her mom. It was an adorable moment of her trying to express that she noticed the rider’s head was not visible.

During the three days I had at Keeneland, as I looked around the track and at the framework of the new structure overlooking the paddock, I could see how it too would be in keeping with the timeless appeal of the track and closer to completion be decorated with stones to have it blend in with the other Keeneland structures on the track side to look like it had always been there. That is one of many things I have always appreciated about Keeneland – that even when it embraces innovations or changes the layout of the area around the track for patrons, it still retains its charm.

When the races wrapped up and I went to the airport to go home, I paused before getting on the plane to soak in one last moment of Keeneland appreciation until the next time I returned, looking at the advertisement on the wall that did highlight its motto “for the love of the horse… for generations to come,” with that foundation set by the families that come like the mother and her daughter that picked Sugar Bell, and with the new structure being built, but yes of course most of all for that love of the horse that even meant a name like Sugar Bell created a momentary affection.

When the plane I was on rose over the airport, Keeneland suddenly appeared beneath us. It was quiet. The races had concluded until April, and it was lovely in the quiet hush of gathering twilight. I was grateful to have one more glimpse of those grounds I love. I was grateful I got to return, and grateful they have that commitment to racing for generations to come. It will endure, and I will be back. Someday.

A few more photos from my time at the fall meet:

Since I still get revenue from Authentic’s stud fees as part of the deal Spendthrift Farm worked out with MyRacehorse investors in the Derby winner, I included the first of his progeny I got to see race. They competed against one another in a maiden race for two-year-olds on October 25.

When eight horses loaded into the gate for the Preakness on May 18, Derby winner Mystik Dan was among them after trainer Kenny McPeek initially wasn’t inclined to run the colt, having noted he previously hadn’t turned in a good race with a quick turnaround. But when he bounced out of the race well, giving him a shot at the Preakness didn’t seem like too much of a stretch. And indeed, Mystik Dan ran a good race, but he could not reach Seize the Grey before the wire.

It was a marquee victory for all involved. Jockey Jaime Torres had only been riding for a short time. Not only was this his first appearance in a Triple Crown race and subsequently his first victory in one, it was also his first Grade 1 win. Quite a race to achieve that milestone in!

For D. Wayne Lukas, Seize the Grey’s victory gave him the distinction of being the oldest trainer to win the race. In a interview for the Kentucky HBPA’s YouTube channel a few days after the race, he wondered something to the effect of whether that was a great accolade. I am sure it was meant as such – speaking still to how age doesn’t matter when it comes to having honed a lifetime of acumen with preparing horses for top races.

For MyRacehorse, Seize the Grey is the first horse the entity 100% owned to win a classic race. Authentic, of course, won the Derby in 2020 with them along for the ride as a minority owner – and while that didn’t diminish the thrill of a singular victory, having one in the stable that was all theirs was another feather in the cap.

Perhaps it is the confluence of factors that led to young Torres being connected with racing in general and then some of Lukas’ horses that is the most compelling. Lukas clearly saw his potential and promise long before the Preakness, or no doubt he would not have the mount for that race.

Torres, naturally, was interviewed quite a bit by racing publications following the Preakness, where he recounted what led him to turn to racing as a profession. He was initially captivated seeing races on TV and then live at the track in his native Puerto Rico, which he mentioned in the moments on live TV immediately after winning the Preakness as he rode towards the winners’ circle. Later, in a print interview, he mentioned always being drawn to horses. The seeds were sown early for the path that lead him to this pinnacle achievement at Pimlico.

When he turned that passion to the pursuit of a career aboard horses, he learned from a top jockey colony. I could relate to always being drawn to horses, to the point of thinking that must be a calling. What he said about learning from a competitive jockey colony brought to mind what Rosie Napravnik once said – that the opportunity to learn from them, even just by observation in races alongside them, was instructive and necessary to further hone her own riding skills. Recalling that, it is clear such experience helped boost Torres’ own career.

Listening to Lukas speak in the post-Preakness press conference, he mentioned advice he had given Torres and also that he had not hesitated to call him out on a poor ride once. It was clear then the role of Coach was still one that was innate to him, and it was interesting to hear him discuss advice that could pertain to life in general, not just riding races. One was, “Do more than you think you can do, and be better than you think you can be.” I believe too we all can sometimes push ourselves a little more than we think and do better than we think, and maybe hearing that is possible from an outside perspective brings it all in focus.

With all those threads that combined to lead Seize the Grey to Preakness glory, the horse himself turned in a great effort, wire-to-wire, and never once faltered. It was beautiful to see that he would not be collared even when for a moment one wondered if Mystik Dan would catch him. When Mystik Dan wasn’t able to catch up to Seize the Grey, the dreams of a young jockey and 2,750 investors through the My Racehorse platform were realized, maybe even more than they had dared hope for but still wished would be.

