I looked over my shoulder at Kris, and noticed her shirt looked no better than my own. We had only been on the horses for two hours, and it was the hottest day of the month. The thermometers inside the cabins read at a steady ninety degrees but all of us swore it felt more like one hundred and ten. The air was so dry that our throats were sore; none of us could get enough water. For over a week, Kris and I had been taking the horses out for a daily three - five hour hike along various trails in the Laguna Mountains, testing them on different terrain, including the hard packed asphalt of the highway. I was almost certain that Sunny, our friendly palomino with the soft and gentle, Hershey-kiss eyes, was a trail horse at one time in her life. The only thing that Foxy struggled with was being in the rear. She hated to be behind the other mare and would yank at the rope reins and sidestep on the pathway until I allowed her to trot her way to the front. Lucky for us, Sunny didn't seem to mind being passed up.