Even as Lukas is not about to hang up his hat anytime soon, it is wonderful to think of how he has mentored multiple new generations to be involved in racing, to carry on the tradition and that too is already part of his vast legacy in the sport, with his latest protege of course being Torres.

Seize the Grey is expected to go on to contest the Belmont Stakes at Saratoga. The chance to carry on the dream continues!

During the NBC broadcast of the 150th Kentucky Derby on May 4, they showcased some of the tremendous history of a race of that longevity. There was Carl Nafzger telling Mrs. Genter so emotionally that her horse Unbridled was winning the 1990 edition, still fresh after all these years for being from a time when people didn’t think about cameras being ever-present. It being unscripted, so to speak, is what makes it resonate. They also showed highlights of Cody’s Wish’s racing days, which go hand-in-hand with the bond he had with the young man Cody Dorman. Although Cody’s Wish never ran in the Derby, he did find success at Churchill Downs and his story was another in the vein of what horses can mean to people that transcend even victories, how they touch one’s heart. Unbridled remains a special horse to me to this day for that stirring moment when Carl Nafzger and Mrs. Genter were swept up in his achievements, and Cody’s Wish engendered the same sentiment to many. Even during the broadcast, as his story was recapped, the racing reporter narrating was clearly holding back tears to remain professional. That is the power these horses can have, when there is a chance to connect one-on-one with them. I was glad they took time to note that and discuss more than betting trends.

Randy Moss mentioned that while racing has seen its appeal wane, the love for big events in this country endures.

The brief walk through some of those years of Derby history and how the Churchill Downs facility has changed over the years had me reflect on my own personal memories at that track on that day for the Derbies I attended from 2008 to 2019. The most enduring still remains standing on the turf course to watch the marquee race when Nyquist won. It was amazing to be in a spot so few watched from, on a day when massive crowds were almost everywhere. It was incredible to get the best visual of what such an enormous number of people filling the grandstand looks it. But best of all was seeing Nyquist run home triumphantly on that Derby day, because the BloodHorse team and I during the course of my internship had followed him during his training at Keeneland. I came to think of that as Nyquist Watch, and indeed to almost feel like an honorary member of his barn. When he won, it felt almost like my horse won and I was elated to see him reach the lead as he sped by my spot and never relinquish it.

As usual with a Derby, there were a multitude of intriguing storylines. For this one hundred and fiftieth renewal, trainer Larry Demeritte was fulfilling a dream by reaching the Derby with a horse he trained. Bahamas-born and from a family of racing professionals, he brought West Saratoga as his contender. Interestingly, the horse had a bloody shoulder mark I had only before seen in Arabians – perhaps a throwback to those long-ago ancestors. Keith Asmussen, son of trainer Steve, was riding in his first Derby, aboard the D. Wayne Lukas charge Just Steel. That horse represented Lukas’ fiftieth Derby starter. Dornoch, a full sibling to Derby winner Mage, had a chance to give his dam Puca the distinction of being the only mare to produce two Derby winners. Those are just a handful of the horses and connections garnering attention. My pick to win, Sierra Leone, was in with a chance to give his already-illustrious sire Gun Runner a Kentucky Derby winner.

When the race began, in the usual mad rush of the large field, it took most of the race before I could pick out Sierra Leone among the throng. Mystik Dan had a great trip on the rail under Brian Hernandez, Jr. Sierra Leone charged outside in deep stretch, in a battle with Forever Young. Mystik Dan never stopped trying and when they reached the wire, that trio had finished so close together it was hard to say for certain who had won. Brian Hernandez, Jr. watched the replay intently once the race was over and elation spread over his features. He seemed pretty sure he had won, and indeed he had. I was still proud of Sierra Leone, whose sire is one of my favorite fairly recent runners. He had come wide, been bumped and still came up short by only a nostril. While that could be disappointing for some to see him come so close to Derby glory, to me it showed he is still a talented racehorse and there should be future glory for him to claim. Forever Young made a proud showing for his Japanese connections too, finishing third. He and Sierra Leone actually share a second dam Darling My Darling.

It was a thrilling race, fitting to mark the occasion of its 150th running. It did indeed carry on the tradition of how a horse can touch a person’s life. Brian Hernandez’ elation after winning the race was wonderful to see. It was the first Derby victory for someone who has always struck me as a good rider from years of seeing him at Keeneland, and Mystik Dan’s trainer Kenny McPeek also notched his first Derby win. To top it off, the pair had also won the Oaks the day before with Thorpedo Anna. It was a great day of racing all around. Kudos to the newest Oaks and Derby winners and their connections!

I was fortunate to return to Kentucky for a few days to catch the last days of the spring meet at Keeneland, at a track that is so familiar it still feels like home in many ways.

There were a few changes for this meet, most caused by the new construction project in the works that saw the building that housed the jockeys’ quarters and administrative offices torn down, to make way for a larger and grander building that promises to provide new views of the horses in the paddock. It seems, from what I see of the drawing of the finished product, that it will take the place of temporary chalets that stood overlooking the paddock for several of the Breeders’ Cups Keeneland hosted.

For now, it meant the primary entrance which leads directly to the track apron was unavailable, but other than that for patrons much was the same. Keeneland retains its timeless charm well, even as it innovates. It was good to be back.

I was thrilled to see Jena Antonucci, not a lot of time gone by since she and Arcangelo stood in the winners’ circle at the Belmont Stakes. That historic victory was my introduction to her and her philosophy with horses, and it was an introduction – even through a phone and TV screen – that I was glad to have. Subsequently, I admit I was a little starstruck seeing her saddle a horse in the paddock for the first race I was there for that late April day, fresh off the plane at the airport a short distance from the track. Her horsemanship was evident as the feisty two-year-old she saddled was tacked up on the walk and even required a pony to try to be a calming influence.

The usual rhythm of the race days flowed – the cadence of race calls, the excitement of the crowd, getting a chance to pat famed pony Harley when he was brought over to the rail between races. I had missed the 100th Blue Grass Stakes, won by Sierra Leone, but I soaked in the history of that marquee race in the Keeneland Library’s exhibit reflecting its highlights. With the exception of the time the track was closed to the general public in 2020, even though I have moved away, I am glad I have kept a streak of spring meet attendance intact, attending the spring meet since 2006. It matters, for a track that I love and to be a touchstone of continuity when so much about my life has changed. I guess that is one way a person can go on, by finding those touchstones.

Keeneland featured an interview on their YouTube channel recently with Jill Babe, chef for the jockeys, who has been there for 60 consecutive race meets. She perfectly summed up how I feel about being there when she said, “When you come here, you feel like you’re at home… I want to come here forever. It just puts life in your body. It’s me. It’s part of me, and I hope I always feel that way, and I know I will.”

I couldn’t have said it more perfectly. After watching the horses train one morning and soaking in the peace of the surroundings and another afternoon of racing, the book closed on another meet. It is definitely not just the track that blossoms. It is the people and the horses too. It is a great interlude in the hustle of life, to sit by a rail and watch the horses go by.

While Giant’s Causeway was marketed as an iron horse, I believe Serena’s Song is a strong contender to have that title among Thoroughbred mares. The Hall of Fame inductee and 1995 champion three-year-old filly raced 38 times. Even in the mid-90s, that was not common for horses competing in the top tier races, and through the years since has become even less likely. When retired to become a broodmare, she had a multitude of foals back-to-back, barely missing a year. And on April 4 this year, she achieved another milestone of seeing the thirty-second anniversary of her foaling date. She is indeed a most durable individual, a testament to both the care lavished upon her at Denali Stud, where she is called the “Queen of Denali,” and to her own constitution.

As noteworthy as those details of her life are, however, what makes her shine more is her impact upon individuals who love racing and the reverence that evokes, much as everyone at Denali has for her that led to her royally-inspired title at the farm. She was offered peppermint cookies on April 4 to mark the occasion of her turning 32, and reading that she had reached that age filled me with awe all over again for her.

I am grateful that Denali has been gracious to share one-on-one time with her for her fans over the years, and that I have been able to visit her more than once in retirement. While I watched her races on TV, I was not in a position to attend any of them, so my first time in her presence was in 2010. I jumped at the chance to see her through a tour offered when the World Equestrian Games were in Lexington. In fact, I thought that tour was only possible as a special event while the Games were in town. Later I discovered how often Denali offered opportunities to visit her, but that never made it less special. Each visit was different too.

As could be expected from an “iron” horse, one who was dominant, Serena’s Song expected peppermints to have patience to stand for visitors. She was never mean, but she knew what she wanted and I was happy to feed her provided peppermints when I visited. Another time, the groom who brought her out of the stall for me handed me her lead rope and I alone got to handle her for pictures. That was a thrill beyond words, even more one-on-one than standing beside her for a photo. It was she and I, directly connecting with no one else involved. She was sleek and healthy as always, with an extra shine to her coat from the warmer days of that time of year and probably the added robustness of the grass responding to those same weather conditions. One other time I saw her stood out because I found a spot where she wanted to be scratched, and she was enjoying that thoroughly. That too felt like a more one-on-one connection than feeding her peppermints, as much as she liked those, for it was almost like providing care to scratch a spot she would have had difficulty reaching. It was a joy to give that care and see how she reacted to getting that itch scratched.

I am grateful I have had those moments in her presence. The mid-90s was when I first became most invested in racing and watching it at every opportunity. As one of the most noteworthy racehorses of that time, Serena’s Song made a strong impression. That made it even more special that I got to have those moments with her – I would have never dreamed I would when I watched her on TV in a state without horse racing.

Even though I have (reluctantly) moved away from Lexington, special moments with the renowned horses there like those recounted here stay with me. A toast to Serena’s Song for being one of the horses who gave me wonderful memories of the time I lived there, and here’s to her continued health!